Ye Old Tavern, Innsmouth Options

[Namaste]

-----A bit of background. Back before Morrowind released I created a topic in another forum with the same name. The idea behind this is to toss your character in with minimal info given and develop him along the way. For instance in the the first post of this story i will introduce several characters and will control only one. If you wish you may control one of them our introduce your own. I will end the first chapter with a lead in, such as "he turned as the door opened" allowing for a new character to enter, just ignore those lines if you wish to use one of the characters already present or simply a character that I hadn't noticed.

Our Tale Begins:

If you travel just south of Balmora these days you will find an old tavern, and inside that tavern is an old man. His mind is weak these days and he remembers little of the outside world. He lives instead vicariously through the stories, whether they be false or true, of his customers. He has many tales, one for each guest, tonight i will pass on one of these.

The bar was busy one night, guests of many races bustling amongst each other yet sitting for the most part segregated. A large Orc sat in the corner drinking in solidarity, a group of young wood elves drank themselves stupid and danced gaily, and a young Breton bleeds to death on the tavern floor. Moments ago he had chatted with the most beautiful Nord you ever saw, but with little warning a voluminous figure rushed from behind and stabbed him in the back. A most cowardly blow for sure. Now the young man twitched and pulled away from the wound, but the murderer had hit deep. As the lifeblood of this young noble spilled onto the floor the tavern grew quiet (aside from the Wood Elves who were to drunken to notice a thing) A silence falls over the crowd as they turn to see who has felled the young man, off to the side the bathroom door swings open.


{Please Read and Respond, and tell me if i suck}

[Namaste]

The Orc rose on shaky feet, his equillibrium still offset by the surprising strength of the golden helmed figure.

Stupid man hit Thrall?

The Orc spread his legs and brought the axe back over his right shoulder with surprising speed and struck forcefully at the golden helmed figures back, in ordinary circumstances the blow would have been too fast to avoid and would have ripped deep into its targets body leaving behind the taint of rust and something else the Orc was not aware of, but these....these were not ordinary circumstances for that golden helmed figure was involved.

Instead of being mortally wounded the figure simply darted to the side and the blow hit the Argonian high in the shoulder leaving it's left arm dangling by a layer of muscle and a few pieces of tendon. The helmed figure stood, blade drawn ready to fight, as the Orc wiped his axe on his pants. A fight was averted when the Argonian began to emit noxious yellow fumes. The golden helmed figure took a step back, unsure of what monstrous sickness could be carried in such fumes but the Orc sat beside the Argonian until the fumes petered out and the Argonain began to twitch, as the golden helmed figure joined the orc in observing the would be assassin the Argonians eyes cleared and widened in fright.