Flint Ironwood, Bruma
It was a normal day at the Bruma Siege Division. Brids whistling in the trees on each side of the field, a crisp breeze and above all, creaking wood and earshattering explosion.
“Alright, water!” Flint Ironwood ordered, almost sounding bored. He had come to expect this result and he realized that was a bad thing. He shook his head as he watched the burning wreck of their latest mishap.
“Flogir isn’t going to like this.” He muttered to himself while the siegecrew formed a line and began to throw buckets of water on the fire. The aging Breton waited till the fire had been smothered before he dared approach the siege engine. From afar, he hadn’t been able to see just what went wrong. One moment, they pulled the rope that triggered the catapult, the next the whole thing exploded.
“At least no one has been injured this time. Looks like all the precautions are working. I still wished we could get this to work though.”
Up close, he failed to see anything that could provide a clue towards the cause of the latest disaster.
“Perhaps we just tried a bad canister. Not enough sand, perhaps? Or maybe the bolts let go too soon. Well geez, it could be anything really.” Flint wondered. He picked up a shard of glass from the ground but quickly released it again. He scowled and licked his burned fingers.
“Crap it all. Will this never work?”
Sorian, Colovian Highlands
“Your money or your life!” The Imperial bandit yelled at the Redguard and jumped onto the middle of the route. At the same time, his partner jumped on the road behind the Redguard . They both eyed their victim warily. They knew the reputation of Redguards, how they’d elevated swordplay to a central part of their culture. A Redguard on the battlefield was one of the worst opponents one could face.
But this Redguard was young, inexperienced. Even culture couldn’t substitute years of battle. They believed they could take the Redguard, yet they remained wary.
“I said your money or your life, boy!” The Imperial repeated. The Redguard gave him an angry glare in return.
“Tell me, have you been preying on travellers for a long time?” He asked demandingly. The Imperial saw this as his chance to intimidate the young Redguard.
“For years I’ve been the plague of these lands! Even the legion is fears me so much they don’t dare send any patrols after me! It would be smart for you to give up your money and walk away unharmed.”
The Redguard however, was not intimidated. He drew a curved blade with his right hand in a flourish and aimed it directly at the bandit’s heart. At the same time, he used his other hand to release the straps on his backpack which fell to the ground.
“My name is Sorian! Sorian the Ansei! If you are the plague, then I shall be your cure! Drop your sword and walk away from the path of crime! Repent, or face the souls of your victims in Oblivion!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The Imperial’s partner took the opportunity to attack the obviously distracted Redguard from behind. He raised his axe high above his head and prepared to send it into Sorian’s skull.
Two whispers shot through the sky and both bandits dropped dead, leaving the Redguard standing in dumbfounded confusion.
“What is going on?” He thought. He then saw the feathered shafts of two bolts sticking out of the Imperial’s skull. Instantly, he looked from side to side, sword still held in front of him.
“who’s there?! Show yourself!” He yelled.
Behind a bush just off the road, Vasha shook her head.
“Foolish young man. If he doesn’t learn to watch his back, he’ll get killed.” She said to herself.
“Nevertheless, we’ve dealt with the bandits that have been such a hassle since last week. There is no need for us to remain and get involved with him any further.” She tapped a ring she wore on her hand which began to glow in a deep green.
“One…two…three.” Simultaneously, five pillars of black smoke erupted from behind various bushes.
Sorian saw the smoke and ran to the nearest bush.
“Who are you?!” He asked, but no one was there.
OOC: Revan, just for your information. The ring Vasha used is something I've decided on as a communication device. Varying on the number of taps, it displays different colours. In this case, green meant 'retreat'. The rings are connected. If one glows, all the other ones will glow in the same colour. Vasha probably has multiple ones. One is connected to the ones her team wears, the other to perhaps other teams or the Narza'Tai main command? Colour codes should change regularly, just in case.
Satyana, Chorrol
The morning sun was bright, Satyana sat on the stairs in front of her house, sipping a cup of tea.
I must tell him today....gah, I wonder what he'll say, this isn't the best of times, but still, it happened and I'm happy about it... Please let him be happy as well
She sighed and put the cup down. It was high time to feed the horses, they were alreade awake and hungry. Satyana went to the small stable and gave the two horses their breakfast. She was happy, yet worried, her life had turned out alright, she was married to Issac, they had managed to buy this small farm where they could grow herbs and plants, and even keep a couple of horses. She loved the horses, they were so sweet.
The nausea caught her as she was gathering the hay....she stood still, sweat was running down her back and she struggled not to vomit. No success....she emptied her already empty stomach just outside the stables. Wiping the tears from her cheeks she looked around to see if Issac had noticed.
Her blouse was sticking to her back, her breasts were sore, she felt really sick, but there was a very good reason for that and she couldn't help smiling....
She pulled her damp hair back and headed for the house....to wake her beloved one up..now was the time to tell him....
"Issac, darling, wake up....there's something I must tell you" Satyana gently kissed him on his forehead...
Oh I love you Issac, you'll never imagine how much I love you....
OCC: I'll let someone else post before starting Issac.
Ian, Anvil
The port of Anvil had been left untouched by the war, making it the only functional port in Cyrodiil.
This fact was why the population had recently boomed. More peers had been contructed and the monoploy of trade would not change anytime soon.
Amidst the almost constant trickle of people going into and out of the castle was a single man who hadn't moved for hours.
More than one person stopped and stared; exchanged hushed whispers. Some knew who this man was, the blood red robes and tell-tale wrist daggers gave away the agent's identity.
Ian, the man who slew the King of Worms, didn't take notice of the commoners and dignitaries who gazed at him in wonder.
His reddened eyes watched the rising sun on the horizon. He reflected on the inconvienance of his fame, then on the facts that the rumors didn't mention.
His vampirism was one such fact, to most his status was an exceptional warrior who could cheat the master of death. Kirana found his annoyance amusing to no end.
The vampire finally moved as a black horse courior approached. Ian snatched a packet of the papers and glanced over them.
His face was impassive as he noted even more reports of respectable citizens disappearing without a trace, but his face filled with disdain as the killings were pinned on elements of Narza'Tai radicals. *Anyone with a proper mind would realize these people weren't the type the Narza'tai would target: they were opposed the sudden shift to democrasy, traditionalists, the people that sympathized for the Narza'Tai's cause of perserving the old ways.
-------
Pell's Gate
Two legionnaires shook their heads at the sight. Several rotting corpses were hung from a line running between two small houses.
One ineffectively tried to swat at an annoying fly buzzing around his helmet. "This was the Narza'Tai." He muttered dryly.
"That's what we'll say, but those honored users don't go murdering villages, hanging dead bodies, but not killing these scum." The other said studying the corpse that still resembled a woman.
"At least whoever did it didn't take anything, mark my words this haul will merit a promotion!" The first commented, approaching the villages meeting house.
There was a muffled sound, and the second legionnaire spun around. The door was wide open, but the interior was dark.
"Hey, Septimus! You find something?" A moment passed and he unsheathed his longsword.
The legionnaire cautiously approached the meeting house. He took two steps into the building and spotted Septimus' boot.
He looked up and spotted something else. It was a helmet, whatever was wearing it inched closer.
The head was attached to a long snake-like neck. He heard the creature growl, a long, rumbming warning tone.
"God's BLOOD!" The soldier took a spinning step to escape before the creature grabbed his boot and pulled him off his feet.
The dazed legionnaire swung his sword wildly, but it did nothing to save him.....
OOC: I'll let someone else post before starting Veric/Altair.
Rann, One Year Ago
Rann stepped into Altair's tent. It was dusk and Altair was waiting for him with a tabletop covered in various scrolls and tomes, one of them having been left behind by Kirana. They had been meeting nearly every night soon after the Silhouette was banished to study the origins of Rann's strange birthmark, and they were actually gaining knowledge. Sort of.
"So what's new?" Rann asked, sitting in the seat across from Altair.
"Well," Altair replied, turning to a marked page in Kirana's tome, "You come from a long lineage of powerful mages."
Rann snickered, "That explains all of my natural spellcasting talents."
"You didn't let me finish," Altair said flatly before continuing, "Your ancestors were a powerful dunmer family in Morrowind; well-known members of House Telvanni. Unfortunately, one of them angered House Indoril when he killed a number of priests. I couldn't figure out all the details, but I did find out that he was imprisoned and somehow stripped permanently of all magical ability. He still knew how to cast spells, but he just couldn't tap into his magicka."
"After he was freed, though," Altair kept on, "House Telvanni still mourned his loss and rewarded him for his years of loyal service. They sent him to see a high elf wizard in the Summerset Isles, who crafted the magicka-absorbing tattoo for him. Both House Indoril's curse and this altmer's gift are hereditary. I'll let you know when I find out who exactly this wizard was, and if he's even alive."
Rann, Present
Rann took in the area around him, basking in the very idea of returning home. He urged his horse to go faster as the Imperial City came in sight. Repairs seemed to be going well, as much progress had been made in the Reconstruction since he had last been there. The new White Gold Tower was not yet complete, but it seemed to be standing just as proudly as the original, despite its lack of height.
It had only been two days since he'd landed back in Cyrodiil. After a year of traveling and living in Summerset Isle, Rann finally decided to take the ship back to Anvil.
He crossed the stone bridge as he approached and left his horse at the stable. Walking into the Talos Plaza District with a pack slung over his shoulder, Rann could tell that much was getting better. Business seemed to be booming again in the city, and besides the unfinished tower looming on the horizon, Rann could see little sign of the battle that occurred that long year ago.
Rann wondered if he would happen upon anyone he knew besides Altair, who he was coming specifically to see. It had been so long since he'd heard anything from the people he knew in Cyrodiil that he honestly had no idea of what he should expect.
Flogir, the Imperial City
A knock at his office door caught Flogir's attention.
"Enter," his warm, yet time-worn voice called.
A solider entered, baring the golden crest of the Home Guard. The soldier snapped a salute to the General of the Home Guard. Flogir nearly smiled at the seriousness the man was showing but he remembered that a soldier was supposed to act like this in front of their superior. Flogir returned the salute.
"What do you need, Captain Merigold?" he asked.
"Well sir..." Merigold began but hesitated.
"Spit it out Merigold, I don't have time to waste," Flogir stated briskly, indicating a healthy stack of paperwork that needed to be looked over.
Merigold blanched. "Sorry sir, it's just that there was an incident at 'The Watering Hole' involving some off-duty Home Guard and some Legion-."
"By the Nine!" Flogir cursed and slammed his fist on his desk, rattling the various items upon it. "Did I not inform the men that they should not drink where the Legionnaires usually do?"
Merigold gulped audibly. "It seems that that order has not reached all the men yet. I'll make sure that it does after this though."
"That you should, Captain," Flogir growled darkly. He looked up to the Captain once again, some of the heat from his eyes had dissapated. "Where are they now?"
"They are currently incarcerated for assaulting members of the Imperial Legion. Our men claim they were goaded into fighting, sir," Merigold explained.
"Of course they were," Flogir grumbled and began shifting a few papers. "I'll have to speak to that leech, Agrippa after the meeting today and see if he can let this slide. Do you command these men Merigold?"
"No sir, Sergeant Mallory does, sir," Merigold replied.
"Be sure to inform Mallory that these men get assigned to something unpleasant for the next two weeks."
"It shall be done, sir."
"Dismissed, Merigold," Flogir said, waving him off.
Merigold snapped another salute, turned on heel and left the office. Flogir scratched at his beard as he thought about having to talk to Agrippa. The man has been a thorn in his side since Altair hired him to lead the Legions. Other than Altair and possibly few other members of the council, Agrippa basically tired to make himself appear superior to all those he dealt with. Whenever Flogir spoke with Agrippa it seems as if Agrippa was talking to him as if he were a child. It didn't rub Flogir the right way.
Flogir smacked the desk once again and cursed.
Flint Ironwood, his office in Bruma
Flint muttered darkly to himself. If he looked out of the window, he could still see the lingering smoke coming from the field. Shaking his head, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write.
Flogir,
Today's test on concept D was another failure. The prototype exploded when the mechanism was triggered. We know what happened. The spheres were released too soon and shattered, allowing the payload to mix with the air. The results speak for themselves. But why the spheres were released too soon, we don't know. I swear we triple-checked every single nut and bolt, and still the damn thing blows up. The theory is sound and the bleuprints have been worked out till the finest details, and still the damn thing blows up. It's driving me nuts, to be honest.
In other news, I'm going to freeze concept B, the long-range ballista, for now. We had a meeting on it and agreed that it just isn't possible with the current budget. Only a bow made from Dwemer steel can withstand the strain put on it. Naturally, that stuff is hard to get by and even harder to work with. Speaking of which, Odrik is planning to dispatch some unofficial ambassadors to Morrowind. Now that we've dropped the project, he wants to import some Dwemer originals in the cheapest way possible. Who knows, we might just learn something from those relics. We'll need permission for that, though. All Dwemer artefacts are property of the Empire.
In three days, we should have rebuilt concept D. From now one, we're going to fill the glass spheres with water instead of the explosive liquid. Odrik complained that the mass would be different but I don't care. If anything goes wrong this time, at least we won't put the whole thing on fire. It is too expensive to rebuilt a siege engine every single time. Besides, it will be easier to find the fault in the design when the trebuchet is still intact.
Anyway, I hope everything is going fine down there in Cyrodiil. Say hi to everyone for me.
Flint Ironwood.
Flint folded the letter and passed it on to a waiting servant.
"Direct it to the Home Guard in Cyrodiil by pidgeon." He said before turning towards the window. The smoke had vanished.
Issac, homestead near Chorrol
The Altmer stretched and blinked sleepily. He focused on Satyana after a few moments. "Satyana, I'd rather get dressed first, can we talk during breakfast?" He asked, carresing her cheek softly.
--------
Imperial City
A black horse courior stood before a gathering of people. "New edition: Small Village Massacres, don't be the next victim!"
Black Horse Courior: Small Village Massacres
Two weeks ago a merchant caravan arrived at their destination. They expected a normal welcome, but found a morbid one instead.
Five days later a legion patrol discovered another lifeless village. Corpses of men and women hanging from wires between their homes to rot, bite wounds unlike anything known to civilized man, and absolutely nothing valuable having been looted!
A legion patrol was sent to Pell's Gate, across Lake Rumare from the Imperial City, as it was believed to be the next target. The legionnaires suffered the same terrible fate as countless innocents at the claws of this abomonation.
Many argue that these were not Narza'Tai attacks, citing the lack of looting, bite wounds, and the location of these attacks compared to Narza'Tai territory.
It is also believed it is one creature responsible, we'll keep you up to date as this unfolds.
Indor, his waterfront hut
The knocking was insistent, Indor could see a large nord though his shattered window. He sighed and readjusted his bandages before he went to the door, hoping the bailiff was having a good day. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The rent.”
Indor eyed the nord warily and moved to hide the inside of his hut, “I don’t have it.”
“That won’t do. You already owe for last month, and your window is broken, that’s another forty septims.”
“I’ll have it soon-“
“You said that last time.”
“I was robbed. Next week I can pay you,” the nord looked doubtful, “Give me a week. Look take this,” Indor gave him a bottle, “It will make you very strong, for a bit. It’s for you, just give me another week.”
The nord took the bottle and nodded, “If you don’t have-“
“I will.” Indor assured him.
As the bailiff walked away Indor sighed in relief, he’d noticed the window but at least he hadn’t seen inside. Indor rubbed at his hand but the fresh burns only itched more. He hadn’t expected the Ayleid stone to rupture like that. There had been a lot of power and how it worked fascinated him. It was defiantly worthy of more research. If only he had the means. He shook his head and looked across the lake; in the distance he saw the spires of the Ayleid city. How naive he’d been to go there: he’d got out alive but not with his money. The bandits had left him with nothing but the clothes on his back. Still they had made their offer: five hundred septims to investigate it in safety, and to keep any artefacts he found.
The opportunity was there but useless to him, he hadn’t got enough money to pay the rent for a hut on the waterfront: how would he raise that much? But without it his research was finished. His accident with the stone had only increased his interest, and destroyed some of his furniture.
Maybe someone would be interested, maybe interested enough to help. If he had a sponsor, it was clutching at straws but perhaps. He went back into the shack and packed a bag with the remnants of the gem, his notes and some potions. If it came to the worst at least he could sell enough potions to keep up with the interest payments. He drank half a potion to give him a bit more energy then headed towards the main part of the Imperial City.
Dalrus Varus, Arcane University
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it is often better to use some of your energy on wards instead of depending completely on enchantments. I will see you tomorrow, remember to bring a plain gold necklace and I expect your papers on fighting trolls to be on my desk, before I start my lecture." She smiled at a middle-aged man named Michael. She had never thought about it, but it must have been weird for someone who was 21 to be teaching a class of people of whom only one was within 5 years of her ages. The rest were all older.
Dalrus left the podium and smiled at the apprentices as they walked by. She quickly walked up to her tower and was bombarded by a wall of noise. Tons of mages from all over the empire were in the main lobby, either making appointments to see her or to deliver things to the various heads of the Arcane Universities buildings. She had already improved the university greatly. The buildings were no longer gray but seemed to be covered in enchantments. The stone was white marble, much more noticeable than the great stone of the city. The ground seemed to be covered in a fog and plants of every type lined the walkways. Every building had secrets, every one of them a mystery.
"Madam Dalrus please..."
"Miss Varus, might I have a word?..."
"Archmage, I have something of great importance..."
"Ahh there you are, the person I have been dying to talk to..."
Dalrus smiled politely but walked on with an heir of purpose. She went over to the portal, dodging a particularly boisterous mage who seemed to think Dalrus and her were on a first name basis. Soon she glowed purple and she felt the strange sensation that the she was having warm water poured over her. She arrived in the Mage Council room and there she met some of the Undermages from the provinces. These were the archmages who lead a province but answered to her.
"I am sorry Llevn but I really must go... I am meeting a good friend of mine who I have not seen in a year..." she said to the Morrowind Archmage who seemed intent to tell her for the fourteenth time that house Telvanni was giving them trouble again.
I hope Rann's meeting with Altair is not too long she thought as she went into the portal that her and Altair had made straight to the Green Emperor Way.
General Agrippa, Imperial Legion base/Prison
This "Home Guard," legion was really starting to get Agrippa angry. Two of Agrippa's own prized legionaires had been acosted by some of the Home Guard at "the Watering Hole," and Agrippa felt a personally insulted by this because he had just gotten done with an interview for the Black Horse Courier. In the interview Agrippa had lied his way through many questions about his and Flogir's relationship, in which he stated "Me and Flogir are like a team who's main goal is to perserve the great people of the empire!" Well it would certainly be the last time he said that, unless of course someone more important was listening.
Agrippa loved his new post, other than members of the council, he was the highest ranked person in Cyrodiil, and if that Dalrus woman was not on the council, he suspected he would have nearly as much space to control his legions as he had during the crisis with Oblivion. Unfortunately she loathed him and unlike Flogir, she was not very polite to him.
Agrippa looked into the mirror as an attractive Breten woman polished his Imperial Dragon boots. Well well well, who is that fierce war general? he teased himself. His smug grin came to a short halt when he realized he was late for his meeting with his general of patrol. He quickly slapped away the breten woman's hand as she made to polish his breast plate and without a word went upstairs.
Savras
Highlands north of Chorrol
Savras brought his horse to a halt as he approached the edge of the mountains. In the distant he could make out the Colovian Highlands, a hilly forested region just north of Chorrol which meant he had been following the right trail in the northern mountains.
He pulled his hair back and watched the landscape as it had been quite a while since he lasted visited this part of Tamriel. He had devoted two years perfecting his swordsmanship with the Redguards, even when he heard of the war that was raging here. In the he had received his current sword as a gift from those whom he had trained with. He had trained with a similar sword but this one was like no other he had ever wielded. It was shorter than an ordinary longsword and lighter, but the curved blade could still deliver a power matching that of a claymore with the swiftness of a dagger.
Knowing he should try to reach Chorrol before sundown Savras continued south heading through the highlands.
Amrita, North of Anvil
A warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree Amrita was perched in, bringing the salty taste of the sea with it. She ignored it for the most part, her attention focused on listening to the sounds of the countryside. She knew what she was waiting for but the sound of horses had yet to be heard. It didn't matter, she had tracked their journey twice over the last few days and both instances had passed this point. They would arrive.
Almost on cue, the distant thunder of hoofs reached Amrita's pointed ears. A sly grin broke across her face as she gazed down below her. There awaiting her was a pack of wolves she had managed to capture with a Command Creature spell. To make sure that they would get the job done, she also had placed an Enhanced Strength spell upon them. It was time for an unfortunate accident.
Through the foliage of trees, Amrita could just make out Millona Umbranox and her two bodyguards riding towards her. The Countess of Anvil had been one of the leading patrons opposed to the new diplomatic leadership of Cyrodil. Veric had instructed her that it was about time to put a serious quell to this annoyance. Before this, Amrita had only taken out small, local annoyances near the Imperial City. That was a month and a half ago. Surely after this was done, no connection would be made. This was just a tragic accident afterall.
The Countess was close enough now. With a simple command of will, the pack of wolves rushed towards the three riders, snarling with vicious intent. Instantly teeth rendered flesh, cries of pain issued forth, and life was extinguished. All the while a black robed and slender woman looked on impassively as the deed was done.
Happy with the result, she released the spells she had on the wolves. Within her robes she clutched a yellow amulet and felt a swirl of magic wash across her. "It is done." Was all she needed to state before releasing the amulet. Seamlessly, Amrita merged with the shade of the trees and began her trek to Anvil. She wouldn't mind a carriage to whatever destination Veric wanted her next.
Ian, Anvil
The vampire stood on a raft he rented cheaply for a few hours. His hunter's sight penetrated the murky water, giving him an advantage over other the other fishermen out and about.
Ian nocked an arrow and aimed deliberately. The ebony projectile struck true and Ian's raft difted close enough to snatch the bobbing shaft. He dropped the slaughterfish into a net and repeated the procedure several times.
By the time his rent was due, the vampire had filled his net. "Lightning would have worked better." Kirana commented errantly.
I'd rather not overcook the meat, and arrow-fishing is more sporty. Ian replied, taking his net full of fish to the market.
--------
Issac quickly dressed and sat down with Satyana at the table. "So, what is on your mind, 'Tyana?" He sipped a glass of water.
Satyana, Chorrol homestead
Satyana smiled, she put a mug of hot hackle-lo tea in front of Issac, she knew he liked it very much....
"Issac, my precsious, you.....you are going to be.....a father!"
She blushed and lowered her head.....
Oh by Nirn, let him be happy about it....
Issac
He nearly coughed a mouthful of tea. Issac swallowed finally and set the mug down carefully. Did she just say....?
"A... A father? Are you certain, Satyana?" She didn't have to say yes, suddenly he could tell.
Issac hadn't had firm expectations of how he'd take news like this. The altmer laid back in his seat and mulled this over in his head.
He realized that Satyana was unsure of his reaction. Issac let out a breath. "This is a surprise...." Great, that was stupid.
"Satyana, this is fantastic!" He remembered talking about having a child during the war. Issac got out of his chair and knelt beside his wife.
He took her hand in his and smiled comfortingly. "Ian's going to want to hear about this."
If he knew anything in the world, he knew Ian would want to be here.
Rann/Altair
Rann strode into the Council Chambers after being questioned and having his weapons temporarily confiscated. Altair was sitting alone in the huge room with a seemingly genuine smile plastered on his face.
"Rann! I got the message you sent when you arrived in Anvil. How did you like your stay in the Isles?" Altair asked in greeting.
"It was..interesting," Rann answered, not knowing where to begin telling a year-long story.
"Well, I referred to to Orindion to learn about your heritage. What did you find out?"
"Not much, but I did some research with Orindion and something happened."
"Might I ask what?" Altair asked, though Veric could have easily guessed. Veric wasn't as generous with his information as Altair seemed to be.
"Well, Orindion isn't who we thought he was. He's the son of the Orindion we were looking for, but he still had his father's notes and some knowledge of his work. After a few days of studying, Orindion decided to cast some sort of spell on me to try to figure out what exactly this thing on my arm is. Something strange happened after that. I became...different. For weeks. I don't remember any of it, but Orindion said I was a madman."
"Strange..." Altair said, his voice trailing off.
"But let's speak of magical mysteries a little later," he started again suddenly, "When I received your message, I told Dalrus that you'd be arriving around midday. She should be here any minute now."
Dalrus, Council Chambers
As if by cue, Dalrus arrived as soon as Veric finished his last sentense. A rush of purple magic and Dalrus came into form in the doorway. Her hair was waving wildly from the rush of magic but soon subsided. Her emerald green eyes lit up when they caught sight of Rann.
"RANN!!" she screamed with delight as she ran towards him. She jumped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. She blushed right after doing this, she realized in her excitment that he might not have been interested anymore, not to mention Veric was in the room, and though they were good friends, he was more of a colleague.
Voltar
Leisurely flipping the page of the book, Voltar peered over the information contained within. Since Veric and him had started their "diplomacy", Voltar had gained access to the various texts that remained undamaged after the White Gold Tower was destroyed. Despite being a councilor, Voltar still had plenty of time to do anything he pleased so he decided that investigating the valuable and rare books held within the Tower could prove beneficial. So far, nothing revolutionary had been discovered but Voltar had always been the patient type, knowing that if there was something of worth within these books, he'd eventually find it.
He finished the page he was reading and glanced at the clock located in the room. The Council meeting was scheduled to happen fairly soon. Casually, Voltar marked his place in the book and closed it. Gathering up his robes, he snatched the Staff of Worldly Demise which was perched against the wall and began to make his way to the Council Chambers.
OOC: Voltar will arrive after Altair and Dalrus are done with Rann if you still have anything planned between them.
Rann
Before he even realized what was happening, Rann found himself in a tight embrace with Dalrus. Once the initial surprise wore off, though, a smile appeared on his face. It was good to be home.
"I'll be damned," he said, after some space appeared between them, "It's been a long time."
Before anything else could be said, Altair interjected by clearing his throat loudly to remind them of his presence.
"Just to warn you two, this may not be the best place for a reunion; there's a Council meeting here in ten minutes."
Rann heard Altair, but his eyes never once looked away from Dalrus, "After you," he said, gesturing towards the door.
Karn, Valenwood
Normally, one would never imagine a Dunmer being in a giant tree, let alone content with the position. But the sensei of the Narza'Tai was beyond caring about inherited comforts and discomforts. Although his face was blank as he looked over the giant forest, he was undeniably triumphant.
The Narza'Tai had proven they had power, but this was a testament to their growing influence. Not hours ago had the Bosmer of this particular region agreed for them to establish several outposts. This was more than territorial rights, it meant the Narza'Tai had enough presence to have sway over entire provinces.
Karn reigned in his triumph, this revelation, however profound, made them no more invincible. But invincibility is only an illusion, we must be smart if we are to stand the test of time.
The sensei watched his followers follow the Bosmers' instructions as to contructing these outposts. They worked silently, no petty complaints, complete focus. To most of Tamriel, they appeared alien, as demonic and intimidating as the Deadra of Oblivion.
Karn approved of this image, but he was one of a few who could see more than the black cloaks and masks. He saw the beauty of immortal grace in mortal form. Since the war's end, the Narza'Tai's foundations became more solid. They were a true brotherhood, and the sensei wanted to see them further transcend the flaws other guilds of mortals had.
There will be no one to replace me, I am temporary, the brotherhood will be the last thing standing when Nirn is reduced to ash. He turned and walked away silently, noting the assassins and Bosmer villagers everywhere.
Indor, Imperial City
“A coin for an old veteran sir.”
Indor waved a beggar aside as he wandered though the temple quarter lost in thought. The old man was hobbling away when Indor turned. “Oi, you,” he said wrinkling his nose as the beggar hobbled round; it appeared the old man had contracted helljoint.
“Yes kind sir?”
“I have a question and I dare say you might have an answer,” Indor didn’t wait for a response, “I’m a travelling scholar doing research into certain magical objects. Do you know of anyone in the city who might be interested in such learning?”
“No doubt plenty would be interested but I suspects you wants them to have money too?” the beggar gave him a gummy smile, “You’re not from round here but I can help you. What’s it worth?”
At least he’s direct, thought Indor. “I haven’t any money, but I’ll bet your joints ache in the mornings.”
“Oh, something terrible sir.”
Indor pulled a potion from his bag, “This will cure it.”
The beggar nodded, “Not many have the money for learning now, but there are some mages rich enough. If you speak right they might help you up at the university, or you could try the council. Some of them are mages and all have money, not that they like to give it away,” the beggar scowled slightly, “There’s one other too, been here almost a year but he isn’t often seen. Altmer, old by his looks though I wander… He always wears brown and seems to be studying some sort of magic, ‘fraid that’s all I know of him though I could find out more…”
“Thank you, and I think you’ll find the benefits of this potion more than worth that information too,” Indor passed the beggar the bottle and the man hobbled off.
Indor cringed at the loss of another valuable potion but it couldn’t be helped. For a moment he stood in thought then turned east towards the university. Still a long shot but more likely than the council and the altmer in brown, well that would be a wild goose chase, at least until the beggar was sure the potion was what it claimed to be.
A short while later he was ascending the steps of the Arcane University, mages bustled here and there along with other people. He felt an edge of envy that they could command magic. Magic he studied but was entirely unable to perform. A mage stopped him in the entrance room, “Only member are allowed past here,” she said before haughtily brushing onwards.
He tried, unsuccessfully, to start conversation with another couple of mages before giving up and sitting on a bench by the wall. Eventually someone would notice him.
Sorian, Chorrol.
From where he had his encounter with the bandits, it was less than half an hour walk to the Chorrol. Sorian felt relief when he rounded a bend in the road and the walls of the city came into view.
"Ah, good old civilization." He muttered. Before continuing any further, he wrapped a white handkerchief around the blade of his Shamshir, a sign of peace.
At the gates, he was stopped by the guards. Both Legionnaires looked at the Redguard's sword for a moment.
"You will have to turn that thing in during your stay in the city." One of them said.
"Sorry, but I have to refuse." Sorian replied politely. The Legionnaire, a middleaged Imperial, shook his head resolutely.
"Listen. All privately owned weapons, no matter what type and who holds them, are to be given to the guards for safekeeping. It is a simple measure that has reduced bar brawl lethality by 70 percent. Unless you can show me a permit, I'm not going to take no for an answer." The man explained and reached out for the Shamshir.
Sorian stepped back and put a hand on the hilt.
"I said I have to refuse. This sword is more than just a weapon. It represenst the traditions of my people, their history, their triumphs and their losses. This weapon is the soul of my ancestors." He said. The Legionnaire was losing his patience.
"Spare me the spiritual nonsense and just hand over that sword already!" He spat.
"I SAID THAT I HAVE TO REFUSE!!!"
Sorian looked frantically from one Legionnaire to the other.
"Oh, now I've done it. They've drawn their weapons. I don't get it. Why are they so uptight about this? No one asked for my sword in Hammerfell." He thought. With a sigh of frustration, he drew his Shamshir.
"I guess Cyrodiil is just a backwards province."
"Please, sheathe your blades, sir guards. I harbor no ill will towards you but if needed, I will defend myself."
OOC: He's going to get owned. The moron.
Vasha, Cyrodiil.
Vasha felt a slight shiver run down her spine as she materialized. Out of habit, she peered left and right, but it seemed as if no one had noticed her arrival. She jumped down from the ledge to the street, ten metres below her. She moved swiftly to the end of the alley, while absentmindedly smoothing the fabric of her simple pilgrim's robe. The sooner she managed to mingle with the masses, the better. She could not afford to draw any attention, not in the enemy's lair.
She cast a glance at the White Tower and scowled.
"I approve of the reconstruction efforts, but they should have let that relic rest. It's wrecked state would have served as a good reminder never to trust those you don't truly know." She thought.
As she neared the end of the alley, she could feel the vibrations of countless feet flow through the cobblestones. She soon emerged at a bustling street and dove into the crowd. She glanced at both sides of the street. One side was held by a group of Legionnaires, the other by an equal number of Home Guard. Both seemed to keep an eye on each other rather than the citizens. Vasha resisted the urge to sigh.
"The war has never ended, only the players and means of engagement have changed." She said to herself.
"After I've finished my bussiness, I'll inquire towards the latest activities of Agrippa."
Rann
Rann smiled back, "I did," he answered, walking outside with Dalrus, "Whenever I wasn't getting shouted at and chased down by strange Altmer or getting prodded by spells, I was usually wishing you were there."
Voltar
Voltar stepped into the Council Chambers moments after Rann and Dalrus walked out. He glanced at Veric and smiled that small smile he always did when amused.
"It appears that your 'project' has returned. Care to fill me in?" Voltar ventured, his curiosity piqued.
Dan, near Chorrol
Dan lazily made his way towards the seat of County Chorrol, striding along the dirt tracks that led from his small homestead to the road leading to Chorrol. The road wasn't as well travelled these days as it was before the war with the Serpent-Men, but it suited Dan just fine. As far as he was concerned, there were far less merchants to crowd the roads and almost no bandits to prowl them in search for prey.
The shadows of war, however, always drew their own portion of phantoms. From broken men who had deserted from the armies fighting to outlaws that preyed on any abandoned hovels and cottages, looting whatever the owners had left in their haste to escape the ferocious onslaught of the Silhouette and his minions. Because of these dangers, and others which were far more insidious, Dan still carried his old sword, Balmung. He had left his mail hauberk at his home, though, piled neatly in a corner of his house. Despite its age, it had served Dan quite well during the trials of the war.
As Dan neared the gates of the city, he was surprised to see a heated argument between a lone Redguard and several guardsmen. The Redguard was alone yet he still held his blade high, ready to meet the guardsmen in combat. Judging by the odds, he was hopelessly outmatched, unless he was one of the Redguards who stayed true to their heritage, mastering the art of swordsmanship.
From the way he holds his blade, though, I doubt it. His stance shows uncertainty and a lack of confidence in himself. Perhaps raw skill and valour can make up for his poor stance. Still, best not to allow this to come to blood, either the Redguard's or that of the guardsmen, Dan thought as he hurried towards the gates.
OOC: Perhaps Dan can calm down the guardsmen and still let Sorian keep his sword?
Savras
Chorrol
Having left his horse at the North County Stables, Savras headed for the southern gate but quickly came to a short halt as he noticed a lone Redguard and several guards outside the gate arguing about something, a serious argument that is, as he noticed the Redguard holding his blade at the ready. And not far behind, was an old Nord heading towards the men outside the gate.
Savras followed the steps of the Nord and walked up himself to the gate himself although he had no plans on helping out just yet.
OOC: Savras has better relations with Redguards, as he has trained with them for years and caring little about laws and regulations as explained, he'll most likely help out Sorian if anything happens but doubtfully kill the guards.
OOC: I'm just going to do Sorian and let you guys respond in any way you like.
Sorian, Chorrol gates.
"I will only say this one last time. Surrender your weapon, or we will take it from you by force." The Legionnaire said slowly. His colleague nodded.
"Please understand. It is a symbol. I have no intention of using it against anyone." Sorian pleaded.
The Legionnaire smirked.
"I hope it is a symbol worth dying for. Self-righteous punk!" He shouted and charged, his companion following close behind.
"Now you're trying to kill me?!" Sorian gasped as he sidestepped the first legionnaire. The second one however had anticipated this move and sidestepped as well while swinging his broadsword.
"Please stop!" Sorian yelled as he blocked the blow. The handkerchief he'd wrapped around his Shamshir was unceremoniously cut in two by the colliding blades. In a daze, Sorian's eyes followed the shredded kerchief.
"I meant no harm." He thought. His eyes snapped back to the Legionnaire. He broke off contact and jumped back.
"If you continue to fight me, I will have to..." Sorian was cut off by a fist that collided with the back of his head. He fell forward, relinquishing his hold on his sword.
"Idiot, there are two of us!" The first Legionnaire growled.
Dan, near Chorrol
Dan watched with slight annoyance as the guardsmen attacked the Redguard. He never really liked that about guards, they were so quick to draw conclusions...and blades in haste, without properly considering the situation. Gritting his teeth, Dan made wider strides and grasped the hilt of his broadsword, ready to intervene if need be.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Dan shouted telepathically as he started to run lightly. His telepathic boom was sure to get their attention.
Dan, however, had not caught sight of the other traveller who was in the same area, close to the gates.
OOC: Seeing as I'm bored *cough* in class *cough* *cough*, I'll jump in.
Amili, Chorrol
"And then, ya'll wont beleive this one, it was me against a whole slew of the bastards. They also had me cornered, but I managed to take the lot of 'em out. All I came out with was this lil scratch." Everyone, except for a lone fighter, leaned across the table in order to get a better view.
"Hahaha! Yes, you killed every last one of them, Hodrid, I'm sure." Amili turned away from the lot to grab her silver claymore from the rack and fasten it to her back. "Well kids, I have to go run a letter off towards the supplier in the Imperial City. I'm sure I'll have stories when I come back. You know how the roads are getting."
Amili shook her head and pushed open the door, leaving behind calls from her friends and welcoming the fresh breeze through her hair. She smirked when she saw a group of kids chasing each other with sticks as she passed by the Great Oak.
As she neared the gates, Amili had to push her way through a small, but growing, crowd of people. The sight on the other side was depressing. From what she could tell, two guards, whom she has had trouble with in the past, were attacking a traveler and another was jumping into the fray. "Bloody 'ell."
Not even bothering to unsheathe her sword, Amili ran into the pit and swung an armored fist at the head on an unsuspecting guard in an attempt to just get his attention.
Savras
Chorrol
Savras unsheathed his sword but kept it low, pointing towards the ground as he walked towards the guard who had just planted his fist in the back of the Redguard's head.
Just as the guard noticed Savras coming up behind him, Savras reached out towards the guard with his left hand and just as the palm touched the surface of the armor a small flick of light was released. Before the guard could even notice his equipment suddenly felt much heavier he was kicked in the back by Savras, sending him stumbling forward before falling to his knees by burden spell. As the guard was struggeling to even keep himself on his knees, Savras walked up to him, placed his foot on the guard's back and pushed him face down into the ground before he maneuvered his curved blade down against the guards neck.
OOC: Ok, Soul posted quicker - so let's just say I took the one remaining
Sorian, Chorrol.
"Ow." For a moment, Sorian saw a bright burst flash behind his eyelids. When he came to, he was lying facefirst on the ground.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Sorian heard the shout, but his mind blurred it out.
For how long he remained unconscious, he didn't know. All he knew when he came to was, that the guards were trying to kill him and that he was in a very vulnerable position.
"My sword, where is it?!" Was the first thought that came to him. He forced his eyes to open and searched the street around him frantically. Fortunately for him, his sword lay within arm's reach. He grabbed it and rolled over once before, a bit awkwardly, getting back on his feet.
"Now that's dirty." He said slowly to the guards. He then noticed that the guards were occupied by two other persons. More specifically, by a Dunmeri woman and a tanned Imperial. Both seemed to dominate the very same guards that had just wiped the floor with him. Around them, a small crowd had gathered and was still growing.
"Err...what's going on?" He asked warily after taking in the new situation for a moment. His sword hung limp at his side, nearly forgotten.
Just then, another man arrived at the scene. He was a Nord, and in Sorian's eyes an ancient one. The Nord, the Dunmer, the Imperial and himself were the only ones holding weapons. If one discounted the guards. Sorian rubbed the back of his head which felt just as sore as his face.
"Where did they all come from? How long have I been unconscious?"
Amili, Chorrol
Amili picked up the slightly dazed guard she had punched and pushed him up against the stone wall. Looking around she noticed that the other had been incapacitated by a stranger. After giving a curt nod to the stranger and turned back to the guard. "Okay, guard," Amili spoke the rank as if it were an insult, "just what the hell do you think you are doing? Preying on random travelers? Are you two so bored that you have nothing better to do?"
The guard glared back at Amili, "That traveler of yours assaulted us!"
Amili forced herself not to laugh, "That redguard? Look at how he's holding that sword. Even if he did assault the two of you, one could easily has dispatched of him. I think you two were just being troublesome."
The guard tried to speak some feeble protest but was silenced by Amili's glare. She proceeded to roll her eyes and push him into the dirt.
Amili walked over to the Imperial, the Redguard, and, surprisingly, a aging Nord. Addressing the Redguard, Amili gave a slight smile, "You aren't hurt, are you? Those pricks can be a royal pain."
Dalrus, Council Chambers
Dalrus knew Rann was being honest, he was right. She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry it's just that...I really missed you," she said, putting as much tenderness in her voice as she could. I hope he feels the same way. "Oh! I better get in there!" she said indicating towards the door. She turned towards the council chambers...
Rann
"I'll catch up to you later," he said as she walked back towards the Council Chambers, "I'm guessing I can find you at the University?"
Dalrus, Council Chambers
"Yes, I'm usually always there, though of course I do leave from time to time, but for about half my time I am at the university." She thought about doing something before leaving, but decided not to the guy should be the first to do it she thought to herself as she walked into the chambers. She came in to find most of the people already there. The leader of the fighters guild gave her a nod and so did the representative from the Summerset Isle. She took her seat next to Altair and Voltar.
Ian
The sun had risen in the sky, and the vampire paused a moment to feel its warmth on his skill. To think that this warmth is the bane to all other breeds, it certainly gives us advantages. Ian attached his pack to the saddle of his horse.
Since the war's end, he'd realized he could just run or hitch-hike to his destinations anymore. When he'd begun looking for one to purchase many shied away or displayed anxiety at his approach. Eventually the one he chose was the only one that could look him in the eye without being cowed.
Kirana, who had spent the weeks prior collating names, teased Ian with the name Nosferatu. Nosferatu, as he came to be called, soon proved herself to be more than dauntless. As was common knowledge, white horses were only surpassed in speed by the less tough black horses that used to be sold in Cheydinhall.
During the five months she'd been in Ian's ownership, Nosfertu had proven to be quite a fighter (much to Kirana's amusement) kicking a bandit's teeth out. Ian made a habit of not wearing his bloodied armor on the rodes, opting to wear a simple traveler's cloak.
The vampire patted her on the neck and mounted her nimbly. Without any coaxing, Nosferatu leapt over the stable's fence and onto the road.
Rann
Rann walked outside then, in an attempt to clear his head. He hadn't expected to see Dalrus, and therefore was completely unprepared for all subsequent conversations. He did love Dalrus, but he hadn't expected to have to deal with that emotion quite so soon. It was more than he could ask for, the fact that she didn't seem to hate him despite the fact that he left the country for a year.
Dalrus is the only woman that's ever made me act so stupid. I'm pretty sure the first word I said to her was a curse word. Oh well, I'm pretty sure there was spark, unless I just said enough stupid sh*t to put it out.
Flogir, on his way to the Council Chambers
Flogir was busily making his way to the Council Chambers when he caught sight of a familiar friend. Rann was facing away from him but he still clapped a meaty hand on the Dunmer's shoulder.
"Rann! Long time no see," he said with a grin. "You stickin' around for awile now? We should catch up sometime soon. Just come visit me in my office at the Home Guard barracks. It's just east of the Tower once you exit it."
Everything he said was basically in a rush as he knew the meeting was close to beginning. Hopefully the fact that he really didn't give Rann time to answer anything didn't bother the young mer.
He stepped into the Council Chambers and returned the greeting to those present, he noticed that Agrippa had yet to make his arrival. He took his place near the end of the table. His position didn't hold much sway as he only looked after the Imperial City solely, many of the other representatives had whole provinces to look after or entire Legions to look after. Still, he felt privileged that he was at least recognized as a figure of some importance and participated somewhat in these meetings.
OOC: Flogir will pull Agrippa aside after the meeting, Floro.
Dan, outside Chorrol
Dan sheathed his sword, grateful that he had no cause or need to use it. Two strangers had done that for him, forcefully dispatching the guards. They seemed to be skilled, as well as well armed. One of them had a fearsome silver claymore which shone brightly in the sun, while the other had an overall threatening demeanour, and a knowledge of spells to match, judging by the way he dispatched one of the guards.
The vigour of youth. If only I was young once more, I could have dove right in and cleaved left and right with no care for the consequences. Boys straight out of childhood fear nothing after all, but old men know better.
Dan remembered the days of his youth, the days when he could still talk and not just let his sword do the talking for him. But then he remembered that he had done the greatest things in his life with solely his sword, during the siege of the Imperial City. He had slain many foes, and crossed blades with a fearsome champion of the enemy host twice, a feat that not many could boast to have accomplished. Only his few companions could say that, but Dan had not heard about them for quite some time. Of course, living much like a hermit in the mountains generally hardens human contact. Nevertheless, Dan still remembered his former battle-mates.
Rann, with his grim demeanour and fell anger in combat, the Breton Flint Ironwood, with his many japes and pessimistic way of thinking, Rann's sister Amrita, with her dark attire and even darker spells and Jon Constantine, with his drunken stupors.
Such times, however, were gone and Dan was actually grateful for it. Wars were a necessary part of life, but that didn't mean Dan liked them. Neither did he like killing, but it was the only thing he was good at. Exceptionally good at, some might say.
Sorian.
The woman had asked him something.
"Hurt, pricks? Is she on a first name basis with them or something?" He thought.
"Err...I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He stammered only half-coherent.
"Oh, and umm...thanks for the help, I guess." He added with a quick bow.
"Not that I needed it but still, thanks."
He was refinding his capacity to think by now.
"Ok, so they basically jumped the guards after that one acted dishonourable by striking from behind. I can get that. Which reminds me." He bent down and picked up both halves of his handkerchief. With a sigh, he tied both halves together before wrapping it around the blade of his Shamshir again. Finally, he sheathed the sword. Or rather, he simply tucked the naked blade behind his sash.
He next shifted some of his attention to the Imperial.
"I'd like to offer you my gratitude as well, sir. Much obliged."
Sorin, outside of chorrol:
'I need to use the stall' sorin muttered.
Shifting his drowzy eyes, he noticed the gates at chorrol.
Raising his calloused fingers at the gate, he marched towards the gate guards in a swerving, drunk motion.
'Out of the way, monkeys!' he blurted to the mob up front of the gate. Noting the redguard, he lapped his arm around him and demanded; 'Oi! I need u turr.... open the gatessss mate!' he said, blowing a frosty air of mead at the well dressed fellow
Savras
Chorrol
With the female Dunmer keeping the second guard under control and the Redguard got up, Savras pulled back his blade from the guard's neck but kept his blade out, just incase. Taking in note what the Dunmer woman had just said to the guards it seemed that they had caused more problems than preventing them.
Savras nodded in return to the Redguards gratitude.
"You might want to dedicate some more of your time in training with a blade, just an advice..." Savras commented in a rather serious tone, knowing a Redguard should know his blade better. "...so you won't get killed by the likes of these." He added as he looked down on the guard who had a foot pressing down on his neck.
Sorian.
"Well...I uh..." Before he could say anything else, an obviously drunk Dunmer put his arm around his neck while demanding that he opened the gates.
"That's not my task...sir." Sorian answered with unconcealed disgust.
"Stupid drunkard."
He jabbed a thumb at the two guards.
"You might want to ask those two fellas. Though I doubt that they're in a good mood right now."
Sorin, chorrol front gates
'Aww, theys.... look kinda angry' he stated. Poping open another bottle of mead, he moved his arm off the redguard to his bottle of the sweet elixer. Compressing the bottle, he relesed ica magicka to the bottle, taking a fare portion of the mead.
'Gdday....mate... nice dress!' he pointed out. Staggering to the men with the dunmer woman, he pointed at them, gliding his finger from the two guards, to the lady.
'Oi! I need this gate opened....I gotssto pee....and I need another bottle of mead' he smiled. Blowing a air mixed with ice magicka and mead, he tapped at the gate and leaned on it, slowly dosing off.
Indor, Arcane University entrance
Indor had been on the bench for quite a while. He had managed to strike up conversation with one old mage but, though interested, such things weren’t his field of research. He sat watching the steady flow of people and thinking. He would hide his belongings somewhere that night - if it came to it he could always disappear.
To pass the time he started reading over his notes and re-examining the crystal shards. Soon the work absorbed him but not as it sometimes could. He still remembered to look up now and then to try to speak to anyone how might be interested, he even offered to do any other jobs they might want doing.
I don’t want to be thrown out of my house, he thought, Once was enough.
Amili, Chorrol
Amili raised her brow at the drunkard's use of the generic chilling touch spell and then pulled the guard off the floor. "I do suspect that this gentleman is talking to you, guard."
Amili then left the guard to deal with the drunk, or vice versa, and turned to the imperial, "You know, I do thank you for your valiant hand in this, but I will have to ask you to remove yourself from the guard. This is technically assault."
Rann
Rann waved and nodded to Flogir to acknowledge him, since he didn't really have enough time to really respond to the hurrying man. Rann saw where he was going and laughed. All his friends seemed to have become important people all of a sudden. He kept walking through the city, feeling a mixture of familiarity and strangeness in it. So much of the city was the same, but so much was different as well because of the battle and subsequent repairs. The young dunmer didn't know how long Council Meetings usually lasted, but he figured he had a few hours to kill before trying to meet up with either Dalrus or Flogir. He already knew which would come first.
Sorry old man, but you'll have to wait your turn.
Rann stopped for a moment to count his money, which turned out to be a measly thirty Septims. He shook his head regretfully as he remembered losing over two hundred gambling with sailors on the ship. Thirty Septims would last him about two days, he figured, if all he bought was a room and food. That left him no extra money to spend on entertaining himself while he waited.
Leaning his head on the front gate, he said: 'Listen heress....*sigh*....lady....I just need some mead...and a restroom...' as he pointed, continuing to rest his head on the gate.
'Bah.....I needs some help here sir!' He moaned. Strutting towards the guards, he came to a complete and sudden halt. He stopped to wink an the dunmer woman at the gate, then continued on.
'Hey there, fine gentlemen!? Mind if ya let a man through? I've got to leak ashh bad as a guar!' he said, heavily patting one of the guards on the head.
Flen the Tall-Footed Fisher
Near Chorrol Gate
Flen lightly stepped through the mud with four deer skins over his shoulder, almost dragging in the mud. He was already at the end of the road when he left the muddy patch, only a few yards from the gate. As he approached he saw an odd group at the gate and couldn't help but chuckle at the drunk dark elf harassing the guard. He gently pushed the people aside to reach the guards so he could intimidate them. Not in anger, but to merely entertain himself by their scared reaction. His type of humor was always cruel like this, but he doesn't do it often. He mostly picks on the gate keepers when he is in the mood for a good laugh (or a random kid that accidentally bumps into him), but most of the time he's just quiet, grumpy and low-tempered. Maybe it's because he doesn't have anyone that he's even remotely emotional to.
He pushed the drunkard away and approached the guards, who were already a little frightened by him. "Will one of you explain WHY THE HELL THIS GATE ISN'T OPEN!!!!" His voice made one of the guards back away frantically.
(OTC:are you guys inside or outside the gate? If you're inside then I'll edit my post.)
Ian, Gold Road
After following the winding road uphill, Nosferatu slowed to a less brisk pace.
Ian sought Kirana's counsel, now that they were away from distractions. "One year since the Silhoutte was banished, I have little faith in the future Altair's golden age of democrasy."
Kirana stirred, "It's too to see whether this will truly bring peace, but we already know our good friend has ulterior motives."
"Even without Altair's shadiness, the Narza'Tai have proven not everyone is accepting of the new direction being taken." Ian noted.
Nosferatu suddenly perked up and grumbled, ending the communion. The vampire saw immediately what it was. "God's Blood....."
He dismounted and approached the bodies, knowing already what he would find. Countess Umbranox of Anvil was dead.
Sorin, on his hands and knees
With a smile on his drunken face, sorin landed on top of one guard, knocking him out as his own body smothered the already dazed guard. 'What in the bloody hell!?' he grumbled. Rolling off the guard, he shoved another one out of his way as he recovered in a hunched-over looking stance.
'Will one of you explain WHY THE HELL THIS GATE ISN'T OPEN!!!!' A hooded man said to the guards. Noting the obvious tail protruding from the man's clothing, he tackled the argonian down; mouting him with his hands freezing his shirt. 'You *hic* want to play games, slave?' he said. His blue eyes glared through his ruffled hair as he exhaled frigidly 'Well.... i can play games too..' finishing with another cold and deep in-and-exhale.
Flen the Long-Foot Fisher
Flen scowled at the dunmer, unable to move or do much with his chest freezing. "If it wasn't for your magic to protect you, dark elf, youde be spewing your blood on the street." The Argonian out haled deeply. "And I am no slave. Never was, and never will be." Flen was not as furious as he would normally be, for he couldn't help but admire the dunmer for managing to tackle and restrain him so quickly. It wasn't the first time, but it had been a very long time since he was taken down, and that was with five Imperials, and it took them a great deal of time to pull it off. "No...he couldn't be that good..." He said to himself. "If I hadn't of let my guard down that pathetic drunk would be dead."
Ian
The vampire critically studied the scene, there was the obvious visible clues. Wolf tracks, bite and claw wounds, clear signs of an animal attack.
But Ian wasn't restricted by sight alone, nor was Kirana. There was more than enough to be suspicous about.
"The Countess traveled this road for years, she and her guards should have been able to combat a simple wolf pack." Kirana commented.
Ian silently scanned the nearby area. His eyes picked out nothing out of the ordinary, but then he caught a scent.
The vampire's prow furrowed. This smell was not from the Countess or her entourage, or their attackers.
Ian recognized this smell, and he knew what this meant. "That umbrella seller, no doubt this was done under Altair's orders."
"Are you going to tell the people at Brina Cross?" Kirana asked, sensing her friend's anger.
"No, there are other people who need to know. We shan't shatter Amrita's illusion yet." He answered mounting Nosferatu again.
Savras
Savras lifted his boot of the guard's neck before he flipped the guard over on his back with the same foot. He looked down on the guard, his determined and sharp stare gave a clear and confident message to the guard that he wouldn't hesitate repeating himself if the guard tried something, and to make the message a bit clearer he held the tip of his blade under the guards chin.
Savras looked around himself as he sheathed his sword and pulled a hand through his raven-black hair, revealing his pointy ears for a short moment before his hair settled naturally.
"I'd call it assistance." Savras said with a grin as he walked past the female Dunmer before he made his way through the thick crowd and in to Chorrol.
Issac
He considered for a moment. "I know some people who could find Ian before we could."
Issac rose slowly, "We should stay here in Chorrol until the baby is born. The Countess should be informed that I won't be doing any representive work for awhile..."
He trailed off for a moment. "Let's go to Chorrol together, Satyana. We can make some preparations while we're there."
OCC: Brianna and Rahvin are in Chorrol right?
Chorrol, The Oak and (drat... whats the rest of the name...)
Her head tilted at the Imperial sitting next to her. He had been shifting, seat by seat, closer to her for the majority of the last two hours, and now he was finally sitting beside her. "Is therrre something you want?" She asked, purposefully stuttering her r's in the way the furless found so amusing. Sometimes, she berated herself for not using a drunken slur instead. It had the warrented the proper effect, though, the Imperial looked far more interested. Hours later, she left him with nothing but the clothes on his back and a number of empty mugs, she, herself, heading to the gates to go for a walk in the woods. Getting out of the smell of these... cities... is a joy in itself. She murmured quietly to herself as she approached the gate, to come upon a scene of guards, an enraged nord, by the look of him, and a dunmer. Her fur rose on the back of her neck, but she still smiled prefunctionally, inclining her head.
Dalrus, Council Chambers
Dalrus listened and listened, though the councilor from Elswyr contined to ramble about regulation and control of standard trade ship hulls. Why did it matter what hull they used? If they got the goods faster wasn't that a better thing? But of course Elswyr did not have good ships so they wanted to standardize all the provincial ships so those of Skyrim would not always dominate the ship trade. Why did the councilors always try to hide their self-serving interests inside eloquently prepared and obviously rehearsed speeches? Of course Dalrus did this too, but she usually came out with what she wanted to say within a few minutes, not like these politicians who liked to ramble. Dalrus continued to sketch down notes amid a quagmire of tiny drawings, usually cartoons of some of the councilors. She looked over at Altair and he was wearing the same fake expression of mock-interest she was. He gave her a wink and looked back at the councilor from Elswyr. Dalrus's mind continued to wander and then she looked over at the chair Agrippa usually sat in. I forgot, every third meeting he likes to miss because he believes the council will think he is doing something important she thought humorously.
Finally after about another hour in which only the issue was that there was an increasing amount of litter on the Gold Road, the meeting ended. Dalrus waved to Voltar and Altair and gave the counciloress from Hammerfell a quick hug, they had been friends since they both lived in the Imperial City in their youth. Dalrus was the first to leave the meeting, she hoped their plan of a Triumvirate would come to fruition but let it pass and thought of happier things. Now where'd Rann go?
Dan, near the Chorrol gates
The scene had become frantic after several strangers intervened and helped the outnumbered Redguard. Dan chose to simply keep his distance from the struggle and silently watch how events unfolded, choosing wheter to act or not. Since the two strangers were skilled, they quickly overpowered the guards, leaving Dan the simple task of contemplating the events. Since he had no tongue, he could accomplish that task with phenomenal silence, something which many people found unnerving.
The scene took yet another odd turn when a boisterous Dark Elf who had drunk too much spell-cooled mead swaggered in the middle of things, loudly asking the guards to open the gates. An Argonian soon appeared and things took a predictable turn, with the two having a scuffle.
Dan had seen many of these racist scuffles, brawls and arguments in his career as a mercenary so he simply turned aside and waited for things to calm down.
As soon as I can buy that barley and those nails I've been needing to fix the roof, I'll get as far from Chorrol as I can. This place has gotten too crowded for my taste in the last days, Dan reflected as he sat on a nearby rock, waiting for someone to actually open the damned gates. Things were quieter during the war...if a lot more bloody. But I shouldn't complain. Mute men hold no tales, after all.
Sorin, very angry
Baffled at the argonian's remarks, Sorin leaned forward; laying much pressure on his neck than entyhing as he switched to having one icy hand on his neck. Taking a knee, he held Flen down with one icy hand enveloping his throat, and raised his free hand, forming a fine-looking blade.
'Its like... i do and i dont hate argonians....he he he....' he sickly cackled. Looking at Flen's eyes, Sorin made a face like he had shivered fora few seconds. And then he stood up to release him.
'Whaa... who... whats going on?' Sorin grumbled. 'Ah! What the hell is all this ice doing on me?' He screamed, trying to shake off the ice. Noting the Downed argonian, he imediately rushed to his aid.
'Are you ok!? Uhh... dont move, ill get this ice off you!' He jibbered, drawing his daedric katana. Slicing through the ice like butter, he dropped his sword to pick up the downed argonian. Grabbing his shirt, he shook him some-what violently to wake him up. wonder why my mouth tastes like throw-up he thought as he continued to shake the argonian up.
Goblin Jim's Cave, near Skingrad
There was an unfamiliar scent in the den, it had the goblins on edge. After spending a long time in this place, Goblin Jim himself had developed an awareness of the caverns that normal people just didn't have. Something was amiss here.....
Suddenly, a much more disturbing scent became apparent, fresh blood. The goblins scattered throughout the caverns in search of the scent. Jim sat beside a small fire, content with the knowledge that whatever had disturbed this place would be found soon.
Minutes passed, but he distracted himself with some roasted rat meat. In an instant the fire exploded outward as something landed in it. Jim smelled burning goblin flesh, and the odor from earlier was much more powerful.
His vision gradually recovered from the explosion and he saw the goblin shaman's corpse in the smoldering fire circle. A slight motion in his periphery made him spin, unsheathing his shortsword. He found himself staring at the breastplate of a hulking creature.
The intruder was almost twice as tall as him and had a serpantine neck and head. Its head was covered with a mask-helmet of some sort, making its features impossible to see. It growled, a deep warbling rumble, threateningly.
The scent of goblins was all over its armor, and Jim knew all his friends here were all dead. He stayed still, staring where he guessed the being's eyes were. Finally, he attempted to speak. "Wha-"
His question was cut off promptly as the creature grasped his throat with one three-fingered hand. Goblin Jim couldn't managed a gargle, the being's grip was too powerful for any sound to escape his throat. As if he wieghed no more than a twig, the being lifted him off the floor and it held him level with its head.
In one powerful motion, the being threw the human over the edge of his platuea. Jim managed a brief gasp for his burning lungs before striking the floor below. Death took him without hesitation.
Flogir
Flogir stood up and stretched out his aging muscles after the lengthy council meeting was adjourned. His mood was not in a good one as the man he reluctantly wanted to speak to had not arrived. Agrippa supposedly had better things to do.
"Probably sit around in his office, admiring the picture of himself..." Flogir muttered. A councilor turned around with an inquiring look to the Home Guard General but Flogir waved him away by passing it off as talking to himself.
He bid the rest of the council good day and left the Council Chambers shortly after Dalrus left. He was hoping he wouldn't have to do this this way, but with Agrippa being a no-show for the meeting, Flogir was forced to meet the Agrippa on his terms. He made his way to Agrippa's office and asked the two hulking guards standing outside to let him see their commander.
Rann
Rann had killed most of his free time at the Feed Bag. It was exactly as he remembered it from before the Akaviri Invasion; cheap and bland, but filling. Now, though, he sat on a bench in the Elven Gardens munching on his final piece of bread, still wondering what his long term plan was. His ideas ended with meeting up with Dalrus and Flogir.
That thought reminded him that the council meeting would likely be over by now. He tossed the rest of his bread to the birds and started walking back towards the Council Chambers. On his arrival, he saw the councilors exiting the building, and soon spotted Dalrus as well.
He waved to get her attention, as he didn't want to interrupt whatever important work it was that councilors did.
Flen the Long-Foot Fisher
Confused, suspicious and too drained (at the moment) to do anything dumb and irrational (like cutting his or someone else's throat), he just gave him a look that said "I really hate you right now". He could push him again, but it didn't seem to go too well last time. "It would be wise to not do it again...." he spoke darkly, and he really did mean it. He would let it slip this time, but if he gets pushed too far there will be blood to pay (though he wouldn't be foolish enough to go at him immediately. He doesn't even know his weakness yet, if he has one.) He tried to put these thoughts aside for the moment, and decided to focus on the first problem. "Do they want me to climb over?" he sarcasticaly asked himself. "This day is odd....I need a drink....need to think things over."
Issac
He guided the horses from the small stable to the front of the homestead. Issac mounted his chestnut horse with care, and lead the way to the road to Chorrol. We might not be able to ride like this in a while. He realized.
The Altmer had on hand on the reins of his horse and the other gripping his staff which gleamed in the sunlight. "Let's get moving, Satyana, before the normal parade of clients and issues reaches the Countess."
Dalrus, Tower
Dalrus looked around and saw Rann waving to her. gods he's hot she thought to herself. She pulled the band that kept her hair in the pony tail off and whipped her hair out of her face. She sprinted over to Rann and gave him a leaping hug, so he was holding her up. "It was so boring! But it's over," she laughed. When she was finally on the ground again she looked up at Rann's face. "So where do you want to go first?" she said excitedly.
General Agrippa, Legion Section
Another visitor? I better act natural he thought to himself. He grabbed a bunch of maps and old papers and threw them pell-mell over his desk. He always found it looked more important if he had a copious amount of paper work on his desk. Though he kept the little gold plack that stated his position out on the clear part of his desk.
"Who is it?," he said in his well practiced drawl.
Flogir, Legion Quarters
"It's General Flogir of the Home Guard. We've got business to attend to," Flogir answered flatly through the closed door. The tedious meeting had relieved the General of all his patience.
Rann
"What about the Arboretum?" he asked, "I heard that most everything has grown back."
He took her hand and they walked in that direction. It was mid-afternoon and the sun, though getting lower now, sat high in the sky. Most of the plants in the Arboretum had indeed recovered, but a few of the trees were disfigured from the battle that took place a year before. If Rann had been paying much attention to the trees, he would've thought that they only added to the majesty of the rebuilt city.
"So what's happened while I was gone?" he asked, giving Dalrus a playful nudge.
Haldin, James, Archades, outside of Chorrol.
Haldin and Archades both gave a long suffering sigh from where they were mounted on their horses as they tried to block out the steady stream of boastful tales coming from their last companion. James had fortunately mellowed out somewhat after the war, but he was still an insufferable sarcastic git sometimes, and after three hours of constant prattling about contupers and football or some such nonsense Haldin had enough.
"James, kindly take a biscuit then shut the hell up", he said tiredly as he handed over some of his homemade biscuits, and fortunately James stopped talking and went on to eat as many as fast as possible, beside him Archades sighed in relief.
"So Haldin, might I ask why we are going to Chorrol, we have no evidence at all that your dissappeared aunt is anywhere near here", Archades said as he studied Haldin.
Haldin simply raised an eyebrow at the venerable mage. "Who ever said that we came here looking for Salina, no I simply wanted to return to Cyrodiil a bit, and Chorrol is the closest city from the direction we have been travelling, besides we need a place to stay and Chorrol is a good a place as any, an no Aylied ruins do not make good resting places, they are usually filled with bandits and other undead if you remember".
"Fine", Archades said with a sigh. "I cant help it that I find Aylied ruins fascinating".
In silence they rode a little further, and then they could see a huge group staqnding outside the gate for some reason, though with the way guards acted these days they were not really surprised.
"Look it's the old goat", James said suddenly as he stared over the group of people, and true enough standing a reasonable distance away from the maingroup stood an old Nord whom neither Haldin nor James had seen in over a year, and before Haldin or Archades could offer a warning James shot forward on his horse.
"Always on the move", Archades mumbled dejectedly as both he and Haldin spurred their horses onwards as well.
"Ello you old man", James said jovially as he jumped from the saddle and landed before Dan. "You owe me a bottle of Flin now that the war is over remember?" he said with a grin.
"I apologise for his behavior Dan, it has been some time since we last met", Haldin said with a nod as he dismounted. Allow me to introduce our final traveling companion Archades Dupious", he said as he gestured to the white haired Altmer.
Dan, outside Chorrol
While Dan stood and watched on, he heard some voices calling in his direction. At first he sighed, thinking some more ignorant foreigners had come to Chorrol to gape at the closed gates and the dazed guards, but as he lazily turned his head in the direction of the newcomers, his face lit up.
In front stood two men that Dan thought to be dead: Haldin and James. Haldin was the Dunmer warrior that had intervened in Dan's first clash with the Akaviri champion, riding bravely through the enemy ranks so as to reach the breach in the walls, and James was a misfit who had saved Dan's life twice, and who had almost died fighting the alien beast after dealing the creature a terrible blow with his odd dirks.
Dan felt quite pleased and surprised to see the two standing before him, along with a mage who he did not know. If he had a tongue he would have shouted out proclaiming his joy and surprise but since he didn't, he simply rose and smiled, after a faint attempt at chuckling. Without a tongue, his mouth only made an unnerving gurgling sound. He still abandoned his stiff politeness, however, hugging both James and Haldin at once with his sturdy arms.
"It is truly wonderful to see you both here, my friends! Truly, true companions come unlooked for, as you two did during the siege, all those months ago. It was only a year, but already it seems like we have been parted for ages. How great it is to be reunited once more!" Dan said with a hearty telepathic tone. He then turned to James, smiling even more.
"And I remember my promise, you mischievous imp. Let it never be said that Dan does not hold his word! As soon as we enter the city, I'll buy you the finest flin this city has to offer and it there is none, I'll take you all the way to Morrowind to find some." Dan said, smiling as he did. "But then you'd have to pay for the drinks since I'm not that rich."
Saira, Chorrol Gates
Moving back like an autumn breeze into the trees, she watched a... touching, if quiet, reunion. The gate had yet to open, the nord and other combatants stilldoing whatever they were doing, while the guards stood about in thier daze. She smiled, Someone one-upped the guards for once.
Flen the Long-Foot Fisher
Flen picked up the deer skin he had previously dropped and immediatly slid through the opening gates when it the gap was wide enough for his slim body to fit. "This is my last shipment" he said to the owner of the tavern as he walked in.
"What do you mean?" the owner asked in surprise.
"I'm done. I have no home. I need real pay." He replied as he threw the skins ontop a stack of crates.
"Where will you go?!" he asked, annoyed the argonian is doing this at short notice.
Flen left the tavern without saying anything else. "I don't know..."
Dan
Dan would have laughed but he was nonetheless glad that his friends had not changed. Well, the friends that he had met so far. He hadn't seen many of the people he had known during the war for quite some time. Thankfully, Haldin and James were the same.
"And I am honoured to meet you also, master Archades. It is long since my eyes have set upon a spell-weaver such as yourself." Dan said with a nod towards the wizard. "So, what brings you to Chorrol? Such an odd lot as yourselves travelling together, now that's sure to attract attention."
Hopefully not unwanted attention, Dan thought to himself.
Sorin, tailing Flen
Confused of the current events, sorin thought to him self 'This is the third day I've zoned out. Looking towards the sky, he shifted his attention his sword.
He came to a slight jog as he picked his sword off the floor as he tailed the argonian. 'Think I owe him an apology.... and maybe a drink...because I sure as hell need one..' He said.
Looking for the argoinian, he caught the fellow trudging from a tavern. 'Hey! You feelin alright? How bout a drink? Hear this tavern has some great wine and some finely roasted deer meat!' he exclamed.
'Im really sorry, I didn't meen to come close with my sword, I was just tryin' ta help ya with the ice you had on your self' he explained. 'This isn't the first time I've dozed off into problems...this happens alot;' he said sadly, but happly followed up, saying 'But hey! At least im gaining valuable knowlage and experincing the life out of the jeril mountains!'
Flen
It was just one thing after the other for this argonian. Now the dunmer was apologizing? He was acting innocent, as if his previous actions had never happened. Flen saw it as a sick joke, as if he was laughing at him. His expression soon turned from confused to furious. His knuckles cracked from the fierce grip of his fist.
Issac, nearing Chorrol
The homestead was not far from the city, which made the commute there almost everyday easier on them both. As they neared the main gate, Issac noticed a gathering crowd of people. Curious, people normally gather at the Great Oak not the main gates to socialize.
Normally people kept their horses in the stables outside the city, or paid to hitch them beside on of the inns, but since both Issac and Satyana had regular business in the Castle, they were able to keep their horses in the courtyard.
The Altmer lead Satyana toward the gates, skirting the main mass of the crowd.
Agrippa, Imperial Fort
Agrippa's face became stonelike when Flogir refused to exchange pleasantries. The differences between the two men could not be more evident than now. Agrippa quickly recovered "Umm business? I was not aware of any business, though I suppose I cannot know when every business affair I'm involved in has a problem," he said hautily. "What is the issue now? I suppose some of your men have been arguing with some of my men?" he said as if it was Flogir's fault.
Dalrus, Arboretum
Dalrus looked over at Rann and smiled "A lot of stuff has been going on, I've hardly had time for anything but work," she said truthfully. "The months after the battle in the Imperial City were some of the busiest times I have ever seen here. Obviously a year and a half long siege will do a lot of damage to a city, however, I did not know how much damage. It was incredible, the Plaza, Elven Garden, and Temple districts were hardly more than ashes and rubble. The Green Emperor way was utterly destroyed, the Arboretum was practically burnt, and the corpses in the city were more than likely outnumbering the living. So many citizens and soldiers died, I am surprised the population of the city could sustain such losses. However, we pulled through those awful months. I completely forgot about the Arcane University. The Mages guild spent all of our time here, helping, that we forgot about our headquarters. We were all living in a large string of apartments in the Market district," she stopped and looked as if she was trying to remember.
"When we arrived in the Arcane University we were not sure what to expect. We got attacked there, some of the Akaviri mages decided to start and opperation there. You see the tower was the only thing left, everything else had been destroyed. We fought with them and won after quite the fight, the Legion and Homeguard came in at the end and together we wiped out the remaining mages who had held themselves up in my bedroom." she stopped and examined a flower for a second before reverting back to her story.
"So the work of reconstruction began. We had more skilled mages than the mages guild ever had and so the Arcane University is much better now. All the buildings are rebuilt and enchantments are so deep into the place it is unlikely ever to be destroyed. When you walk in you will see that the floor is always covered in a mist. The Dining hall has been refurbished and is now a great building all its own. We have transports which take people to meditatation centers which are far out in the ocean. The Mystic Archives are enormous and the books float without bookcases. Now all you need to do is ask the librarian and she will summon the book. Dueling has become more involved in our lessons, battle mages are in higher demand as a major because of the war last year. I myself teach the Senior Dueling class and also the class on Ancient Runes, though that is not my favorite. Since I have united all the masters of the magic classes we have been in much better shape," she finished her story and looked over at Rann.
Flogir
Flogir walked into the office upon hearing Agrippa's remark. Flogir's scowl clearly displayed his mood over the current situation. As he took a seat he still decided to take a civil tone of voice with the Legion Commander.
"It has come to my attention that a few of my men are currently incarcerated for assaulting off-duty Legionnaires. I have heard accounts claiming that your men goaded mine into the brawl. I've come to seek an amicable release of my men," Flogir plainly stated.
Sorin, in the streets of chorrol
'Whats wrong with you? You look angry' he said, noting the obvious glare he was reciving from Flen. Felling somewhat confused, he asked him 'Whats wrong with you? I said i was sorry... theres no need for any hate.'
'If any wrongs or injustice has been placed onto you, im sorry, but thats not my fault.... you're just going to have to forgive and forget friend!' Sorin said. He dusted the argonian's shirt, while still beckoning him to have a meal at the inn
Saira, Outside Chorrol
She edged from the willowy trees about the road, and mingled through the crowd, careful not to step on toes or get her tail caught on anything, from a knights shield to under a adventurers foot. She made it to the other side in time to take advantage of the ripples of space the two horses were making in the mob, and followed behind them as they headed into town.
Agrippa, Imperial Fort
Agrippa gave an entirely fake smile to Flogir and pretended to put away important documents. "Well I suppose we could be exchanging accounts of 'they goaded that group,' or 'they were seen arguing with them,' all day but the fact remains, they attacked my men off-duty, so obviously it would be a tedious amount of paperwork, and quite frankly a large amount of illegal use of my powers. I am not sure about you but the powers vested to me by the most illustrious government is not to be tampered with because of four men were incarcerated, I am sure you understand," he smiled again and beckoned to the wine glass on the desk. This was of course...bullsh** for Agrippa constantly used his powers illegally and rarely thought before using his influence for his own gain, but when it suited him he lied his way through everything.
Dalrus, Arboretum
Dalrus enjoyed hearing about his trip to the Summerset Isles, she had only been there once and that was for a quick but decisive training session with one of the best Destruction teachers. That had been years ago.
"Don't worry about it, I knew you were joking, I was just really happy you were back so I was emotional," she smiled at him. Valas huh? Rann Valas, sounds sexy, sounds like a Dunmer model she thought to herself. "Dalrus Varus and Rann Valas, not too different," she laughed. "Dalrus Valas...sounds good," she let it slip before she could stop herself. She looked up at Rann, embarrassed.
Flogir
Flogir suppressed a sigh and took the wine and poured two glasses. It appeared he would have to do some convincing. He was going to disappoint Agrippa by not groveling. Flogir knew Agrippa liked to receive the treatment of a king but Flogir was not prepared to give that to him.
Flogir took a sip of the wine and managed to keep a straight face. Wine was not his alcohol of choice; too fruity for his tastes.
"A simple pardon would actually clear things up quite quickly. Very little paperwork is required for that," Flogir began before pausing to take another sip. "I'll even do you a favour and write the paperwork for you. All you'll simply need to do is sign it."
Amili Canthus -> Chorrol; Gates
Amili pushed her way through the crowd to a wall in an attempt to get away from the torrent of people. Amili noticed an Altmer leading another around the crowd on a horse, heading towards the gates.
Cripes. Don't tell me those n'wahs think they can just trot into the city with those things.
Edit: For accuracy
Issac, near Chorrol's gate
As they rounded the crowd, Issac noticed a Dunmer woman in their path. Her expression was not approving.
Issac doubted she would obstruct their passage for long. The guards managed passing nods in their direction as Issac and Satyana passed.
Amili -> Chorrol Gates
Amili calmly walked up to the Altmer and his companion and attempted to put on her best "welcome to our city" face, which, to the untrained eye, would completely absolve any looks of hostility.
"You two are welcome into our city, but I will have to insist that we will not allow your horses to be wandering the streets. Scrubbing the distinct brown tint out of the streets is a royal pain." After gesturing towards the stables, she continued, "The stable has plenty of room and I'm sure they wont be treated poorly." She smiled sardonically.
ooc: Not quite sure if I used sardonically correctly...
OCC: if you meant sarcastic, it was correct.
Issac
He listened to the dunmer patiently, nodding slightly at the valid suggestion. When she gestured towards the stables, Issac dropped down from his Chestnut.
A wry smile took shape. "Sera," he began lightly. "My wife and I are courteseans of Arriana Valga; we live on a small homestead to the south. It is our intent to make use of the castle's stables, as we seek an audience with the Countess herself."
The altmer planted his silver cane emphatically, his face a portrait of kind cheerfulness. "Is this acceptable, M'lady?"
Amili -> Chorrol Gates
Amili stood there for a moment after the courtesan finished and then rolled her eyes. "M'lady? I haven't heard that one before." Amili stopped to ponder her thoughts for a moment and, for the first time in a long time, the thought that she was over stepping her duties if they were, in fact, guests of the countess slipped into her mind.
Amili gave a slight bow while keeping her eyes fastened to the Altmer. "I'll be escorting you to the castle stables then."
ooc: M'kay, i figured as much, but wasn't sure. And yes.... Amili does have a unhealthy amount of skepticism...
Issac
He answered her with a nod, the cheerful shine dimmed slightly. "Very well, then." Issac reached for his horse's reins and coiled them around his wrist. "Satyana, let's get to the countess." The Altmer smiled to his lover.
Satyana
She listened to issac's conversation with the dunmer woman with a faint smile.
"Maybe we should introduce ourselves?" she suggested and stretched out her hand to the woman
"Greetings Sera, I'm Satyana and this is Issac, my husband"
Amili -> Chorrol Gates
Amili took Satyana's hand and shook it. "And I'm Amili Canthus, Guardian of the Fighter's Guild."
Gesturing towards the castle stables, Amili started to head off towards the castle with the two.
Issac
The Altmer strode beside his horse rather than mounting him again. His cane in his right hand and the reins in his right. He glanced back at Satyana and Amili thoughtfully, unable to decide if he should start announcing the news to this guardian, or wait for the Countess's audience...... With difficulty he decided against it, if Satyana wanted to than that was her prerogative as the mother.
"There's no harm in doing your civic duty, Sera." Issac said instead, "Why are the people gathered before the gates rather than the Great Oak?"
Amili -> Chorrol
As Amili guided Satyana's horse with a steady hand, she grinned when Issac asked his question. "There was a commotion. Two guards were, more or less, picking on a redguard pilgrim or some such. The adrenaline has yet to die down, I'm assuming. " Amili glanced back at the gates, seeing a slow stream of talkative townsfolk trickle through the door. "Well, at least they will have something to talk about. They're a boring lot, really."
Issac
The Altmer glanced in the direction of the crowd, noticing many of the citizens were glancing Amili's way every so often before resuming their conversation. Thoughtfully, Issac looked the Dunmer over. From the looks she's getting Amili had something to do with that situation's resolution......
He returned her smile with a well-practiced, polite grin. As they passed under the archway to Castle Chorrol, Issac said to Amili. "Here is were you are finally rid of us, Sera. Thank you for escorting us." A stable boy opened the gate for them.
"May fortune smile upon you," He bid the guardian farewell, heading for the great hall.
Amili -> Chorrol Castle
As the were walking up towards the castle, Amili noticed the town's folk glancing at her and ignored the suspicious look that the Altmer gave her.
Upon reaching the stable, Amili saw them in the right direction, and settled for a wave.
Issac
As Amili waved and walked back to Chorrol, Issac took Satyana's hand and together they crossed the threshold to the waiting room. Thankfully, the large crowds had yet to arrive, so the only occupants were the other courtesans and the various people who lived in the castle.
Issac nodded to Valga's herald, who approached the Countess, while they waited outside. He gave Satyana a reassuring look and squeeze on her shoulder.
Countess Valga
She was surprised when the herald told her who was awaiting an audience; Issac did have the day off. She sent the herald back to show them in.
"Hello, Issac and Satyana," she greeted as they entered the audience chamber, "What brings you two here today?"
Issac
The altmer felt an unconscious bounce in his step. A lifetime of lessons in the politics of nobility, kept him from announcing the news immediately.
He stopped at the feet of the stairsteps leading to Valga's throne, both hands on his cane. "Countess, I know you weren't expecting me until tomorrow, but some things have come up that I felt could not wait."
Issac paused for a heartbeat. "Satyana and I are expecting a child soon, and I ask for someone else to be your representative with the other counties so that I may be present to raise our child."
Countess Valga
The Countess smiled, but it was obvious that there was more on her mind than the expected child.
"First, I want to congratulate you and Satyana. I'm sure you both will raise a fine little boy or girl," then she sighed, "But I have to be honest, these are tough times and your help is needed. There aren't many of us left that support the old ways, and too many people in favor of Altair's democracy. On top of that I just recieved the horrific news that Countess Umbranox was found dead on the road. Is there no way you could continue working for at least a couple of months?"
Satyana
"Th...thank you countess" Satyana blushed, then she grabbed Issac's arm and said:
"Maybe we....we could help out for a while? I feel great and the baby isn't due until six months from now..so what do you say Issac? Shall we be of assistance to the great Countess?"
Issac
His eyes widened, and his hands fell to his side, the right dragging the cane awkwardly. A few more months was reasonable, but Millona Umbranox dead!?
"Dead.... on the road?" Issac's mind raced, Umbranox had traveled that path for years, it seemed wrong she'd end up dead after these years.
"Of... Of course I will serve for a few months..." He furrowed his brow, still accepting the ramifications.
Countess Valga
The Countess sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of relief, not exasperation.
"Thank you, Issac. You have no idea how important you really are around here, and anything you can do I appreciate."
"But don't worry about work just now; stay in the city, celebrate with your family, relax. We'll talk about business tomorrow."
Altair/Veric
The Council meeting was over, and the chambers were empty save Voltar and himself.
"The Ayleid power source sits below us, right now," he said, seemingly out of nowhere, "All the power in the world just sitting there waiting to be tapped, yet we don't know how."
"I've studied every sketch of the original White Gold Tower's construction in the library, but none of them even depicted it. That's what happens when people that didn't even build the thing start to draw its blueprints, and I doubt the Ayleids would be willing to just hand over that kind of information to their conquerors."
"We've hit a pretty big obstacle here, Voltar. We may have to delay the "Second Akaviri Invasion" a few more months."
Issac
The Altmer felt some of the tension lift, and he straightened again. "Thank you, Countess Valga."
He met the Countesses' eyes and nodded. She could depend on him. "Until tomorrow," Issac said, turning to leave with Satyana.
Satyana
She bowed to the countess and smiled
"I can still make myself useful to you Countess, I can still work in the kitchen, like I used to...Can't I Issac?"
OCC: I'm afraid that I'm going to be a tad lazy and trail off on the two lovers for awhile.
Issac
"For awhile, of course," he replied. Issac noticed the herald was talking to other people at the entrance. "Let's get going, 'Tyana."
He nodded to the herald and the new party as they passed. It had brightened considerably outside during the brief meeting. Issac took a deep breath of fresh air, and turned to Satyana. They stood there for a sweet eternity, oblivious to everything but the other's smiling face.
------------
Plys'Iea
The hunter watched impassively as the legionnaires studied his most recent work. These are not prey, these are but practice....... He was not blind to how the citizens of this land looked upon these..... guards. He'd observed some of these very men...... dealing with the citizens. Neither side had the hunter's sympathy, these men were the strong, they had the privilege to claim the weak's possesions as ther own. But at the same time, these soldiers were wretched things, without honor or disipline.
The hunter considered them in the same group as the necromancer Mannimarco, vile things. They did not deserve respect or recognition, but he did delight in seeing these wretches suffer for their shortcomings. The heat of the day caused them to remove various pieces of their armor, as expected.
"I'm going to get a drink, be right back" One of the humans departed for the well by the edge of town. Silently, the hunter approached while the guard struggled with the bucket. He could have killed him instantly in any number of ways, but that was not the alien's intent.
His hand reached out, his palm over the man's mouth, cutting off his inhalation. The pathetic creature's struggles could not free it. He waited a moment after the human went limp and released his grip. The hunter set about his punishment.
Indor
Indor walked despondently through the streets. He’d had high hopes of finding some luck in the University but there hadn’t been the sort of interest he’d hoped for. It wasn’t long before he found himself in the Arboretum district. He liked to walk there to think and look at the trees. It was also possible to filch some ingredients when it was quiet.
He took a seat under a tree and idly watched the people go about there business. Most passed straight though hurrying from one place to another but others were just there to enjoy the park. A couple wandered on the grass on the other side of the road. By the way they were speaking it appeared they’d been apart for a while. He shook himself when he realised he’d been looking but he was sure he recognised the lady but couldn’t think where from.
Then it came to him. She was the archmage and on the council. If anyone was both in a position to help him and inclined to it would be her but would she want to deal with a commoner? The circumstances might dent his welcome too… He glanced back over, they were just standing enjoying each other’s company.
Fortune favours the bold, he thought as he plucked up the courage to go over to them.
OOC: I'm not sure is they've finished their conversation so if not ‘plucking up the courage’ could take a while to let them finish, otherwise he’ll go to speak to them now.
Plys'Iea
The hunter stood on a wooden support that was surrounded by the rubble of what once was a small house. All fo the guards were dead, save one. The survivor lay on the ground at the base of his vantage point. At last the man roused himself. No sooner did he open his eyes did he begin to writhe uncontrollably.
Several small fragments of his legion armor were embedded above his midriff, in his biceps, and quadriceps. With his armor removed, the legionnaire was covered in mud and clothed in a tunic and short pants. The hunter watched as the guard went limp, exhuasted from his agony-induced spasms.
Over the breeze blowing through, the hunter felt the approach of a brown bear. With a satisfied humph, he dropped down from the support and dissappeared into the forest. If the wretched sentients here attempted to track him, he would lead them a merry chase.
Brianna
Brianna slowly went outside. The sun was shining and she knew she would find Rahvin sitting outside the house, probably puffing on his old stinking pipe, contemplating as usual, not making any fuss of himself. Sometimes she was hoping he would just not be so nice and quiet, that he would be a little bit like the stubborn young assassin he used to be. But then again they had a good life now, no threats, nobody chasing them around Tamriel. It was almost too good to be true.
"Rahvin, my love, are you ok? I'd like to discuss something with you....you see...I have an idea, I need your opinion.."
She put her hand on his head, gently touching his hair
I love him so much...I hope....
Rahvin
"That's a great idea," he said, "I'll try to find more ingredients for you today so you can start building a larger supply."
"Or..." he said, dramatically pausing for a moment to convey the idea that he had just come up with a great idea, "...we could both go. Then it will be less like work and more like fun."
Brianna
"Yes!, that would be like the old days, you and me going out doing things together. I'll just get my things ready and we can go now....I'll prepare some food so we can have a picnic on the way"
She sang as she went inside to prepare for the trip, so what food to bring? She took her biggest satchel and put in some bread, cheese, vegetables and a bottle of comberry juice. She thought about bringing a bottle of brandy as well, and decided to do it. Then they needed a couple of blankets, in case they had to spend the night outside or if there would be a chilly evening.
Naturally the plan wasn't to spend days out there, but her gut-feeling told her to be prepared....
She went over to Rahvin where he was standing preparing his gear and hugged him from behind....
He used to be very angry when someone sneaked up on him, she remembered once , long ago, when she was almost killed doing just what she was doing now, but she was convinced he'd be more patient now
"Rahvin", she whispered, her cheek tight to his back, "Are you ready, love?" She pressed herself tight to his back
Indor
The couple seemed unaware of him as he approached but when he got closer the dunmer looked up. The woman followed his gaze and also looked at Indor. The startling green of the woman’s eyes made him pause momentarily. He remembered himself just quickly enough and bowed deeply.
“My lord and lady,” he said, “I have a preposition which may be of interest to those such as yourselves on the council.” In truth he’d never seen to dunmer man before but it wouldn’t hurt to scrape a little. “I hope this is not too great an imposition?”
Rahvin
"You want me drunk so I'll agree to buying this place!" he accused jokingly, "It's in shambles, isn't it?"
They had a bit of a laugh as they headed for the tavern. The bar was full, and Ragnar seemed busy, so they sat down at a table in the far corner of the room. They ordered their drinks, and the barmaid rushed off to fill their order.
"Are you okay?" he asked, after he noticed that Brianna seemed to be putting her hand on her head an awful lot.
Brianna
She was in a joyful mood despite the terrible headache, Rahvin was joking with her and she liked that very much, he needed to have fun and he needed to show it....she smiled ; he was joking about her getting him drunk so he wouldn't object to buy the place she'd found.....well there was a bit of truth in that joke really....
"Ah I'll probably be ok, there's not much a nice brandy can't cure, but I've had a bit of headache lately, mostly in mid day....might be the heat or something"
She sighed and emptied her glass
"Well we could have another one of these....." she giggled "So you will se the beauty of the place I'd like to have!"
Saying this she burst out in laughter "Oh dear dear Rahvin, don't look so scared, it's not that bad"
But almost, there's a lot of work to do before we'll get it in order....Now that's one part of it, we will be able to do something together, some practical work...I'd love that sweetie
Indor
Indor watched the Imperial messenger hurried off with the archmage. “Telvanni,” he muttered under his breath, “Swits…” he stopped realising not everyone agreed and hoping he hadn’t been heard.
“Well sir… sorry, Rann… are you interested in any alchemical or academic services I may be able to offer.” Indor eyed Rann’s weapons, “I doubt you are a scholar of the ancients though I could be wrong.”
And who are you? he wandered, Cheap clothes but with the archmage.
Indor
Indor raised an eyebrow. “Currently I am researching certain stones left by the Ayleid’s. Truly fascinating properties…” He grimaced slightly and rubbed at his bandaged hand, “Quite exceptional.” He stopped well aware of how dull his studies often seemed.
“Tell me what is it you ‘dabble’ in? Is the work you propose related?” He had a good feeling: Rann didn’t look like most dabblers. They were normally nobles who read the odd book to look clever or fantasists who wanted to find some hidden secret or treasure from a fairy story. He would have put money on Rann being neither.
Rann
"I just happen to have a vested interest in a solving an old mystery, and I since I'm no magickal or historical expert, I try to get all the help I can. Unfortunately not all help is trustworthy. But that isn't the point. Listen, I'm leaving to go to Chorrol tomorrow, and I know that the Alyeid ruin Lindai is on the way. If you wanted to study those ruins, I can help clear them out so you can get a good look."
He pulled his counpouch off his belt and looked inside.
"I'll throw in drinks too."
Indor
Indor struggled to keep his jaw from dropping. The Dunmer was either seriously good or seriously insane. When he’d approached the fighters guild about protection in a ruin he’d had to sit down after they told him what it would cost to hire enough men. Now he had an offer to poke around one as much as he wanted. Had he been of the disposition he would have wandered whether he was dreaming.
“That sounds quite acceptable,” he said trying to keep his excitement from showing, “Indeed it should greatly further my research, a deal then. Now about those drinks?”
Rann
"I'll pack them," he replied, "Just meet me tomorrow morning at eight at the stables just outside the gate."
OCC: Sorry, I've been a little distracted of late, I'll move Issac and 'Tyana forward.
Issac, Chorrol
For awhile they just walked Chorrol's streets, greeting many of the townspeople they knew and alternately conversing as they walked. Issac hadn't been paying attention to the sky so it came as a surprise when the clouds above began raining.
Before he or Satyana could get soaked, he threw up a weak shield sphere to keep them dry. The rain began to pour, and Issac looked to Satyana. "So, where do you want to go now?"
Indor
Indor’s mind buzzed as he walked back towards the waterfront. One good look at the ruin could reveal so much, and offer a chance to get more stones to study. He was slightly tempted to go into The New Float but he hadn’t the money. He smiled, he might be abandoning his home but at least he wasn’t going to give them their rent.
The smile evaporated as he passed behind the Imperial Trading Company. The door of his house hung like a wilted leaf from one hinge. A couple of other houses had suffered similarly - other houses the bailiff had visited. Indor ignored them and ran into his.
The ground outside was stained with mangled ingredients and broken bottles. Inside was bare. What they couldn’t sell smouldered in the fire. They had even lifted some floorboards in their search. “Fetchers,” he growled trying to conjure a fireball to destroy their shack. The resultant wisp of flame barley marked the wall. He swore again and sat trying to calm his mind.
It was full dark when he left though the broken window. He wasn’t sure if anyone was watching. If they were they might miss him. When the first debt collectors had come he had stashed his only valuables in a wax cotton bag under a stone down the coast. He kept to the shadows on his way there. The mortar and pestle - considerably better than mages guild standard issue - staff and other oddments he’d left there were as they had been.
For a moment he pondered what having readied this said about him but he put it aside for later and started towards the stable looking for a place to spend the night.
OCC: Rahvin can spot Issac and Satyana. I don't want Dantrag to miss the reunion.
Issac
He glanced around the tavern, seeing it was mostly full. "Well, we're out of the rain." Issac ran a hand up and down Satyana's back and both sleeves. Heated from a weak use of fire, the touch got rid of the dampness, mostly.
After drying himself off in the same way, the Altmer scanned the tavern again for empty tables.
Rahvin
Rahvin always sat in a chair facing a building's door, if possible. It was an old habit formed from years of having to kill people. This time though, the figures walking through the door were not targets, nor did they bring trouble; they were friends.
Rahvin nudged Brianna, "Look, it's Satyana and Issac."
He stood to get either Issac or Satyana's attention and motioned for them to come to the table.
Rann
Rann walked to the Market District where he purchased a bed at the Merchant's Inn. Twenty Septims left. That would get him a breakfast and some cheap arrows before the journey.
Rann sat down at the small desk in his seemingly smaller room and began writing two letters. They were made out to Dalrus and Flogir, apologizing for leaving the city so soon but explaining that he was in a hurry to visit his family in Chorrol. It was true, but he had to admit to himself that he wouldn't be leaving quite so soon if there wasn't a percieved adventure ahead.
He walked back into the streets as he hunted down a messenger. He handed the letters to the first one he spotted.
"Can you deliver these today?" he asked.
"That will be seven septims," the messenger replied.
So much for that breakfast. he thought as he put the coins in the boy's hand. He went back to his room immediately. There was a long day ahead.
Indor
Indor woke early. He’d slept in the lea of the city wall, his cloak forming a sort of tent over him. His stiff muscles protested as he sat up and looked out over Lake Rumare, the sun still only a glow in the east. The waters looked inviting.
Even after washing he reached the stables early so he passed the time re-fletching his darts and scanning the ground for any interesting ingredients.
Rann
The rising sun shone brightly in Rann's window, bringing him out of his slumber. He readied his things, swiped a few bottles of brandy unnoticed, and left the inn. On his way out of the city, he stopped by an armorer's shop to purchase a few iron arrows. They weren't the best arrows, but they were straight, sturdy, and sharp; more than enough to kill something.
A short walk later, he spotted Indor by the stables fletching darts.
"Sorry I'm late," he said as he approached, "I had to get those drinks."
Indor
“Good,” said Indor, “It’s a bit early to be having them yet but we’ll be warm later.” He put away his darts and stood. “We had best go then.”
As they walked across the rebuilt bridge, the fresh stone shining in the morning light, Indor glanced back at the Imperial City over his shoulder. Being back on the road was good. He’d stayed too long and didn’t think he would miss the place.
Brianna
"What dear?" She looked up at Rahvin, the she saw what he saw and a bright smile developed in her face
"Is it? Is it really Satyana? And Issac....oh yes it is!" She waved at the couple, hoping they'd notice
She looks tired, I hope she's OK
A mother's concern, as always...
Satyana
She noticed Rahvin immediately with a ping of joy, he was with....her mother..
She looks so young, and happy, I didn't know she was so beautiful
"Issac, there's Rahvin, look! And my mother is with him,I think they want us to sit with them, come on dear!"
She grabbed Issac's hand and headed for the table where Rahvin and Brianna were seated
"Rahvin!" she exclaimed, "It's so good to see you, oh yes it's good to see you to Mother" she added
Rann
Despite the fact that he had just ended his journey back from the Isles the day before, Rann liked being on the road. At the same time, though, he felt a bit guilty for leaving on such short notice without even telling Dalrus or Flogir.
"We've got a lot of time to kill," he said after a long stint of silent walking, "So what's your story?"
Rahvin
"Satyana! Issac! How are you both?" he greeted, sliding a bottle on the table towards them, "Come, sit, drink, smoke, talk."
Mentioning smoke suddenly reminded Rahvin of his pipe. He brought forth a small pouch of tobacco and began stuffing his pipe as their company sat down to join them.
Indor
Indor was relieved when Rann broke the silence but it took him a moment to reply. “How far back? I arrived in Cyrodiil as the war ended looking to study Ayleid remains. To start with everyone was too busy rebuilding to be interested. My money ran out and I got stuck in the city. Never had enough to make more but never had so little that I wanted to cut and run. Until the last couple of weeks anyway.” He paused thinking. He’d have left much sooner when he was younger. “Still looks like I’m making progress again,” he smiled, “Soon I’ll know how much of the theories on them are true.”
“Before I came to Cyrodiil I was on Vvardenfell…” he broke off. “Anyway what’s your story?”
Indor
Indor laughed. “Not so strange as the one I met. Well maybe.” He went to the roadside and stooped to pick a toadstool. “Hmm, blue entoloma, strangely enough a species of pinkgill.” He put it in his pack.
“Your roots must run deep to spend a year seeking them.”
Rann
"You're telling me," he answered, "That whole year taught me very little. I did learn some things, but not a year's worth of information. It was worth it for the experience though. The Isles are like a whole different world."
Rahvin
Satyana was not his daughter by blood, obviously, but they did have a kinship that said as much. She was as much his daughter as Rann was his son (more so over the past year), and her child would undoubtedly be his grandchild. Rahvin couldn't help but smile when he heard the news.
"That's great! Congratulations."
Indor
He frowned biting back a comment about altmer. He could think of few things worse than a land full of them. For a moment he thought about asking Rann more about why he had gone there but he decided against it. Sooner or later he would find out the full story and he was content to wait.
“How far away is this ruin then?” he asked.
Rann
"Lindai is just off the road about halfway to Chorrol," he answered, "We'll turn north once we reach Fort Ash."
The two walked on until the mid-afternoon, sticking to the road until they stood in full view of the ruined fort. True to his word, Rann turned to the north, leaving the road and entering the forest.
"Another hour, at most," he commented, giving Indor a heads up.
OOC: you don't mind that I sped up the journey a bit do you? if so, I can edit.
Indor
Indor was faintly surprised that such a fort would be abandoned but then times were hard. The going was slower in the forest but they made good time and it was well within the hour when white spires became visible above the tree line. He felt a thrill of anticipation and nerves. What treasures were waiting inside? What else?
“It appears,” he said, “that we have arrived.”
OOC: No and I just sped it up more, likewise if you had plans for the forest I can edit.
Rann
"I'll be ready to go in a moment," Rann said, as he set his pack down next to a tree and rummaged through it. There was a change of clothes, a dagger, two bottles of brandy, and a water skin.
He pulled out the dagger and placed it in his boot, where it normally stayed. Next he grabbed one of the bottles of brandy and placed it on the ground. Then he closed the bag and covered it in foliage. He didn't want to have to carry more than necessary while in the ruin, and he planned on retrieving it on the return trip. As for that bottle of brandy...
Rann uncorked it and took a couple of big swallows, "Bravery juice," he jokingly explained as he offered it to Indor.
Indor
He had his own pack off and was folding away his cloak when Rann proffered a bottle. “I’ll wait until after thanks,” said Indor. He didn’t like fighting drunk, or bravery for that matter. Still if Rann was still alive it must work for him.
He folded away his cloak and shirt leaving just his thin leather armour. He stuffed his darts into a loop on it and paused. After a moment he decided to wear his heavy pair of bracers, he wasn't sure what was in the ruin. Once he’d finished he picked up his staff and nodded to Rann.
“If it all goes wrong this has a healing enchantment but it is a shade… unreliable and can have some unpleasant side effects. But enough talk of that shall we begin?” Indor grinned. It had been to long since he’d done this sort of thing.
Rann
Rann nodded as he slammed the cork back into the bottleneck and dropped the brandy to the ground. He was curious about those side effects his companion spoke of, but Rann assumed that if they were something to worry about, Indor would have elaborated.
"Yeah, let's go," he said as he began to walk with Indor towards the ruin. He pulled his katana slightly out of its sheath just to be ready. There was no telling what might be lurking in the shadows of an old ruin; one could expect anything from ghosts to daedra to necromancers. Or in the worst-case scenario, all three.
They descended the stone spiral staircase and entered the ruin. Before moving on, Rann stood there for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" he asked in a quiet whisper.
Indor
“Sort of,” replied Indor, “I defiantly want to get my hands on any stones I can but equally I would like to have a look at the ruins for anything else.” Quietly they rounded a corner at the bottom of the staircase, there was a short corridor but even so the end was almost lost in the gloom.
Indor looked around in awe, seeing far surpassed any accounts he had read, especially as these ruins seemed relatively unspoilt. Had he not been looking so closely he might have missed the slight irregularity in the flagstones of the floor. He held up a hand motioning Rann to stop. He stooped closer, there were a few stones slightly raised from the others.
“I don’t like these,” in the still air his whisper seemed all too loud, “I stood on something similar…” a noise from round the corner silenced him.
OOC: I wasn't sure if you had anything in mind as to what the noise should have been. If you don't like this let me know, and I'll edit.
Rann
Rann nodded when Indor held him back, understanding that the floor was likely trapped. The Ayleids themselves were long gone, but their traps lasted forever. Then a strange noise caught their attention. This time it was Rann who motioned for Indor to stop.
Keeping to the shadows and crouching low, he turned the corner. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he realized that they were in a large room. The main hall, possibly? Rann didn't pretend to know, he only speculated.
The noise turned out to have been a dremora. Rann froze for a moment, plastering himself against the wall as the dremora looked right in his direction. Rann could see the glowing red eyes. He held his breath and stood as still as a rock. He wasn't sure what he was going to do next; he wasn't even sure if it was possible to sneak up on a dremora unnoticed.
I guess we'll find out soon enough.
The dremora turned away. Rann saw his chance. Using the wall to push off of, he sprung into the air and landed on the dremora's back, knocking the otherworldly creature to the ground face first. Rann had reached around and slit its throat with a dagger before the thing ever hit the ground.
Rann crept back towards Indor, still wanting to be silent should anything else be hiding in the darkness. In his concentration, he carelessly forgot about the traps. He stepped on the raised section of the floor and found himself being propelled upwards at an alarming rate. He'd heard of the spike traps that were common in these ruins, so he hit the ground, making himself as flat as he could in hopes of avoiding ceiling spikes. He closed his eyes, and when the pillar stopped, Rann felt nothing. Looking up, he spotted a switch. Not wanting to test his luck any more, he didn't press it. He waited for the floor to descend once more and rejoined Indor in the entrance way.
"Dremora," he explained with a whisper before he pointed up to the ceiling where he just was, "There's also a switch up there."
Before any more explanations could be made, two atronachs made an appearance, heading straight for them. A flame and a storm atronach. Rann suddenly realized that by activating the trap accidentally, he had alerted the ruin's inhabitants.
Issac
He shook his head. "Nothing, other than what everyone else knows." He's probably eating out of Altair's hand. Somebody messed up when they made Rann's head; he'd drive Shaogorath over the edge with his insane logic.
Issac didn't betray any of his misgivings about his brother-in-law. But it rubbed him the wrong way that Rann could act the way he did and no one held him accountable, regardless of how pointless debating with him was. "I'll send word to Ian later about our child."
He smiled, the realization he would soon be a father fully appreciated. "Maybe we should try to contact Dalrus too, and Flogir...."
Issac's smile grew as he remembered the soldier. "Get a room," he had told them when everyone realized Satyana and him were together.
Rahvin
Rahvin didn't like it when Rann was brought up in conversation. He was scared for his son's safety more often than not, and he didn't like to be reminded of it. It had been about a year or so since Rann had left for the Isles, and the young dunmer hadn't been heard from since. It was a hard thing for Rahvin to think about, but he wouldn't doubt it if his son was dead.
He snapped out of his internal thoughts, took a larger sip of brandy than usual, and returned to the present conversation.
"So when should we expect this little monster?" he asked, since Satyana didn't seem to be showing any signs of carrying a child just yet.
Indor
For a moment fear froze him. It was a scene from his nightmares: deadra, the dark. The way Rann took out the dremora amazed Indor. “How?” he gasped, “How can they be here?” He tried to smother the memories they brought back.
When the trap triggered he snapped into action. He started forward then as the floor section fell he saw them. “Atronachs,” he said, fear chocked his voice, “Careful attacking them - you hurt yourself.”
The deadra closed on them. He tried to focus and muttered a spell under his breath. The fireball would have barely lit paper. He swore and leapt back desperately thinking. His poisons were useless. The fire atronach threw a fireball. He ducked, his dark skin almost unaffected, and ran at it. It was down to luck whether he set off any traps. He knew it was a long shot but if he could keep the deadra moving one of them might. Fortune favours the bold, he thought and threw a dart.
Mild pain exploded below his ear as the deadra growled and turned towards him. Cursing himself for nit taking his own advice he danced back from it. “How can they be here?” he called to Rann.
OOC: atronachs reflect damage a bit in oblivion, if you want to ignore this I can edit
Brianna
Brianna noticed that Rahvin felt bad about Rann being a subject of conversation and that made her sad for him. She regretted she brought it up, and moved her chair closer to his.
"I'm so sorry, Rahvin my darling, I shouldn't have mentioned Rann. It's just that I also miss him"
She took his hand and kissed it.
He's alive, trust me darling Rahvin, he's alive I just know it, I...sort of know those things
Satyana
She also was aware of Rahvin's slight change of mood and decided to help out to take his mind of Rann.
"Monster huh?" she smiled "Well thinking about who's his grandpa it will certainly be a lil' monster"
"Well the baby is due to come in six months approximately, if everything is going as it should. I'm happy it doesn't show yet!"
Satyana went over to Rahvin and gave him a warm hug..
"I love you, father" she whispered in his ear
Rann
"Does it really matter?" Rann answered Indor's question with another, jumping back to avoid the storm atronach as it became a tornado of rocks and lightning. He drew his katana and gripped it tightly for when the time was right.
When it reformed into a somewhat humanoid shape, Rann struck at it. He was well aware of the atronach's ability to reflect attacks made upon it, but mere knowledge was not enough to prepare him for the experience. His blade struck the atronach in its midsection, and Rann felt his own torso open slightly and ooze blood in response. Rann gritted his teeth and struck it once more, knowing that his attacks were stronger than the reflections of them.
This time, the atronach blocked Rann's strike with its forearm, and Rann felt as if he had just hit himself. The only thing that made him feel better was thinking that the atronach's arm hurt worse. Rann thought that there had to be a better way to dispatch these creatures, but he couldn't think of a good solution while trying to avoid being hit in the face by rock fragments.
Indor
Indor backed up another step just clear of another fiery attack. “Yes,” he called back trying to dodge past the atronach. It cut him off. “It might be possible to stop them, or send them back where they belong. “ He'd kept an eye open for any obvious marks of summoning but hadn't seen anything. He had been rather distracted through.
The deadra herded him back another step. He swore, wherever it was trying to drive him he didn’t want to be. He edged forward and it attacked. At the last moment he stepped outside the blow and behind the atronach. His foot lashed out and it lurched forward in the same movement he brought his staff down on its head.
Indor saw stars but forced himself to back away from the deadra. It stood with inexorable menace. He backed away further. On his left a stain on the floor caught his eye – the spikes. He jumped over the rigged floor and turned on his advancing foe. In a flash he threw a dart. This time the pain came from his chest. The deadra growled and started to advance.
Amili
Amili found herself working her way through town in an attempt to get to Lokken Tavern. After all that happened today, a brandy or two kept looking better and better. Pushing open the door she viewed some familiar faces. Mostly the regulars to the bar, but also Issac and Satyana. Amili shrugged of an urge to confront them and, after a moment's hesitation, placed her helm on the bar and ordered up a brandy.
Rann
Rann glanced over to see how Indor was faring. In his brief glimpse, he saw that Indor and the flame atronach were separated by floor spikes.
Instead of continuing his previous offensive plan against the storm atronach, he merely shouted "Switch!" to Indor, hoping that he understood. He ran from the storm atronach and barreled into the flame atronach, knocking it face first into the spikes.
Unfortunately, such a daring move left him more vulnerable than ever. He'd lost his balance trying to avoid the spikes himself, and was sprawled out on the ground. On top of that his katana had fallen out of reach and his shirt was on fire, making it evident that he was in trouble. Rann rolled on the stone floor in an attempt to put out the flames, praying that he wouldn't set off any sort of trap. With the fire neutralized, Rann laid still for a moment to catch his breath. A large figure loomed over him, and Rann recognized it as the same storm atronach. Its foot rose to stamp out the young dunmer in front of him, and Rann realized that it was too late to do anything about it.
OOC: minque - i'll try to post w/ rahvin soon.
Indor
For a moment Rann’s shout confused him then the dunmer launched himself at the flame atronach. The other daedra followed him. Indor swore and leapt past the spikes towards it but it ignored him. He pulled a dart to throw but tripped on a broken slab. As he rolled up he saw the atronach looming over Rann.
He dropped his staff and sprinted. A string of strange words tore from his mouth and even in his excitement he was surprised he had used them. The daedra stopped and half turned. He leapt. I hope I knock it far enough, he thought an instant before he cannoned into it in a fountain of sparks.
Rahvin
"I love you too, Satyana," he said, hugging back. Rahvin was glad that things really seemed to be going well lately. For the first time in his life it seemed, there was a little bit of peace and quiet. He pushed back thoughts that told him it seemed a bit too quiet...
Rann
Rann was surprised when the foot above him seemed to disappear. Choosing not to question his luck any further, he sprung into action, retrieving his katana. He looked in Indor's direction and saw that his companion was entangled with the storm atronach. He approached the scene at a quick and steady pace, hoping to deal the killing blow while it was unaware of his presence.
OOC: I'm not really sure what happened in your post, Olen; did Indor cast a spell? I couldn't really tell, but I tried to reply the best I could anyway. If this doesn't make sense, let me know and I'll edit.
Indor
Indor knew he was in trouble. The spell, if such it could be called, was part of a rite for controlling daedra during summoning. The atronach was already there and all it had done was annoy it further. And now he was stuck in a ground-fight with a monstrously strong mass of stone and lightning.
He punched its face and grimaced as his knuckles met stone. The atronach tried to throw him off. He shifted his weight down and it grabbed him and pulled him in to crush him.
He desperately reached into his shirt and pulled out a knife and held it out in front of him. With the help of the atronach’s own crushing embrace he drove the blade into its chest. Pain burst though his own and his head swam.
OOC: sorry that last post of mine made so little sense, I edited out the bit which explained it.
Might as well finish mr. atronach off now
Rann
Rann kicked the atronach off of Indor and was surprised to learn that it was already dead, as made evident by the knife protruding from its chest.
"Nice," he said, complimenting Indor as he held out a hand to help his companion up, "Are you alright?"
Indor
Indor took the proffered hand and Rann pulled him to his feet. “I’ve had a lot worse,” he said. In truth the only part of him which felt damaged was his own attack had reflected on him. He rubbed at his chest a felt a tender area and the dampness of blood.
“I’d like to know who they got here,” he said then added, “And if there’s any more. Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” He went around the room avoiding the traps and collected his darts. Only one needed repair.
Rann
"I don't know if you remember," Rann said to Indor following his exact footsteps so that he too could avoid traps, "But before we started killing daedra I mentioned that there was a switch up there."
Indor
“I’m afraid something must have distracted my attention,” replied Indor. He turned back towards the spike trap, “It was above this one wasn’t it?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before he edged forward to get a closer look. There was just a small switch with nothing to indicate what it might do. “We could waste time trying to work out what it does,” said Indor, “But fortune favours the bold, eh?” He grinned and lifted his staff towards the switch slowly enough that Rann could protest, but only just.
Rann
"Go for it," he said when Indor hesitated for a moment, "Just make sure you don't kill us."
Ian, Chorrol
The rain continued to fall on the streets of Chorrol as the sun was banished by the clouds. As the townspeople flitted from one location to another, one robed man strode calmly in the middle of the street, ignoring the rain drenching the outside of his crimson robes.
If he had to bet where his son and daughter-in-law were, Ian would gamble on the Lokken Tavern. In the cover of the entrance, the vampire gestured with his arm and a cloud of mist burst into existance as most of the moisture on his robes evaporated instantly.
Fairly dry now, Ian opened the double doors and walked inside. The shower seemed to be doing well for the tavern's business, the waitress never missed a beat even when she was vastly outnumbered by customers. As he stood in the doorway, someone tossed an unopened bottle of wine to him.
The vampire deftly caught the bottle, scowling at it for a moment. Then he simply shrugged and looked around for his quarry.
Satyana
While she was standing beside Rahvin's chair, she noticed someone enter the premises.
Why isn't it...?
"Issac! look, isn't it Ian who just came in?, How wonderful.." she said in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention to herself, especially if the stranger wasn't Ian...
Indor
Indor pushed the button and leapt back. For a moment nothing happened then there was a loud grinding noise. He looked round and saw two iron gates in the walls lift to reveal small rooms beyond. The gates finished opening and all Indor could hear was Rann’s breathing. He crept towards the nearer one, wary of any more deadra.
None appeared and he entered the small space. He almost tripped over a corpse just inside the gate. It had been a Breton but that had been quite a time ago. Indor stepped over it and looked around, there was a low table by the wall covered in books and ayleid artefacts, including some crystals.
In an instant he forget any danger and rushed over to it. There was a battered copy of ‘The Wild Elves’ which he pushed aside – its content was somewhat dubious – he whistled at what he found underneath. It was a treasure-trove of valuable texts: what looked to be an original copy of ‘Earana’s Notes’, ‘Magic from the Sky’ and the wizard’s own notes.
He started to read.
OOC: I didn’t bother with any more daedra, I can edit if you want more.
Issac
He blinked before looking toward the entrance. Even if his father wasn't still wearing his blood red robes, Issac could have picked him out. The Altmer got up and strode to meet Ian.
Ian, Lokken
Ian recognized Issac come out of the crowd and they embraced as father and son. "I figured you'd be here if you were in Chorrol at all." The vampire commented, clapping Issac on the shoulder.
"Satyana and I have something to tell you, come on." Issac said with a slyness that would make an orc curious. "He's pleased about something; I'm brimming with anticipation." Kirana stirred in the vampire's mind. Ian just returned his son's grin and followed him to the table. He nodded to Rahvin and Smacked the unopened bottle in the midst of those that had been emptied.
"So I hear you have good tidings," The vampire took in the others arrayed around the table. "Three couples all in one place, our 'family' has grown in the course of a year" Ian couldn't argue with Kirana, the realization that everyone here had personal ties to each other still amazed him.
He gestured to Satyana and Issac, "You have the floor."
OCC: Satyana can be the one to tell Ian. She's the mother after all.
Indor
Indor noticed Rann’s tone and stopped reading. “Its fascinating. His theories are… outside the box… shall we say. But he backs them up well. This could be a real breakthrough.”
He bundled the papers and oddments together before crouching down beside the corpse. The Breton had been dead long enough for the worst of the stench to be gone, but it was still an unpleasant job. Indor pulled his pockets and pouches open examining their contents. Most of it was junk, but he pocketed a small notebook, an amulet of no apparent use and some coins before standing and wiping his hands off on his trousers.
“I’d like to have a quick look around and make some of my own notes before we leave,” he said to Rann.
Rann
Rann took a seat on a half-rotted, overturned barrel and began to inspect his small wounds. His arm was still bleeding, as was the small gash on his midsection, but everything was still intact, for the most part.
"Take your time," he answered, "Just don't forget that we probably didn't kill everything that was in here."
Satyana
She blushed a bit when everybody was looking at her, but straightened up and turned to Ian;
"Ian....you are going to be...a grandfather!, Issac and I are going to have a baby in about six months"
She sat down again and continued; "We'll call her Serene, after my grandmother"
"Iif it's a girl that is" she added nervously
Oh...that was close, I hope nobody noticed....but I do know I'll have a girl
Brianna
Brianna smiled faintly, it was good to see Ian again, she liked him despite he was a vampire. She came to think of Sadril, wondering what became of him. The memory of the long walk over the mountains that Rahvin, Sadril and herself did back then stood clearly to her.
"Two future grandpa's in one bar, let's celebrate!" She grabbed the bottle and opened it
"Anyone?"
Rahvin, you're awfully quiet....what's the matter?
Flint Ironwood, Bruma.
After making sure the pidgeon had been sent, Flint decided to make the most of his free time and went to see his new 'boss'.
Since the last year, Odrik had changed a lot. Gone was the Nord with eyes that burned like a thousand fires. Gone was the loud voice that had commanded the siege engines during the battle for the Imperial City. The man that sat in the comfortable chair, staring out of the window, mead in his hand, was a mere shadow of that man. When Flint knocked on the door to his office, he didn't respond. After a moment, Flint opened the door and walked in.
"Odrik. You really should stop drinking." The Breton said and shook his head. Odrik grumbled something incoherently and took a mighty swig of his cup. His drinking prowess was the only thing he could be proud of these days.
"Oh, come on. Odrik, stop ignoring me! Don't you want today's report or what?" Flint added somewhat annoyed after a minute of silence. This time, Odrik did respond.
"Report? I don't need no stinking report. Betsy blew up. I could see the smoke from here. It's a drat shame. Such a fine lass, now charred timber." He slurred and emptied what was left of his tankard. Subconsciously, his free hand grabbed a full bottle of mead and refilled his cup.
"Betsy? Ah, concept D. Yeah, it failed. That's why I want to fill the spheres with simple water from now on." Flint said. Odrik had an intense attachment to every siege engine under his command. He gave them all names and cared for them more than his wife. In fact, Flint had heard rumours that said wife was preparing the papers for a divorce because she felt neglected.
The Breton looked around the office while absentmindedly stroking his beard. The place was a wreck, even moreso than last time he'd visited. Documents were piled up everywhere, documents that Odrik should have processed weeks ago. Empty bottles of mead littered the floor and a bucket stood in a far corner. Flint leaned in closer to see what was in the bucket but soon turned away in disgust.
"Gods! Odrik, why do you use a bucket as a toilet? Have you even been out of your office for five seconds today?" He sighed.
Odrik shrugged.
"Why should I?" He asked.
"Why? Well, if you don't go home and take a bath, your wife is going to leave you for one." Flint argued.
"So? Let her. Don't care. Let her leave. All I wanted was to make this project work, to build the best siege engine ever. An engine that would go down into history, as famous as Tiber Septim, a machine as famous as Numidium. That's all I wanted. But it's never going to happen, I see that now." Tears streamed down Odrik's face as he remembered his dreams. His tankard moved to meet his lips, only to suddenly be torn from his grip by an invisible hand and thrown through the window with great force.
"Stop wallowing in self-pity, idiot! You're making me sick!" Flint shouted angrily.
"That was some good mead. It's a shame you threw it away." Odrik whispered.
"Gods! Look at you! You're a wreck! I'm not the type to comment on other people's drinking habits, but you have been completely wasted for way too long! I don't know what you're thinking, but I haven't given up yet! Just so you know, we still have those plans for importing an authentic Dwemer ballista from Morrowind and we can still make concept D work if we just keep trying!" Flint turned around and stomped away to the door. He was no longer in the mood to deal with the Nord.
"Yo, Flint buddy. You're right, I've given up. But not because our concepts don't work. They do. It's because there's foul play going on here."
Flint froze at the door.
"Foul play?" He asked warily. Odrik swung his chair around so he could look at the old Breton.
"Foul play. I wasn't convinced at first, but now I'm sure of it. You see, not only the prototypes keep failing, but those three old-style catapults we built last month? They used Rotten nails, all of them. The first bit of a rain and they fell apart, irreparable. One catapult getting through our quality-check? Unlikely, but possible. Two more, after I sharpened the checks? Impossible." He said softly, yet with an echo of his old spark.
Flint frowned.
"So you're suggesting...sabotage? But who would stand to gain anything from that?" He wondered out loud. Odrik sighed.
"Don't ask me. I'd say an Akaviri spy most likely. During the war, there were Imperials fighting on their side. Imperials, Bretons, all the scum of Cyrodiil. I wouldn't be surprised if one or more of them went undercover after the loss of their commander. We all know we haven't delivered the decisive blow to the snakes yet. We scattered them, forced them to retreat. But as long as they're not wiped out to the last scaled tail, there is no peace."
Flint nodded.
"I'll take some time off to investigate this. If there is an Akaviri spy, I'm going to find him and skin him till he tells us what colour socks his grandmother wore." He said.
"But you will have to take over for me in the meantime, Odrik." He added with a sly grin.
Ian
The ramifications hit home, Ian blinked. "Well," Kirana began. "If that's not a closure then I don't know what is." Musing the possibility was one thing, but the news that Satyana was pregnant with Issac's child was more profound than many could imagine. A decade and a half ago, Ian and Kirana had found a orphaned noble boy in the rubble of the Temple District. Now he had grown and was set to father his own child.
It was one of those life-affirming revelations that few were fortunate enough to experience personally. Ian felt his spirits soar and a genuine smile came to his face. The vampire forgot about Umbranox, Amrita, and Altair for one moment in his existance he was truly alive.
He glanced to Brianna with a spark in his eyes. "The mother should avoid getting drunk for the time being." Then Ian got up, "But celebration there will be. I'll return shortly."
Issac
Issac knew he couldn't imagine the rush his "father" was having from this. But it clearly had a profound affect on him. He hadn't known Ian to be so overjoyed by anything, compared to his normal reservation it was an epiphany. Seeing his patron react like this drove the point deeper for him. I'm going to be a father. Just like Ian was to me.
Ian managed to dodge through the travern's crowd with and walk outside in a matter of moments. Issac turned to Satyana, cupping her cheek with his right hand. "I've never seen Ian so happy in my life."
Rahvin
Rahvin accepted Brianna's offer and she poured him a drink. As he watched the conversation unfold before him, he couldn't help but be amused at the strange look of a sincerely touched vampire.
"I'm not sure the world's seen anyone that happy before," he added to Issac's statement.
Brianna
She smiled. Ian looked so...ehh alive! That was remarkable. She noticed his remark on the "mother not getting drunk" and laughed;
"Don't worry old friend, the drinks are for us! Satyana gets nothing stronger than comberry juice"
Then turning to Rahvin she continued:
"Soo, werent you happy when Serene handed you Rannie? I've heard you were, dearest" She took his hand and squeezed it devotingly.
Satyana
"I'm glad he's happy. I think he needs that feeling. Our baby will get the best grandparents in the whole of Nirn" she added happily
Ian, Northern Goods and Trade
"In over a decade I have never seen you in such high spirits, Ian." Seed-Neeus commented after the agent appeared suddenly and made a rather abnormal purchase for one of his nature.
"There are things that can cause a complete change in people, one of those things has just happened." Ian replied, handing the Argonian a bag of gold. "Issac's wife, Satyana, is with child; he's going to be a father soon!"
Seed-Neeus smiled to herself as she remembered the Altmer lad Ian had raised as his own. "If Satyana needs any help with small things, Dar-Ma will be happy to help."
"I'll remember," Ian said as he took the sack and left the shop. Neeus shook her head, smiling to herself. Now she'd seen everything.
Indor
Indor nodded and went back into the main chamber with a quill and a few blank parchments he had taken from the dead mage. First he wandered around it looking for anything of interest and memorising the locations of the traps. He came across the body of the dremora, its throat slit. He shuddered: he hated the things. The way Rann had taken it out still had him wandering, it was either extreme luck or there was more to the dunmer than he let on. Indor didn’t think it was luck.
The mage had already gathered almost everything of interest but he did find another stone in a bracket on the wall. He also found several inscriptions on the walls and pillars. He sat down and copied them. It was a slow process as, for the most part, he didn’t recognise the letters, let alone words. Someone might though and it might be of interest – there were certainly enough traps to suggest that it had been a place of some importance.
He lost himself in the work and once he’d done copying he gave a couple of the traps a careful examination and drew a plan of the room itself. There was a small tunnel going away in the opposite direction from where they’d entered. He was examining it when he became aware of shuffling footsteps. He looked round. They came again from down the tunnel. He opened his mouth to speak then realised that it probably wasn’t Rann. From within his shirt he drew a dart, he drew the cork off it revealing a tip sticky with poison.
I hope this isn’t an atronach, he thought easing forward into the narrow space. He raised the torch to light his way. The footsteps stopped then started more quickly. A scamp hurried round a corner into the light. An instant later Indor’s dart took it in the chest. It screamed and ran at him. Four steps later it dropped. Indor listened for another but heard nothing. “Hmmm,” he muttered to himself, “Four steps, poison must be going off.”
Sorian, Chorrol gates.
Sorian was still recovering from the fight and resulting chaos.
"Ugh, I never want that to happen again. Geez, what does a guy need to do so that the guards leave him alone? Something other than giving up his sword." He grumbled to himself. He made for the gate, but then realized that there were more guards in the city itself and the earlier events would be likely to repeat themselves if he met one.
So instead, the Redguard loitered just outside the gates, pacing back and forth.
"Can't go in, not without surrendering my sword, which I won't do ever. Can't leave, cause I'm rather tired and would like to sleep in a real bed for tonight. What to do, what to do?" He thought. After thinking for a few minutes, he got an idea. It was stupid, so stupid he considered he might as well stab himself right from the start, but it was the only one he had.
Sorian clenched and unclenched his fists before striding purposefully to the very same pair of guards that had attacked him earlier.
"Now, I know we are not exactly on the best of terms, so I shall be brief. I want to enter your city. However, you won't let me in unless I surrender my sword. That, is a demand I cannot comply with." He spoke. The two guards eyed him angrily and were already reaching for their broadswords again. One of them checked around him to see if anyone was close enough to interfere this time.
"So perhaps we can come to a compromise? You let me in, with my sword. In return, I'll report to the barracks right away and present myself for some...volunteer guard duty? Mercenary, no need for payment?"
"Gods, I hope they're not going to laugh me in the face. This sounds so dumb."
Flint Ironwood, Bruma.
Outside Odrik's office, Flint stopped to think. The whole idea of a saboteur still felt unlikely to him but he had to admit that their constant failures were becoming a bit suspicious.
"But damn, who could possibly be a spy? I don't think it was someone of the siege division. Everyone of them we put on the project was also there during the battle last year. On our side of the walls. And if it isn't one of them, then who is it?" He thought and shook his head.
"Crap, I haven't even begun yet and already I feel like I'm in over my head."
After some debate, Flint came up with the bare bones of a potential plan. But first, he wanted to make the investigation official, by involving the legion.
Several minutes later, the grey-haired Breton walked into the Bruma barracks, where those guards that were off-duty tended to hang around. He wasn't dissapointed in his expectations, as there were indeed over two dozen guards present. Some were gambling, others where armwrestling and some were merely talking or watching the gambling and armwrestling. All in all, the atmosphere was light and relaxed.
"Ok, everyone. Listen up!" Flint shouted over the noise. Everyone in the room turned his or her head towards him, some slower than others.
Flint took a few more steps into the room before he continued.
"For those among you who may not yet know me, I'll introduce myself. My name is Flint Ironwood, and I'm a member of the Bruma Siege Division. Specifically, a member of the development branch. Now as I bet you all know, the Siege Division has been developing some new engines over the past few months and as you also know, we haven't been very succesfull in our endeavours."
The Breton looked around the room to observe the effect of his introduction.
"The reason for that, as we've discovered, is sabotage. Somewhere, there is a traitor in this city, one that is actively undermining our efforts at rebuilding our defenses after the war. We're running an investigation right now and that's why I'm here. I would like to enlist the aid of the guards when we're going to make our arrest." He then spoke.
"And also, I want you to gossip, put the word out on the street that this spy, whoever he is, is about to get nailed down hard."
"So, can I count on your help?"
Indor
Indor bent to retrieve his dart. The presence of the daedra puzzled him almost as much as it worried him. He gave the scamp’s corpse a kick then stood. “These are no temporary conjurations,” he said, “They haven’t faded at all. That means their physical presences have come across.” He paused to think, “I suppose its possible that they came to our plane during the oblivion crisis and were stranded. They might have holed up here since.”
It was possible, and he wanted to believe it. He didn’t want to have anything to do with summoning again.
OOC I’m not sure where (if anywhere) you want to take this. I’m ready to leave the ruin but if you have any more fun planned for it then fire away.
OOC: nah, I'm done with the ruin too.
Rann
"So is there anything else to look at here?" he asked as Indor returned with the dart.
"We've got brandy waiting."
Antus
Antus sat in a ring of off-duty guards surrounding a small table. In his left hand was a bottle of ale, and his right held five cards. He had in front of him a moderate pile of gold, but he knew it would get larger. The cards were favoring him at the moment, though he could barely read them through the cloud of alcohol in his brain. He laughed, but by the time he raised his bet, he'd forgotten the joke. The stakes were high, and the climax of the game appeared as the time came to show the cards.
In one terrible moment, the game was put on hold as an authority figure appeared. As he listened, he began to look around at all his fellow guardsmen. Being a newcomer, he now had to be extra cautious about his companions being traitors.
When the speaker asked his final question, Antus took another look around his peers to see what their reactions were...
Indor
“No, I’d say we’ve been successful here. I’ll just get the stuff.” Indor walked past Rann and back into the little side room and bundled the papers and finds together in the dead mages threadbare blanket. He re-emerged with them and walked back out the ruin.
The air outside was pleasantly fresh after the ruin. He was surprised how long they had been underground. He stretched and turned to Rann. “Do you think we should camp a bit away from the ruin? Or shall we crack open the brandy now? Or both?” he grinned.
Bruma, Legionnaire barracks.
One man, a captain when onduty, just another regular man when not, answered.
"Why, certainly the Legion shall help. Treason is a crime after all, and crimes are what we are meant to fight. That, and invaders." He said and shrugged casually.
"But then again, invasion is another crime, so it all boils down to the same thing in the end." He muttered.
"Excuse me?" A Nord called. Flint turned his eyes at the legionnaire.
"Yes? Is there a question you'd like to ask?" He inquired politely.
"Well, yes. Who exactly is this traitor?" The Nord asked in return. Flint made a dismissing gesture with one of his hands before answering.
"Ah, that. We are already quite sure of the traitor's identity, but I want to make some last inquiries to make absolutely sure. Till then, I'd prefer to keep the suspect's identity a secret. No offense, but I know you people sometimes do your job too well. If I told you right now, you'd all keep an eye on him and if he were to notice...Let's just say I'd like to keep the element of surprise. I hope you don't mind."
Flint swept his gaze across the room.
"Any further questions?"
OOC: sorry I haven't been around lately, school has me busy. i'll try to post with other characters soon.
Rann
"Both sounds good," he answered, bending down to pick up the two bottles he had stashed a few hours earlier. He continued to drink from the one he had already sampled and handed the unopened one to Indor.
He shouldered his pack and they headed in the general direction of Chorrol, drinking as they did. As the city gates became visible on the horizon, Rann suddenly realized how close he really was to facing problems he'd tried to leave behind a year before. Satyana surely hated him by now, and it had been ages since he'd spoken to anyone else. He took a few more sips from his bottle.
Indor
Indor was pleased to see the city gates on the horizon. He took another swallow from his severly diminished bottle and paused to gather himself. He noticed Rann swigging heavily from his bottle as he looked at the gates.
“What’s Chorrol like?” Indor asked, “In fact I’m not sure I ever asked why you’re headed there.”
He took another drink of the brandy.
Rann
"It's boring," he answered, "The biggest attraction is a tree, if that gives you an idea. But I've got family here to see, I think. At least I did a year ago."
They arrived at the city gates to see a young redguard boy (sorian) being hindered by two guards.
Dalrus Varus, Arcane University
Having quickly worked out the problem with the Telvanni Dalrus made her way to the council chamber, cursing the fact that her business had ended her reunification with Rann. She walked in and everyone fell silent. She smiled, the respect was nice but not always necessary sometimes she just wished to be treated as a friend and colleague, not the leader and influential person who everyone tried to win onto their side.
"Well it seems you have started without me..." she stated to the room at large. One could have heard a pin drop the silence was so immense. Everyone was afraid she was angry. "Thank the nine, I would not want to sit through a full length meeting after going to the Councilor meeting at the tower." the group let out sighs of relief and handed her some parchment they had been reading. Dalrus read through it quickly, it mostly pertained to the new building codes of Leyawiin and Cheydinhal (remember they were destroyed completely in the last war) and what requirements the Mages guild needed to fill out in order to regain a charter in each of the counties. Of course, the cities were little more than clusters of refugee tents and Dalrus knew 'building codes' would not be in place until much later.
Dalrus spoke up, interupting the councilor from Valenwood. "We must be the first to build a building in each of the destroyed cities. If we let the cities be built first, then likely another guild will get a better location. Kayark, I want you in charge of the builders," she said to a large looking Orc mage. "You and a team of four alteration mages will form the buildings in Cheydinhall from the base of the building that was destroyed. I will find another team for our Leyawiin headquarters. Unfortunately, unlike with Cheydinhal, there were absolutely no survivors in the Silhoutte's attack on Leyawiin so it will be harder to rebuild the hall exactly how it was," she ended her speech and sat down. After about two and a half hours of constant discussion the meeting was adjourned and Dalrus slumped low in her seat. "Phew, two meetings in one day, and all I want to do is see Rann...where is Rann?"
Agrippa, Office of the General of the Legion of Cyrodiil
Agrippa hated dealing with Flogir. HATED it. He just never remembered how much until he was done meeting with him over the incarcerated Home Guardsmen. They had worked out a deal and Agrippa agreed that as long as Flogir did the paperwork, he would release the jailed men, but he needed another way to harm the Home Guard. Flogir was certainly an obstacle. He had a feeling the hero from the war also felt the same way about him, though with maybe a little less passion. Agrippa walked out of his office snapped his fingers and four guards in the white armor of the Imperial Guards surrounded him. He walked out of the Fort and decided to meet with Veric...
Hmmm better lock this then...
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