unforum

[Fortasse]

[Pick]

[baller1323]

yo

[Fortasse]

[dirigible]

ILB

[NinjaKick]

Okay there's another three now, on the picture of the new five on the left side are three very dim lines, as well as a circle in the middle, not fully closed. And a dot within the circle, I thought the whole thing looked kinda' like a keyhole now.

[Zanderan]

hey just made an account and read the whole conv. there is also a lot of threes in the new picture three breaks in the five, three markings, three lines that make up the markings, and i just noticed this it looks like there r three of those things inside each other with the circle in the center and the sound reminds me of a record player in the begining there is the little pop and then it is the spinning of a record with no sound

[sangokyu]

I just noticed something... the letter C is a major part of the site... and c is the 3rd letter of the alphabet... hence, Halo 3.

[Zanderan]

[coca2cola]

i heard that the dots and dashes at the bottom of the error screen could be morse code and that it read 5 and 3 over and over again. maybe all the fives and threes stand for a date may 5, 2006 (5/3/06).

[Zanderan]

[Pick]

W00T! Now there is a .jpg file that is called red.jpg and Dwlash has a journal.

[Zanderan]

I am afraid my attempts to rescue Morrow have become my destined capture.

There's a trickle of sweat going down my forehead. It glistens in the bright light.

"Wha...?" I try and speak, really I do, but suddenly my throat's so dry. So dry. It's a dead man's cackle.

Stalling for time has never become more important than it is right now. The sword pointed at my neck, the calm expression in the general's eyes.
Impatiently now, he thrusts the blade forward a little bit with a flick of the wrist, saying hurry up, hurry up. "The password," he drones, "Lt.
Morrow."

Being the imposter that I am, I've done some background research. But a password? I lick my dry lips. "In the Elder Scrolls forum, '*****' gets
me in... as Rmorrow."

Well, the ruse is out in the open now, time to see if this is what the cryptic general wants... and his expression isn't a good one.

"Humph." The general gestures with his sword to a lonely, rickety chair in the back corner. "Sit, boy."

I try and read his eyes. Does he trust me? Am I in?

"I said sit!" His voice is thunder.

I walk backwards to the chair, slowly and cautiously. I don't want to turn my face from the general - not only is it dangerous to show your back to a
potential enemy, but he might take it as an affront. I think of a cat who has gone too far down a slim tree branch, and has to get back up to get to
safety. I sit.

The general takes off his helmet, lays it on the ground. His bushy black eyebrows make a claim to youth, but his ravaged face screams years of battle
and blood. And those cold, cold eyes. Mechanical.

He laughs and runs a calloused hand through his hair. "You don't even know what this is about, do you?"

Well. I guess my ruse wasn't enough. I palm the dagger resting in the sleeve of my shirt. Its hilt has been wrapped in strips of leather to help
grip. Thoughts rush through my head. The general knows I'm not who I say I am, what's to stop him from killing me? Should I throw the knife at him and run?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His cold grey eyes, eyes I thought were as cold as eyes could be, have dropped a few more degrees in temperature. "How about you just show me your little apple-cutter instead?"

I pull the dagger out from my sleeve. Then, for good measure, I pull its sister from my other sleeve. There's many more where they came from. I
slide them both towards him, across the old wood floor.

The general picks them up, holds them to the light of the fire. Their burnished black metal shines only so slightly.

"Interesting. You made these yourself?" He asks casually. It's the first thing about him that's seemed off-handed, and I realize this question is
much more important than he wants to let on.

"Yes." I nod my head.

"What metal are they made from?" He asks, casually again. His eyes are trying to pierce my own.

I shrug, not saying anything. There's no reason to just tell him a thing like that. Not only is that information something I can bargain with to try
and stay alive, but the ebony alloy they are made of is something I spent years perfecting. In bright sunlight the blades barely reflect any light,
and seem to go unnoticed by even the most discerning of bodyguards. At least till they're lodged in their master's heart - and at that point they
aren't really bodyguards anymore, are they?

Time to change the subject. "I know what's going on here," I say.

"Oh, you do?" Laughter. The general doesn't seem like a man to laugh at very much, and I realize it's probably because he only uses it to get
something, not because he finds any real humor in the world.

"Nonexistence, nothing, nowhere, nullity, obscurity, out there, void." I recite them easily. Their scrawl is etched in my brain's memory forever.
"I just don't know why you left out the first half: blackness, darkness, eclipse, emptiness, extinction, gone, limbo, nihility, nirvana,
no-man's-land."

Now the general is standing very, very still. I sense that he could be close to using my own daggers against me. "How did you know?" He asks.

"Anyone can crack open a thesaurus." I pause. "But I'm more interested in what they all mean… Oblivion." It's a word that rolls off my tongue, but
still seems to have such a weight to it.

As quick as a blink, one of my own daggers is lodged in the chair between my legs. It quivers ever so slightly, and hums with the sound of its metal
buried an inch deep in wood. I jump up in shock. Just a little bit higher and… never mind, I'm not going to even think that thought.

"Watch your mouth!" The general barks.

The general composes himself. "Sorry. People listen, even to the likes of you." The last part is so quiet, so whispered. Like an arrow notched for
flight, the inhale before it is released to the wind. He's not sorry at all.

I think that it's time to push my advantage with the general. "Am I in, then?"



there is also a sound thats sounds like someone snoring or breathing hard in the walsh journal and a new picture called red i can't make out what it is or means yet

[Pick]

OK, in Dwlash's jounal entry, they make a refrence to the Elder Scroll's forum, the other name is Lt. Morrow and some people say this is about Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Is it just me or are these connected to the game Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind?

[Pick]