The warm wind swirled ash through the air, blowing through the clothing of the Necromancer as she reached up and pulled down long clumps of Emperor’s Parasol moss, balling it up in her hands before tucking it away into a large leather satchel she carried. This moss would come in use for potions, as it had healing properties as well as magical fortification uses.
She looked into the distance, the overcast sky blocking out much of the sun that illuminated the land. Nothing but ash and charcoal.. So much destruction took place on this island, and yet, the fungal building to her far right was one of the things proving the existence of life on such a barren island.
She’d seen much in her unlife, and traveled all over Tamriel, from the giant forests of Valenwood to the volcanic wilds of Vvardenfell. Lucy had seen all sorts of wonders that the whole of Tamriel had to offer. She’d been through wars, famines, plagues, and yet she still wasn’t satisfied. She wasn’t ready to let herself be taken to the afterlife.
Perhaps something on this small island would offer her what she desired, even though she was no longer sure of what she wanted. Lucy shook her head and began to walk on, aimlessly following her faint shadow. Perhaps there wasn’t anything for her left in Tamriel. Maybe she just needed a long rest.
@firstdragonbcrn
