The next day, my army marched.

The Orcs and Nords were the most used to marching. they never flinched in the long days of walking in heavy armour. The Imperials and Bretons, however, gave me a few problems...but nothing much.

We marched for three days, camping occasionally for a few hours at a time. AT our latest camp, I noticed movement in the trees, and drew my sword. I should note that I carry with me three weapons: A katana, "Angel Whisper",a wakizashi, "Angel Cry", and an ebony claymore, "Nightmare". I ddrew out the "Whisper", and called to the forest, "Show yourself!"

A small pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the foliage. Khajit eyes. I becknoed it out with my hand. It's okay; I am no hunter." I sheathed my sword at my hip. It slowly, cautiously emerged. It was a Suthay-Raht, the common form of the Khajit. He was shaking.

"What is the matter?" I inquired, striving to make my voice gentle and soothing. "What happened?"

It's look of terror increased. It's eyes bore into my soul. It's eyes, so felihne, yet so human. I saw so much terror. I heard myself letting out a low whining, almost sympathetic to it.

"What the-"

It bolted.

I turned, facing the Nord who had called out.

My look must have withered him, for he ducked his head, but I said, "Post guards, 4-6 hour shifts. Wait my for my return."

I turned and sprinted into the woods. I weaved between treees, using supernaturally enhanced senses to avoid slamming into one. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. They burned, it felt like acid was running though my veins. A branch slipped my perception, snapping hard against my shoulder. I could no longer feel my legs.

Until they went out from under me.

I stumbled, dropped to my knees, and rolled, finally stopping as I leapt up, the hilt of my katana in my hand. I realized that, in my haste, I had run into the woods in only my clothing, a katana on my hip, without armour.

I looked around. I reached out with my sense. I heard nothing. The most unsettling sound is complete silence.

I had come to fight an army, and I was alone. Standing alone in the woods. The imeprail had conveniently forgotten to mention that I was fighting Khajiit, if indeed I was. Khajit are known for their guerilla tactics.

Was this going to turn into a guerilla war?

I had lost the khajit. I turned, and began to walk back to the camp.