[HOLD EVERYTHING

STOP THE PRESSES

ERIDAN HAS SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO ANNOUNCE]

For those of you unawware of troll culture, wwell, lets face it that's almost all of you. In fact the only ones wwho can appreciate this fully are...twwo of you I guess, since the third one knowws wwhat this is about already, but I'm in a generous mood. I'll explain.

First off I'd like to say that to those of you wwho label me an undesirable troll, I say ha.

Also fuck you.

For you see I just got myself a kismesis. An' before you bastards ask, yes he agreed to it. I'll fuckin' provve it if I havve to.

To those a you not in the knoww, this makes us troll boyfriends, only there's more hate goin' on. Kinda like havvin' a deadly an' vviolent rivvalry but wwith makin' out invvolvved.

[Oh and he grins here.]

An' he's not half-bad at that, if I say so myself.

That's all. You can go back to your livves noww.

[Yep. Make of it what you will initiative, this here is one desperate motherfucker.]

[ The camera pans onto a bored-looking, surly-sounding demon, arms crossed, grinding his teeth, disdain thick in his voice. He stands in the center of a summoning circle, its runes growing on and off, an eerie pulse. ] You defeated my Lord, yet you summon the Kyn, Septim? [ He looks around and below him, laughing maniacally. ] A ward? For me? I see you're no longer the simpering child who fancies himself a master of the arcan—

Enough! [ Not present in the recording, it is Martin's shout that silences the Dremora. ] I would've rather thrown myself at Dagon once more than summon the likes of you, daedra. [ His tone is full of regret, and self-loathing. ] But if I am to keep others safe, then I must know...

Ah, desperation, I should've known. Even then, that was the only reason why you called me. [ The Dremora smirks arrogantly, teeth rows of viciously sharp fangs. ] I see it in your eyes: you're afraid. Pathetic. Instead of embracing your nature, you gave up your life for these mortals, and you continue to live among them. Weak, doomed to death and failure and loss...

[ And then the Dremora stops, tracing the sharp edges of his sword with his fingertips, then continues in the same haughty, amused tone. ] You can't stop it. To be dragonborn is a curse and a blessing. And you, once possessed by the Dragon himself, it will be so much worse for you.

You will burn the flesh off your enemies, you will rend their bones with your jaws. And you will delight in it, for that is the nature of the Dragon's Children.

The Dragon wakes, Septim. You know this.

I pity any in your path.

[ With a final laugh of malicious glee, the Dremora disappears in a shower of purple sparks. And the transmission ends. ]

OOC: All answers will be VOICE or TEXT for most responses.

[ Hello, denizens of Exsilium. Someone finally figured out how to turn their device on. Not well, mind you- but hey! Turning it on is an improvement over staring at it and losing it, right? At first, there's only blackness and a tiny sliver of changing coloured light in the top left corner. In the background, the low buzzing noise of busy chatter can be heard; voices indistinct. ] Is this thing on?

[ It takes him a few more moments to realize his thumb is covering the camera, but when he does, his smile fills the screen, an almost, but not quite smug expression upon his features. ] I spent a few days wandering around aimlessly- [ Read: Lost. ] -and I was beginning to think that maybe all the whining was justified.

[ He looks away a moment, over at something unseen. ]

But then I found this place. And you know what? It's not all bad.

[ This is followed by several very feminine giggles in the background, and Garrett chuckles lowly. He murmurs something indistinct to whomever is with him off camera, before he cuts the feed. ]