I like that last picture. To me, it looks like Abiene is asking who let that boar bleed all over her shoes, and Lil is appealing to the viewer for exoneration, despite being the only one with a bow.

Grits, what a fabulous update on the gang! I know what Jerric means about being reluctant to kill goblins. I know they smell bad and will happily filet you up to augment their rat stew but. . . just look at those big beautiful and gracefully sweeping ears. We figure they’re some kind of throwbacks to ancient cave mer.

Uh oh, Jerric doesn’t look happy at the Sleeping Mare. I’m surprised he didn’t shake Darnand until a bottle fell out of the the mage’s snazzy robes.

Woot! Boar BBQ! Good shooting Lil, and congrats on no collateral damage. I like her bow – is that one of Brash’s? Speaking of Lil, is she still using/happy with her little summoned Maigrets bat triplets?

Well at least Jerric did not get shot in the back this time! Back in my pen and paper RPG days there was one campaign where another person's character Bax was always shooting my character Ethan in the back. It was practically guaranteed that he would get me at least once every battle. Eventually we started calling him Bax-Shooter.

I miss picking flowers in Oblivion. There are so many in Cyrodiil, and they don't get cut down after you pick them. I can never pick them in Skyrim because it makes the world look ugly without any flowers in it.

I see the Vile Clavicale's shrine is the background of that one pic. Perhaps someone had an ulterior motive for stopping there...?

Jerric looks so pissed in that pic at the Pells Gate inn! How perfectly Nordic! Like Captain Jack (Sparrow - savvy?) and "Why is the rum gone?"

I love how Abiene is giving everyone else the cold shoulder after the boar died all over her shoes!

Sal the Argonian:



Seeing the Imperial City behind him, Sal hastily made his way to the bank of the lake, and swam across it, putting as much distance between him and it as he could. On the other side he saw a campfire, but as he approached he was attacked. First by a Dunmer wielding a bow, then a Redguard with a heavy axe. Both fell to Sal's arrows, and he took the Dunmer's bow, since his was old and rusty. He helped himself to their meal, since they weren't hungry anymore, and busied himself gathering anything of value or use in their camp, before going for an after dinner swim in the lake. Feeling refreshed he then made use of the nearby tent and bedroll.

He was awakened, early in the morning by his nose. A stranger now stood in the camp, an old Breton in a blue robe. Perhaps he was a friend of those who had been there, Sal thought, because as soon as he caught sight of Sal he attacked! As the Breton summoned a scamp, Sal called forth the only thing he could, a skeleton and as the two fought he tried to find an opportunity to shoot at the mage. As the Breton's scamp tore his skeleton limb from limb, aided by the somewhat berserk Breton, Sal managed to plant two arrows in the Breton's chest, though the Breton had cast a spell that shielded him from the worst of the impacts. As the scamp dissipated the Breton charged, only to receive a third arrow, this time in the face, that put him down permanently. Sal was quick to search the body, taking the man;s robes and shoes, along with a book he was carrying. Sal opened it and began to read, and felt a question forming in his mind. The book was magic, and offered him a spell, minor life detection, and Sal could feel that even a novice could cast it, so accepted. That done, Sal returned to his purloined bedroll for a few more hours of sleep.

In the morning he set out for Chorrol, having only a vague sense of where it was, and checked every roadsign he could find. It had been more than two decades since he's last been in Cyrodiil, and back then he had only been a child. It took most of the day, but he made his way to Weynon Priory, though not without incident. Twice he had been ambushed by Khajiit, demanding 100 gold to let him pass. Twice he pleaded poverty, and twice his plea was met by a cold, feral grin and the assurance that the Khajiit would kill him for free. Both times Sal had to rely on his summoned skeleton and his spells, being too close to use his bow effectively. He had cast aside his iron bow, taken from the Dunmer by the lake, in favour of a fine steel one he had found. The soundless voice, so familiar, had prompted him to leave the path for a time, and explore the above ground portion of what looked to be a ruined fort. He had found the bow there, near the skeleton of it's owner, picked clean by who knew what.

As he entered the Priory, one of the monks asked him why he was there, Sal told him he had to speak to Jauffre, and was old to head upstairs. Sal did so and was surprised. He had been expecting a warrior, not an old man. He felt compelled to make sure this was the right man.

“Jauffre?”

“I am he, what do you want?” Sal was taken aback by the fire and steel he saw in the old man's eyes. Though he was old, clearly he was still a fighter.

“I was sent by Baurus. He told me to give you this” Sal removed the amulet from the pack Baurus had given him, and Jauffre's eyes widened in shock.

“How did you get this? What happened? Why did Baurus not come himself?”

“Baurus gave it to me, he said to bring it to you, he had to stay with the body of the Emperor. Please sir, I don't know what happened. I was arrested when I came to Cyrodiil, I don't know why. They came through my cell, and I followed them. They were being attacked, robed figures with armour that appeared from nowhere. They went through a door and locked it behind them, and I found another way to go. When I met them again only Baurus still lived. He was wounded, slumped in a corner beside the body of the old man they'd been escorting, him and the other two. Then Baurus told me who it was, and to take the amulet and give it to you.”

Jauffre expression had shifted throughout the story, moving from suspicion to horror to grief, and now returned to suspicion. “I don't trust you, Argonian. But I do not believe you were involved in this. If you were you would not have come. I will send a message to the Imperial City, ensuring you are pardoned for any crimes committed before today. Now go, the Blades will deal with the situation.”

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Nov 6 2013, 06:36 PM

CT: A tried, true and wonderful way to unload the amulet and deal with Jauffre for characters (like Salamander) who seem not interested in Main Questing.

Great account of Sal’s return to Cyrodiil. I’m glad he can follow his own interests now that the Blades are on the job.

Grits: Great write-up! I like how one person gets hurt and another is there to heal him or her. Sounds just like a true adventuring party.

CT: Yaah! Sal the Argonian returns! Love the picure, and the tale.



:thumbsup:

Acadian, that is indeed one of Brash’s gorgeous bows. Jerric picked up a selection for Lil long before I figured out how to actually put her in his game. She’s been switching between that one and the juniper wood one (on her own), but she seems to favor the plain-looking juniper one more. Jerric just had it lightly enchanted for her at the Mystic Emporium (thanks to SubRosa’s mod), mostly so she can carry arrows other than the silver ones and still be effective against the various things that try to eat them. She dislikes the shiny look of the silver ones. Jerric bought a number of things for his friends while waiting for them to join him in his game. Part of why he is always broke.

Lil still adores her sweet summoned bats. She hasn’t used them lately because she hasn’t been underground or in trouble out alone at night due to the group’s recent shopping trip. There’s a little story simmering away about Lil and the bats. Also the orb that’s associated with them looks really neat on a shelf. I’ve snagged yet another of Maigret’s wonderful animal companions to live at Weynon Priory. She’s in at least one of today’s pictures. Bringing her home to the Priory will be another road trip later.


In the era’s longest shopping trip the friends strolled from the boar picnic to Weye under a lovely sunset, stopping in at the archer camp to stock up on fletching supplies first. Nothing exciting happened at the Wawnet Inn where they spent the night. Probably because Nerussa sounded very happy to see Jerric even though he has not gotten any of her special wine to her. Though he has found some.

They got an early start for the walk into the Imperial City. First order of business was tracking down Velwyn Benirus and setting him straight on some issues. Then the market district beckoned. Jerric left most of their money there. Surprisingly the issue was Lildereth. She only wanted one dress. But it cost as much as a house. Thankfully he still had his spell-making budget since we forgot he has no AU access in this game. They skipped the taverns and headed to the Waterfront where mead might be cheaper. Also the girls wanted to go shoe shopping and get their hair done.

On the way they stopped in at the Temple of the One. Jerric couldn’t help but think it was missing something.

At the waterfront shop (Goddess Store) Jerric got lots of ideas for Saturalia, but most of them would be considered gifts for him. Thankfully he could afford a pair of sandals for Abiene because she was not happy about wearing brown quilted shoes with her new outfit. Jerric was not happy about the doublet she made him wear, but he didn’t whine about it. Plus he likes her new shoes.

They’re presently in the Bloated Float. Jerric does not seem to like Ormil the proprietor. It’s probably mutual.

Skipping taverns? They sure must be low on Septims for that to happen!

And I see Lil is running to catch up in the first pic!

Nice to see that Jerric cleaned up for the visit to the temple.

Did the team pick up a dog along the way? That big black beast looks like he is part of the entourage. Or is that from the Float?

Grits, what great fun to see the gang together. And how cool is it to have four characters to play dress up with?!?

I can certainly see they have been visiting the Goddess Store and made some wonderful selections. I'm sure it can be a bit frustrating for Abiene and Lil having to weed out all the outfits catering to cup sizes quite far into the alphabet, stilleto-heeled adventurewear and greaves that are actually just 'butt-circlets'. Yet, there are absolutely a fair number of gems hidden there for more petite and practical adventuresses.

And what fun that you found the wig section of the store!

If you are using Brash's Ranger camp mod for leather armors and wooden bows, I found it helpful to make them all essential - otherwise, they gradually get attrited by predators.

Thanks for sharing the fun adventures of Jerric and Co!

SubRosa, I'll trust Grits to correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the black (with white chest) dog in the last screen is Rosie, one of Maigrets wonderful companion mods.

I think Jerric's new shirt might be wrecked later tonight.

Sal really doesn't like the cold.


A lone figure makes it's way south from Bruma, lit by the pale morning sunlight, each step accompanied by a pleasant crunch as his feet compress the snow beneath them. Despite the thick snow, his steps are light and swift, driven by the cold. Though swathed in a fur lined black and burgundy outfit, which keeps much of him warm, he still feels the icy talons of cold sinking into the tips of his fingers and toes, and most alarmingly for him, his exposed tail. He sighs, his breath fogging in the frigid mountain air, as he considers the events of the last couple of days.

Sal hurried through the streets of Bruma, heading for the mages guild, rubbing his hands together against the cold, his burgundy linens and shirt no defence against the chill that hangs heavily over Bruma, especially since the sun had set. He sighed with relief as he entered the guildhall, grabbing his tail and trying to rub some warmth back into it's tip as he looked around, grateful simply to be out of the infernal cold. He spoke to the other mages there, bought some ingredients from the alchemist there, and spent most of the evening brewing potions and practising spells. He focused on those schools of magic he was less proficient in; alteration, mysticism, and restoration, and explored the guildhall a little, acquiring a black and burgundy outfit lined with fur, before making his way to the Jerall View Inn for the night.

The next day he spoke to the Breton woman in charge, Jeanne Frasoric, about earning a recommendation from her. She assigned him of finding a missing guildmember, a Khajiit named J'skar, who had disappeared, allegedly from a spell that backfired. This had Sal wondering. Surely a simple detect life spell would suffice? He spoke to the guild alchemist, Selena, who said she didn't want to get involved with Volanaro and J'skar and their “fun”. So Sal went to speak to Volanaro, the only other member of the guild in Bruma to be found, only to be given the same “backfiring spell” story he had told Jeanne. “Look, friend” Sal said, placing a hand on Volanaro's arm as he turned away, the faint green glow of a charm spell virtually indetectable against Volanaro's green brocade jacket, “you and I both know that you could find J'skar in a second, unless no one here can cast detect life. What's the real reason J'skar can't be found?” Volanaro looked at him for a second, his eyes slightly unfocused as if trying to figure something out, before shrugging slightly. “Heh, I guess you're right. Tell you what, you do me a favour, and I'll help you find J'skar. But you can't tell Jeanne about it. Deal?” Sal nodded, knowing he didn't really have a choice. Even if he could find J'skar, he didn't have the skill in mysticism to dispel whatever had made J'skar disappear. “That's the spirit! You'll love this. I'll teach you a simple spell for unlocking things, then you sneak up to Jeanne's room, and take her Manual of Spellcraft from her desk and bring it to me.”

Since Jeanne's room was the only one upstairs, it was easy for Sal to sneak in unnoticed, while Jeanne was busy practising her summon scamp spell. The lock on her desk yielded to the spell Volanaro had taught him, and a few minutes later he handed the book to Volanaro, who was in his room downstairs. Volanaro told him to come back after 10pm to find J'skar, so Sal spent the day practising his magics, reluctant to leave the relative warmth of the guildhall. As the apointed hour arrived he made his way down to Volanaro's room. No sooner had he entered than Volanaro closed the door behind him, then hurled a spell at the centre of the room, which struck something invisible and revealed it to be a Khajiit, J'skar, who hurried off to present himself to Jeanne, telling her how Sal had helped him. Jeanne clearly didn't accept his explanation, but wrote Sal's recommendation anyway, if only to get him out of the guildhall and away from Volanaro and J'skar. As the hour was late, Sal returned to his room at the Jerall View and turned in for the night.


And here's a gratuitous pic: Looking good, old friend

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Nov 11 2013, 06:27 PM

Everybody does that quest a little differently, I have noticed.

Yep, that’s Maigrets’ sweet (and huge) Rosie. Flash (Prior Maborel’s Paint) still lives at Weynon Priory in this game. I want very much to put Kvatch Rebuilt into Jerric’s world and there’s little news to be found on its status. I don’t want to start the MQ and find out I’ve screwed something up after a new version comes out (I can hope) or even the old one made available again. In the meantime Jerric found Flash a doggie companion.

Rosie will fight to defend her friends, as Jerric discovered at the Bloated Float when he decked the orc bouncer for mouthing off to him. He was already not a fan of the Float due to his history there, and then Ormil only had one bottle of ale for sale. So they ate and drank the Float’s only provisions (one bottle of ale, one wedge of cheese, and a carrot), and prepared to leave. Abiene wanted to see the waterfront from the bow so they went out for a look around. Then on the way out the orc told Jerric, “I’ve killed far worse than you.”

Good call on the shirt, KC. It didn’t make it through the fight. Jerric punched the orc, and it was on. Rosie, Darnand, and Lil jumped Ormil. Grits panicked thinking about dead NPCs since these two are not essential. The orc disappeared and Ormil inexplicably stopped fighting. No guards came.

They took a few minutes looking for the orc’s body so Abiene could attempt a healing, but it was nowhere to be found. Jerric stepped outside to surrender to the guards that he imagined must be amassing to storm the Float and bring him to justice. However outside all was calm. A beggar came up and asked for a coin. Abiene stayed inside the tavern.

So they stood around for a few minutes waiting to see what would happen. Nothing. They went back inside.

The orc was in there acting like nothing had happened. Best I can guess is he ran away. Ormil offered his customary greeting. Abiene must have been in there talking to him while the others were cooling off outside. She also may have retreated to a lower part of the boat during the fight. Who knows, there was a lot of fist and dog flying around in there. Also Darnand and Lil were both using touch Absorb Health spells on Ormil since Jerric had Lil’s weapons, so it was pretty foggy during the brawl. I can’t believe they didn’t kill him!

They left for good this time. Jerric put on a shirt and they headed away from the city. Rather mysteriously Abiene requested they stay at Pell’s Gate for the night rather than Weye. So they slept on the floor at The Sleeping Mare and headed back toward Anvil at dawn.

The Pell’s Gate folk get up early. Here Irroke the Wide assures them that the Kvatch incident will surely not repeat itself elsewhere. Jerric did not want to talk about that subject.

I anticipate a peaceful journey home, but one never knows. Jerric is worn out from this trip. I think it’s Abiene. He knows what Darnand and Lil will do in various situations, but whenever things occur he’s looking over his shoulder to check on the healer rather than doing what comes naturally. Plus he’s worried he’ll cut her in half when she runs up to heal him. Maybe he’ll come back from his next trip with a petite set of healer plate armor.

Grits, the gang looks great! I'm so glad that Rosie is fitting in. I see what you mean in her screens that she is big! Hopefully that means she can help warm the inside of a tent and won't get squashed when Jerric rolls over at night.

Awesome, thanks for sharing, Gritsy. Love those outfits!

Sounds like great (and confusing) fun on the Bloated Float! I have to admit that whenever I see the name Rosie, I think of her

Rosie rules! I couldn't imagine growing up during those times, but on the other hand, those times also brought people together in a way, and sometimes forced them to take on roles they weren't planning on.

And so here's somebody who's had to take on many different roles.

Kahreem of Weet

Class: Thief
Rank: Bandit
Level: 5
Age: 19
Bdate: Hearthfire 3, Year 314

Bounty: 90
Gold Carried: 114
Fame: 0
Infamy: 7

Skills: Literacy, Blunt Weapons, Shield, Horsemanship, Running, Thief

Morndas 12:44 am
Sun's Dusk 12, 3E 433

The night is clear, the skies full of twinkling stars, as Kahreem of Weet walks his horse slowly (and finally) towards Bravil.

"Seventeen days!" he says, after counting backwards in his mind. "Seventeen days I was in that ... stinking town!"

He rides without incident, past a lodge (which is locked with a 4-tumbler, Kahreem discovers), and a small hamlet by the riverside. The thief ponders trying the doors in this hamlet, but then discards the idea.

"All they got in there is some corn and food and some cheap weapons. No, I'm looking to plunder the BIG score! The castle! .. Maybe when I get back to--"

Suddenly he stops. A figure is in the road. The figure is dark, but definitely man-sized. As Kahreem squints, he notices the figure's got a tail. And he (or she) is aiming a bow in his direction.

"To arms! TO ARMS!" shouts the Khajiit bandit aiming the bow. He fires an arrow, hitting Kahreem's stolen bay horse.

"I used to be one of you, you know!" Kahreem tries to reason. "Much better living in the cities!"

"ARRGH!" plunk!

"Okay, now THAT was not necessary. You are going DOWN bandit!"

As Kahreem unhoists his club and rushes forth, the bandit swaps his bow for a daggar. "HUH!" swip swip swip swip! the bandit swipes at Kahreem four times in a row, and misses all four times. In return, Kahreem gathers all his strength, and BASHES the bandit with his club.

"Much better living in the cities!" he says calmly as the fight ensues. "You should try it. Put down your weapon, and join me."



But the bandit will have none of that! He swipes and swipes at the Weet Bandit over and over, missing much more often than hitting and injuring. "A-hahaha haaaa! You moooove like a pregnant cow!" He stabs Kahreem right in his abdomen, causing him to stagger backwards. "I am a pregnant cow, huh?" the Weet Bandit smashes the bandit once again with one of his power-swings, and follows this up with three club-bashes in a quick succession. "Hmm Humm OOOF!"

... the bandit falls dead.

"I am a pregnant cow perhaps, but I am a pregnant cow who is at least still alive."

The Weet Bandit loots the fallen bandit's body, and finds a much-needed lockpick.

"You should have joined me, sire. Did I not offer this very prospect five minutes ago? Now look at ya."



4:45 am
Kahreem finds lots of things to pick (mushrooms, flowers, herbs) on his journey. Although he is not sure exactly what they are used for, he's seen these sort of items for sale in the towns often enough that he knows he can make a few extra gold selling them. Eventually the sky lightens, and another day begins.

12:28 pm
His slow-paced stroll through the forest is interrupted by a lone wolf. As Kahreem gallops his stolen, unnamed bay at full-pace, a second wolf joins the first. As he makes his way towards the bridge fording the stream on Bravil's west side, a third wolf joins the initial two!

"Lovely day, isn't it?" ...asks one of Bravil's finest, as he shifts from one foot to the next.

"If you're looking to buy a horse, go inside and --LOOK OUT!"

Antoine Branck unhooks his war axe, while the guard draws his sword of silver. As both men fight the trio of wolves, Kahreem slyly rides his stolen bay past the melee, and dismounts in an area he hopes will be safe. A wolf manages to slip by the two men, and begins to attack Kahreem's horse. By the time the guard has finished off his opponent, he is able to help the Redguard with his.

"FORRR THE EMPIRE!"

...the guard roars, making Kahreem momentarily giggle. Kahreem was hopeful that the sudden activity of predatory animals he's brought to town will have distracted this guard, and is not disappointed when the guard does not notice the man who slips by him on the bridge. It is the same man who (1) broke into the Bravil Castle, (2) broke into Leyawiin's castle, (3) has tried (and will try) to break into every castle he can find, and most of all (4) has been accused of stealing a ring belonging to Countess Alessia Caro.

Kahreem of Weet safely enters Bravil.



Morndas, 2:17 PM
Once inside The Fair Deal, Bravil's general store, Kahreem sells all the ingredients he's picked, and winds up increasing his overall gold. He then makes sure to buy all of the cheap clothing she sells, including a fishing wader's suit. With disguise now a top priority in his everyday life, it's going to be important to change his appearance often.

He also has his gear repaired at An Archer's Paradox before heading off to The Lonely Suitor Lodge, where he hopes to meet up with S'Krivva, his Khajiit contact for the Thieves Guild. But he meets somebody else entirely.

"Is this business or pleasure?" asks a fine-looking Breton female. She is standing behind the bar, so Kahreem mistakenly thinks she is a bartender.

"Got any Cheap Wine?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Uh... what do I want to know?"

"The Doyan are the hands and eyes of the guildmaster. You taker your orders from them. You get your favors from them. The current Doyen are Armand Christophe and S'krivva," she finishes.

"You ... you are Thieves Guild?"

"Armand Christophe and S'kriva have special arrangements with the guards and judges throughout Cyrodiil," the lady, Luciana Galena says with a wink. "They can make all your outstanding warrants go away, for only half the price of the fines."

After several minutes of conversation, Kahreem gets the hint. This comely lady, her skin so pure and pale, is in fact Thieves Guild. Not only this, but she's a fence! Kahreem cannot believe his luck.

"So you are ... a 'bartender', eh? Wink wink, nudge nudge?"

"We'll see", Luciana says cautiously.

"Well you'se the finest looking bartender I ever did see!"

"Sorry. I don't get it," she answers. She gives the Weet Bandit a quick glare as she does so, hoping the stupid Redguard who's just entered the Lonely Suitor won't blow her cover.

"Hair as dark as chestnut, eyes as deeply-green as emeralds, and skin which is so delicate and white, just like porcelain. How about you and me check out my new flat. It's located right here in town."

"Don't waste your flattery on me!"

"I am sorry. Perhaps I may have been too quick with the come-ons. My name is Darnand," he says with a wink of his own. "I'm new in town. As you can see, I am dressed like an adventurer. That's because I am one. So pleased to make thy acquaintance, melady."

"I won't fight you," Galena answers, glad this 'Darnand' is finally getting her need for discretion through his skull.

"Why just the other day, I was attacked by a band of wolves. Three of them, in fact," he says, showing her his bloody-crusted club. "Well I took them down, one by one, while a wimpy guard and stablehand stood nearby and watched."

"Most impressive, I salute you!"

"Well, I'll be stopping by for more .. wine, and you'll be seeing plenty of me in this establishment. Take care!"

"Ohh I get it!" she says with a careless laugh, pretending to play along with him, while sliding him an empty bottle.

And this is how Kahreem of Weet met Luciana Galena, his second Thieves Guild fence.

This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 7 2022, 09:16 PM

Heh, love the conversation between Kahreem and Luciana. "So you are ... a 'bartender', eh? Wink wink, nudge nudge"

Well, since I've written this, might as well post it. I'll probably be back later with a second update.


The Imperial City, 3E 433, The Bloated Float

The tavern was busy, it was late afternoon, so the dockrats had started turning up, drinking away the aches of the days labour. Two Altmer are sat at the bar, each on opposite sides. One of them is Ormil, the owner, and the other is a Spellsword called Telindil, who arrived be ship that same afternoon.

“So what brings you to Cyrodiil?” Ormil asked Telindil, glad of another Altmer to talk to.

“Business and bureaucracy. I'm a freelance Spellsword, a mercenary, and since Traven reorganised the guild I've been told I need to reapply to get my certification back.”

“Your certification?” Ormil was confused by this. He knew Traven had made some changes, like the ban on necromancy, but this hadn't been covered by rumour or the Black Horse Courier.

“The guild's way of keeping track of freelance magic users. You need to be able to show basic proficiency in the schools of magic you employ, prove that you can use them safely, but you're not actually part of the guild. Well Traven put a stop to all that, and revoked the certification of everyone not a member of the Mages Guild. So I've come to Cyrodiil to find out what I need to do, since my local guildhall said that's what I needed to do, only to be told that I need to sign up to the Mages Guild if I want to practise magic legally.” Telindil shook his head and drank deeply from his tankard, the cool ale doing little to quench his anger.

“That seems rather excessive. I could understand him requesting that everyone reapply for certification if he'd made some changes to what was required, but this? It makes no sense.”

“Well they say that Traven's paranoid, convinced that Necromancers are plotting to attack the guild, or so they say, and that he wants every magic user under his command or in shackles.”

“But the-” Ormil never got to finish his sentence.

“Barkeep!” a voice roared out from behind Telindil, “Your finest ale, and be quick about it.”

Telindil groaned inwardly. He knew that voice. Casamir Lanier, a Breton. The two of them were in the same profession, and were apparently now in the same boat, literally and figuratively. Ormil scurried off, tankard in hand, and Telindil braced for the inevitable. He and Casamir had crossed paths more than a few times over the years, and never without a fight. And by the sounds of things, Casamir was already deep into his cups. This would not end well.

“What's that I see over there?! Lindy? Is that you, you goblin-fondling son of a swine?”

This time Telindil didn't bother keeping his groan inside.

“I still owe you for that last run-in, back in Hammerfell. You damn near crippled me, you bastard.” This was followed by the sound of a blade being drawn, and for a moment the whole tavern was silent, the only noise the creaking of the hull. Then the tension shattered as one of the patrons, a young Imperial woman, ran for the door, screaming for the guards. No sooner had she left than the rest of the patrons, Ormil and the Orc bouncer along with them, fled. Telindil turned to face the Breton, and no sooner had he done so than Casamir threw his first spell, a fireball. Telindil caught it on a fire shield spell, and the duel began in earnest. Fireballs hurtled back and forth, lightning bolts tore through the air, and radiant orbs of frost froze everything they touched. Magic was gathered and hurled, only to splash or ricochet off armour reinforced by defensive spells, and the force of their battle wreaked havoc on the tavern. Half the tables were frozen into a semi-solid mass to one side, the walls were covered by the crazed burn marks of lightning, and the bar was blazing merrily.

Telindil knew he was in trouble. Casamir wasn't half as drunk as he'd first appeared, and his innate Breton resistance to magic kept the worst of Telindil's spells from him. Meanwhile Telindil was being stung by every spell Casamir threw, his Altmer heritage working against him, even through his defensive spells. He knew he had to end this fight, while he still could. Batting aside an orb of frost with his blade, he charged Casamir, and the next phase of the duel began. Telindil wore only light armour of Mithril, rather than the heavy Dwemer-forged steel plates favoured by Casamir, so he was more agile than the Breton. The two danced around each other, Casamir's armour clanking with every step, their blades beating a furious tattoo as they battled. The two combatants forgot about offensive magic, instead reinforcing their shield spells whenever they could, and here Telindil had the advantage. His blade carried an enchantment of dispel, though the enchantments on Casamir's armour meant he was still the better protected. Telindil began to grow desperate. He might have been better with both blade and magic, but Casamir's defences were near impenetrable.

And in his desperation, an idea took hold. As their blades met once more, Telindil brought his free hand up before Casamir's face, and conjured the brightest light he could, shutting his eyes just before the brief flash of light. Casamir staggered backwards, blinking furiously and waving his sword blindly and his other arm waving frantically as he fought to keep his feet and clear his sight. Telindil dodged the blade and drove his sword deep into Casamir's side, piercing one of the few points he was vulnerable, under his arms. Casamir roared with pain, and swung his own sword with what remained of his fast-fading strength, burying it in Telindil's side. Both collapsed to the floor, and that was how the guards found them.