The Saga of Laprima Donnaugh Options

[SubRosa]

At least they were able to find Mansonn and give him a proper send off.

Lady Donnaugh's flower picking paid off, giving her the opportunity to spot the hidden sniper. Now I suspect the ambusher will become the ambushee. Yep, another one down, even as Laprima feels the guilt of ending another person's life.

Thankfully they made to Rorikstead without any further trouble, or losses. Good thing there weren't any blue-bellies waiting there.

I was about to say time for some diplomacy. But it seems that Rorik is having none of it. Maybe tomorrow morning then.

Uh oh, Sixpenny is clearly up to no good, reporting to another spy. Skullduggery is afoot...

[Renee]

@Acadian: See, that's an example of the way I game, traveling with other people. Sometimes there'll be that one archer or spellcaster, standing off to the side. I'll go for that one guy or gal, rather than try swinging weapons, or firing a bow into the crowd. But in this case, the brawl happened exactly as written. Laprima was picking plants, and lo, there's a bandit archer standing off to the side.

Oh yeah, she's still got feelings when combating others. She's got more compassion than I do! But yeah, she's putting herself in situations she's not 100% comfortable with when combat occurs. But we can also liken this to real-life soldiers, right?

Glad you picked up on the Sixpenny part at the end! See, maybe this wouldn't have the same impact as if the entire chapter was posted as one, right?


@SubRosa: Mansonn's body was found, yes. Robber's Gorge was a mess of corpses, so it was tricky dragging the fellow off to the side, but that was done as well.

I've read about complaints how archery was "too easy" when Skyrim was new, and it indeed does feel like she's taken down the two bandits she directly caused injury to so far. But I don't care. I'm not changing difficulty away from Adept. Maybe this is due to so many players saying Oblivion archery was too hard.

Later on in life she'll get to the point where she's becoming jaded.


@No one in particular: I noticed something about Robber's Gorge and the intersection of roads; two places baddies congregate. The bandits didn't attack until the party made it deep into bandit territory. They usually attack before we get into the intersection, for instance, and the archers of RG also begin firing their arrows well before we make it to their boulder trap. But maybe this is because gamers are typically nearing these locations from the other direction. In effect, the game starts in Helgen, most times folks are going to be headed to Riverwood + Whiterun first, and then at some point travel north toward Solitude. Laprima's party is headed from the other direction, heading mostly south.

[Renee]

.
___________

.Sir Rorik

___________


Tordas, 25nd of Sun’s Dusk

The next morning it was sunny, which was absolutely stunning after several days of blah-weather. Laprima ate a sweet roll and drank a flask of tea. Fussed her raven-colored hair a bit, and selected one of the two finer outfits she’d brought. Sir Rorik appeared to consider himself as upscale, so she believed her chances at convincing him would be better enhanced by a prettier set of clothing. Also, Rorik probably took his status as the village’s leader more seriously than Dragon Bridge’s current drunken substitute. …Which means there was no way Laprima would be wearing the same tunic and skirt she’d worn while traveling the roads, participating in combat and such.

She strode up the hill, found Rorik’s ‘manor’ (which has been placed into quotes because the place looked merely similar to all the other homes in the village: ordinary, common stonework mortared randomly together, with a thick roof of thatch). She knocked on the door, and waited to be invited inside, saying a quick prayer to Dibella, to Zenithar, whoever was willing to accept her wishes.

Though she considered herself to be a neophyte when it came to combat, she thought she might stand on better turf when it came to verbal cajoling. Let’s see if all those Bard’s College Speechcraft lessons would now pay off!

Once inside, she noted the place was rather dark. Asked Rorik if it'd be okay if she could cast a spell of Candlelight, to which he seemed delighted. Wonderful. Off to a good start, it seemed.

“Greetings, milord,” she began. As she did so, she tried her best to appear more delightful than she was actually feeling (which wasn’t entirely peachy). Especially after losing a comrade. Especially after three solid days of wariness while traveling in cold weather.

The previous night as she lay in bed, she recalled a few court engagements she’d witnessed down in Cyrodiil. She reviewed what'd gone right and what had gone wrong with these engagements, so she could possibly emulate some of their better aspects now. For instance, entering court with a grimace or a frown straight away would often lead to an instant downturn of events, from what she’d seen. Did not matter how badly those crops were failing, did not matter how angry a peasant was about the latest increase in taxes, starting presentation with a hard face could immediately be taken the wrong way. -- Because members of nobility weren’t often as 'connected' with the concerns of other classes, guilds, or factions.

Oftentimes, they had never experienced the plights of everyday commoners, everyday payment of tariffs in the everyday world, and so on. Rarely were they as personable as Elisif (who hadn’t been nicknamed ‘the Fair’ without reason). What they often responded best to had little to do with reality.

“My name is Laprima Anne Donnaugh,” she started, inserting some down-home Cyrodiilic charm into her voice, lightly drawling those Rs, for instance. “And I am here on behalf of Lady Elisif of Solitude. And, well… how are we this fine morning, sire?”

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude but Jouane's the one who deals with people,” Rorik began, his eyes reluctant to engage. “I'm afraid I lost my charm years ago.”

“Oh! But why discredit thyself?” was the ambassador’s upbeat reply. Note: she was making sure to stick with an older vernacular method of speech while navigating Second Person pronouns: ‘ye’ and ‘thyself’ rather than ‘you’ and ‘yourself’. Apparently, such ways of speaking had been popular during previous eras in Tamriel, and were sometimes better appreciated amongst the upper classes.

“We’ve got sunshine," she continued, "glorious and warm just outside the door!” As she spoke she made grand gestures with her hands and arms, gestures which wouldn't seem out of place during Headmaster’s Trial, the college’s currently-canceled play. “We’ve got our lives and our loves and possibly libations, forsooth,” she added, her flowery, poetic gabbing the result of some stream-of-consciousness intellect.

Good grief... If Sixousie, Sirdasa, and Chamany could only see me now…

Now to change the subject toward the actual, intended subject. Very important to keep the conversation going, now giving Sir Rorik a chance to possibly flatter himself. "So, from what I understand, this village has been nameth straight from thy efforts,” she said with a curtsy. “Rorik of Rorikstead, forged from thy very own namesake.”

“Yes, that's right,” the man’s unenthusiastic demeanor lifted just a tad, like a crowbar prying under a rock. “Look around you. Most of the lands you see are mine.” Rorik explained that long ago, while his comrades were helping the Empire fight the Aldmeri Dominion to the south, he was able purchase most of the property they were standing on. The ground hadn’t originally been as ready for agriculture back then, but after months and years of seeding, plowing, and rotating they’d ultimately been successful with crops. Local population grew, travelers attracted, the Frostfruit Inn began to thrive, and so on. Perhaps a merchant shop could open if things kept improving.

Splendid. Feeling encouraged, Laprima next made sure to subtly direct Rorik to relive a moment of bravery, asking about his war-efforts as a younger man. At this very moment her shimmering light spell fizzled. And maybe it'd be rude to replenish it. The room became dimmer.

“I commanded a force of several dozen troops,” he stated with a measure of pride. He further described that he’d almost lost his life after a particularly nasty bout against the Aldmeri. “Jouane saved my life. He’s been my closest confidante since.”

Ah, so that explains it.

Laprima made a quick mental calculation, evaluating progress so far. Opinion? Well, she hadn’t been kicked out of the elder's manor yet! Which meant she was (so far) performing this presentation with perhaps some measure of success. She still had Rorik’s attention. Hadn’t been directed away from him and toward his confidante, ‘Jouane’. Perhaps it was time to sweeten the honey, to make an attempt at Jarl Elisif’s pitch.

Her countenance changed from embarrassingly sunny to mildly serious.

“So, as mentioned, I am from Solitude, with a delivery from Jarl Elisif herself.”

“Ah-hah,” Rorik’s brow furrowed.

“As can be seen, here is the official writ I’ve been tasked to deliver,” she said, handing the scroll which'd been wax-stamped by the palace's scribe. Rorik took the scroll, broke the stamp, unfurled it, took a minute to read.

“A request for re-alliance with the Empire?” his brow knitted, apparently confused. “But Whiterun Hold has already been taken.”

Uh oh.

“And that is where Our Lady’s request becomes pertinent." Don't break stride, Laprima, thought she. "For thy supporting of the Imperials was once quite fervent, quite absolute, from what’s been stated upon record, correct?”

“Yes I was firmly sided with the Empire, but….”

Laprima’s face changed again. Now attempting to portray some sort of gravity and the actual situation at hand, her expression went from mildly serious to grim and determined. Her affect was subtle. If she’d walked in the door with such heavy expression, chances are she’d now be speaking to Squire Jouane instead of Sir Rorik. So went her opinion, anyhow.

“General Tullius, and Jarl Elisif beside him, have need for more of a declarative decision now that things have turneth for the worst, your eminence,” she said, slipping away from the previous olden way of Second Person referrals. “A certain and definite fording of voice toward regardance of territory.”

Rorik looked back down at the scroll in his hands. Said nothing.

“Should it be that you decide to reaffirm sides with the Empire, allocations can be made, money, is what I speak of. Coin, to support whatever 'tis you shalt percept to require in times to come, especially during this current, lamentable period of war.”

“Hmm.”

“Troops, as well. For instance, I do notice that though you’ve got a couple guards marching up and down Rorikstead’s avenue, they don’t necessarily appear to be Stormcloaks. Tullius and Elisif, they offer a very secure promise they can provide, if need be. Aye, Whiterun itself has been captured, but this does not mean outlying portions of Whiterun Hold are to remain under Ulfric’s grimy hands.”

“I see. Looks as though I've got a decision to make.”

“Ah. So what might this decision be?" the ambassador asked, her tone of voice attempting befuddlement, as though she herself did not have an answer. --Important to let the man believe he's the one thinking this through...-- But after a minute or so without reply, Laprima couldn't help a bit of urgency. Make it sound as though the rebels are headed right this way... "I apologize for being abrupt, but time is of the essence, sire!”

“Well as you know, I have been allied with the Empire in the past," he began somberly. "Elisif's charter is quite convincing. Which I mean to say, my mind remains affixed. Seems to me Ulfric cannot possibly allow the likes of Rorikstead to exist without some drastic change. Dunmer and beastfolk, for instance. From what I hear, Ulfric Stormcloak looks down upon their kind; would BANISH these inhabitants from Windhelm if he could." Gaining a bit of angst, he pumped his fist weakly in the air. "Ennis, one of Rorikstead's farmers, is Redguard. Suppose Ulfric someday wishes to oust those of Hammerfell descent? Or place additional tariffs upon outsiders?"

Laprima remained silent, her expression puzzled.

"Well, if those are truly his ways," he continued, "I cannot abide and support such policies.”

For a moment neither of them said anything. And Laprima was having trouble trying to decipher Rorik's rambling reply. Was that a yes?

"To clarify, I shall sign the charter," he said. He searched a nearby desk for a moment, found a quill. Inked his signature where the Blue Palace's scribe had left an empty box.

Goodness. "Many thanks!" the ambassador said, a little too enthusiastically perhaps.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to many important matters, posthaste!"

And with that, the noble vacated his manor, leaving Laprima wondering what important matters there could be? Once both of them were outside, she observed the village's leader, as he began gazing over the latest crop of cabbage and rhubarb.

-----------------------------------------

Persuasion Success!

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Notes:
1). The actual persuasion moment was when she says “So what might your decision be….” and I admit I made this into a Very Easy attempt rather than anything tough. Rorik seems rather indifferent either way, but his past siding with the Empire does give a rather forceful clue.

When she gets to Falkreath though that attempt will be tougher.

[Acadian]

I love how you shared Ambassador Laprima’s careful thinking over each move she made. What to wear, how to present herself, manner of speech and her carefully chosen words. I think she acquitted herself well as Elisef’s envoy. That Rorik feared some of Ulfric’s possible policies and that Laprima voiced Elisef’s promise of gold and troops seems to have convinced the town’s namesake to pitch his lot with the Empire.

Nicely done!

[SubRosa]

It is neat to see Rorik's place, his stead if you will, blanketed in snow.

Laprima is getting fancied up and shedding some light on matters. Time to get down to some diplomacy. I like how she is considering what manner of speech to employ in order to improve her chances of success.

When Rorik was describing the founding of his stead, and how it slowly grew over time, it reminded me of those city building games.

I enjoyed Laprima's sales speech to Rorik, as she steadily worked him over to her favor. Success!

[macole]

There is much to like about this chapter. How Laprima changes expression and manner of speech to convey her feelings was especially good.

[Renee]

This shall be the final Saga of Laprima chapter for spring of 2024. I wanted to get a bit further, maybe up to the Riverwood parts especially. But it's already becoming summer here in Maryland. I can't play Skyrim if.... well, I'm sure you all know my weird seasonal gaming habits by now.

Thanks to everyone who's commented and supported throughout winter into spring. That last chapter in particular, I've been dying to write it up for ages. Ever since the whole ambassador/delegate idea *POPPED* into consciousness. Heh, just wait until Riverwood.

SubRosa reminds me of the snow on the ground, oh yeah, gotta play Weather God and change that for this final chapter. (Opens Wrye, go into Installers tab, locates 'Climates of Tamriel - Winter Edition', right-click > uninstall, voilà.) Supposed to be an overnight warmth bubble which melts it all.

Chances are I'll return to Joan's story at some point, we'll see. I've toyed with the idea of trying something new, but truth is I wanna get MW's Main Quest done and written up. It's a Scorpio thing. 🦂

Is that it? I feel like I had something else to say. Well, if I do, I'll just edit it into this post. Take care! ☕

[Acadian]

Yup, put LPD in the fridge so she doesn't melt during the summer and I look forward to you continuing her story this Autumn once the weather gets a little more Skyrimesque.

[Renee]

.
___________________

.Sixpenny’s Siege
___________________

Fredas, 26nd of Sun’s Dusk

They’d been traveling for less than an hour, and already she knew something was wrong.

“Alright, I got one…”

The sun was wan, the atmosphere was fair. One thing nice about Hjaalmarch so far: it wasn’t so bleedin’ cold here. This was partially due to an overnight weather formation which caused a bubble of warmth to pocket its way into the region, melting most of the snow which'd previously coated the ground even just a few hours ago.

“Why do pirates take a long time to learn the alphabet?”

The party had arranged themselves into their usual formation: Sixpenny striding up front, the two male soldiers in the middle, Laprima and her horse taking the rear, Tårn varying her position. Sometimes the Nordic was alongside the elf, sometimes she was following the horse, sometimes she’d be somewhere in between.

Again though, something odd. Laprima noticed some figures. Individuals, on the distant horizon. Hard to tell, but it looked as though there were three of them. All three were walking the road with obvious purpose, getting closer. Laprima couldn’t see yet who they were, but the glint of their apparel was unmistakable.

“Ahhhhhhhh.” Draper pondered the question. “Why do pirates take a long time to learn the alphabet? Hmm. Something to do with troll’s bane?” he guessed. “Nah, I give up. Why do pirates take a long time to learn the alphabet?”

The glint of their armor…. The unmistakably golden glint of their armor....

“Because they spend lots of years at C!” Rokkr Van Haggar’s laughter wheezed across the tundra. “Get it? At C?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Pierre Draper shook his head. “Hurr hrr harr.”

“...Like the letter C instead of the word sea…”

“YEA, I get it, Red.”

Sixpenny… went Laprima’s sudden thought, he is up to something. I can feel it. I KNOW it.

“That's nothing," Van Haggar replied with a smirk. "Be prepared to truly be stumped, Pierre, when I tell my next one. Stumped, just like a fallen oak tree.”

Something about the way the elf’d been eyeing her the day before, after she’d returned from conferring with Rorik, carrying the glow of success. – The party had begun to celebrate after they’d learned of Rorik’s acceptance, but quietly so. Too loud, and their revelry might be perceived as inappropriate gloating. So they’d kept their celebration low-key. Bought a round of drinks after her successful return and began toasting each other. They’d also bought food: sweetrolls and raisin bread, feasted around the table, and later an entire roasted boar. Because here was confirmation, confirmation that their toil and hardship upon the road so far might just be worth it in the long run. Lady Donnaugh was making some sort of difference, they agreed.

“Right, stumped, what-ever.” Draper was speaking now. “So here’s one.”

“Go ahead!”

“Which room, in a house, do zombies spend the least time in?”

There were also the things Sixpenny had mumbled three nights ago in Dragon Bridge, after Laprima had pretended to fall asleep. Something about ‘the first step being taken’, or some such. Aye, the man was up to something. To increase her suspicion, all the previous day in Rorikstead (and into the night) he’d been gloomy and evasive; his usual verbal swagger noticeably absent. The lack of sarcastic comments he’d normally utter left an obvious series of voids, moments which would've been typically filled by Sixpenny-style taunts and thinly-veiled insults.

”Nords, they just do not understand the benefits of proper magic…”

or

”Womenfolk, performing the roughneck duties of men…”

“Aww, that one’s so old,” Van Haggar shook his head. “So old, it's damn-near rusted out. Heard that one as a lad, Pierre. Which room do zombies spend the least time in? Answer: the living room.”

“Drats. Got me!”

As of now, Sixpenny the elf was standing off to the side of the road a bit. His hood had been turned at a peculiar angle.

“Draper. Rokkr. Tårn!” Laprima’s voice, urgent yet hushed behind the soldiers. Without realizing, she made the gesture which caused her unnamed horse to halt. "Attend! Toward the road ahead!"

Actually, Tårn was already aware. She’d already come to a cautious halt. “Kan bli fiender,” she woman-growled in her language. “Are to fight?” she then followed in the common tongue. No answer was necessary. Her giant blade already seemed a pre-motioned answer.

The figures approached nearer, until they were a few meters away. Thalmor! Two wearing the golden armor issued by the Aldmeri Dominion, the third dressed in a similar dark robe as Sixpenny.

"And so, we come to the end of the road,” Sixpenny announced with a smirk. “Well, the end for your party at the very least," he said directly to Laprima. "I'd introduce everyone to my cohorts...."

"Looks more like goons," Rokkr muttered.

"...but I'm afraid there shall not be any need for pleasantries. We'll all get acquainted in a few minutes either way, but be forewarned. Chances are not all of you shall have a chance to vacate this soirée, and continue onwards."

The ambassador said nothing. Suddenly, she was glad she was wearing armor, purchased from Rorikstead’s smith the day before. At Draper’s suggestion, she’d bought a set: cuirass and leggings of hide, after he explained how necessary armor could be along the road.

“What exactly have you in mind, Sixpenny?” Pierre Draper asked. “Not that I need to ask. I can tell an attempt at military blockade when I see one.”

“Very astute,” answered the elf. “I must say, though we’ve had our differences Sargent Draper, I will admit I admire your cognitive abilities.”

Draper said nothing.

“Indeed, we are here to relieve Lady Donnaugh of her current detail,” the elf replied, pointing at each soldier one by one. “This can be done in either of two ways: by relent or by force.”

Tårn made a soft noise, almost like an animal’s snarl. "Rggllllsshhh…." hard to tell whether this was an actual word or not.

Which Sixpenny ignored. ”In effect, should it not be obvious to you, Lady Donnaugh, it is our aim to now separate Your Ladyship from these … inept, undisciplined 'guards' you've been assigned.”

To which Laprima shook her head sadly. “Knew something was amiss. Ever since I overheard you muttering about attaining the first step in your plan, or whatever some-such diabolical nonsense. Knew you were up to no good,” she said, angry and grinding her teeth.

“Up to no good?” the elf scoffed. “Bite thy tongue, woman! We are here to exalt your current position within proper society!”

Though she was not entirely interested in hearing exactly what this meant, she couldn't help but ask. “Exalt my current position?”

“Affirmative. We, us Thalmor this is, are now going to take you back to Solitude. Ultimately, we shall both return to our embassy. There, we shall introduce your eminence to the sort of life you SHOULD be enjoying!” the Altmer’s voice rose, his hands and arms gesturing with passion. “Which is to say, not out here traveling the roads! Shivering and sniveling! Risking thy very life with these ninnies…”

Sixpenny was grandstanding now, lifting his voice across the tundra (which, at that odd moment, Laprima noticed was more colorful than the landscape of Haafingar). Obviously, the elf was proud to have duped everyone so far.

"...there you shall live the life of a princess," he promised, actually smiling. As if she’d suddenly consider such a thing. “A queen of thy domain, a baroness titled with proper land ownership,” he explained. “Whatever you desire. No more scrubbling along the roads, hoping to change the outcome of a war which shall never be won by their kind,” he pointed again. “For it shall be us, US! The mighty Thalmor, who shalt decidedly reign supreme across this land!”

"Not if we can help it," muttered Van Haggar, readying his warhammer. “You all are going down,” he warned, his usual mild voice gaining an edge. “You fooled us, I’ll admit. You’ve also blocked the road, look at this! But most of all, you interrupted our joke session. And for that, you shall pay.”

“So, you are choosing to take us on rather than relent, ignoring the possible initiative of your party’s smarmy leader?” Sixpenny pointed to Draper. “Very well. It shall be you who’s left deceased on the side of the road Red Rokkr, for the wolves and the vultures to feast upon.”

Everyone by now was prepared for battle, but Sixpenny’s soapbox moment was not over just yet. “Jarl Elisif, she already knows of our plans,” he explained to Laprima. “She knows, and has fully approved of this outcome.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Laprima replied, fingers edging toward her shortbow.

"Please, do not bother for that," Sixpenny warned, his expression almost apologetic. “I do understand your logic, Lady Donnaugh. This is quite abrupt for you, I do understand.” He steepled his hands, readying whatever magical spell was to come. “Let me just repeat, we have no desire to harm you, Lady Donnaugh.”

“Do not call me that, ‘Lady Donnaugh’.”

“Fine. Laprima, then. We have no desire to harm you at all, Laprima Donnaugh. You can simply walk away from these… brutes, and the matter is resolved. In fact, I shall gain higher compensation if you are to walk into our embassy unscathed, but that is beside the matter.

“Us goldenrods, as we're so fondly referred to by your kind,” he continued, “we could use a pretty face to represent the Nedeic side of our organization,” he added, another snide smile right there upon the lower half of his V-shaped face. "We do accept other races, you see. And what better way to welcome the Nords, the Imperials, the Bretons to feel more welcome, than an actual member of royalty representing their kind."

He faced the soldiers: Draper, Rokkr, and Tårn. "And after we disperse this... so-called guard detail, we shall have full credence to do as we wish." He turned to Laprima again. "Lady Donnaugh, now is the time for you to stand aside and allow destiny to take its course."

"Told you once, do not call me that!"

"Ah, apologies," the elf replied. "Heat of the moment, my manners have gone by the wayside,” he raised his hands again. “What can ya do? But otherwise, you shall see, Laprima Donnaugh. Our dominion shall treat you with the utmost respect and grace you deserve."

Finally his sermon was over. Sixpenny turned to the three Thalmor. "And now, it is time. HUZZAH!" he called. Apparently this was their cue for combat.

"Somebody help!" a woman called, one of the random travelers who'd walked by just then (there were several). Laprima barely noticed as the woman put her hands above her head, then scurried off.

"I'll see you BURN!"

The rest of the moment was a blur. Laprima stepped back and drank one of the regenerative potions she'd brewed back in Solitude, while the Solitudians and Thalmor commenced attack! -- Sixpenny threw one of his extremely loud shock-attacks *BKSSH!!!* while Laprima readied her bow. Aimed. Then released straight toward one of the amber-suited Thalmor. One thing for sure; Sixpenny's promise was true; nobody attacked the ambassador. Which gave her an opportunity. She grabbed for another arrow, this time making sure to poison it.

"You cannot conceive of the power I wield!" one of the Thalmor warned Tårn, while the giant swung her enormous greatsword at the bastard. Laprima (again) took the time to aim carefully before loosing straight into the golden Thalmor's side.

"I'll paint the snow with your blood!" Van Haggar roared, even though the ground had been completely bare of white for hours.
"BEHOLD the Mighty THALMOR!" cried one of the elves.

Other than this, it was difficult to quantify whether the archer made much of a difference during the battle, as weapons swung, spells were cast. One of the Thalmor was also a dedicated archer, shooting arrows into the fray. This lowlife became another obvious target for Laprima, standing off to the side with his cheap hunting bow. "Arrgh!" he called as she poisoned the man from afar. Blood and fetters, gauntlets, boots, taunts and warnings... once again it all happened so fast, and was all over before she knew it. Draper sliced upon the Thalmor who'd shown up swinging a mace of iron, while Van Haggar took on an additional Thalmor wizard, one of the goons, bashing the fellow with his enormous warhammer!

Sixpenny himself lasted the longest; his years of magical training and mastery much more dedicated than whatever background his goons had received. And because of this, the mage who'd joined their party four days ago, surreptitiously plotting to force Lady Donnaugh to come along with him once the ambush was over, force her to follow him, locked within ropes and chains if necessary, was suddenly surrounded by Draper, Rokkr, and Tårn. The years he'd spent since the age of twelve, since his youth in Summerset, practicing and utilizing his covert attempts at wizardry, they were no good as all three soldiers clambered upon his person at once! Slicing and dicing and bashing!! -- The final moments of the elf's life were gruesome, not that they should've been anything other than such. Laprima danced and glanced around this way and that, her bow pointed as she circled, making sure none of the goons were left standing.

...Sixpenny, being surrounded at that moment; there was no way the archer could even hope to cause the elf injury, not with all Laprima's allies slamming in the way.

"No!! NO!!!!"

The fight was over. Amazingly, it was done. And none of her party had been downed, except for Sixpenny. Arguably, he'd forfeited his position long ago, of course. Didn't truly count, then! After everything had concluded, Laprima could not help but scream a battle cry over the mage's fallen corpse. In past days she'd been upset; hesitant to gloat after viewing the results of the enemies she'd caused direct harm to. But this time she was proud! This time, she felt she'd truly made some sort of a difference. She called and she cried and she let it all out, her normally pleasant downhome Cyrodiilic voice now the shriek of a banshee!

"Yah, that's it!" Rokkr Van Haggar approved while Tårn joined in. Suddenly, all four of them were shouting and yelling over the fallen!

Upon looting the Aldmeri, a real score for Lady Donnaugh: one of Sixpenny's goons had been carrying a magical staff. The soldiers explained that here was a powerful weapon, a weapon which could be wielded and utilized by anybody, thereby causing the staff's carrier to become as adept as any mage of destruction, as long as they properly aimed. Laprima thought at first she might just sell the dreadful thing, surely it'd fetch some pretty nice coin in Riverwood. But after holding it a moment, and then willing the magic within the staff to release, my goodness such a rush! The resulting ball of fire which raced across the plains zoomed over its grasses, before smashing into a faraway boulder!

Nay, this staff of destruction would not be sold to Riverwood's trader.

And now that all loot had been collected and they were back on their feet, it was the noble's turn to try for a joke.

"So, what did the number 8 say to the number 0?" Laprima quizzed the soldiers.

"You're halfway to 4?" asked Draper.
"Hmm, I dun-know," replied Van Haggar.
Tårn made a sort of squeal, perhaps frustrated at being unable to understand.

"Do you think this belt is too tight on me?"

Huur hrr harr harr the soldiers laughed, as the sun continued to shine across snowless meadows.

~The End (Season Three)~

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Laprima and Tårn

Sinister Sixpenny

Sixpenny's Sermon

Sixpenny goons approach

Mulling Melee - (Love the guy just standing to the side, watching it all.)

Sixpenny zaps Tårn

Shocks and Swings!

"Crying" over Sixpenny

Lady Donnaugh's New Destruction Toy

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Thanks again to all.