The Shadow Under Fort Sutch, RP Playground Thread Options

[Darkness Eternal]

Lycus Desselius.

The Imperial nearly scratched his ear at the nerve-wrecking laughter coming from the rogue. It was too loud and it was as if a nail was scratching against the stone corners of his mind.

"The spear has limitations," Lycus added. "If I must throw it toward one foe, what weapon shall I have then?"

That moment is where the Bosmer brandished his axe and began to swing it. Slaying imaginary foes and prancing about with efficiency and finesse balanced with strength and power. Lycus had a keen eye. He had mastered the art of the blade and the shield and an expert on the blunt weaponary.

Years toiling and training underneath the hot sun and cold rainstorms of Morrowind and watching his beloved wife show her unique skill with the axe and the club, Lycus could discern that Ylenno was no fool, despite his rather odd and peculiar behavior. Ylenno's weapon was unique. It had a superior craftmanship over the very mundane ones sold at the store, and it was etched with different symbols and artwork that made it stand out. It also had a glow to it that Lycus tried to understand. Could it be Daedric? Or enchanted?

The annoyed store owner proclaimed his distress by clearing his throat, putting Ylenno's wild and childlike behavior to a stop. The Bosmer laughed and apologized, picked up a set of gloves and returned back to Lycus.

Lycus by then was already swinging his sword, slowly, however. Just to make sure the fit of the armor was good enough. And it was. It was a perfect fit.

Ylenno returned, and confessed he was not skilled with the blade. Lycus shrugged silently. He can use an axe. That's good enough.

"But if you're asking me what I think you're asking me, then hell to the yes, I am very handy with a 'blade'. Girls call my hair the Bush Tickler, but when things go bumpy in the night, they'll meet . . . my Cavefish Shanker!"

Lycus froze, sheathed his blade, turned slowly to the man and raised a single eyebrow of confusion. He exhaled deeply with his nostrils. This man is insane. Hilariously so. Lycus chose to not comment on that. Not that he felt uncomfortable, in fact, he was well-taught in the Dibellan(or Sanguine) field of intimacy. He smiled, for it was a bit amusing, but otherwise kept a regular expression. He didn't find things comical as he used to. He wasn't the same man as he was before. The old Kraven would join in the tease, grab his own manhood, and raise an arm in the air and shout to proclaim the impressive size of his manhood to men and women and elderly alike. But those days are over. Long dead.

"But hey, phallic sobriquets aside, if you've asked that for... a dance later on, then lemme say that I don't swing that way! I'm not that kind of 'elf', see? I don't put from the rough, or, or, Spart your Tacos, okay?" Okay."

Lycus blinked, set his large hand on Ylenno's shoulder, and leaned in. "Neither am I that kind of man that would have another bend to the dirt and have his cheeks spread. Fortunate for you, I'm sure. " He chuckled and slapped the Bosmer gently and walked off to the counter to pay off his due.

[Uleni Athram]

Ylenno froze, motionless and white, as Lycus leaned in and laid a large hand on his shoulder. Up close like this, he could really understand why people admired him. He had strong features, that much was a given, but to see it so near was a different thing. He looked like one of those descriptive barbarian heroes one can find in recent novels, and Lycus upped it up with that savage aura of his.

As usual, the elf had that roguish grin on him.

"Oh yes, oh yes, very fortunate indeed! You won't believe how many times I've been propositioned by raving manlovers who apparently can't get enough of elven androgynity! Sick bastards, the lot of 'em. Don't get me started on catamites!"

He followed Lycus to the counter and watched the transaction take place. He rapped on the plated back of the Imperial. Orcish steel was the same deal with the Orcs themselves, appearance-wise. Ugly and sore, but terrifyingly hardy and enduring. A proper Orcish smith could craft a suit of armor so hard you could break steel on it and not even a dent would show. Or so they say. Mobility was divine for the types of Ylenno, as he wasn't built like a brickhouse or a mountain. Still, he could respect the protection it offered. One of these days, he'd remember to buy a coat of Orcish chainmail.

"Fits you well, Champ. I suppose you'll be one of the front liners. Good thing too, if you'd ask me. Those pale creatures under the Fort sounds like nasty beasts, and we'll need you to soak up the hurt while we at the back wet ourselves silly!"

He turned serious.

"Never heard of their sort before, though. But if they get killed like the rest, then we shouldn't be worried. Much. I dunno about you, champ, but I'm going out and meet with the others. We still have time to kill before Oedipus calls us back in."

He went outside, traced the footsteps of yesterday and walked the path towards the Count's Arms. But on the way, she spied Lady Dame Buffy emerge from the Mages Guild, and started walking towards the Guildhall all by her lonesome.

Can't have that, he smiled.

"Hey there, blondie from Bravil," he hailed her. "Beautifying the streets with your radiant personality, I see."

He took a look around.

"I bet you my week's supplies of Thrassian snake oil that the majority of the others are in the Count's Arms!"

He held out his arm and held that cheeky grin on his face.

"Wanna go see and gamble against Ylenno?"

[Acadian]

Buffy:

As Buffy drew a bit closer to the Adventurers Guild, she began to make out familiar figures.

"Hey there, blondie from Bravil," she heard. "Beautifying the streets with your radiant personality, I see."

Buffy spun around to almost bump into Ylenno.

The Bosmeri rogue continued, "I bet you my week's supplies of Thrassian snake oil that the majority of the others are in the Count's Arms!" He then offered an arm and a grin. "Wanna go see and gamble against Ylenno?"

Buffy took the elf’s arm, dipping her head to acknowledge his graciousness. “I thank you, kind sir, but I fear I would win that wager. For you stand here with me on your arm and,” Buffy pointed toward the group assembling in front of the Adventurers Guild, “yonder I see Westley with our two tall mer-maids.”

She giggled, then turned serious. “Ylenno, I do hope when this is over we have some time to catch up. Perhaps you would enjoy some stories about your sister and I’m still anxious to hear what happened to you during your long absence from Bravil." She squeezed his strong arm. "But for the moment I’ll trust you to escort me to where I need to be.” After a moment, she added “Have you seen Tarrick or Lycus?”

[Uleni Athram]

"Wait.. what?" Ylenno squinted at the gathered forms by the Adventurer Guildshall and sure enough, there they were, Westley and Kayla and Elandine, deep in conversation, all of them geared up for what secret dances in the shadow under Fort Sutch. Ylenno had a genuine look of surprise on his face.

"I could've sworn they were... I didn't even... But they were... Gods, I must be going blind, sister elf!"

He chuckled with her, and he still had some merriness in him when she spoke seriously. It surprised him to be honest. People back at Bravil didn't bat an eyelash when he returned as the prodigal son; even his fellow orphans, his childhood friends, weren't particularly excited about his homecoming, only giving a damn when money (or violence) got involved. So Buffy actually caring about his 'exile' took him off guard. For a nanosecond the darker side of him thought that she was playing the mama-bear goody-two-shoes act, but discarded that thought away as quickly as it came. Buffy was too true for that.

He gave her a rare specimen of his smile; quiet, genuine, and not overly exaggerated.

"I appreciate it, Buffy. After this is done... yes, after this is done, we'll catch up. I haven't had a genuine talk about .. her since, well. Since I got the news."

He looked around Anvil, seeing but not really looking, an ancient sorrow so ripe in his face that held back some unbidden tears.

"I promised myself that I'll honor her memory by passing on with my life, but... It never really goes away, doesn't it? We can bury them, but we can't ever forget them."

He wiped his eyes and laughed suddenly, but there was a hollow ring to it.

"I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away there. Come on then, sister! Let's go! And I don't know about Tarrick; guy has a quick shadow on his steps. Lycus, however, he's over at the local smith. Met him there. Bought an orcish set of armor, the rich guy."

They walked towards the three others.

[King Of Beasts]

"Anyway, do you have everything you need?"

Westley shrugged "I suppose so. I've got all the potions and food I need. I suppose all we have to do is wait for the word, and then we're off to Sutch."

Westley saw three familiar figures coming towards Kayla, Elaninde, and himself. He waved to signal them over.

[Acadian]

Buffy:

Ylenno, with Buffy on his arm, started toward the others. When the tall Bosmer shared some of his grief over losing his sister, a wave of the same washed over Buffy. Without even looking, she knew that if she stared to the east on a clear day from here, she could almost see the western edge of Kvatch Plateau. The spot that hosted the grave of Savlian Matius.

She stopped and wrapped both her hands around one of Ylenno's. With glistening eyes she said, “I know exactly how you feel, brother. I-I don’t think the pain ever goes away. I. . . forgive me.” The mystic archer lifted a right fist. Magic escaped her hand as she opened it. Small fingers then closed upon the summoned linen handkerchief that the elf then dabbed to her eyes.

Slipping her other hand around Ylenno’s arm, she said, “Look! Westley’s waving. Let’s go join them.”

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Kayla answered Elinande's question.

"We do, thank you. And I trust you are prepared as well?"

Buffy and Ylenno approached before the last word was past her lips. Kayla raised an eyebrow at Ylenno's bruised face, but said nothing. Then she blinked in surprise.

"A wood elf with an axe! Now THAT is impressive!"

Kayla hoped, for the group's sake, that the smaller elf could wield the weapon. She found swords more graceful, and axes brutish, more suitable for the hairy men that banged on tables at wenches that passed them at the inns. She hadn't expected Ylenno to show up with one. She absentmindedly touched the hilt of Dawnbreaker as she grinned at the pair of wood elves.

[Darkness Eternal]

Lycus Desselius:

"Fits you well, Champ. I suppose you'll be one of the front liners. Good thing too, if you'd ask me. Those pale creatures under the Fort sounds like nasty beasts, and we'll need you to soak up the hurt while we at the back wet ourselves silly!"

Lycus wouldn't have it any other way. Fighting was written in his blood just as hunting was. It defined him as a man and as an individual. Deep down he knew he would not die at a death bed, or peacefully along the shores of some distant beach. No. He would die at the end of a blade. Whether in the wilderness, or in his own home. Whether in some great conflict or a minor one. Either protecting his woman or one day, even his children. It did not matter why. He lived his life by the sword, and thus by the sword he would die. He was once a gladiator, and he now stands a warrior. Deserving only the fate equal to the lives he has taken with his fangs and claws. And he was fine with that.

His time with the Companions only furthered that belief. "Glory in battle, honor in life."

"Never heard of their sort before, though. But if they get killed like the rest, then we shouldn't be worried. Much. I dunno about you, champ, but I'm going out and meet with the others. We still have time to kill before Oedipus calls us back in."

The Imperial nodded gently as he kept his eyes on his own gauntlets, not turning to watch Ylenno leave through the entrance and out into the town. He was a funny fellow, this Ylenno. He meant well. Lycus would have to see if he was skilled in battle, despite his last words on the matter. His dancing with the axe was evidence enough, though.

"Friend of yours?" the Dunmer who owned the store inquired.

Lycus shook his head. "We just met. One of the adventurers on path to Fort Sutch."

"And you?"

"I am as well."

“A brave soul. Some sailors by the Flowing Bowl claim that all those who enter the earth shall die and have their souls devoured by walking mermaids.”

"Then they are lousier fools than I imagined," Lycus smirked. "There will be many men and many women, with all levels of skill."

And he'd seen all manners of creatures, fought all types of monsters and survived against a Daedric Lord. Walking sea-sirens would be the least of his concerns.

“You will join with the others?”

“I will. Together, an inferno shall be ignited in the depths of Fort Sutch. And if I survive, I shall piss out the flames that smolder and mark my place." Lycus said with a wolfish grin. "If not, then I'll march my way to the afterlife."

Before he could say a word, a gentle hand tugged on his elbow, and he turned to see that same Altmer fan girl standing at his side. She was wearing, in keeping with the adventurer’s occasion, a set of light armor made of elven material that had seen more years than it should have. She was a mere shadow of a girl, fresh-faced and virginal. Her skin was golden, slightly contrasting his sun-baked body. She stared at Lycus with her bedroom eyes and smiled.

What in Hircine's name does she want?

“Look at the muscles on you!” giggled the Altmer. “I never had the chance to feel them. The golden-rod at the guildhall didn’t let me. But that doesn’t stop me. If she a friend of yours?”

Lycus shot a look to the Dunmer man, nodded and thanked him, and shook his head to the girl as he began to walk away. “No.”

“Then you need a friend?”

Lycus was quiet as he continued on. His heavy boots striking the ground with heavy thuds as he traversed the store’s length. She jumped in front of him at the threshold of the exit, and sighed. “Please. Sorry if I seemed a bit upfront. But I’ve never seen a man such as yourself.”

“You’re not looking hard enough.”

“But you’re here! Now. In front of me. Please. I am you’re biggest fan. I paid to watch every match and I had even got a lot of coin betting on you. For a girl at my age, that was difficult. But I am of age now. Wouldn’t you want to relax? We can go on adventures together in far away lands! I can be of assistance and do anything you desire.”

Lycus considered his next words. He breathed deeply, to better control himself lest he succumb to his natural urges and strike out at the girl. And his hand moved from the sheathe of his sword toward her face. His fingers grabbed the bottom of her chin slightly and he looked into her eyes for what might have seemed like an eternity. His eyes traveled from her eyes to her mouth down to her chest, which he secretly admitted looked as if they concealed a pair of mosquito bites rather than full breasts. He nodded as a hungry man eager to engage in an intimate encounter with a young woman. He gave her a look that said: I like what I see.

“It is an offer only a married man or a fool would refuse,” Lycus whispered. “I know the desire you feel. You cannot wait any longer. You have spirit, woman. I will oblige.”

“We can go to a tavern-”

“Or you can go to the room upstairs and wait for me. Morvayn is a friend of mine.” He lied. “He will not mind as long as we are quiet and quick. Go there and wait for me.”

She did as she was told, spiriting herself away to the upstairs. Morvayn had a confused look as he saw the Altmer woman run up the stairs. He chased after her with an upraised fist. “Hey! Get out of there!”

Lycus immediately left the shop and headed outside. She would wait for him, but he would never return. She seemed too young, and appeared too inexperienced, and he was married and a loyal man. He had no time for such thing, especially on the eve of what could be a challenging battle. This woman had absolutely no chance in Nirn.

He hurried off and away, hoping that he would never see this woman again. He already registered her smell, of ale and beer and sweat and odor, which told him she must have been trying her luck in the local taverns or perhaps she worked there. It did not matter the case. She can find another man’s ground to worship, for his was not meant for her kind.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Feb 22 2013, 03:22 AM

[Colonel Mustard]

GM Post

Melisare found the bedroom, opened its door and sprawled back on the bed, relishing the feeling of the cloth-covered straw. It was, perhaps, somewhat uncomfortable, but she didn't care, concerned only for the fact that Kraven Desselius would be with her soon and she would be in the embrace of a pair strong, bronzed arms. She sighed in contentment, closing her eyes.

They snapped open as someone hammered on the door, and she sat up in time to see the armourer burst through it.

"What in Azura's name do you think you're doing?" the dunmer asked.

"What do you mean? Kra-Lycus said that you two had an agreement and that you wouldn't mind if we-"

"Well, he's lying to you, girl, now get out of my damn bedroom!" the armourer snapped. "He's gone!"

"Gone?"

"Yes, Gone! Now you get out of here too!"

Melisare rose with anger, confusion and disappointment boiling in the pit of her stomach. He had seemed so earnest when she had spoken to him, she was sure he had fallen for her charms. But him lying to her like that, that enraged her more than she could imagine.

He couldn't have got far, she knew that much. She hurried through the streets, towards where she guessed he might be; the gathering point for the Adventurer's Guild expedition. Not far away, she saw him, a tall figure in heavy, Orsimer-forged armour, and hurried towards him. She slipped around him, and before he could react, landed a slap square across his jaw.

"You lying, dishonest pig!" she yelled at him in a fury.



OOC: Have fun, DE.

[Darkness Eternal]

Lycus Desselius:

Lycus maintained a quick pace as he tried to speed his way out of the street corner. He knew it wouldn't be long before the woman would chase him again. It happened so quick that he did not know how to react or what to say. It's been years since he had seen a lovestruck fan. Was his decision to tell her to go to the room a poor one? He wondered.

As if reading his mind, the woman sprung from nowhere and answered his question with a lightningfast slap to his face. Wham! Her palm striking him against his face with frail force—not enough to truly break anything but sufficient to send a sting of bitterness straight to his brain. The expression on his face had no value. He was dumbstruck.

Lycus tasted his own blood upon his lips. His tongue caressed the broken surface of those lips and wiped away the blood. He had underestimated this young, fiery woman and realized his rejection of her wiles had provoked a violent response. But she was not the only one with violence and rage boiling in her heart. Lycus did too, to a much more tremendously dangerous degree.

"You lying, dishonest pig!" came the furious yell.

Bystanders stopped in their tracks to avert their eyes to the source of the distress while others already caught the woman in the act and now stared at the man who had been struck by a younger woman. There were murmurs and even giggles from the ignorant.

Lycus did not even move to massage his face for he was too stunned to even take control of his actions. His constant signature composure evaporated in an instant, as the slap in the face set his temper ablaze. His face changed color and reddened, while swollen veins seemed to throb violently at his temples. His hazel eyes, filled with rage, shifted to a molten yellow for the fraction of a single second. His nostrils flared and appeared as if all the air in the world were gathered inside. His breaths became ragged and heavy, despite his growing effort to maintain a normal rate. His jaw tensed and his neck bulged, while his teeth gritted each other as if he was feeling an unbearable amount of pain.

The Lycanthropic urge to lash out at his attacker, to shift and transform, to engage in the thrill of the hunt was tempting. Oh so tempting. There were many ways to dispatch his foes. One of these methods is as simple as reaching out and snapping her neck with his massive hands or choking the life from her. But Lycus knew better. He struggled to breathe but eventually gained control of that raging force of nature that was his Beast. This woman had all the reason to retaliate. He'd given her a reason to. But to do it in public, however, had put him in a very tight situation.

He turned his focus out from all the negative emotions and thoughts, even putting the fact that she had hit him behind him. He blinked and inhaled and exhaled slowly and met her gaze after he believed he had a measure of control over his bestial urges.

"Woman!" Lycus said. Firm and loud. "What fever grips your mind? That you would raise your hand to me and brand me swine?"

Before she could say another word, he interrupted her. "I am honored that you appreciated my career as a gladiator. Yet hold no romantic interest in you. Nor shall I ever and I apologize if that grieves your heart. But you are too young. Enjoy the other simple pleasures life has to offer but listen to my warning and heed it well: stray far from my presence and men of my kind."

He was honest. He didn't want this woman anywhere near him. Lycus had built emotional ties in the past with women. Not all of them were succesful. He knew well that if he allowed her near him she would risk her life. The lass was naive and young. Should she pursue men of his kind, warriors and gladiators, she would surely face a handful of life-threatening issues among other things. He was no knight in shining armor nor would he compare himself to one. There was no need for unnescessary bloodshed. Especially in the streets of Anvil.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Feb 24 2013, 08:53 AM

[Uleni Athram]

OOC: That was... quite restrained in the part of Lycus!

"A wood elf with an axe," Kayla declared when the duo of elves approached the trinity. "Now THAT is impressive."

Ylenno gave the Altmer his most cutest duck-face and scratched his neck sheepishly. He pointed at her own sword, which, quite frankly, gave off an aura of intense energy. An energy that was pure, but not in the same league of holiness or divinty. An eldritch purity. It gave him some minor goosebumps.

"Your sword is all the more impressive than my axe, really. Got a powerful enchantment; my magicky senses-a-tingle everytime I'm near!"

He leaned conspiratorily, and whispered in her ear.

"What's even more impressive," he said in his most Nordic voice possible. "Is your accent, lassie. Gives your smouldering sexiness a glow!"

He threw his head and laughed heartily, a hand on Kayla's shoulder. Then, his eyes and widened and one practically feel a light bulb suddenly go to life above his head. He opened his mouth.

And an explosion of flesh followed. There was a banshee shriek of betrayed hope, 'you lying dishonest pig!', and Ylenno turned sharply at the source, wondering what was happening or even if the searing curse was directed at him. He was a rogue after all, and had all the infamy such an occupation brought.

It turned out that it was hurled towards Lycus who now stared at young, and most cute elven girl that panted and frothed like a maddened dog. By the way Lycus stared at her disbelieving, and the sudden redness on his cheek, and the earlier explosion of flesh, it seems to Ylenno that the Grand Champion was .. was.... slapped!

A hulking, almost feral man was slapped in the face by a young teenaged girl. It was as funny as it was absurd.

Ylenno openly burst out laughing, his braying laughter even more intense than usual.

"What in Oblivion," he exclaimed between gasps for breath. "He just got sla-WAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NYAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He took a peek at Lycus' face and he simply died. Guy was angrier and more furious than a spitfire woman on her bleeding month! He had to hold onto Buffy for support as he howled and howled.

"Lords above, forgive me, but, heeheeheehee, that.. that.. was absurd!"

[Elisabeth Hollow]

"Your sword is all the more impressive than my axe, really. Got a powerful enchantment; my magicky senses-a-tingle everytime I'm near!" Ylenno declared.

Kayla kept a tight-lipped smile and put her hand protectively on Dawnbreaker's hilt. It was subconscious more than anything, and meant more for her own comfort. But when Ylenno leaned up and whispered in her ear, she felt a tad uncomfortable.

"What's even more impressive," he said in a ridiculously off Nordic accent, "Is your accent, lassie. Gives your smouldering sexiness a glow!"

Then she realized he was joking. Her giggle that joined his laughter was interrupted by a resounding SLAP, and when she turned, Lycus was red-faced facing an equally red-faced...

"Oh, that girl! Dumskalle! I told her to leave him alone!" She covered her eyes with one hand and shook her head. She was relieved that Lycus held his temper. He could easily crush the petite Altmer girl, or flick her aside with one finger. The most his anger showed was his bulging eyes and color on his face. He eloquently told her off, and Kayla was a smidgen impressed, but more-so relieved.

[Acadian]

Buffy:

As Kayla and Ylenno were teasing each other about axes and swords, Buffy realized that she didn’t know anything about either weapon – except she was glad her allies knew how to use them. A large figure in dark armor approaching caught her eye. She recognized him and was about to wave at Lycus when a young Altmeri lass sprinted past him then wheeled around to face the big human. She loudly slapped his face and called him a pig!

Buffy sucked her breath in and watched as Lycus’ palpable rage seemed to make him swell from twice the Altmer’s size to three times as big as his attacker. No doubt he could snap her in two with his gauntleted fist. The elf looked familiar. . . yes, she was the same serving girl in the guild hall that Lycus had summarily dismissed earlier. Buffy didn’t know what the man did to provoke the girl, but had to believe that he deserved the slap. After all, only righteous anger could prompt such a suicidal attack!

The small mystic archer's buckskin boots discretely carried her a couple steps to allow a clear path, as the emerald magic of illusion tingled in her right hand. Don’t hurt her! Buffy silently screamed, hoping somehow that her desperate thoughts mattered.

After a moment, the tension of a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike eased, as Lycus chose words instead of steel. Buffy could not hear all of what he said, but she didn’t care. He had not crushed the girl. Somewhat embarrassed, she quickly allowed the magic in her hand to dissipate. Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath since the sound of the girl’s slap had reached her long ears.

Buffy’s embarrassment only increased as she felt Ylennos’ hand on her shoulder and heard his laughter. She awkwardly smiled and forced a chuckle.

[Colonel Mustard]

GM Post

Melisare looked at Lycus in confusion, before she said; "If you weren't interested you should have said so instead of misleading me; some honourable man you are."

She heard some wood-elf with a nonsensical haircut laughing, laughing at her, and glared at him.

"The lot of you can be damned!" she called to the group who were ogling the scene. "I hope you and your 'honourable' friend meet your end in those pits!"

She stormed away, still seething with rage.

[King Of Beasts]

Westley

Westley idly stood by while a young Altmer woman argued with Lycus. Apparently he had lied about being interested in her, and she didn't take it lightly. She had slapped Lycus hard across the face, and Westley watched silently as he began to seethe with rage.

C'mon, don't do it, don't hit her back

Westley sighed in relief when Lycus told the girl off. He could hear Ylenno howling with laughter in the background, and it was only a matter of time before the Altmer woman turned her rage to the rest of the group.

"The lot of you can be damned! I hope you and your 'honourable' friend meet your end in those pits!"

Westley didn't take her insult lightly. Just as she stormed off, he confronted her before she got out of earshot.

"Who do you think you are, coming over here and slapping people over a lie, then insulting everyone else for no good reason! You'd be best to watch your tongue..." Westley scowled at the girl, and bared his teeth at her.

[Darkness Eternal]

Lycus Desselius.

"If you weren't interested you should have said so instead of misleading me; some honourable man you are."

I told her once I didn't want anything from her . . .she persisted.Lycus told himself. He never really focused on young girls like her. Not anymore. He'd had his share of a young woman when he was a young man himself and they were nothing but trouble. All of them. "I did! Your addled brain should have registered that I held no interest in you as a lover when I said I required nothing from you. I bode you farewell on your journey and that was your cue to turn upon heel and leave me be. Yet you caught my scent as some lovesick pup and never took the hint. Again, leave me be. Farewell to you."

Ylenno cackled in the backround like some rampant imp and he was quite sure he even heard a few chuckles from other members of the group. His face reddened, though not from embarrasment.

"The lot of you can be damned! I hope you and your 'honourable' friend meet your end in those pits!" the girl said to all of the ones who were laughing in the backround. She then marched off in a fit of rage.

Better her than me, otherwise there would be piles of spilled entrails all over the town . . .

As she walked off, Lycus was going to address the crowd before he heard a familiar voice confront the woman who just struck him in the face a moment ago.

"Who do you think you are, coming over here and slapping people over a lie, then insulting everyone else for no good reason! You'd be best to watch your tongue..." Westley snarled at her. His rage palpable. Lycus was fast to act, and rushed over to him despite the weight over his body. He didn't hold back his anger, politely send the woman off just so that the young hound could tear her apart. There was no sense in the bloodshed, and her death would only be due to bruised egos and insults. Not the way prey should die. It was senseless.

He set his hand on Westley's shoulder and said: "It would be best for you to let her go about her life."

Even though the pup only bares his teeth, he could actually give into his urges and bite her. Lycus was good at reading other members of his kind, for he dealt with a number of them before in his time in Skyrim and in the afterlife. He could sense Westley was wild and had much rage in him. The way he growled at the woman was evidence enough. And it is troublesome because there were too many people looking. Too many witnesses. And Lycus was not planning to spend his days in a filthy Imperial prison for relation with the death of a young woman scorned. He'd been in prisons for quite long enough . . .

He squeezed even tighter and leaned in to whisper to Westley's ear so that only he could hear. "There will be no spilled blood in this city, blood-kin. She is just a girl. The more you feed your impulses, the more you will desire to kill. And she need not die today. There would be no sport in her last breath."

Before the Altmer girl could even say a word, Lycus pointed a finger at her and held it in the air. "No more. Begone, now, woman. I seek no more quarrel than I have already caused. My say in this stands final."

"You-" She began to say.

Lycus' rage reached its peek and he lowered his finger and clenched his hand into a fist. "Begone!"

She hurried off at the booming sound of his voice. He turned to all the other bystanders, citizens of the empire and sailors both. "Gaze your eyes elsewhere. What is done is finished. There is nothing more here. Go about your lives, as I will mine."

The crowd stared at him and after sometime they all began to disperse and leave. Some dissapointed there would be no entertainment, others relieved. Even the guards who already were going toward the scene of distress seemed to back away after Lycus raised a hand and told them that it was a "misunderstanding."

He released his hold of Westley and began walking toward the group of people he recognized. He licked away a bit of blood from his lips, and stood in front of them. He stared at each of them with his heavy hazel eyes before speaking. "I hope you all filled your spirits high with laughter, for after we go under Fort Sutch, your spirits will descend with you."

It wasn't a threat. His tone was even. Normal. He showed no hostility at all. He could see that they were a happy bunch, but when tested with the ways of battle and death could they really muster the strength to laugh at death? Ylenno, certainly, for he surpassed the definition of what is considered normal. But the others? Who knew? Only time would tell.

"It is a shame that my day has begun with this sour event."

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Feb 26 2013, 11:02 PM

[King Of Beasts]

Westley

Just as Westley was about to lunge and pursue the girl, Lycus rushed over and stopped him. The bronze-skinned Imperial out his hand on Westley's shoulder.


"It would be best for you to let her go about her life." Westley was shocked when Lycus leaned closer and whispered into his ear. "There will be no spilled blood in this city, blood-kin. She is just a girl. The more you feed your impulses, the more you will desire to kill. And she need not die today. There is no sport in her last breath."

Westley took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He stood there while Lycus dismissed the crowd. When everyone was gone, he approached Lycus.

"Thank you for stoping me. I almost lost myself over something stupid, and I apologize for it." Westley smiled warmly.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Kayla's heart pounded when Westley's temper got the better of him at the slight Altmer girl's insult. It pounded out of surprise and shock that something so little could set him off. She reached out to calm him down, but Lycus was already there, leaving her hand floating in mid-air.

Lycus murmured something to Westley, causing the expression on Westley's face to snap from seething to surprised. When the crowd thinned out, and the onlookers carried on with their lives, Kayla walked to the two, Dawnbreaker bouncing angrily on her hip as her hips swayed with decided irritation.

"Thank you," She arrived just in time to hear Westley say to Lycus. She put her hand on Westley's arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What was that?" Her voice was higher than she intended it to be. "All she did was lash out in anger. She didn't MEAN anything by it, Westley." Her glance flitted to Lycus for a moment, then back to Westley. "Could you PLEASE calm down, Westley? I know you're on edge right now, we all are. But try not to lash our at children, okay?" She gave him a nervous smile.

[King Of Beasts]

Westley

Westley flinched a bit when Kayla gently squeezed his arm.

"What was that? All she did was lash out in anger. She didn't MEAN anything by it, Westley. Could you PLEASE calm down, Westley? I know you're on edge right now, we all are. But try not to lash our at children, okay?"

Westley sighed. "I know. My temper got the best of me. I exploded, couldn't control myself. Too much rage bottled up inside me. I should really calm down. I'll try not to do anything like that again, alright."

Westley looked away for a moment.

What kind of monster have I become? I nearly attacked a girl over an insult. What's wrong with me?

This post has been edited by King Of Beasts: Feb 26 2013, 11:59 PM

[Acadian]

Buffy:

Buffy quickly realized that Ylenno was laughing at the situation, not her. Laughter was an odd reaction but, then again, Ylenno was a delightfully odd Bosmer. She knew how close to the surface his grief was buried, and marveled at the light and carefree demeanor he so casually projected to most.

The girl then hurled insults at those who had been subjected to the scene and, for a few moments, Westley, the girl and Lycus were all loudly engaged. At that point, Buffy began to understand Ylenno’s laughter, even as she raised both hands to shield her keen ears from all the commotion and slid a pair of steps farther from the group.

Buffy watched as the young Altmer wheeled and hurried off past the smith’s shop she had come out of, past the inn and down the street as if heading for the gate to the docks. By the time the girl was out of sight, Buffy noticed that Lycus had rejoined the group. She hadn’t heard his words, but it was the big human’s actions that mattered. He had displayed the self-discipline to extricate himself from the awkward tiff without violence. Westley, on the other hand, was still being calmed by the soothing words of Kayla.