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*

[Darkness Eternal]

Drakothemir, Count's Arms.

There a bit of a silence after Drakothemir spoke. He could sense most of them did not trust him or felt awkward around him. He could tell this by seeing as how they were more energetic and happy when they first walked in prior to Westley throwing silverware across the room for no apparent reason other than his own rage. A rage with Drakothemir partially felt responsible for. Had he not provoked the hound would he still had reacted the way that he did?

Curious, Drakothemir settled back in his seat for a second. No matter. There were worse scenarios that unfolded from insignificant things as words or gestures. A tavern brawl would be a speck compared to what has happened in his history. Nevertheless it would still be quite interesting.

The Nosferatu glanced around the tavern soon after he last spoke his words about the Priory and his scholarly interests. He then looked straight at Kayla as she took a sip of something . . .tea? Wine? He breathed in as a regular man, but caught the scent of something stronger. Blood from Ylenno's face. He saw it shed when the spoon had hit his face minutes ago. But it didn't bother him as much as, say, a vampire fledging would be bothered and thrown into an orgiastic abandon. It took years to master his blood-hunger even when his clan's bloodline was altered by Clavicus Vile. It was a long, bloody process but in the end it paid off. Somewhat.

Vampires always felt thirsty. Drakothemir felt thirsty at the moment just by seeing that tiny bit of nectar. But he wasn't stupid. The enviornment, the people and the current situation allowed him many opportunities such as ordering more wine which he had already been seen drinking. While it would only wet his throat, it would not quench his thirst and it had no nutritional value as blood did. And blood was both his food and drink.

Drakothemir refused to allow himself a smile as he raised his finger to summon a servant boy who looked much like the other young woman who served him wine earlier.

"Bring us a bottle of Tamika's wine!" Drakothemir told him, and turned his gaze to Kyla. He wasn't particularly fond of Altmers. Many people of Tamriel weren't fond of them either due to their pride but Drakothemir respected their excessive confidence only because they deserved it. They had fine tastes and wondefully crafted archictecture and they made fine mages. But most of his enemies were High Elves and it was due to their rooted attitudes that made them such enemies against him. It had always been so, and he was sure he would have problems with Altmeri maidens in the future . . .if they proved to be murderous or dangerous.

Kayla, on the other hand, has evidently assimilated into Nordic culture. Drakothemir did not miss when she revealed her parents, biological and adoptive, had been killed along with her siblings. Despite her somewhat civilized attitude(aside from slamming her fists on the table), Drakothemir wondered what else this woman had picked up in her years. The scars on her arms could be many things, but what mattered was not the physical attributes but the mental quality. And Drakothemir knows that the mind is a malleable thing. Malleable and yet so vast that many could truly understand how their own psyche works and how powerful it could be if set to the task.

Somewhere in his expression there was a smile. "The monks never drank much wine in the Priory. I probably shame the Nine right now in spending my year's savings in this bottle." He waited as the young man vanished into the kitchens. "But I never had the pleasure of sharing drink with new people. It is one of new things I wish to experience with friends."

He looked back at Kayla with a cheery look on his face as he spoke in a friendly tone. "Whatever it is you are drinking is a load of swill compared to Tamika's wine. I do not know how the beverages are in Skyrim but this wine is almost as if drinking water from the Realms of Aetherius!" He turned to Buffy and Ylenno and then Westley. "I believe a single bottle won't hurt us. You all look quite able bodied to shrug off some fine drink. But we probably shouldn't set out to the Fort if we drink it."

As he finished his sentence, the boy rushed in with a single bottle of Tamika's wine. One of the finest wines in Skingrad, or perhaps even Cyrodiil itself. No doubt it was valued for the taste and not the price.

The man placed the bottle on the table, along with new cups for everyone else. The vampire sighed. "Divines bless that woman for her gifts with grapes."

He pulled a small sack of coin from the pocket of his robe and set it on the table. "I'm sorry if it's not vintage, but we've all just met and I am short coin."