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> The Wobbly Goblet Playground
Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 9 2014, 12:51 AM
Post #841


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Joined: 15-November 12
From: Texas



Ushak idly sipped her water, still contemplating her meal choice. She had caught a glimpse of the woman behind the mouth-watering smell; a Nord, no less, and that was good enough for her to trust the food would be filling, if not too salty or bland. It was hard to tell which was which.

She heard someone speaking next to her, the woman who had come in earlier. Ushak didn't feel like socializing, nor did she feel up to being around too many people. But once the night came, once she had had her rest, she'd outdrink all of them.

She took off her helmet, her thick black locks spilling over her shoulders. She slid her fingers though her hair and blinked her pale blue eyes at the blonde woman. She was vaguely aware that there was a chance her hair was sticking up in odd places, but still mostly shaped as her helmet on the top. She sorely needed a bath.

"Do they?" She said in a slightly amused tone without turning towards the woman. "It was my understanding that most inns do, unless you're closer to the border of Skyrim. Then you get what you get."

She realized her words might have sounded sarcastic, but she wasn't in the mood to feel any remorse to possibly hurting someone's feelings. She was hungry, tired, and dirty. Back home, she'd be re-reading one of her favorite tomes or opening a new classic without her father's knowledge. Though not fond of magick himself, Urab gro-Shub valued knowledge and history. He'd entertain himself and her with stories of ancient monsters, magickal tales, and the history of anything you could think of.

But he wasn't a soft man. He was, after all, an Orc. He expected her to know the basics of weaponry, and the history of their people, though what he knew had been passed by word of mouth and dusty tomes. News traveled slowly in Skyrim, and most of all, in Winterhold.

In the end, it was he who encouraged her to make her own niche in history. "I know my place in history," he had said to her in his rough, low voice. "Go find your place. It's not here, behind these walls with dusty books. You have three days to prepare."

Without the rules of a Stronghold to tie her down, Ushak did just that. Though unskilled with a weapon himself, he knew many books to give her to teach her what she needed to learn. But it was all technicality and to experience at first. She had the knowledge, she just needed the practice.

Venturing through Skyrim to Cyrodiil have given her just that. The armor that had weighed her down like the world was on her shoulders made those same shoulders strong. Her mace was like an extension of her arm, and her shield had many dents that saved her life.

She finally turned to the woman.

"Ushak gra-Shub." She said simply.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Apr 9 2014, 01:10 AM


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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 9 2014, 03:22 AM
Post #842


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From: Coldharbour



Vera scratched the wood of the counter with her long nail, carving into it out of habit as the Orc woman replied. Her lips curled at the Orsimer's words, though it wasn't due to the tonality of her voice or the way she spoke.

"You haven't been to many inn's here if you believe that," Vera responded. "They don't serve food the way they use to. You'll have better service down by Anvil or in Skingrad."

It was true. She's been to plenty of inns, and the Goblet was the best so far in quality of service. Vera thought back on a day her and Lycus spent two days at an inn a few miles south. The barmaid was a terrible, envious and disrespecting wench that secretly soiled her food. She wench was a wanted woman, and she became a barmaid to hide herself and perhaps start anew after attempted murder and unfaithfulness to her lover. Unbeknown to her, Vera and Lycus had been watching her for quite some time. It made hunting her through the thick of the Great Forest enjoyable, quite sporting. They had bows, she had nothing but a dress.

The Orc that introduced herself as Ushak gra-Shub removed her helmet to show her black hair that tumbled to her shoulders. Vera wondered why she looked different than the average Orc, and then saw that her eyes were a clear blue. It made Vera wonder of the woman's parentage.

She looked like a traveler. Most Orcs were one way or another a warrior or an adventurer, taking refuge in their strongholds across certain lands. Their culture was brutal, tough and unforgiving. She's met many of them and fought very few of them. What is said about their martial prowess is true. They're fearsome combatants when giving into their berserker rage. Ushak looked young, but was she competent with that mace?

Vera's food arrived, and she removed her hand from the making her markings on the counter. When Ushak looked at her, Vera returned a glance. "Luka," Vera said, giving her nickname.

She shifted in her seat with her tight-laced leather pants and shirt of roughspun brown wool. Her arms extended beside her plate, she looked down at it so the smoke could lift to her nose. It was good.

And what was Lycus doing at a moment like this? Eating snow.


--------------------
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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Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 11 2014, 03:33 PM
Post #843


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Joined: 15-November 12
From: Texas



"Perhaps the inns serve the food the way I want because they believe I'll rip their leg off and kick their own rears with them." Ushak chuckled. "Perhaps I might use that threat again one day." Her helmet thunked on the wooden bar stool as she set it down. Her legs ached, begging for hot water, and she itched in places she couldn't mention aloud.

She didn't find herself particularly fearsome, but she noticed people flinched easier here. In Skyrim, some thick-headed Nords would sooner bow up to her rather than slink away, like most people do here. Luka did not, she saw. That was a welcome change.

"Luka," Ushak repeated after the woman, putting it to memory, though it didn't matter. The woman's face would soon blend with others, and join the other hundreds of faces she had seen through her travels. As the woman savored the tantalizing aroma the was lifted to her nose, Ushak 's stomach growled. She turned to the barman.

"Spiced Honey Boar, well done, three rolls, mead, mashed potatoes on the side." She set the appropriate amount of septims on the bar, and the man took it without so much as a sigh and disappeared in the back. Ushak turned to the woman named Luka, her expression neutral.

"Where can I find a minotaur?"

The question wasn't phrased with an inflection, she realized, but as a statement.

"Forgive my bluntness. My father is a scholar in the College of Winterhold, and I'd like to bring him back a souvenir when I return. There are no minotaur in Skyrim."

A large cup was slid in front of her, and Ushak saw it was her mead. She took a swig and set it down, wiping her mouth.

"Better than the horse piss they serve in Winterhold," she mumbled before taking another drink.


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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 11 2014, 05:39 PM
Post #844


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From: Coldharbour



Lycus.

The beast tugs at the flesh of the dead sheep, eating his fill with zeal. The throat and chest had been torn apart, and glistening innards and ribbons of ragged flesh dangled from where the belly had been opened. One leg had been ripped right off the socket; The werewolf bit at the bones, gnawed and cracked, picked clean of meat.

He ate everything undisturbed . . . until.

"What in Oblivion is making the sheep go wild?" a voice said.

"Shut it," another one said. A female one. "Bears be at it again, methinks."

"Could be Lucellius' boy again. Lil' bastard never learns."

"Whatever it is, we're dealing with it."

The wolf saw them from the distance coming his direction. He can smell the neglect and sweat from their bodies. It smelled like weakness, like a young or aged deer driven to the fringe of the herd, prime pickings for predators. There was absolutely nothing more savory that the meat of Man and Mer. The wolf knew this.

And he moved forward.

Despite his massive size and full stomach, he maneuvered over the carcasses of the various slain livestock in the barn without making much noise. He crouched low, hidden behind the wall of hay while in shadow. Watching and moistening his lips.

The humans came in with torches, and gasped. The wolf saw the beat of their hearts suddenly take speed, going faster and faster. Even in the cold, they produced perspiration. Unlike some, instead of walking further in to inspect the carnage, they turned upon heel and fled.

The wolf took action immediately, and burst from the barn and into the open. He found his target, and tackled her down.


****


"The advantage of being an Orc," Vera murmured. "Bet you don't even have to say a word to get them to do thing they normally wouldn't do. Perhaps you should."

I have to actually talk, and in most cases, do. But Vera didn't say that. Not everyone who looked at her would be quick to label her as dangerous. In fact, her simple low-class outfit was much like sheep's clothing. Folks would be fast to place her under the good-looking lass with no coin and no future. Big men saw her as something of a fresh picking. She had the lithe body and the toned physique, but that could be due to Nord parentage. Fact of it was that to the untrained eye, she was just another lowly girl that in no way possible had the strength of three grown men.

Vera could easily tell Ushak was treated like most of her people around the Empire. Orcs were the most vilified of the races, and the most hated and spurned. No coincidence here they're called Pariah Folk. Vera could relate somewhat. She knows what it means to be hated and persecuted by the world . . . but then again not all Orcs go around the countryside killing livestock and eating pregnant women.

Vera looked at the woman as casually as she did everyone else. Little things these days scared her. There was no way an Orc would. She knew this is how Ushak felt about her, too. Orcs fear little.

When she mentioned a minotaur, Vera shrugged. "You'll find them in warmer places. They don't tend to stick north, as you know." Vera guessed as much since she mentioned Skyrim. "During Midyear and Sun's Height they'll roam in plenty, usually twenty or more around the Great Forest and in the hills further east down the countryside."

"Right now," Vera said by digging a fork into her food like a shovel. "I'd wager they're in the caverns. With any luck, you'll find them asleep and laying low during winter. You'd fare better during mating season. It drains the males. Makes em' tired and easier to strike down. The rogues that lost the mating challenges are even easier. There's a better time for open season. You've come to Cyrodiil at the wrong time."

Vera justified her knowledge, not revealing that she knew things from her own experience. She thought it better to keep the appearance of a blond-haired peasant woman rather than anything else. The people in the tavern already knew different. "My grandfather told me all about them when I was lass. I know what I know from what he told me."

The woman took a swig of her mead that Vera could smell a mile away, and made a comment about the drink. Vera had a comment of her own, though it was more of a teasing jibe. "I thought horse-meat for Orcs was sufficient. Didn't think horse piss would be an addition."







--------------------
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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Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 12 2014, 04:52 PM
Post #845


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Joined: 15-November 12
From: Texas



Ushak nearly choked on her mead, sending small droplets down the front of her steel armor. She coughed twice, then laughed. She reached over and patted Luka's shoulders twice, finding the woman more sturdy than she looked.

"You are funny!" She turned back to the bar once her ears picked up the sound of a plate being slid in front of her. She eagerly picked up the utensils and sliced her boar up, then dipped her rolls in her mashed potatoes and washed it down with mead. She let out a groan of satisfaction.

"Definitely better than horse meat," she said, making a jest of her own.


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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 13 2014, 04:38 AM
Post #846


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Joined: 10-June 11
From: Coldharbour



Vera didn't squirm away when the Orc woman patted her back, but she felt the Orc's apparent strength when she was touched. Imagine what a hand like that can do to someone's face . . .

The huntress didn't need to look around the room to know Ushak had a few stares from the Goblet's more Orc-weary patrons. But Ushak probably did not care. She didn't strike Vera as a person who would worry what others thought about her. Perhaps she was bold, brash and had a no-nonsense attitude.

Vera was good at reading people. She's been wrong before, and off the mark on some of her first impressions but most of the time she was accurate.

She had a reply to Ushak's words. Anything is better than horse meat, or You wouldn't believe half the things I've eaten before. But she kept to herself. She couldn't even smile, even when she tried forcing it.

Lycus was on her mind even when she wanted him out of it for now. Talking to someone could distract her long enough for her to keep herself calm. She was clearly older than Ushak, but she did not appear she aged too much.

Vera could boast her young face, lengthy hair, lithe build and that youthful vitality and tremendous strength her condition has granted her, but there were things that gave things away; her eyes and at times, her speech.

It is said that the eyes are the window to one's soul, and Vera's soul was place no would one wish to visit lest they had the patience and the mind to do it. Being in stasis as centuries passed can change one's mind quite a bit. She's blessed to even be alive all this time.

Vera ate her fill, and at the same time made some conversation with the Orc. She set her elbows on the table as she chewed. "What lured you here from the north? I'm certain you didn't come here to Cyrodiil just because of bull-headed men."

She resisted the urge to give Ushak's weapon an inspection.





--------------------
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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Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 13 2014, 01:32 PM
Post #847


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Joined: 15-November 12
From: Texas



"What lured you here from the North?" Was Luka's next question. Ushak had heard the question only a handful of times before, and it was usually laced with suspicion, as if ah was going to sack the village and et all of the livestock. Seeing other Orc once she was out of the secluded walls of the college have her some perspective. They were brazen, dumb, and uncultured except in their own ways. Ushak understood the fear. She had felt the same apprehension when she had met Orc in a stronghold. She had not, of course, let her feelings show.

There was no apprehension in Luka's voice, however, nor genuine curiosity. Ushak recognized the signs of someone wanting to pass the time with conversation.

She was bored. Ushak couldn't fault her for that.

Rather than give Luka the lengthy story, she cut it down.

"Father is a scholar, like I said. Once I turned eighteen, he told me I had three days to prepare to leave the College to find my own place in history. He said, 'Ushak, Orcs don't live as long as other mer, but don't come back until you have a book written on your adventures.' So I made my way here. By the way, the troll meat here is better than the ones in Skyrim." She suddenly laughed. "Ushak Eats-Anything, they called me in one village. Those plump little Imperials don't know what hunger is until they've had nothing but snow for two solid weeks."



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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 13 2014, 06:09 PM
Post #848


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From: Coldharbour



Vera was all ears to Ushak and for many reasons she wasn't surprised on how the woman turned out. Ushak is a traveler as she came to know, sent away from her home by her own father to make a name in history and have her own story put to paper. It was true, what her father said. Orcs don't live as long as other men. They're like elven nords; they'd rather die at the end of a sword or at the tip of a spear than of old age.

There is glory in a violent death, Vera murmured inwardly. Dying in peace is not a bad idea, though.

Vera didn't see any bitterness coming from Ushak when she told her tale. She was willing to bet the enjoyed the idea of leaving home to become a traveler. The lure of the outside world is strong and irresistible in most cases. There's a sense of mystery of Tamriel that every young lad or lass would be tempted in finding out whether through books or experiencing it for themselves. The Breton Darnand had the spirit of a book-worm and part adventurer. He knew the best the both could offer. And the worst.

Vera wasn't well-versed in vast knowledge but she has flipped a few pages in her grandfather's library. Most books of his though related to a single topic.

"Eats-Anything," Vera said softly. "You know - -"

She halted her words. Ears perked up, listening. She didn't sniff the air but the smell of blood was there. It wasn't the meat in the kitchens nor was it someone stubbing their foot. Human blood.

She heard noises coming from outside the Goblet. Screaming. It wasn't long before everyone else heard it too as they all turned to the front entrance.

The door to the front of the Goblet burst open, and in came two of the tavern's patrons. Lowren and Tooth-in-the-grass helped an older middle-aged man inside.

The older man had the white of snow that did little to contrast his white hair and beard. His brown peasant cloak was thick with snow. He had blue eyes, and from the distance that she was she could see he was missing a few teeth.

The man was breathing hard, and he had an injury on his forehead that looked like someone bashed his skull in. Others came in to help him and ask questions, and the Imperial officer ran to the scene. She was the first to separate everyone to give the man space, while overwhelming him with questions.

"What's happened? Who did this?"

Vera saw his wound had broken pieces of wood. Either he accidentally collided with a tree or a log while running or someone hit him.

"My wife," he wheezed, coughing from the cold and fatigue. "My wife."

"Your wife did this?"

"My wife is dead!"

Vera turned completely to face the scene. There were small gasps and murmurs, and everything froze at the man's presence and his words. "Our livestock was klled just two miles from her, near southwest of Chorrol. A manbeast ran through. Killed me sheep. Killed my cattle and it killed it . . ."

The old man's blue ice-cold lips trembled and he began to weep. "It killed my wife. I saw it bring her down. I got on my horse and left while I could."

Vera lunged from her feet and joined the others, leaving Ushak and her own plate behind her. She rushed behind a line of folks gathering over the old man.

"You saw it? How big was it?"

"Three hands taller than an Orc. It was grey. I know a wolf when I see one and it wasn't no wolf. It was a hybrid."

Vera already began to retreat from the group. She made one step back to leave to her quarters. In her mind, she was already in her room, packing Lycus' extra clothed, fitting herself in her armor and going in after him. The other half of the pack couldn't be left behind alone when potential hunters would be gathering tonight.

There hasn't been a werewolf attack in this area for years. Not since her and Lycus' time, as far as she knew.

One person is dead and Hircine knows how many would die tonight outside or if a mob forms. One thing is for certain. He's in danger. It isn't the full moon but he could be in that form as long as the beast controls him.

Should morning come and he's found naked, shivering in the ice everyone would know who he is and everyone would know who she is by association. Abiene would probably confess to knowing the secret, and her allies should they come back, would reveal her and her husband's identities due to the death of a woman and a man's livelihood.

That cannot happen.

Vera understood the man's pain and grief. But she'd rather not grieve when Lycus is dead.


--------------------
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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Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 15 2014, 08:47 PM
Post #849


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Joined: 15-November 12
From: Texas



Ushak turned when the man came in, and though she didn't immediately get up, she could hear what the man said.

"Werewolf," she murmured to no one in particular. She had heard of were-panthers and were-boars, even were-foxes in Cyrodiil, but a wolf was a rare thing to come across. She saw Luka begin to retreat from the crowd, and she stood up and gripped the woman's elbow.

"Wolf." The word was blunt. "The best thing to do is stay indoors. Only one creature is three hands taller than an orc and looks like man and beast put together. It's a werewolf, and inside is the safest place to be, besides inside the city walls."

She had seen werewolves before. Oh yes, and were it not for the Silver Hand taking the beast down, she would be dead, instead of it. She lightly touched the hilt of her mace with her left hand, just to feel the familiar steel. She let go of the woman.

"Stay inside, do you hear me?" She said loudly. "Panicking will only cause death, understand? Anyone who can hold their bowels in a fight, you'll need silver weapons, or an enchanted weapon."

She realized her bath would have to wait.

What's a bit more blood? she thought. "Who joins me?" She didn't expct anyone to stand up right then.


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Darkness Eternal
post Apr 17 2014, 03:14 PM
Post #850


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Vera felt the hard grip on her elbow and turned accordingly. Ushak went over the dire situation that Vera already knew ever since the man entered the Goblet. The sense of urgency in the Orc's voice spoke of the danger lurking outside and what had to be done. The huntress nodded to Ushak but uttered not a word. Her expression translated: I prefer the safety of indoors.

The Orc turned to the assembly of people after telling her not to panic and remain indoors. She shouted at the entire Goblet, riling up the folks brave(or perhaps stupid) enough to go after the beast, that silver weapons or magick-ridden ones would be effective in killing it.

With the question raised on who would join her on the hunt, Vera lowered her head and hunched her shoulders, and silently slipped out of the Goblet. Many men and women, some of which were armed to the teeth, walked past Vera while some even bumped into her to speak to Ushak.

The Goblet had patrons who remained silent. But after an anonymous male voice shouted "I", a handful of others began to volunteer to participate like sheep.

I've just about had enough with this. Vera murmured. If I hear about more werewolves after this . . .

The lithe, unremarkable peasant-looking woman climbed the steps that led to the second floor, leaving the voices and clamor behind her. She'll have to get outside before everyone else does. She was confident in her abilities as a tracker and she didn't lose faith in her husband's deadly prowess. But neither did she underestimate the mob's fortitude. Even a beast such as a werewolf can be overwhelmed, and as Lycus once told her, even legends can die.

Vera couldn't fathom the thought of his head on a pike, or decorating the wall of some pompous self-righteous hunter as a latest trophy. But she tried to picture it. Lycus' true and terrifying form roaring forever as a stuffed statue, as some oddity for men, women and children to gawk at while the man who brought down the beast boasts his self-absorbed inflated tales of victory.

The thought was repulsive, and it only made Vera hurry up the steps and into the privacy of her own room. She went straight to the dresser. It was just as big as she needed it to be.

She pulled out Lycus' dirty clothes.

The black leather tunic was faded and cracked on the edges with white salt rings of old sweat stained the armpits, rawhide laces stretched and stiff. She put it on the side of the bed, right by the soft black pants that were blanketed with slices and tears crudely sewn; the coarse brown thread was like old bloodstains on the leather. On the floor she set the pair of strong black boots that was made for Lycus' foot.

Vera prepared her own clothes, too. She stood before the full-length mirror inside the inn's room, naked from head to toe. The flat muscles of below her breasts, the curvy ridges of her abdomen, the met cords of her thighs and arms, all were put out like they'd been finely cut into stone. She turned slightly and narrowed her golden eyes, looking at that thickening just below her waist with critical distaste. Maybe this was an inevitable consequence of time passing by or maybe she'd been slacking with all that damn food she's been eating. Only the faintest pinch of vanity painted her disdain; nearly all of it was caused by the in-your-face- knowledge that five or six extra pounds could slow her down fatally at the critical moments between certain victory and death, especially with the amount of clothing she's taking with her.

She was fast, but she could be much faster.

And with speed, she began to put on Lycus' clothes. First the leather tunic followed by the shredded pants he never bothered himself in discarding. She raided the dresser, and added yet another layer of clothing to cover herself. This would put some weight on her, alright. Not counting the snow.

Any average person would find it considerably difficult to navigate the snowy terrain in such a get-up. But given her blessing, she wasn't exactly what most called average.

Vera put on her gloves, and prepared her bow and her arrows. She didn't bring her silver arrows this time.

She wouldn't need to use it against him. Lycus never harmed her in his true form while she was temporarily trapped in her human shell, neither did she harm him when she was in her bestial form. As members of the same, two-individual pack, they knew one another more than brothers and sisters and far more intimately than lovers. It was a special bond between shared blood and damn anyone who would go about their way to harm him.

Damn myself, I suppose, Vera thought. If he survives this, I'll probably just end up killing him myself for causing this trouble to begin with.

Vera, already armed to the bone, rushed out the window of her room and out in the open. She landed with a hard thud and her feet sunk to the snow. It wouldn't leave a trace for long, not with the amount of snow that was beginning to pour through.

Without looking back, Vera ventured forth into the wilderness to look for the beast knowing full well the mob would be right on her heels.


--------------------
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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Elisabeth Hollow
post Apr 18 2014, 07:27 PM
Post #851


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From: Texas



Ushak left and went back to Skyrim.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Apr 26 2014, 02:22 AM


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Acadian
post Apr 26 2014, 03:00 AM
Post #852


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From: Las Vegas



Closed per request.


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