Karodin of Emberhold stumbled into the Halls of the Dead Serpent, combat-rolling onto his shield into the kneeling position. He pointed his sword forward, ready to combat whatever terrible enemies awaited him.
Ghosts! He was surrounded by dozens-- hundreds of ghosts!
Big ghosts! Small ghosts!
Human ghosts and Dwarven ones!
Wielding terrible weapons like... smithing hammers and... mining picks?
Grimacing, he lowered his weapon and righted his posture...
The lot of them were... civilians.
They floated eerily in silence. It was a little unnerving, but it was nothing like Karodin had expected.
Of all the undead the Brazen Guard had encountered in the Halls, they were all Snake Cultists and very, very angry. They'd rush all at once and try to... ghost-bite you to death, (or something like that.)
