Blackwater Islands and by the sea, we're laying down our hopes

How did you die?

Was he dead, then? Was that why he could not move his body. Why he choked on his own tongue?

He moans piteously, but stops short the sound. Sucks a breath in, as the stranger's head touches upon his pale body.

Warm.

It is not enough to make him know himself, not as he should. But he is drawn to watching the dark shape as it moves. Watching its mouth. Seeing the gleam of teeth wetted with a predatory shine.

Sssithis, the man says, as if to recite the name of something might remove it of its power. Convinced, in his mindless state, that this was the daedric force made manifest.