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 bar keep signaled the Golden Helmed Figure over to him, the figure stepped over the dead bodies kicking away the Orc's hand as it reached for his ankle. The bartender looked deeply into the visor, obviously trying to get a look at the figures eyes. The figure cocked it's head questioningly and the bartender took that as his signal to just give up.

"That uh...," the barkeep coughs, intimidated by the figure, the mention of Gunji, and the high death rate in his bar as of late, "That Argonian isn't Gunji...he's just a dumb farmer who had a place a bit south of here...Gunji, he's a bit of a local legend actually."

The barkeep pauses waiting for the figure to signal him on, the figure remains stoic.

"Gunji is a name with a history round these parts. I'll tell you the story but just gimme an hour or two to wrap up business, and swear to me on whatever god you hold dear that you won't mention my name to a soul. And if that ring is what i think it is, destroy it."