The softest arms in all of Tamriel reached for me and held my neck, and the owner led my face to hers as I dropped my blade and turned for her. I coul... not see but I knew who it was, I could see her in my dreams. I knew her scent. We cradled each other, and my legs locked with hers. Our glossy bodies slid against each other, and we rhythmically pulsated and flowed together. I could not hold her tight enough, and we constricted each other, our breasts together. I slid down and began nipping at. It was at Bordeaux that my best friend, Charles St. John, was shot and killed by Jarvis Braxton-Clark. Oh, it was perfectly legal and above board, if you subscribe to the theory that duelling is the only honourable way that gentlemen can settle a dispute.Lieutenant Charles St. John had joined the battalion after Vittorio and had been posted to Captain Slade's company. On the face of it Charles was never going to be taken seriously as an infantry officer, in what was by now a veteran battalion.. More

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