The Shadow Under Fort Sutch, RP Playground Thread Options

[Uleni Athram]

The Shadow Under Fort Sutch
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Things were slowly going back to normal.

The momentous events of the Crisis were undeniable and unforgettable, but as time marched on ever forward, so too did the memories of fire and Oblivion slowly fade. The Empire, battered and bruised, laid low the Prince of Destruction and His unholy legions with the help from her sons and the Divines. They paid a heavy price, for the glorious line of the Septims ended with the shattering of the Amulet, and Martin's ascension to the splendors of Aetherius. The Ruby Throne lies unseated, the Crown unwore. The Scepter that commanded red legions to conquest commands them no more. The last divinity of Tiber's line stands petrified in the bloodlines' last moment of glory. A grave price indeed, one that would echo and change the Empire's fate forever, but it was a price they willingly paid. To maintain balance and order in the world of mortals. The populace all over the Empire contributed heavily into itz rebuilding. The toils of restoring the glory that was Cyrodiil slowly helped ease the shock and the horror. The Crisis would never be forgotten, yes, but in time it would be fade.

Things were slowly going back to normal.

From Bruma to Leyawiin, from Cheydinhal to wounded Kvatch, news spread of the collaboration between the three Guilds of Anvil. Even wounded Kvatch has heard, and the Empire bristled with curiousity and excitement. Even the other provinces took ear of the Expedition, headed by the famous Oedipus Nebraska, he who is renowned in the land for his deeds of daring. The eyes of this veteran adventurer has seen something in the darkness below Fort Sutch, and is eager to drag it into the light of discovery. All manner of characters and personalities are drawn to this expedition. The thrill of journeying forth in a strange land? The riches and rewards of fame it allures the world with? The discovery of secrets long buried by the ancients, whether it be damning or enlightening? Or the chance to create history with their own hands?

The Shadow under Fort Sutch detests the light from above, and will test those who invade if they are strong enough to even uncover its barest of secrets.....

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OOC: Okay, the introduction is finished. Since DE is the first poster, please, do your magic and let's get this show on the road! *roars*

[Lycanthropic-Legend]

Macalla was right. A young man putting his past behind him. She knew all too well that the temptations of life overpowered the calls of duty and devotion. The Nine Divines are worshiped throughout the empire and the people follow them religiously. Some of them, anyway. There were many that chose to simply forget the Divines and engage in less-than-noble acts such as drinking away their lives, robbing and stealing, murdering or worse . . .worshiping Daedra Lords. At least this young man was looking for adventure instead of any of these things. I can only hope . . .

He began to speak about his life as a monk and how he was sent to the Weynon Priory and why. Poor lad must have been following the footsteps of others his entire life and only once made a decision. Though he avoided his duties as a priest or a monk, nevertheless Macalla understood his position. He was unhappy where he was, as she once was.

The Dark Brotherhood only invited death, and inflicts death. It is no coinscedence that they too would face just retribution for what they have done, and by one of their own, no less. She only found it odd that her sins were not repaid in blood, but in grace. She had the Divines to thank for that. And while dark thoughts always creep into her mind, whispering for her to go back or for her to go into Daedric worship she still would never abandon the Nine.

Like him, Macalla was on an expedition of her own. After the fall of Umaril, and the rise of the Vigilantes of Stendarr, she was to undetake the crucial quest of exploring the ruins for any Daedric artifacts or anything relating to Daedra. And when given the chance, she is to purge them or take them for cleansing at the chapel. Even after Dagon's plot failed, and the remnants of the Mythic Dawn are being hunted down by vengeful and protective groups, the threat of Daedra is still present. She she would be the beacon, that instrument of light, to ward off the darkness.

This young lad, whomever he may be, may just be what she needs to help her on the task. She hoped he wouldn't be the only one, but he was lost. His mind perhaps ripe for the Daedra or any evildoers to take hold of. If she could somehow get him to return, not specifically to the monkish ways but at least revering and respecting the Nine, then she could please the Aedra and help another soul. She would hate to see this man follow in her footsteps.

Daedra worship or the Dark Brotherhood is no place for this boy.

She took on a sincere look of pity as she heard him reveal about his father's death. She never remember much of her father, but at least he had the chance to keep his sword as a lasting memory. And the rings, too.

"I am sorry about your parents," she lamented. "But at least you are alive and well, though you are far too young to be even thinking about going in some perilous adventures. Trust me, I know this. I've been in Daedric and Dwemer ruins in Vvardenfell, Ayleid ruins here . . .and let me tell you: they are dangerous, and not everyone that goes there ever has a chance of coming back."

She paused to begin eating her food that was already going cold. "The monks are skilled in hand-to-hand combat and for self-defense. But sometimes you must take the offensive, and you might need much more than your fists to save you. How old are you? Twenty? Twenty-three? You should have joined the Knights of the Nine or the Vigilantes. We would be more than glad to take you in and train your ourselves."