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> The Quest to Njaal's lost brewery. RP thread., The RP thread.
Tellie
post Mar 21 2016, 11:30 PM
Post #21


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From: Tel Delvanni



"Aye, I do have a question. What's your name? And when do you embark on this journey of yours?"
the Imperial asked.

"Mt name, is Athyn Lymdremni, Archer, Sellsword and expedition leader. I intend tojourney out once I feel we have an adequate sized party".

Spotting a strongly built fellow Dunmer storm away from Njaal muttering to himself about a Waste of my time Athyn took action. Waiting until the Dunmer had almost reached the door to the in he threw his dagger so that it was buried in the doorframe, turning back to his table Companions he grinned.

"Looks like we might have another one there".


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Acadian
post Mar 22 2016, 01:59 AM
Post #22


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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas



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The old Dunmer began by cursing Maenlorn for feeding him leek soup instead of suggesting the grilled catch of the day that Buffy had learned to prefer. He then proceeded to answer her questions, emphasizing the threat this ‘Red Skull’ mercenary band represented.

By the time he asked for further questions, Buffy was convinced the cause was reasonably just. She was familiar enough with the Black Briar family to know of their reputation for extortion, bribery, smuggling and other unsavory activities.

She did indeed have several more questions, but held them for the moment. She had no idea if Kraven was interested in this proposed expedition. If he was not, then he might want to excuse himself before more details were discussed. If he was interested, then he likely had questions of his own. Well-skilled at nursing a single serving of Tamikas all evening, she slowly swirled the goblet before bringing it to her lips and barely wetting them.

The Imperial did indeed have questions – which Buffy took as a sign that he might be joining this adventure. She found it curious that he asked the Dunmer’s name but did not yet volunteer his own. His other questions were quite similar to those remaining on Buffy’s mental list. She remained curious about where Athyn might begin their search.

Kraven seemed both interested and undaunted, despite the hazards painted by Athyn. Buffy was unsure why that pleased her. She smiled as the answer briefly rested its muzzle on the edge of the table with a hint of pink tongue protruding between sharp fangs.

Her focus returned to Athyn when she saw him suddenly produce a dagger and, in a single smooth motion, throw it. She turned to see and hear the weapon impale the tavern’s door frame, apparently, arresting the exit of a bulky Dunmer with dark hair trailing down the back of his robes.

Athyn turned back to Buffy and Kraven as he announced with a grin, “Looks like we might have another one there.”


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Callidus Thorn
post Mar 22 2016, 02:27 PM
Post #23


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From: Midgard, Cyrodiil, one or two others.



Edril had been about to leave The Flowing Bowl when a thrown dagger thudded into the doorframe a moment before he reached it. While he muttered a brief spell of telekinesis, his mind worked. The Bosmer had been unarmed, but the armoured Dunmer had had the look of a mercenary, so Edril guessed him to be the thrower.

As he turned back to face the armoured Dunmer, the dagger wrenched itself from the doorframe and hurled itself back across the room, slamming point first into the table he was seated at with a solid thud. Edril stalked over to the table, unhurried, casting a powerful shield spell as a precaution.

"You have my attention. Whether or not that goes ill for you is dependent on your next words. I advise you make them count."


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A mind without purpose will walk in dark places
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Darkness Eternal
post Mar 22 2016, 03:53 PM
Post #24


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From: Coldharbour



Kraven Desselius, The Flowing Bowl.



"My name, is Athyn Lymdremni, Archer, Sellsword and expedition leader. I intend to journey out once I feel we have an adequate sized party".

The more the merrier was the known saying, but to Kraven that could help or hinder him. More people meant more protection and a higher chance of this being a success. On the other hand, more people meant more service that could prove to be beyond his capablities, and thus possibly make the travelers quite unhappy. A sword in the rump from either direction.

The Imperial heard the dark elf out, and watched dumbfounded as he tossed a blade right at the entrance. Kraven and Tiber followed the movement of his weapon, the former expecting it hit home in some unsuspected person's body . . . only to find that it struck against the door, impeding another man from exiting.

“Looks like we might have another one there.” Athyn said, with his trademark grin.

Glancing back at the door, the young hunter saw the weapon dislodge from the wood as invisible hands threw it back with force into the table where he was seated. Kraven ventured in imagining if that blade struck some unfortunate passerby in this grand display of recklessness. Amazed but only momentarily, Kraven realized this was a work of magic. The spellcaster was no other than a dark elf, who's threatening words sounded off in the tavern.

"You have my attention. Whether or not that goes ill for you is dependent on your next words. I advise you make them count."

The Flowing Bowl went quiet: Athyn managed to get patrons' attention too, as all eyes drew to those in the table and the elf at the door. This must have been a Dunmer thing.

Kraven held no love for mages; he didn't understand magic, he didn't know any schools of destruction, conjuration, or alteration. And being strange to him, he feared it to a point where he avoided it whenever he could. He assumed that Buffy and Athyn were spellcasters. Usually most elves were, whether they were born in jungles, amidst ashes, or in distant islands.

This newcomer had hair like his own, but everything else was a direct contrast; he was physically stronger, built like a fighter, a gaunt countenance with a hint of nobility and a terrible burn scar that drew over on one side of his cheek. Strange, thought Kraven. I thought it was hard for dark elves to burn. He must have suffered this burn by arcane means. Probably.

Kraven sat quiet as he watched for Athyn's response. His eyes searched any place where he could find cover from flying forks, knives and chairs if this conversation turned out to be a violent confrontation.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Mar 22 2016, 03:54 PM


--------------------
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
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Tellie
post Mar 29 2016, 03:15 PM
Post #25


Mouth
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Joined: 10-November 05
From: Tel Delvanni



"You have my attention. Whether or not that goes ill for you is dependent on your next words. I advise you make them count."

Athyn was hardly surprised when his dagger was returned, though having it returned With Telekenisis was a welcome surprise, mages were always useful.

Observing that the inn had gone quiet and everyone were staring Athyn slowly removed a pipe from his Pocket and added a small amount of tobacco before lighting it With the help of a voracious Fireball in his left hand. Loosening one of his axes in his belt as well served its purpose in making most of the patrons realize that they had far better Things to do than to listen in.

"The drunkard you saw fit to walk away from in dusgust, which is quite understandable believe me, has a very lucrative offer", Athyn took a puff from his pipe and released a foul smoke from his mouth while he felt the tobacco and small amount of moon sugar ease the tension in his body and sharpen his senses.

"Everyone who signs on will recieve a thousand septims as well as five percent ownership in his mead brewery upon the Return of the engraved dwemer plates that holds his recepies . The plates were taken by the mercenary Company known as the Red-Skulls, due to the current political situation they are stuck in Cyrodiil, giving us a chance of finding them...so, you in?"


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Callidus Thorn
post Apr 1 2016, 04:09 PM
Post #26


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Joined: 29-September 13
From: Midgard, Cyrodiil, one or two others.



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?"


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A mind without purpose will walk in dark places
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Acadian
post Apr 1 2016, 08:34 PM
Post #27


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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas



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Buffy squirmed a bit in her seat, grateful that her small size and magicks could allow her to slip under the table and disappear if the flames and daggers progressed beyond show and bluster. She also began to realize that she might well not be the most accomplished mage in the room. Each of the two Dunmer looked like they had centuries of experience on her. And from their casual displays for effect, they had used their years to garner some impressive abilities.

She breathed a sigh of relief as things deescalated and turned back to business. She quietly listened as the new arrival – ‘scar face’ for lack of a name yet - began to quiz Athyn about their prospective quest. Indeed, his questions included a couple she hadn’t thought of.


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Uleni Athram
post Apr 2 2016, 02:13 AM
Post #28


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Joined: 19-September 11
From: From: From: From



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.


--------------------
She said I'm insane, yeah
I might blow my brains out
Xanny numb the pain, yeah
Please, Xanny make it go away
I'm committed, not addicted, but it keep controlling me
All that pain, now I can't feel it, I swear that it's slowing me
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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 4 2016, 09:39 PM
Post #29


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Joined: 10-June 11
From: Coldharbour



Mages. Mystic Archers. Kraven half expected a staff-wielding wizard walk through the tavern to sign up for the task at hand. In mere minutes Kraven saw two schools of magic in play. Destruction and Mysticism. Athyn lit his foul-smelling pipe with a fireball, and the other dark elf's display of telekenetic used to pull himself a seat was not amiss. What? You can't use your hands grab a seat like the rest of us?

Heh, came a passing thought. If any of them practices alteration and can turn my [censored] into gold, I'd be the happiest bastard alive.

Gold was a welcome thing in his life. Nay, in fact a nescessary thing in his life. He needed a bed to rest.

"Hmph. I'd hardly call a thousand septims 'lucrative', but necessity does present something of a leveling force." The scarred, ill-mannered dark elf said. His methods for communication seemed brute, and not without tones of violence. Kraven would prefer to stay clear of him. Though temptation was loud enough to make him utter a word to the conversing dark elves, Kraven only narrowed his eyes, but didn’t rise to the bait.

Judging from those words, Kraven assumed the man was rich beyond measure. He'd often heard some dark elves in Morrowind preffered magics and ancient knowledge rather than material wealth, which many considered a simple means to an end. He's heard of the Great Houses in Morrowind and their strange named which he could not remember. Could this dark elf be a member of one of those houses?

He wondered the same about Athyn. The only one decent enough so far, as far as impressions go, was Buffy. She remained ever so quiet in the company of an axe-caressing dark elf and sneering stranger. So small that she could just as easily slip away from thought.

Athyn explained nothing knew to this stranger, and as he did Kraven could feel his tired mind and body eager to drift into deep and dreamless sleep. Athyn might even give the same story about the Red Skulls and their love for cadaverous pieces and macabre artwork. None of which scared Kraven. He knew a man like the mage was not intimidated easily.

Getting up, Kraven took a sip of his drink before nudging his pet canine in the head. He looked at Athyn before he spoke to the dark elf. "I'll be outside if you need me. I'm interested." He turned to Buffy, and nodded his thanks to her with a smile. He averted his gaze then to the dark elf and nodded as well. He left the tavern with Tiber following him outside.

Outside of the Flowing Bowl, Kraven breathed the fresh salty air and looked around for a nice corner to sleep in. Maybe the beggars know.



--------------------
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
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Tellie
post Apr 10 2016, 07:09 PM
Post #30


Mouth
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Joined: 10-November 05
From: Tel Delvanni



"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?"

"Valid questions", Athyn agreed.

"If you yourself were to agree there does appear to be four of us so far, though I do hope we can get more if it proves neccessary. As for the mercenaries themselves, I used to know a few of them so I know how they work".

Athyn took out a worn map of Cyrodiil as well as a quill and ink and started to mark off locations. "They are for the most part exiled Bretons, or otherwise on the run from High Rock for one reason or another, and hide their crimes through a thin veneer of respectable mercenary. These locations are the locations they normally use when in Cyrodiil...or at least they did fifty years ago, but I figure it is a good starting point".

Looking back and forth between the others at the table Athyn grimaced slightly, "They are also not only good with their blades, but they are also quite fond of fighting dirty, so take no chances. Njaal over there has agreed to let me run things, so you'll be dealing with me".


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Callidus Thorn
post Apr 15 2016, 03:31 PM
Post #31


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From: Midgard, Cyrodiil, one or two others.



"Hmph. At least the drunkard has the sense to stay out of this business." He threw a disdainful glance at the Nord before continuing. "Breton mercenaries are a problem though. They're better sneaks than fighters usually, if they're not using magic, but they take a lot of killing with spells, directly, at least. But, it's not an insurmountable restriction." He paused a moment, stroking his goatee as he thought. "But four of us? Your qualifications are clear to see, and I've never met a Bosmer who carried a bow they couldn't use, but what's the Imperial for? Managing supplies? I doubt the boy's of much use for anything else."


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A mind without purpose will walk in dark places
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Acadian
post Apr 15 2016, 04:59 PM
Post #32


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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas



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Kraven rose, confirmed his interest to the pair of Dunmer, smiled his thanks (for the meal, she assumed) to Buffy and excused himself. He and Tiber then stepped out of the tavern.

Athyn then proceeded to answer the other, still nameless, mer’s questions. Buffy learned that Athyn was indeed in charge, that he knew of numerous possible locations to search and that his party currently consisted of up to four.

The newcomer wisely concerned himself with the abilities of his prospective fellow questers.

“My name’s Buffy.” She hoped that advancing her own name again might prompt the discovery of this new Dunmer’s name, lest she begin thinking of him as ‘scarface’.

“The bow is indeed my primary asset. I use a summoned one that is backed up by supportive magicks and stealth.” She glanced briefly toward the tavern’s door. “The young Imperial who just stepped outside calls himself Kraven and I just met him this evening. I’ve learned that he is presently broke. Judging by the calluses on his hands he is no stranger to hard work – so I tend to believe his story that a cutpurse is responsible for his lack of coin. I bought him dinner and learned that his appetite rivals that of my mare.” Buffy didn’t really expect much reaction to her little attempt at humor from this pair of somber Dunmer.

“From his mannerisms and outwardly visible gear,” she continued, “I would guess that he is perhaps more at home hunting or farming than fighting. I know nothing of using a sword, so cannot opine regarding how he might fare with a blade in hand. I do know animals though, and would not discount the man’s companion, Tiber. I expect the wolf-dog has the lupine senses, cunning and physical abilities to locate, close with and effectively engage foes in close quarters combat. Particularly if backed up by those of us with ranged ability.”


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Callidus Thorn
post Apr 21 2016, 03:41 PM
Post #33


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Joined: 29-September 13
From: Midgard, Cyrodiil, one or two others.



Edril was surprised that the Bosmer had replied in place of the mercenary. He turned an unhurried, appraising gaze upon her, unconscious Telvanni habits seeking to gauge how dangerous she might be. "A dabbler in the arcane as well as an archer? Impressive for one so young. Your kind tend to have no great talent for magic, so I assume your father was not a Bosmer? A Breton would be my guess, if he were an Altmer you'd be taller." Edril paused a moment stroking his goatee in an unconscious gesture as he pondered. "Or perhaps you were simply born at an exceptionally fortuitous time."

Edril shook his head fractionally.

"The boy's name is craven, you say? Hardly a recommendation on his part, even without him being pickpocketed on his way here." Edril turned to face the mercenary. "If neither of you know him, I would say that the boy needs to answer for his skills before you can consider his inclusion."


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A mind without purpose will walk in dark places
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Tellie
post Jun 16 2016, 03:42 PM
Post #34


Mouth
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From: Tel Delvanni



Athyn looked back and forth between his fellow Dunmer and the Bosmeri archer before shrugging slightly. "Perhaps-" he started as he took another drag from his pipe, "e may be unskilled...but if nothing else he does provide the abilities of cook and pack mule, if he can't fight he'll have to do something else to earn his keep".

Returning a finger to the map he pointed out Skingrad. "I do know that they usually have a man in the Two Sisters Lodge who acts as a fence for them. Last I met him he was a snivelling craven, so he should probably yield us any information we want if we...ask him properly", he finished with a grin as he caressed the curve of his axe.


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Uleni Athram
post Jun 25 2016, 06:15 AM
Post #35


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Dark looks, and dark intentions. Beneath the veneer of blue collar labor lay the bloodlust of fools, philistine to anyone they deem weaker than themselves. Ships come and go, and Dilemma suspected life did as well, in the back alleys and hidden places of the docks by way of the unsuspected dagger. Though the port of Anvil was hailed as the sea portal of Cyrodiil, Dilemma has no doubt that she entered a dog-eat-dog world as well. She kept her eyes straight ahead, one hand on her foil, the other on Queen's leash. King sat on her shoulder, scanning their surroundings for any hostile beings that might approach. Dilemma, underneath her worry, was relieved. This kind of world was one she was familiar with. She felt at home in the this dingy place, surrounded by stinking men and women who no doubt had ill intentions towards one another.

Finding Maenlorn's establishment was not that hard. One needed only to find the most noisome building in the docks (which was quite a feat, considering the business of the port) and enter.

The interior of the tavern was....

Well.

It wasn't anything fancy or unfamiliar, that was for damn sure. Whores, local toughs, seedy looking personages just waiting for a brawl to erupt; if the arena of the docks was her home, then the murderer's home that is the tavern was her playground. And play she did. She easily spotted the Nord her spy cat had marked for her earlier, and as Dilemma made her unassuming way towards him, she dipped her hands in pockets that were not her own and took gold that did no belong to her. It was natural for her, as easy as breathing. The mean streets of Bravil had taught her the proper techniques. Hunger gave her the motivation. And Ylenno gave her gimmicks that would better her chances. Using her pets as subtle distractions, Dilemma basically pick pocketed her way to the Nord. She stood before him then, a scrapyard dog's grin on her face, her pockets a little more richer than they were previously.

The Nord, for his part, focused more on his cups than anything else. In fact, he seem to regard them more intently than he did his purse; Dilemma lifted it in plain view and he did not see it. She placed it beside his cups and he did not pay attention to it.

She slapped him in the face, and he fell face first on the table, unconscious not from the blow, but from the spirits he imbibed.

I'm impressed, Queen said in the link. Not many are able to be asleep with their eyes open.

What a waste of time, Dilemma responded. Where the hell is that cat?

Over here, Princess said. To your left.

Her ire now fully spurned into being, Dilemma whirled to the direction Princess had provided and saw her cuddling up against the leg of a blonde bosmer. A moment later the irascible cat leapt to the woman's lap, and looked up at her with large eyes and a soft meow. Well nothing to it, Dilemma supposed.

She strode over to the Bosmer's table, noting the interesting characters seated there engaged in a heated conversation. She produced from her pockets her magical vellum and enchanted pencil. Upon its surface she wrote the words;

Hello. Can I have my cat back?


--------------------
She said I'm insane, yeah
I might blow my brains out
Xanny numb the pain, yeah
Please, Xanny make it go away
I'm committed, not addicted, but it keep controlling me
All that pain, now I can't feel it, I swear that it's slowing me
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Acadian
post Jun 25 2016, 04:43 PM
Post #36


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The two Dunmer were discussing Kraven. Athyn seemed to conclude that he could carry equipment or perhaps even cook if nothing else.

As Athyn was explaining why Skingrad seemed a likely starting point for the quest, Buffy became aware of an animal brushing against her leg a moment before it hopped up into her lap. The small cat seemed friendly enough. Buffy was musing whether the feline smelled Superian on her buckskins when a young Dunmer lass appeared in front of the table.

Based on the girl's size - about the same as Buffy's - she appeared to be in her early teens. A pet imp sat on one shoulder and a dog at her side. The little mer had short white hair and her face was adorned with decorative ink marks or war paintings of some sort, along with cheap jewelry. Her clothing was well-worn. The girl busied herself with some sort of small tablet and scribe instrument for a moment, then displayed the results:

Hello. Can I have my cat back?

Quite surprised by the entire incident, Buffy did manage to surmise the girl was likely mute. Lifting the compliant cat up, Buffy offered it to the small Dunmer. "Well, hello back. What's your name, young lady?"


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Uleni Athram
post Jun 28 2016, 11:54 AM
Post #37


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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


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She said I'm insane, yeah
I might blow my brains out
Xanny numb the pain, yeah
Please, Xanny make it go away
I'm committed, not addicted, but it keep controlling me
All that pain, now I can't feel it, I swear that it's slowing me
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Acadian
post Jun 28 2016, 07:12 PM
Post #38


Paladin
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Joined: 14-March 10
From: Las Vegas



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When next the girl held up for display another message, Buffy remembered. “Dilemma? Why the last time I saw you, you were waist high to an Imperial and cutting purses from the crowds visiting Bravil for the Tournament of Archers. Now you’re tall as a Bosmer – well, a small one anyway. Ylenno in Anvil? Oh my, I hope he’s not in jail.” The wood elf's blue eyes sparkled with mirth.

As the conversation regarding the brewery quest had slowed pending the recruitment of more adventurers it seemed, Buffy waved to a chair, indicating the girl was welcome to join her at the table if she wished. After all, Buffy reminded herself, it was her table. “What brings you to the Flowing Bowl, Dilemma?"


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Screenshot: Buffy in Artaeum
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Callidus Thorn
post Jun 28 2016, 11:18 PM
Post #39


Councilor
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Joined: 29-September 13
From: Midgard, Cyrodiil, one or two others.



Edril cocked an eyebrow as the mercenary fondled his axe. "Cowards are more easily intimidated with magic than with steel, though a little of both should make it easier." He paused for a few moments, scrutinising the other Dunmer, once more stroking his goatee as he pondered.

"To answer your question from before; I'm in. Provisionally. I reserve the right to withdraw should I find sufficient cause to do so."


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A mind without purpose will walk in dark places
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Darkness Eternal
post Aug 9 2016, 08:17 PM
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Joined: 10-June 11
From: Coldharbour



Kraven stared at the young man before him; he had long hair that fell to his neck, a face sprouting shadows of stubble growing underneath his chin and neck, warning him it was time for a shave. The water rippled, and the young man's face - for a moment- looked like that of a wolf. It was only after a second that Kraven saw Tiber walk up beside him from the water's reflection.

Tiber sniffed out the barrels for food, as he often did. He had quite the knack for finding meals. Kraven enjoyed bringing him in his travels for many reasons, and this was only but one of them. Tiber was young, and too curious. He supposed all young Highland wolves were like this at a young age. These wolves were common in Colovian hills and in the Great Forest, where wild packs were feared by farmers and shepherds. But some foresters have domesticated the beasts and, bred for size, use them as mounts in the ancient times.

He was a valuable friend.

Kraven sat up, patted the dirt away from his pants, and walked away from the ships. He looked hot and bedraggled as he made his way along the Harborside. Sweat had left dark rings beneath the arms of his light linen shirt, and he had the same sour look on his long face worn the time he arrived.

It was time to leave Anvil.

By staying too long, and waiting too long, he concluded that he would not work with the dark elves. It was best he took leave, and if any problems rise in the tavern, should anyone be stabbed, caught on fire or flown out the window as victims of telekenetic power, he wanted no part. He did not want to stand idly as some drunk mistaken witness points an accusing finger claiming, "Aye, I saw the lad with them, too."

No, not today. Kraven whistled, and Tiber followed.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Aug 23 2016, 09:46 PM


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And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
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