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

[Uleni Athram]

The shift ended had ended mercifully quick when Alorius Nystican, another employee of Wilbur, came in unexpectedly. He eagerly took over Dilemma's job, and the Dunmer was sent to her original position as an assistant chef. The work was rote since the menu (and the patron's appetites) didn't change much and she and the main chef knew each other well enough to work as one, spatula-swinging entity. In under thirty minutes they had already finished today's workload, prepared plates and utensils in a way that will allow a quick serving for any unexpected orders and still got time enough to prepare for tomorrow. When all was said and done, Dilemma was quite gassed but to her it was all worth it. A quick shift meant less pay, but she needed the time. She got places to be.

Bidding farewell to the elderly chef with a wave of her hand, Dilemma hang her apron by the backdoor and went outside. The sea breeze, salty and penetrating to her ashen and sweaty skin, was a delight. For a minute she just stood there, eyes closed, letting the wind embrace her and sweep the humidity of the kitchen off of her.

A pop of electronic connection buzzed in her mind and she knew that King the Imp and Queen the Dog had finally woken up from their slumber. She needed no eyes to know that they now approached her from behind. King flitted hazily around, before settling on her left shoulder.

Good afternoon, mistress. Did you have a good day?

I did. How was yours?

Queen stretched on her legs before letting out a yawn that Dilemma thought bordered on a howl.

I think Wilbur puts something on the feed he gives us; I've never had a good sleep like that since Chorrol!

Dilemma smiled; she knelt, eye-level with the still sleepy Queen, and tickled the canine's furry cheek.

After what you did to that drunken Orc in the Oak and Crosier, I think you deserve all the rest you can get, honey.

Queen licked her nose in response. She made a move to tackle Dilemma but stopped and sniffed her arms and chest instead.

Immediately her tail lowered and she bared her fangs.

I smell the stench of that Ylenno on you. Did he do anything untoward? I'll give him a bite on his 'Cavefish Shanker' if he so much as-

Dilemma hugged Queen's neck and immediately the hostility faded. The motherly instinct of the dog was the closest she had ever got to a real mother's affection, but sometimes it was just too much. Queen sensed this, and whined softly.

Ylenno's a friend, Queen. He made us stay in his home when we were in Bravil, remember?

Queen snorted.

He acts like the typical pack runt not knowing its place; boisterous and showoffish. Such braggadocio will make him have his day, I promise you.

King yipped a little yawn, before flying slowly towards the direction of the docks. Dilemma gave Queen one last pat on the head before following the sleepy Imp.

Princess told us what she found for you when we woke up earlier. I can already tell you are decided on this, Mistress. But... Are you really sure? It sounds to me that this... Silverware retrieval holds more danger than it seems.

Dilemma shrugged, the motion of it sending a little sting on her overworked muscles.

Every thing is dangerous for us. We have to risk it though; we're running short and the free training ends tomorrow. We have to have atleast three thousand gold to book a ship for Hammerfell.

Queen whined again as they exited into the cobbled streets of Anvil, the spray from the sea sprinkling the stones beneath their feet with a wet light. Dilemma had to watch her balance as Queen's motherly instinct yet again reared its head.

I worry for you, Dilemma. You run too wild for your own good. Is there anything I can say to you to convince you to cancel this trip to Hammerfell? These.. Sword-Singers that you seek could be dead, for all we know.

If they are, well... I wanted to see Hammerfell anyway.