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]

With a mere tap of the pencil, the vellum erased itself of any writings and became fresh once more. The enchantment of these ensorcelled stationaries never ceased to amaze Dilemma, even after all these years of owning them. Ylenno, with what meager money he had earned doing honest work, had gifted it to her years ago. The fact that Ylenno could actually labor legitimately had surprised Dilemma as much as the princely gift did.

Dilemma, she now wrote for the Bosmer, ignoring how sharp Princess' claws felt as the feline climbed her way to her left shoulder. Thank you for not adding her to your palate; other people would not have been so kind.

For some reason or another, this blonde elf looked familiar. A sense of one-sided connection buzzed in her head as she regarded her sun-kissed countenance. She reminded Dilemma of Bravil. Specifically, a building with a blue flag and unearthly smelling concoctions.

I'm not surprised, Queen said in the link, laying down on her belly near the Bosmer's feet. She's Buffy of that homely city's Mages Guild; you know, the spitting image of Ylenno's sister? Don't you recognize her scent?

She's not a mangy canine like you, quipped Princess from her perch, looking down contemptuously on her counterpart. Her snout is untrained and dry. Unlike yours..

Shut it, you. If I wanted your opinion I'll bite it out of you.

Oh my, you actually know what an opinion is?

She is indeed Lady Buffy of Bravil mistress,King the Imp remarked, utterly ignoring the telepathic hostility blooming between Princess and Queen. She looked more seasoned than I remember her for.

Hmm, Dilemma thought. Wait till Ylenno hears about this! She began writing a little remark when she realized that one of the people conversing was none other than that Dunmer who looked as if he mistook a piece of guar dung for Jaffa cakes. Irritation bloomed in her veins.

Look at that face, she thought venomously. His mother must've mistaken that craggy mess for her cutting board, if he has a mother at all.

I think I know you, missus, Dilemma wrote, sparing not one more glance in Cutting Board's direction. Aren't you Buffy from Bravil? Ylenno can't keep his mouth shut about you. In fact, he's here in Anvil.

This post has been edited by Uleni Athram: Jun 28 2016, 11:56 AM