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> To Heir is Human III, Playground 1
jack cloudy
post Apr 26 2008, 09:37 PM
Post #1


Master
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Joined: 11-February 06
From: In a cold place.



Flint Ironwood, Bruma

It was a normal day at the Bruma Siege Division. Brids whistling in the trees on each side of the field, a crisp breeze and above all, creaking wood and earshattering explosion.
“Alright, water!” Flint Ironwood ordered, almost sounding bored. He had come to expect this result and he realized that was a bad thing. He shook his head as he watched the burning wreck of their latest mishap.

“Flogir isn’t going to like this.” He muttered to himself while the siegecrew formed a line and began to throw buckets of water on the fire. The aging Breton waited till the fire had been smothered before he dared approach the siege engine. From afar, he hadn’t been able to see just what went wrong. One moment, they pulled the rope that triggered the catapult, the next the whole thing exploded.
“At least no one has been injured this time. Looks like all the precautions are working. I still wished we could get this to work though.”

Up close, he failed to see anything that could provide a clue towards the cause of the latest disaster.
“Perhaps we just tried a bad canister. Not enough sand, perhaps? Or maybe the bolts let go too soon. Well geez, it could be anything really.” Flint wondered. He picked up a shard of glass from the ground but quickly released it again. He scowled and licked his burned fingers.
“Crap it all. Will this never work?”



Sorian, Colovian Highlands

“Your money or your life!” The Imperial bandit yelled at the Redguard and jumped onto the middle of the route. At the same time, his partner jumped on the road behind the Redguard . They both eyed their victim warily. They knew the reputation of Redguards, how they’d elevated swordplay to a central part of their culture. A Redguard on the battlefield was one of the worst opponents one could face.

But this Redguard was young, inexperienced. Even culture couldn’t substitute years of battle. They believed they could take the Redguard, yet they remained wary.
“I said your money or your life, boy!” The Imperial repeated. The Redguard gave him an angry glare in return.
“Tell me, have you been preying on travellers for a long time?” He asked demandingly. The Imperial saw this as his chance to intimidate the young Redguard.
“For years I’ve been the plague of these lands! Even the legion is fears me so much they don’t dare send any patrols after me! It would be smart for you to give up your money and walk away unharmed.”

The Redguard however, was not intimidated. He drew a curved blade with his right hand in a flourish and aimed it directly at the bandit’s heart. At the same time, he used his other hand to release the straps on his backpack which fell to the ground.
“My name is Sorian! Sorian the Ansei! If you are the plague, then I shall be your cure! Drop your sword and walk away from the path of crime! Repent, or face the souls of your victims in Oblivion!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The Imperial’s partner took the opportunity to attack the obviously distracted Redguard from behind. He raised his axe high above his head and prepared to send it into Sorian’s skull.

Two whispers shot through the sky and both bandits dropped dead, leaving the Redguard standing in dumbfounded confusion.
“What is going on?” He thought. He then saw the feathered shafts of two bolts sticking out of the Imperial’s skull. Instantly, he looked from side to side, sword still held in front of him.
“who’s there?! Show yourself!” He yelled.

Behind a bush just off the road, Vasha shook her head.
“Foolish young man. If he doesn’t learn to watch his back, he’ll get killed.” She said to herself.
“Nevertheless, we’ve dealt with the bandits that have been such a hassle since last week. There is no need for us to remain and get involved with him any further.” She tapped a ring she wore on her hand which began to glow in a deep green.
“One…two…three.” Simultaneously, five pillars of black smoke erupted from behind various bushes.

Sorian saw the smoke and ran to the nearest bush.
“Who are you?!” He asked, but no one was there.




OOC: Revan, just for your information. The ring Vasha used is something I've decided on as a communication device. Varying on the number of taps, it displays different colours. In this case, green meant 'retreat'. The rings are connected. If one glows, all the other ones will glow in the same colour. Vasha probably has multiple ones. One is connected to the ones her team wears, the other to perhaps other teams or the Narza'Tai main command? Colour codes should change regularly, just in case.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 26 2008, 10:05 PM


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minque
post Apr 26 2008, 10:36 PM
Post #2


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Joined: 11-February 05
From: Where I can watch you!!



Satyana, Chorrol

The morning sun was bright, Satyana sat on the stairs in front of her house, sipping a cup of tea.

I must tell him today....gah, I wonder what he'll say, this isn't the best of times, but still, it happened and I'm happy about it... Please let him be happy as well

She sighed and put the cup down. It was high time to feed the horses, they were alreade awake and hungry. Satyana went to the small stable and gave the two horses their breakfast. She was happy, yet worried, her life had turned out alright, she was married to Issac, they had managed to buy this small farm where they could grow herbs and plants, and even keep a couple of horses. She loved the horses, they were so sweet.

The nausea caught her as she was gathering the hay....she stood still, sweat was running down her back and she struggled not to vomit. No success....she emptied her already empty stomach just outside the stables. Wiping the tears from her cheeks she looked around to see if Issac had noticed.

Her blouse was sticking to her back, her breasts were sore, she felt really sick, but there was a very good reason for that and she couldn't help smiling....

She pulled her damp hair back and headed for the house....to wake her beloved one up..now was the time to tell him....

"Issac, darling, wake up....there's something I must tell you" Satyana gently kissed him on his forehead...


Oh I love you Issac, you'll never imagine how much I love you....


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Chomh fada agus a bhionn daoine ah creiduint in aif�iseach, leanfaidh said na n-aingniomhi a choireamh (Voltaire)

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Lord Revan
post Apr 26 2008, 11:34 PM
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Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA



OCC: I'll let someone else post before starting Issac.

Ian, Anvil

The port of Anvil had been left untouched by the war, making it the only functional port in Cyrodiil.

This fact was why the population had recently boomed. More peers had been contructed and the monoploy of trade would not change anytime soon.
Amidst the almost constant trickle of people going into and out of the castle was a single man who hadn't moved for hours.

More than one person stopped and stared; exchanged hushed whispers. Some knew who this man was, the blood red robes and tell-tale wrist daggers gave away the agent's identity.

Ian, the man who slew the King of Worms, didn't take notice of the commoners and dignitaries who gazed at him in wonder.
His reddened eyes watched the rising sun on the horizon. He reflected on the inconvienance of his fame, then on the facts that the rumors didn't mention.

His vampirism was one such fact, to most his status was an exceptional warrior who could cheat the master of death. Kirana found his annoyance amusing to no end.

The vampire finally moved as a black horse courior approached. Ian snatched a packet of the papers and glanced over them.
His face was impassive as he noted even more reports of respectable citizens disappearing without a trace, but his face filled with disdain as the killings were pinned on elements of Narza'Tai radicals. *Anyone with a proper mind would realize these people weren't the type the Narza'tai would target: they were opposed the sudden shift to democrasy, traditionalists, the people that sympathized for the Narza'Tai's cause of perserving the old ways.

-------
Pell's Gate

Two legionnaires shook their heads at the sight. Several rotting corpses were hung from a line running between two small houses.

One ineffectively tried to swat at an annoying fly buzzing around his helmet. "This was the Narza'Tai." He muttered dryly.

"That's what we'll say, but those honored users don't go murdering villages, hanging dead bodies, but not killing these scum." The other said studying the corpse that still resembled a woman.

"At least whoever did it didn't take anything, mark my words this haul will merit a promotion!" The first commented, approaching the villages meeting house.

There was a muffled sound, and the second legionnaire spun around. The door was wide open, but the interior was dark.
"Hey, Septimus! You find something?" A moment passed and he unsheathed his longsword.

The legionnaire cautiously approached the meeting house. He took two steps into the building and spotted Septimus' boot.
He looked up and spotted something else. It was a helmet, whatever was wearing it inched closer.

The head was attached to a long snake-like neck. He heard the creature growl, a long, rumbming warning tone.
"God's BLOOD!" The soldier took a spinning step to escape before the creature grabbed his boot and pulled him off his feet.

The dazed legionnaire swung his sword wildly, but it did nothing to save him.....
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Dantrag
post Apr 27 2008, 07:06 AM
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Councilor
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From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz



OOC: I'll let someone else post before starting Veric/Altair.

Rann, One Year Ago

Rann stepped into Altair's tent. It was dusk and Altair was waiting for him with a tabletop covered in various scrolls and tomes, one of them having been left behind by Kirana. They had been meeting nearly every night soon after the Silhouette was banished to study the origins of Rann's strange birthmark, and they were actually gaining knowledge. Sort of.

"So what's new?" Rann asked, sitting in the seat across from Altair.

"Well," Altair replied, turning to a marked page in Kirana's tome, "You come from a long lineage of powerful mages."

Rann snickered, "That explains all of my natural spellcasting talents."

"You didn't let me finish," Altair said flatly before continuing, "Your ancestors were a powerful dunmer family in Morrowind; well-known members of House Telvanni. Unfortunately, one of them angered House Indoril when he killed a number of priests. I couldn't figure out all the details, but I did find out that he was imprisoned and somehow stripped permanently of all magical ability. He still knew how to cast spells, but he just couldn't tap into his magicka."

"After he was freed, though," Altair kept on, "House Telvanni still mourned his loss and rewarded him for his years of loyal service. They sent him to see a high elf wizard in the Summerset Isles, who crafted the magicka-absorbing tattoo for him. Both House Indoril's curse and this altmer's gift are hereditary. I'll let you know when I find out who exactly this wizard was, and if he's even alive."

Rann, Present

Rann took in the area around him, basking in the very idea of returning home. He urged his horse to go faster as the Imperial City came in sight. Repairs seemed to be going well, as much progress had been made in the Reconstruction since he had last been there. The new White Gold Tower was not yet complete, but it seemed to be standing just as proudly as the original, despite its lack of height.

It had only been two days since he'd landed back in Cyrodiil. After a year of traveling and living in Summerset Isle, Rann finally decided to take the ship back to Anvil.

He crossed the stone bridge as he approached and left his horse at the stable. Walking into the Talos Plaza District with a pack slung over his shoulder, Rann could tell that much was getting better. Business seemed to be booming again in the city, and besides the unfinished tower looming on the horizon, Rann could see little sign of the battle that occurred that long year ago.

Rann wondered if he would happen upon anyone he knew besides Altair, who he was coming specifically to see. It had been so long since he'd heard anything from the people he knew in Cyrodiil that he honestly had no idea of what he should expect.

This post has been edited by Dantrag: Apr 27 2008, 07:08 AM


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The Metal Mallet
post Apr 27 2008, 07:31 AM
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From: Kitchener, ON, Canada



Flogir, the Imperial City

A knock at his office door caught Flogir's attention.

"Enter," his warm, yet time-worn voice called.

A solider entered, baring the golden crest of the Home Guard. The soldier snapped a salute to the General of the Home Guard. Flogir nearly smiled at the seriousness the man was showing but he remembered that a soldier was supposed to act like this in front of their superior. Flogir returned the salute.

"What do you need, Captain Merigold?" he asked.

"Well sir..." Merigold began but hesitated.

"Spit it out Merigold, I don't have time to waste," Flogir stated briskly, indicating a healthy stack of paperwork that needed to be looked over.

Merigold blanched. "Sorry sir, it's just that there was an incident at 'The Watering Hole' involving some off-duty Home Guard and some Legion-."

"By the Nine!" Flogir cursed and slammed his fist on his desk, rattling the various items upon it. "Did I not inform the men that they should not drink where the Legionnaires usually do?"

Merigold gulped audibly. "It seems that that order has not reached all the men yet. I'll make sure that it does after this though."

"That you should, Captain," Flogir growled darkly. He looked up to the Captain once again, some of the heat from his eyes had dissapated. "Where are they now?"

"They are currently incarcerated for assaulting members of the Imperial Legion. Our men claim they were goaded into fighting, sir," Merigold explained.

"Of course they were," Flogir grumbled and began shifting a few papers. "I'll have to speak to that leech, Agrippa after the meeting today and see if he can let this slide. Do you command these men Merigold?"

"No sir, Sergeant Mallory does, sir," Merigold replied.

"Be sure to inform Mallory that these men get assigned to something unpleasant for the next two weeks."

"It shall be done, sir."

"Dismissed, Merigold," Flogir said, waving him off.

Merigold snapped another salute, turned on heel and left the office. Flogir scratched at his beard as he thought about having to talk to Agrippa. The man has been a thorn in his side since Altair hired him to lead the Legions. Other than Altair and possibly few other members of the council, Agrippa basically tired to make himself appear superior to all those he dealt with. Whenever Flogir spoke with Agrippa it seems as if Agrippa was talking to him as if he were a child. It didn't rub Flogir the right way.

Flogir smacked the desk once again and cursed.


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I am currently a Writer in The Order of Schola.
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"This body, holding me makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion" - Parabola (Tool)
"This here ain't called boasting, it's called truthin' " - Mango Kid (Danko Jones)
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jack cloudy
post Apr 27 2008, 02:10 PM
Post #6


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Joined: 11-February 06
From: In a cold place.



Flint Ironwood, his office in Bruma

Flint muttered darkly to himself. If he looked out of the window, he could still see the lingering smoke coming from the field. Shaking his head, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write.

Flogir,

Today's test on concept D was another failure. The prototype exploded when the mechanism was triggered. We know what happened. The spheres were released too soon and shattered, allowing the payload to mix with the air. The results speak for themselves. But why the spheres were released too soon, we don't know. I swear we triple-checked every single nut and bolt, and still the damn thing blows up. The theory is sound and the bleuprints have been worked out till the finest details, and still the damn thing blows up. It's driving me nuts, to be honest.

In other news, I'm going to freeze concept B, the long-range ballista, for now. We had a meeting on it and agreed that it just isn't possible with the current budget. Only a bow made from Dwemer steel can withstand the strain put on it. Naturally, that stuff is hard to get by and even harder to work with. Speaking of which, Odrik is planning to dispatch some unofficial ambassadors to Morrowind. Now that we've dropped the project, he wants to import some Dwemer originals in the cheapest way possible. Who knows, we might just learn something from those relics. We'll need permission for that, though. All Dwemer artefacts are property of the Empire.

In three days, we should have rebuilt concept D. From now one, we're going to fill the glass spheres with water instead of the explosive liquid. Odrik complained that the mass would be different but I don't care. If anything goes wrong this time, at least we won't put the whole thing on fire. It is too expensive to rebuilt a siege engine every single time. Besides, it will be easier to find the fault in the design when the trebuchet is still intact.

Anyway, I hope everything is going fine down there in Cyrodiil. Say hi to everyone for me.

Flint Ironwood.


Flint folded the letter and passed it on to a waiting servant.
"Direct it to the Home Guard in Cyrodiil by pidgeon." He said before turning towards the window. The smoke had vanished.


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Lord Revan
post Apr 27 2008, 02:44 PM
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From: Texas, USA



Issac, homestead near Chorrol

The Altmer stretched and blinked sleepily. He focused on Satyana after a few moments. "Satyana, I'd rather get dressed first, can we talk during breakfast?" He asked, carresing her cheek softly.

--------

Imperial City

A black horse courior stood before a gathering of people. "New edition: Small Village Massacres, don't be the next victim!"

Black Horse Courior: Small Village Massacres

Two weeks ago a merchant caravan arrived at their destination. They expected a normal welcome, but found a morbid one instead.
Five days later a legion patrol discovered another lifeless village. Corpses of men and women hanging from wires between their homes to rot, bite wounds unlike anything known to civilized man, and absolutely nothing valuable having been looted!

A legion patrol was sent to Pell's Gate, across Lake Rumare from the Imperial City, as it was believed to be the next target. The legionnaires suffered the same terrible fate as countless innocents at the claws of this abomonation.

Many argue that these were not Narza'Tai attacks, citing the lack of looting, bite wounds, and the location of these attacks compared to Narza'Tai territory.
It is also believed it is one creature responsible, we'll keep you up to date as this unfolds
.

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Apr 28 2008, 01:06 PM
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Olen
post Apr 27 2008, 08:02 PM
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Mouth
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From: most places



Indor, his waterfront hut

The knocking was insistent, Indor could see a large nord though his shattered window. He sighed and readjusted his bandages before he went to the door, hoping the bailiff was having a good day. “What do you want?” he asked.

“The rent.”

Indor eyed the nord warily and moved to hide the inside of his hut, “I don’t have it.”

“That won’t do. You already owe for last month, and your window is broken, that’s another forty septims.”

“I’ll have it soon-“

“You said that last time.”

“I was robbed. Next week I can pay you,” the nord looked doubtful, “Give me a week. Look take this,” Indor gave him a bottle, “It will make you very strong, for a bit. It’s for you, just give me another week.”

The nord took the bottle and nodded, “If you don’t have-“

“I will.” Indor assured him.

As the bailiff walked away Indor sighed in relief, he’d noticed the window but at least he hadn’t seen inside. Indor rubbed at his hand but the fresh burns only itched more. He hadn’t expected the Ayleid stone to rupture like that. There had been a lot of power and how it worked fascinated him. It was defiantly worthy of more research. If only he had the means. He shook his head and looked across the lake; in the distance he saw the spires of the Ayleid city. How naive he’d been to go there: he’d got out alive but not with his money. The bandits had left him with nothing but the clothes on his back. Still they had made their offer: five hundred septims to investigate it in safety, and to keep any artefacts he found.

The opportunity was there but useless to him, he hadn’t got enough money to pay the rent for a hut on the waterfront: how would he raise that much? But without it his research was finished. His accident with the stone had only increased his interest, and destroyed some of his furniture.

Maybe someone would be interested, maybe interested enough to help. If he had a sponsor, it was clutching at straws but perhaps. He went back into the shack and packed a bag with the remnants of the gem, his notes and some potions. If it came to the worst at least he could sell enough potions to keep up with the interest payments. He drank half a potion to give him a bit more energy then headed towards the main part of the Imperial City.

This post has been edited by Olen: Apr 27 2008, 08:03 PM


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Look behind you and see an ever decreasing number of ghosts. Currently about 15.
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Florodine of Hlaalu
post Apr 27 2008, 08:56 PM
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Knower
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Dalrus Varus, Arcane University


"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it is often better to use some of your energy on wards instead of depending completely on enchantments. I will see you tomorrow, remember to bring a plain gold necklace and I expect your papers on fighting trolls to be on my desk, before I start my lecture." She smiled at a middle-aged man named Michael. She had never thought about it, but it must have been weird for someone who was 21 to be teaching a class of people of whom only one was within 5 years of her ages. The rest were all older.

Dalrus left the podium and smiled at the apprentices as they walked by. She quickly walked up to her tower and was bombarded by a wall of noise. Tons of mages from all over the empire were in the main lobby, either making appointments to see her or to deliver things to the various heads of the Arcane Universities buildings. She had already improved the university greatly. The buildings were no longer gray but seemed to be covered in enchantments. The stone was white marble, much more noticeable than the great stone of the city. The ground seemed to be covered in a fog and plants of every type lined the walkways. Every building had secrets, every one of them a mystery.

"Madam Dalrus please..."
"Miss Varus, might I have a word?..."
"Archmage, I have something of great importance..."
"Ahh there you are, the person I have been dying to talk to..."

Dalrus smiled politely but walked on with an heir of purpose. She went over to the portal, dodging a particularly boisterous mage who seemed to think Dalrus and her were on a first name basis. Soon she glowed purple and she felt the strange sensation that the she was having warm water poured over her. She arrived in the Mage Council room and there she met some of the Undermages from the provinces. These were the archmages who lead a province but answered to her.

"I am sorry Llevn but I really must go... I am meeting a good friend of mine who I have not seen in a year..." she said to the Morrowind Archmage who seemed intent to tell her for the fourteenth time that house Telvanni was giving them trouble again.

I hope Rann's meeting with Altair is not too long she thought as she went into the portal that her and Altair had made straight to the Green Emperor Way.



General Agrippa, Imperial Legion base/Prison

This "Home Guard," legion was really starting to get Agrippa angry. Two of Agrippa's own prized legionaires had been acosted by some of the Home Guard at "the Watering Hole," and Agrippa felt a personally insulted by this because he had just gotten done with an interview for the Black Horse Courier. In the interview Agrippa had lied his way through many questions about his and Flogir's relationship, in which he stated "Me and Flogir are like a team who's main goal is to perserve the great people of the empire!" Well it would certainly be the last time he said that, unless of course someone more important was listening.

Agrippa loved his new post, other than members of the council, he was the highest ranked person in Cyrodiil, and if that Dalrus woman was not on the council, he suspected he would have nearly as much space to control his legions as he had during the crisis with Oblivion. Unfortunately she loathed him and unlike Flogir, she was not very polite to him.

Agrippa looked into the mirror as an attractive Breten woman polished his Imperial Dragon boots. Well well well, who is that fierce war general? he teased himself. His smug grin came to a short halt when he realized he was late for his meeting with his general of patrol. He quickly slapped away the breten woman's hand as she made to polish his breast plate and without a word went upstairs.
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Fuzzy Knight
post Apr 27 2008, 10:10 PM
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Savras
Highlands north of Chorrol


Savras brought his horse to a halt as he approached the edge of the mountains. In the distant he could make out the Colovian Highlands, a hilly forested region just north of Chorrol which meant he had been following the right trail in the northern mountains.
He pulled his hair back and watched the landscape as it had been quite a while since he lasted visited this part of Tamriel. He had devoted two years perfecting his swordsmanship with the Redguards, even when he heard of the war that was raging here. In the he had received his current sword as a gift from those whom he had trained with. He had trained with a similar sword but this one was like no other he had ever wielded. It was shorter than an ordinary longsword and lighter, but the curved blade could still deliver a power matching that of a claymore with the swiftness of a dagger.

Knowing he should try to reach Chorrol before sundown Savras continued south heading through the highlands.
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The Metal Mallet
post Apr 27 2008, 10:19 PM
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From: Kitchener, ON, Canada



Amrita, North of Anvil

A warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree Amrita was perched in, bringing the salty taste of the sea with it. She ignored it for the most part, her attention focused on listening to the sounds of the countryside. She knew what she was waiting for but the sound of horses had yet to be heard. It didn't matter, she had tracked their journey twice over the last few days and both instances had passed this point. They would arrive.

Almost on cue, the distant thunder of hoofs reached Amrita's pointed ears. A sly grin broke across her face as she gazed down below her. There awaiting her was a pack of wolves she had managed to capture with a Command Creature spell. To make sure that they would get the job done, she also had placed an Enhanced Strength spell upon them. It was time for an unfortunate accident.

Through the foliage of trees, Amrita could just make out Millona Umbranox and her two bodyguards riding towards her. The Countess of Anvil had been one of the leading patrons opposed to the new diplomatic leadership of Cyrodil. Veric had instructed her that it was about time to put a serious quell to this annoyance. Before this, Amrita had only taken out small, local annoyances near the Imperial City. That was a month and a half ago. Surely after this was done, no connection would be made. This was just a tragic accident afterall.

The Countess was close enough now. With a simple command of will, the pack of wolves rushed towards the three riders, snarling with vicious intent. Instantly teeth rendered flesh, cries of pain issued forth, and life was extinguished. All the while a black robed and slender woman looked on impassively as the deed was done.

Happy with the result, she released the spells she had on the wolves. Within her robes she clutched a yellow amulet and felt a swirl of magic wash across her. "It is done." Was all she needed to state before releasing the amulet. Seamlessly, Amrita merged with the shade of the trees and began her trek to Anvil. She wouldn't mind a carriage to whatever destination Veric wanted her next.





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I am currently a Writer in The Order of Schola.
Official Fan Fiction Forum "Commentasaurus"

"This body, holding me makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion" - Parabola (Tool)
"This here ain't called boasting, it's called truthin' " - Mango Kid (Danko Jones)
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Lord Revan
post Apr 28 2008, 12:07 AM
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Ian, Anvil

The vampire stood on a raft he rented cheaply for a few hours. His hunter's sight penetrated the murky water, giving him an advantage over other the other fishermen out and about.

Ian nocked an arrow and aimed deliberately. The ebony projectile struck true and Ian's raft difted close enough to snatch the bobbing shaft. He dropped the slaughterfish into a net and repeated the procedure several times.

By the time his rent was due, the vampire had filled his net. "Lightning would have worked better." Kirana commented errantly.

I'd rather not overcook the meat, and arrow-fishing is more sporty. Ian replied, taking his net full of fish to the market.

--------

Issac quickly dressed and sat down with Satyana at the table. "So, what is on your mind, 'Tyana?" He sipped a glass of water.

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Apr 28 2008, 01:05 PM
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minque
post Apr 28 2008, 12:55 AM
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Wise Woman
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From: Where I can watch you!!



Satyana, Chorrol homestead

Satyana smiled, she put a mug of hot hackle-lo tea in front of Issac, she knew he liked it very much....

"Issac, my precsious, you.....you are going to be.....a father!"

She blushed and lowered her head.....


Oh by Nirn, let him be happy about it....


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Chomh fada agus a bhionn daoine ah creiduint in aif�iseach, leanfaidh said na n-aingniomhi a choireamh (Voltaire)

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Lord Revan
post Apr 28 2008, 01:32 AM
Post #14


Master
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Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA



Issac

He nearly coughed a mouthful of tea. Issac swallowed finally and set the mug down carefully. Did she just say....?

"A... A father? Are you certain, Satyana?" She didn't have to say yes, suddenly he could tell.

Issac hadn't had firm expectations of how he'd take news like this. The altmer laid back in his seat and mulled this over in his head.

He realized that Satyana was unsure of his reaction. Issac let out a breath. "This is a surprise...." Great, that was stupid.

"Satyana, this is fantastic!" He remembered talking about having a child during the war. Issac got out of his chair and knelt beside his wife.

He took her hand in his and smiled comfortingly. "Ian's going to want to hear about this."
If he knew anything in the world, he knew Ian would want to be here.

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Apr 28 2008, 01:04 PM
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Dantrag
post Apr 28 2008, 03:15 AM
Post #15


Councilor
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Joined: 13-February 05
From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz



Rann/Altair

Rann strode into the Council Chambers after being questioned and having his weapons temporarily confiscated. Altair was sitting alone in the huge room with a seemingly genuine smile plastered on his face.

"Rann! I got the message you sent when you arrived in Anvil. How did you like your stay in the Isles?" Altair asked in greeting.

"It was..interesting," Rann answered, not knowing where to begin telling a year-long story.

"Well, I referred to to Orindion to learn about your heritage. What did you find out?"

"Not much, but I did some research with Orindion and something happened."

"Might I ask what?" Altair asked, though Veric could have easily guessed. Veric wasn't as generous with his information as Altair seemed to be.

"Well, Orindion isn't who we thought he was. He's the son of the Orindion we were looking for, but he still had his father's notes and some knowledge of his work. After a few days of studying, Orindion decided to cast some sort of spell on me to try to figure out what exactly this thing on my arm is. Something strange happened after that. I became...different. For weeks. I don't remember any of it, but Orindion said I was a madman."

"Strange..." Altair said, his voice trailing off.

"But let's speak of magical mysteries a little later," he started again suddenly, "When I received your message, I told Dalrus that you'd be arriving around midday. She should be here any minute now."


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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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Florodine of Hlaalu
post Apr 28 2008, 03:55 AM
Post #16


Knower
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Joined: 5-July 05



Dalrus, Council Chambers

As if by cue, Dalrus arrived as soon as Veric finished his last sentense. A rush of purple magic and Dalrus came into form in the doorway. Her hair was waving wildly from the rush of magic but soon subsided. Her emerald green eyes lit up when they caught sight of Rann.

"RANN!!" she screamed with delight as she ran towards him. She jumped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. She blushed right after doing this, she realized in her excitment that he might not have been interested anymore, not to mention Veric was in the room, and though they were good friends, he was more of a colleague.
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The Metal Mallet
post Apr 28 2008, 04:10 AM
Post #17


Master
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Joined: 18-June 06
From: Kitchener, ON, Canada



Voltar

Leisurely flipping the page of the book, Voltar peered over the information contained within. Since Veric and him had started their "diplomacy", Voltar had gained access to the various texts that remained undamaged after the White Gold Tower was destroyed. Despite being a councilor, Voltar still had plenty of time to do anything he pleased so he decided that investigating the valuable and rare books held within the Tower could prove beneficial. So far, nothing revolutionary had been discovered but Voltar had always been the patient type, knowing that if there was something of worth within these books, he'd eventually find it.

He finished the page he was reading and glanced at the clock located in the room. The Council meeting was scheduled to happen fairly soon. Casually, Voltar marked his place in the book and closed it. Gathering up his robes, he snatched the Staff of Worldly Demise which was perched against the wall and began to make his way to the Council Chambers.

OOC: Voltar will arrive after Altair and Dalrus are done with Rann if you still have anything planned between them.


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I am currently a Writer in The Order of Schola.
Official Fan Fiction Forum "Commentasaurus"

"This body, holding me makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion" - Parabola (Tool)
"This here ain't called boasting, it's called truthin' " - Mango Kid (Danko Jones)
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Dantrag
post Apr 28 2008, 04:26 AM
Post #18


Councilor
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Joined: 13-February 05
From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz



Rann

Before he even realized what was happening, Rann found himself in a tight embrace with Dalrus. Once the initial surprise wore off, though, a smile appeared on his face. It was good to be home.

"I'll be damned," he said, after some space appeared between them, "It's been a long time."

Before anything else could be said, Altair interjected by clearing his throat loudly to remind them of his presence.

"Just to warn you two, this may not be the best place for a reunion; there's a Council meeting here in ten minutes."

Rann heard Altair, but his eyes never once looked away from Dalrus, "After you," he said, gesturing towards the door.


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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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Lord Revan
post Apr 28 2008, 04:33 AM
Post #19


Master
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Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA




Karn, Valenwood

Normally, one would never imagine a Dunmer being in a giant tree, let alone content with the position. But the sensei of the Narza'Tai was beyond caring about inherited comforts and discomforts. Although his face was blank as he looked over the giant forest, he was undeniably triumphant.

The Narza'Tai had proven they had power, but this was a testament to their growing influence. Not hours ago had the Bosmer of this particular region agreed for them to establish several outposts. This was more than territorial rights, it meant the Narza'Tai had enough presence to have sway over entire provinces.
Karn reigned in his triumph, this revelation, however profound, made them no more invincible. But invincibility is only an illusion, we must be smart if we are to stand the test of time.

The sensei watched his followers follow the Bosmers' instructions as to contructing these outposts. They worked silently, no petty complaints, complete focus. To most of Tamriel, they appeared alien, as demonic and intimidating as the Deadra of Oblivion.
Karn approved of this image, but he was one of a few who could see more than the black cloaks and masks. He saw the beauty of immortal grace in mortal form. Since the war's end, the Narza'Tai's foundations became more solid. They were a true brotherhood, and the sensei wanted to see them further transcend the flaws other guilds of mortals had.

There will be no one to replace me, I am temporary, the brotherhood will be the last thing standing when Nirn is reduced to ash. He turned and walked away silently, noting the assassins and Bosmer villagers everywhere.
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Olen
post Apr 28 2008, 11:20 AM
Post #20


Mouth
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Joined: 1-November 07
From: most places



Indor, Imperial City

“A coin for an old veteran sir.”

Indor waved a beggar aside as he wandered though the temple quarter lost in thought. The old man was hobbling away when Indor turned. “Oi, you,” he said wrinkling his nose as the beggar hobbled round; it appeared the old man had contracted helljoint.

“Yes kind sir?”

“I have a question and I dare say you might have an answer,” Indor didn’t wait for a response, “I’m a travelling scholar doing research into certain magical objects. Do you know of anyone in the city who might be interested in such learning?”

“No doubt plenty would be interested but I suspects you wants them to have money too?” the beggar gave him a gummy smile, “You’re not from round here but I can help you. What’s it worth?”

At least he’s direct, thought Indor. “I haven’t any money, but I’ll bet your joints ache in the mornings.”

“Oh, something terrible sir.”

Indor pulled a potion from his bag, “This will cure it.”

The beggar nodded, “Not many have the money for learning now, but there are some mages rich enough. If you speak right they might help you up at the university, or you could try the council. Some of them are mages and all have money, not that they like to give it away,” the beggar scowled slightly, “There’s one other too, been here almost a year but he isn’t often seen. Altmer, old by his looks though I wander… He always wears brown and seems to be studying some sort of magic, ‘fraid that’s all I know of him though I could find out more…”

“Thank you, and I think you’ll find the benefits of this potion more than worth that information too,” Indor passed the beggar the bottle and the man hobbled off.

Indor cringed at the loss of another valuable potion but it couldn’t be helped. For a moment he stood in thought then turned east towards the university. Still a long shot but more likely than the council and the altmer in brown, well that would be a wild goose chase, at least until the beggar was sure the potion was what it claimed to be.

A short while later he was ascending the steps of the Arcane University, mages bustled here and there along with other people. He felt an edge of envy that they could command magic. Magic he studied but was entirely unable to perform. A mage stopped him in the entrance room, “Only member are allowed past here,” she said before haughtily brushing onwards.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to start conversation with another couple of mages before giving up and sitting on a bench by the wall. Eventually someone would notice him.


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Look behind you and see an ever decreasing number of ghosts. Currently about 15.
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