The Weekly Mudcrab #112
Literary Corner
The storm forced the ocean to churn and crash upon itself, and the sky filled with dark clouds, but it was not blue or black, the clouds were ink with a sickly green backdrop. Gasping and struggling, Korut yelled as he fought against this endless power of this cruel place. His muscles screamed in exhaustion, his eyes stung from the salt and brine; he was utterly worn down, and he couldn't continue this fight. He had escaped this hell; he had beaten it But he was back on Nirn, he was back home.
After retaking Chapel-Upon-Light, Ceramos found a new purpose: to restore his family bearing and estate to its former glory. Despite carrying a bound scroll filled with names longer than the span of a windowpane, his family was not famous nor of any distinct noble stock. Their only fame relied on their haven of healing, which unfortunately had become a putrid lair for necromancers. Word on merfolks' lips spread fast and merciless: his family dead, forsaken, and the chapel infested with death. Those were the words around he wanted rectified. And his first move was to send painstakingly handwritten letters.
