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[Anna, DA!]

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The Temple had been waiting for her arrival. Confidently Anna pushed open the heavy double doors. She strode through the main hall briskly, and descended to the Hall of Chaos, the clicking of her heels echoing tenfold high above in the vaulted ceiling. Grey shadows of rats slipped away from the rays of her torchlight. The black robe that she had carelessly thrown over her normal garb swung around her calves, the flapping stirring up swirls of dust.

She stopped almost at the end of the long room, at a heavy oblong slab of stone that bore the Baali markings, where an offering of blood took place, made when Anna pledged herself to Oblivion. She placed a hand on it, almost expecting the rock to shiver under her touch, the way the living flesh of her first Childe would, warm and responsive. Of course, the stone did not; it laid dead and cold under her palm. Anna sighed. "Tsk, tsk, who woke me?” She whispered.

Carried away by memories, Anna ran a finger over the glassy surface of the stone slab, then across the jagged, rough letters, and stopped at the edge of the receptacle. She lifted her finger from the stone as a drop of her blood sprang forth; bringing it to her lips she kissed the blood drop.

She needed supplies and sent a message to the one person she knew would help her. She arranged a meeting at the Skara Bank with Molly. It was good to see her old friend again and quickly accepted Molly’s offer to go to her home. The conversations were geared towards happenings that had taken place while she had been asleep. She was slowly regaining her wits about her. As they caught up on things Molly invited her to a meeting that was to take place in hour. She accepted.

Anna stood in the room of light bringers feeling somewhat uncomfortable but listened to the chatter half interested as the talk was on some package Molly had received by an unknown source. It wasn’t until the Hand of Evil was brought up that her interest was peaked to its fullest. She listened carefully to every word Talon spoke. She always did admire his style.

She knew all about this armor. Crafted from the deepest wells of Oblivion ages ago the armor bore the marks of its maker. The armor was a tool used to control the one who wore it to do its bidding. Yes indeed it had a long history, one she knew well.

As the meeting came to a close Anna was offered to stay at Molly’s, which she quickly accepted. She was feeling tired and as they arrived she excused herself to the guest room. A war was brewing in Britannia. Her thoughts drifted as sleep slowly overtook her but not before one name came into mind… King Fallout. ’Was it you who has disturb my slumber? ‘

"And lo he looked upon the terrible visage of Oblivion and was driven mad by the paradox of power: Only The Insane Have The Strength To Rule But It Is Those Who Rule, Who Judge What Is Truly Sane"
--Song of Dealthagar, The Oblivion Chronicles