The Ghostfence rp: Playground 1 Options

[Colonel Mustard]

Erna Rahnis

"What the hell is going on now?" Erna muttered as the caravan suddenly ground to a halt. He didn't want delays. Delays made problems, and when Erna had a problem he was upset.

And it was never good to be around Erna when he was upset.

He wandered idly over to another member of the caravan, his guar following him obediently. Erna had already shown it the penalty for disobedience.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Bunch of Kagouti in the way apparently," the dunmer replied. "Armigers'll probably deal with the damn things."

"I should hope so," Erna said, before sauntering off again to see what Rianne was doing. He liked her.

[Olen]

Rothan

The caravan slowed and ground to a halt. Rothan was too far back to see what the problem was but he assumed they'd be making camp. Predictably the caravan had made less than fantastic time and the dwemer bridge would make good shelter for those without tents. The weather was still good enough though so he wouldn't have to force himself on anyone yet. The Armigers wouldn't like having an extra body but he doubted they'd refuse a priest.

"Looks like we're stopping to camp," he said to Eno, "I wander why they've stopped us for so long. I need to find somewhere to give prayers to any who want them."

And there's that pilgrim, I must see how he's fairing with that guar...

[minque]

Rianne

Rianne smiled and accepted the hackle-lo from Dralas.

"There's something going on" she said calmly "I can smell the odour of animals...probably Kagoutis"

While smoking her hackle -lo she prepared her bow. The arrow was long and smooth...Rianne stroke it gently...


She didn't really want to use it, she didn't want the others to know just how good she was with her bow, well except from Dralas of course, he was special, he was one of her own.

"Shall we try to get some information?"


"Morrie! you stay put lassie right?" Rianne whispered in the guar's ear

She took Dralas' hand and advanced forward...

[Dantrag]

Dralas

Dralas wasn't sure if the bow was necessary and he was wary of leaving their things behind, but he shrugged and went with Rianne to investigate the problem. They pushed forward through the crowd and arrived in time to listen as the leaders discussed their course of action. There was a small herd of kagouti ahead, and they had apparently decided to kill them. He smiled to himself. A hunting party would not have even spoken; positions would have been taken and arrows fired with no communication beyond a hand signal or two. He had to give the Armigers credit though; the archers made short work of the creatures.

"Kagouti, just like you said. Now we figure out if we're going to set up camp or not."

He hoped that the leaders of the caravan would decide to stop for the evening, since many people at the back hadn't waited for permission anyway. It would give him a chance to wander around and ask questions about his ancestors.

I don't know even how to ask about the bones without seeming suspicious, much less who to speak to.

[minque]

Rianne

"Ok, that was it then" she sighed as she saw the result of the so called hunting-party.

Pity...those kagouti wouldn't have harmed us, I could have talked them out of it


"what's the matter, Dralas?, You look weary..."

Rianne looked sternly at the young man..there was something bothering him, and she couldn't figure out what it was, and she so wanted to help him.

Her sixth sense told her something was the matter...

[jack cloudy]

Eno Arval

"Really? Now I won't say I can't use a break, but still...couldn't we have travelled just a bit longer? This place looks awfully exposed to me." Eno replied to Rothan. He then shrugged as he leaned on his Guar's back. Having only one healthy leg had made it difficult to keep up with the caravan's pace, but his pride demanded of him that he would. He refused to be the cause of any slowdown.
"But then again, that bridge is the closest thing to anything even resembling cover ever since we entered the foyada. I didn't know there was a Dwemer construct here." He continued on, more to himself than to the priest.
"What do you think? Could there be ruins nearby? If so, I definitely don't want to stay here if it can be helped. Those metal creatures always give me the shivers."

Haz

Haz breathed out a silent word of relief behind his scarf. As the day had moved on, his walking meal had become harder and harder to move. Not because the Guar actively struggled, but simply because it was too weak to keep up. By the time the caravan finally stopped, he was quite literally dragging it along by its leash, pulling on the rope with both hands.
"Looks like we're done for today." He observed as people began to pull out tents.
"Even if the leader wants to move on, it will take more than a gentle word to get these fools moving again."

A soft thud made him look back. Old Eyeless, as that one Armiger had called the beast, had just collapsed in the ash. Not worried at all but with his anger rising again, Haz knelt down beside it and held a hand on its chest. Its heart was still beating, and it was still breathing, though weakly.
"Well, it looks like you've survived the first day. But will you survive the second?" The Argonian thought as he let go of the leash.
"Frankly, I would prefer it if you died quickly. Lugging around all this garbage is hard enough. I don't have the strength to pull you along as well."

[Dantrag]

Rianne

"Ok, that was it then" she sighed as she saw the result of the so called hunting-party.

Pity...those kagouti wouldn't have harmed us, I could have talked them out of it


"what's the matter, Dralas?, You look weary..."

Rianne looked sternly at the young man..there was something bothering him, and she couldn't figure out what it was, and she so wanted to help him.

Her sixth sense told her something was the matter...

Dralas

"Well," he said as they walked back towards the guar, "I'm not really here to work construction. My tribe let the Temple take something of mine, and I want it back, one way or another."

More and more people were getting comfortable under the bridge, and tents continued to spring up. They made it back to Morrie, who was still standing where they left him. Dralas began taking things off of the animal since they were making camp.

"Only problem is, I don't know where to look."

[canis216]

Dranas Heleran, Foyada Mamaea

Again, being at the head of the caravan had its perks. After helping assisting an armiger in the removal of a kagouti corpse (doing his part to curry favor with authority) Dranas was able to position his swag on a (blessedly) flat patch of ground adjacent to one of the massive buttresses that supported the bridge's massive span. In camping, as in all parts of his business, he was nothing if nothing if not precise. First Dranas constructed a modest campfire--he used a bit of roobrush for tinder, setting it underneath a cylindrical "yurt" of twigs and small branches. Once these caught flame, he would add larger pieces to the fire. Once the fire was ready he set some meat (courtesy of the now-exterminated kagouti herd) and ash yams over the flames. They would cook while he set up his nightly "quarters".

Dranas' sleep kit consisted of a light canvas tarp, a couple of light balsa-wood poles, eight light-weight steel stakes, a little bit of tough cord, and his custom-made sleeping bag. The tarp carried a light coating of resin that made it water-resistant and would, if erected properly, provide nearly as much shelter from wind and rain as a proper tent. Dranas stretched the tarp out and staked down the corners, as a start. Then he used his balsa poles to prop up each end of his "tent". The shelter was completed with a little more stretching and staking--easily strong enough for sleeping in the open, and nearly fool-proof in the lee of the bridge support. All that was left was to unroll his bag underneath it. It was one of his most prized possessions--tailor-made in Alinor from the strongest silks and stuffed with goose feathers for warmth. While others shivered in their bedrolls, Dranas would doze away in luxuriant warmth.

Speaking of warmth, his kagouti-meat and ash yams were on the verge of burning. Dranas rescued his food from the fire, pulled out a flask of brandy, and dined. Pure pleasure. After dinner he would be back to business--getting to know his fellow travelers and identifying the prospective customers.

[bbqplatypus]

Apelles Velvus

Apelles sat beneath the shadow of the massive dwarven bridge, as the setting sun cast its few remaining rays of light as it began to dip beneath the horizon. A small, efficient fire was burning beside him, and his cloth tent and bedroll were set up near him. He eyeballed the piece of meat roasting on the fire.

"Hmm..." he muttered. "Looks done."

He quickly grabbed the meat from the kagouti he had slain from the makeshift spit he had put it on. It had been a good, clean kill - straight through the ears. It was probably completely painless. He may have been a decent shot, but he was rarely that accurate. Such an occasion called for a celebration. He pulled out his hip flask and took a swig.

However, he couldn't savor the meal for too long. He had to get to sleep as soon as he could - the escorts would be guarding the caravan in shifts during the night. He had drawn the last shift, in the early morning, well before sunrise. It suited him well - he was an early riser. He was used to getting little sleep on expeditions into the wilderness.

But it was starting to take its toll on him. He could still do the job competently, though he wasn't quite as good as he once was. But he knew he didn't have many years left - five at the very most. His fortieth birthday was but a few months away. And the dull life of a House administrator did not suit him well at all.

Apelles looked at the great brass edifice towering above the caravan. He marveled at its intricate construction - the patterns and engravings visible even from a hundred feet below. Somehow, the structure had endured for over thirty-five centuries - longer than Vvardenfell had been an island. It had survived the great eruption that had so violently separated it from the mainland. Had it been built by any other species (save perhaps the Ayleids), it would have long since crumbled into dust, having been abandoned for so long.

Apelles would die - probably sooner rather than later. And as the centuries passed, even his memory would be lost to the sands of time. But that bridge would still be standing there, long after his children's children's children's children had succumbed to the worms.

And then he would pass into the halls of Aetherius, where he would be remade and reborn. All that he had ever been before would be purged - lost forever, forgotten even to the Nine. Gone. Destroyed. His soul would survive, but it would no longer be his. Neither he nor anything that defined who he was would survive his death. After all his living was through, after all the excitement and boredom, all the joy and misery that he had experienced, he would be unceremoniously dismantled for metaphysical scrap by a few distant, indifferent gods. And then the cycle would begin again, with a new generation born to be forgotten by their successors. And through it all, that damn bridge would still be standing there - a hunk of metal that would endure longer than the memory of any man.

In a way, he could understand why the Dunmer worshiped their ancestors - that they may not be forgotten. That they may live forever in the hearts of their descendants.

But he could never do it himself. He could never bring himself to worship his father.

He took another swig of brandy and put the cap back on the flask. Yes, soon he would rest. But first, he needed to talk to Salms Ralas.

Quietly, he got up and made his way to the lead Armiger's tent.

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 9 2009, 06:05 PM

[canis216]

Dranas Heleran

Finished with dinner, Dranas was finally able to amble about camp. He noticed a pair of ashlanders in conversation--one man, one woman. Dranas had done a little bit of trading with the Zainab (exchanging perfectly legal potions for highly illegal tariff-free ebony and volcanic glass, mostly) but otherwise had few dealings with them. Why would ashlanders be doing traveling to a Temple project? It was curious. He would have to think on it.

Passing the ashlanders by, Dranas turned his attention to a pair of modestly attired city Dunmer. One, and older fellow, was a bit shorter than he was and appeared to walk with a bit of a limp. He leaned very slightly against a long walking stick. Aside from the walking stick he was unarmed. The other man was younger, taller, fitter, and armed with a small iron (OOC: is it iron, Olen? I'm guessing.) club. Dranas tramped up to them and extended a hand.

"Good evening," he said. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Dranas Heleran, trader extraordinaire."

[jack cloudy]

Eno Arval

It had become clear to Eno that this place would be their camp for the night. He'd just turned his attention towards the straps of his Guar when Rothan and he were approached by a fellow traveller.
"Ah, good evening. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Eno Arval, and I make musical instruments. My friend here...Ah, it's not my place to speak without seeking your approval. Perhaps you prefer to make your introduction yourself? Besides, I have some matters to attend to and I'd rather get them done while there is still a sun to see by." He said, finishing with a nod to Rothan.

He then excused himself as he turned his attention back towards his Guar for the moment. With a few quick tugs on the right knots and pieces of rope, he freed his tent from the creature's back. The Dunmer laid the various pieces on the ground and then removed the rest of his luggage.
"There you go. Feels a lot better doesn't it, with all that dead weight off your back, hmm?" He said while patting its nose.
"And don't worry, I'll give you your diner soon."

[Olen]

Rothan

Eno turned to his guar leaving Rothan with the mer who'd introduced himself as Dranas. He sported a mohawk, as was common among the more fashion conscious of the younger generation. But there was something about him which made Rothan sure he wasn't so wet behind the ears.

"I'm Rothan Sarayn, priest. If you're interested in prayer I shall be giving praise to Vivec once people have settled." He stopped to put his pack down, "What is it you trade in?"

The sun was going down and he wanted to deliver a short sermon, assuming anyone had the energy, before it set.

[canis216]

Dranas Heleran

Dranas was taken somewhat aback by the priest's question. What did he trade in? He'd not really ever given it much thought. After all, Dranas Heleran traded in everything; drugs, slaves, sex, information--all were means to an end.

"Well serjo, I suppose you could say that I trade in most anything. Tools, weapons, raw construction materials, foodstuffs, potables... I guess you could say that I'm a regular general store. And if I don't have it, I know where it can be got--and for the best price."

He continued, "I take it you're along to bless the construction? I wish I could say that I was interested in your prayer, as you seem a good fellow, but I must confess to not being a very religious man. I was raised far away from the Temple, and about the only prayers I've ever made were to Tava or Kynareth, and only under duress. Sailing will do that."

[Olen]

Rothan

Rothan wandered just how far anything went but decided not to say anything. Any big project would attract entrepreneurs perhaps Dranas dealt in illicit wares but equally the suggestion might have been innocent. Either way it wasn't his business, yet. He was used to people not being interested in religion, especially outlanders and didn't really care. The sermon was only a cover anyway.

"Very well, if you ever feel you wish to know more I am here," he paused to rake though his bag, "I'm about to have some hackle-lo tea if you want some, I swear I'm always most tired after the first day."

He pulled a small pan from his bag and quickly found some, rather low quality, dried hackle-lo but whoever had packed hadn't given him anything to sweeten it with.

"Hmm," he looked back to Dranas, "Do you have any sugar?"

[canis216]

Dranas Heleran

For a moment Dranas thought that the priest was asking for moon sugar (such was the way his mind was programmed) but he quickly recalibrated his thinking. Rothan wanted the ordinary, non-illegal, sweetener. Though it was true that the one of the main khajiti uses for moon sugar was to sweeten cooking... not now!, he thought.

"Of course," he said. "I've got a whole sack of it over at my camp. If you want to start on the tea, I'll go get the sugar."

[Olen]

Rothan

Rothan nodded as Dranas departed and started laying a small fire. Some other travellers already had theirs going so he borrowed a burning stick rather than striking a fresh fire himself. He set the pan between two stones on the fire and waited for it to boil. He had just added the leaves when Dranas returned with the sugar.

"Thanks," said Rothan, "Put a fair bit in, I could use the energy. I wander if any of that Kagouti meat is still available..."

[canis216]

Dranas Heleran

Dranas spooned out an ample helping of sugar, speaking as he worked.

"This here is the finest--maybe the second finest--sugar in the Empire. Got it straight from the cane fields outside Torval, in Elsweyr. You know this stuff is blessed by The Mane? Don't know if you've heard of him, but he's kind of the local deity, in my understanding. Kind of like your Tribunal... except mortal, I guess."

Dranas finally looked up. "You wanted kagouti meat?"

[Colonel Mustard]

Erna Rahnis

As darkness began to settle over the camp, Erna realised he would need a place to sleep. And he wouldn't mind some company.

The guar's former owner had packed a tent, and so Erna cast around for a place to set it up, before noticing that two men, one older than the other, had set up their tents and there was room for a third. He could also smell some hackle lo tea brewing.

He wandered over to the two men and asked; "Room for anyone else?"

[bbqplatypus]

Apelles Velvus

Apelles made his way toward Salms Ralas's tent. It wasn't too far off - under the bridge, near the north end of the camp.

As he walked, he passed by Dranas Heleran, who was talking to a pair of Dunmer.

Potential customers, perhaps, he thought. He paid them no heed - he knew Heleran wouldn't conduct his real business out in the open like this. He was likely just scouting out for possible buyers.

But then he heard the word "sugar" and stopped dead in his tracks.

He wouldn't dare...

He shot a quick glance over to the scene. They were beside a small fire, boiling some tea. He wasn't sure, but one of them looked to be a priest. Definitely not his usual clientele.

Ah...he was talking about regular sugar.

Still, the conversation intrigued him. He listened in a bit closer.

Oooh...not the kind of thing you should say to a priest. Apelles winced.

He decided he'd stay put for a while, just to listen to how the priest would respond. He remained still, but inconspicuous, sitting down on the dry ground next to a group congregated around a large fire, avoiding looking at them too directly. However, he was seriously contemplating actually confronting them...

This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Mar 11 2009, 01:59 AM

[Olen]

Rothan

Rothan hardly heard the offer of kagouti meat. The comment about the Tribunal had hit a little to close to a certain text which lay in the back of his pack. Are they truly immortal? Yes, the text must be lies... He shook the thoughts from his mind. Dranas couldn't possibly know. But suddenly the book didn't seem quite as well hidden as he'd have liked.

He became aware his silence was stretching, "Quite. The Tribunal are immortal and will watch over us." Even that didn't fit though, if they were all powerful then why were they only fencing Dagoth Ur in? He paused, aware that he should be spouting a sermon. But how balanced could such a sermon be? "When Almsivi washed clean Vvardenfel of the taint of Dagoth Ur they returned as our immortal protectors..." he let it trail away. "Anyway," he continued stirring the pot, "Sounds like this sugar is quite the stuff. Not the only sugar to some out of Elsweyr mind, I hope you're not trying to poison me." He smiled.

Just as he was going to pour the tea a figure emerged by the fire. "Room for anyone else?" he asked.

"I'd say so. I'm Rothan Sarayn, priest." Rothan extended his hand.