The Quest to Njaal's lost brewery. RP thread., The RP thread. Options

[Tellie]

Authors note: This first post will be an intro written by me for our 'NPC' Njaal, and will effectively be the start of our RP, read it well as all the information we need is right here (for the most part).

City of Anvil, Year 425 Third Era, The Flowing Bowl.

Njaal Mead-Brewer was a man on a mission, WAS being the keyword here as he was at this very moment quite unconsolable and perhaps more than intoxicated than your average drunkard in a Tavern. He had travelled all across Cyrodiil in search of a few lucky men or women to help him (and coincidentally earn a good bit of gold doing so) but none were willing "Payment up front" they all said.

You see Njaal was a (perhaps not famous yet) mead brewer. His mead so good that it would rival even the Black Briar's own mead, had the blasted Black Briars not hired mercenaries to raid his brewery and stolen the dwemer plates upon which he had carved the recipie in coded language.

He knew the sellswords were still in Cyrodiil as due to growing discontent in the province the borders were all tightly controlled and descriptions of the mercenaries had already been given to the guards. He only hoped that perhaps here in Anvil he might find someone to track down the plates, he had already given the innkeeper a handsome tip to 'refer' anyone who might be on the lookout for quick (and dangerous) credits, so now he just had to wait.

This post has been edited by Tellie: Mar 16 2016, 10:05 PM

[Callidus Thorn]

Edril sneered at the cavalier manner in which the other Dunmer lit his pipe with a fireball, the scarred flesh of his left cheek pulling taut for a moment. His sneer only deepened as he smelt the tobacco smoke, with the faint undertone to its smell that suggested the addition of a pinch of moon sugar. The practice had been common enough back in Vvardenfell, though it had been frowned on by House Telvanni.

so, you in?

"Hmph. I'd hardly call a thousand septims 'lucrative', but necessity does present something of a leveling force." Edril extended his left hand, and a nearby chair leapt to his grasp. "I'm interested, but I'll need some questions answered before I say one way or another. For a start, how many have signed up so far? What do you know about those mercenaries? And just who am I dealing with here? You, or the drunken Nord?"