The Wobbly Goblet Playground Options

[Black Hand]

He shook his head. "I can honestly say that I am not the Grandmaster." leaving out the part that he was retired.

"Makes no difference if I were. We are still equals, you aren't an underling." he said grabbing his armor and re-suiting up.

He went over to the window and unlatched the lock. Looking out into the early evening, it was still too dark to see everything. As such, he put on the Morag Tong hood, enchanted with a superior night-eye enchantment that adapted to ambient and local lighting based on the wearer's perception. Despite the thick red lenses, they were not part of the enchantment, simply to protect the wearer from ash storms.

The deep, dark red hue of the scarf that now covered his face was the same shade of the traditional Morag Tong robes. That was no coincidence in this case, it was the remnants of his own robes.

Looking out again, he examined the surroundings, and was satisfied the coast appeared to be clear.

When Eyja asked to entomb the body over in the ruins, he approved. Burying it where it would do the most harm seemed kind of counter-productive to the reason he eliminated the man in the first place.

"Of course. A bit of a walk doesn't bother me, and the idea of killing someone's pets strikes me as something that this man would have enjoyed." he had replied.

"The potion was indeed well-made. By whomever made it. I have no idea how to replicate it. Unfortunately, I had only the one. But I had seen it being used once before..." he trailed off, remembering the Khajiiti nomads, and the Orc bandit they had used it on. The Elder Khajiit granted him a sample with a small lecture on it's properties and uses.

He grabbed a rope from his pack, tying it around the base of one of the pillars. He pulled on it, making sure it would support his weight.

He and Eyja grabbed the package and took it to the window throwing it out and it landed with a dull thud and slight rustling in the grass.

"If you want to stay and investigate in the tavern, I can do this and I'll inspect the belongings later." he suggested, putting his weapons back on.

"Or, if you wish to come along, that is fine. It...how do I say this? It is starting to get cold outside." he said his head cocking ever so slightly downwards.

"I have some warmer clothes in the pack if you wish." he said grabbing the rope and pointing with his head to it. He rappelled down the side of the building to finish this task.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Jul 20 2013, 04:49 PM

[King Coin]

Aravi entered the inn. She was sore, tired, and hungry. She looked around and saw the inn was a lot less crowded than it was a couple of nights ago. A single man was at the bar along with the staff. This made her a little happier in the state she was in.

She wasn’t wearing her shining elven armor this time; instead she was in her simple bra and loincloth. These were dirty and smelled like sweat, but at least were not covered in blood from her torn ear. She wiped some of the blood off of her face back at the cave, but she needed soap to get it all out of her fur.

The ear was painful, and she hoped to see Abiene tonight. She hoped the healer would be able to repair the tear. Additionally, she had come to a decision on the other matter.

She walked to the counter, intent on getting a room. And a bath.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Stefan nodded to Irvana.

"Adieu, my dear."

He leaned his elbow against the bar and swirled his wine around in his glass, mulling over his thoughts of his next book.

She gave me a good idea, but how can I switch things around so it's not outright plagiarizing?

Perhaps expand on the legend itself, give the young woman more life...

A young Khajiit woman blew into the door, drawing Stefan's attention from his wine to her form. She was wearing naught but a loincloth and a small bra. Blood soaked one side her her face, and he saw that it seemed to come from a poorly healed injury on her ear.

He turned to make conversation when the barman approached the bar, shooting him an odd look as he spoke to the Khajiit. He shrugged and began to turn back to the bar when the door flew open again, revealing a young high elf woman with blood splattered on her face, a few smears on her cheeks and chin, like she had tried to wipe the splatters off her face, but only made things worse.

Interesting...

- - -

Kayla groaned and panted. She wished she had taken a page from Aravi's book and taken her armor off and walked back in her underclothes.

She stumbled p to the bar with Aravi, letting out a breath of relief as she sat on a bar stool. The barman raised his brows at the two of them.

"We want rooms again, please. Separate. Please."

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jul 20 2013, 08:45 PM

[Grits]

Bograk

Bograk watched Aravi approach the bar. She looked worn out but steady on her feet.

Dar’muktah caught her eye and she gave him a nod. The vampire hunters would want food, drink, and baths. With Lleris missing the Khajiit would have to lend Hethilion a hand.

Bograk pulled Aravi’s letter out of her pocket and slid it across the bar. “Welcome back,” she said. “This came while you were gone.” She glanced over Aravi to see how many of the others had returned.

The Altmer Kayla collapsed onto a barstool. “We want rooms again, please. Separate. Please.”

Hethilion stepped up to take their instructions.


This post has been edited by Grits: Jul 20 2013, 08:55 PM

[King Coin]

Aravi smiled a little at Kayla’s words. The man at the counter was trying not to stare at the two of them. Is it the blood, or is it because I’m not wearing much? Aravi wondered.

Aravi glanced at the letter, and was surprised to see it was from Abiene. Probably means she had to go back into town. She sighed and opened the letter.

Dearest Aravi,

As I’m sure you have discovered, I am not at the Wobbly Goblet. I’m afraid I will miss our meeting tonight. Please accept my deepest apologies, Aravi. I hope you can believe that only the direst of circumstances would cause me to treat you this way.

But before I explain I must ask you to please let me know how you fared against the vampires. Are you injured? Are you well? I know that you and the others are capable warriors, but you are also a friend. I won’t rest until I know that all of you returned.

I am presently in Chorrol. There has been an attempt on my life.

Aravi raised her eyebrows and her ears perked forward. A twinge of pain accompanied the movement but she did not react.

The poison has taken a toll and will require considerable treatment. More concerning is that the assassin may strike again if indeed I was their intended target. Tonight I plan to sleep at the Grey Mare, a place no one who knows the slightest thing about me would ever think to look.

Additionally it seems I may be responsible for passing along an infectious disease. Hopefully you did not return to an inn full of feverish staff and patrons. If you did, that is also my fault. The remedy is a simple curative potion. And of course the devout might seek treatment at the priory across the road.

It is too much to hope that you might still wish to meet with me, but I do. Aravi, I am not usually this fog-headed and irresponsible. Everything we spoke of before still stands.

Please forgive me, and I hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend,

Abiene

Aravi folded the note and held onto it. I might be going to Chorrol tonight. First I need a bath at the very least.
She ordered a room and a bath prepared for her. She resisted the urge to scratch when she felt another pest bite her. “Do you have any chilled water to drink?”

[mALX]

*

Eyja flushed and quickly conjured her armor on herself. Her short skirt and low cut top worked very well for the role of prostitute, and donning it aided in bringing out the light-hearted flirtatious personality she needed to portray to make the disguise believable. For decades now she’d lived as a chameleon, donning disguises and immersing herself in whatever role was needed to get the job done.

Armor, especially hers in particular; stripped one of their roles and disguises. It bared all pretences in both the wearer and those facing the one in it. Hers was made specifically for the business she had spent most of her life at; every aspect of it designed to enhance or ease the job at hand first, then shield and protect her.

The armor was Daedric, a dull dark mesh to blend her into the shadows or night; so fine and light it fit as a second skin, and was just as supple and soundless; yet strong enough to resist the penetration of a blade or arrow in many instances. The utility belt was specifically rigged with gear to overcome obstacles getting to a target and aid in a speedy escape afterward.

She slid her travel pack onto her back and clipped a metal bracing on her belt around the rope before climbing out the window and sliding smoothly to the ground behind Seth.

Silently indicating the steep incline before them, Eyja squatted down beside the body and slid her hand underneath it, casting a Feather spell from below it so no magic would show in the air and give away their presence behind the inn. The man would be much easier to lug up the steep incline now. She soundlessly signaled her readiness to Seth.


** Eyja’s armor (with a few exceptions); Eyja’s has no cape, and the utility belt in the screenshot that is angled across the girl‘s shoulders is worn around the waist on Eyja‘s armor. Eyja does not wear the bulky gauntlets or boots either:



http://i434.photobucket.com/albums/qq67/Ma...zps5eeb2de5.jpg




*

This post has been edited by mALX: Jul 21 2013, 02:42 AM

[Black Hand]

As a dark shape slid down the rope, his eyes adjusted to the form as she landed. For a moment he thought she had just gone nude to spite his offer. Until he realized that it was some sort of skintight substance over her. Daedric perhaps? He had seen similar variations from various conjurers over his travels. Daedra in their most basic form, actually had no form. They could assume whatever shape they wished. Or at least the more powerful ones.

They were immaterial, spirits. Until they weren't. When within a sphere of a particular Prince; or worse, Nirn, then they sort of took shape like gravity drew objects down. So Daedra summoned as a weapon or armor could have it's shape altered to the will of the caster, if they were skilled enough. Or if the power granted held that shape within it's incantations.

He'd not cast a spell for decades. A century perhaps. He had various 'powers' that he had accumulated over the years. But they were mostly passive. He became nearly invisible in shadow, due to 'Mephala's Skill'; his reward from the Tong for gathering the Tokens of Sanguine. Almalexia had given him an ability to resist paralysis of magickal origin, and his own inherit Dunmer resistance to flames and extreme heat.

No, his passion for the magickal art had become Alchemy. It amazed him how compounded things held such powerful, inherent qualities. Every time he moved to another province, it was like he was learning the art anew. Different way to mix brews, different methods of extracting it's properties, and new ones to identify. Nearly anything that a mage could shoot from their fingertips, he could replicate chemically and either drink or apply to a weapon. Indeed, he kept a vial belt across his chest for the most commonly needed ones at quick disposal.

As she casted feather on the body and signalled, he picked up the package with almost too much force, his muscle memory expecting it to be as heavy as the live man she had paralyzed. He flung it over his shoulder, and the body folded at the waist. They began their crouched ascent the incline, preparing to enter the ruins in short measure.

When he was sure they were out of earshot of the Inn, he finally voiced a concern that had occurred to him mid-trip.

"Are these ruins empty?" He whispered.

[mALX]

*

OOC: (fixed the armor screenshot in MS Paint so it is less revealing, lol).


Eyja hadn’t missed Seth’s initial startled reaction to her armor. She had felt the same shock the first time she put it on. It had taken one good stealth mission to appreciate it fully, though she’d always felt the honor of having received it. Only Foxy’s highest ranked assassins were given the armor.

She crept silently beside Seth, her body low to the ground as she kept pace with him. At his question she nodded briefly and whispered her answer back.

"Unless someone else is making a disposal here as we are. This ruin used to be a prime spot to dispose of things one didn’t want found again. It drips lime inside, so there is almost no odor when packages are delivered here.”

She indicated the cracked stone steps down into the collapsed enclosure.

“The door to the vault is down there. There is barely room for one of us to go in, and you won’t get far once inside; the entire dungeon is collapsed within yards of the entry. There are probably bones scattered on the floor, and it is pitch black in there; night vision helps.”


*

[King Coin]

Aravi barely had time to drink her water before she was informed her room was prepared.

“I’ll be back down in a bit,” she said to Kayla. Her muscles already began to grow stiff from the short period of inactivity. She climbed the stairs and went into her room, shutting the door behind her.

She didn’t even strip out of her underclothes before getting into the hot bathwater. She groaned luxuriously as the hot water immediately went to work on her muscles. They even perfumed the water like I asked before.

She got out of her soaking clothes and laid them over the edge of the tub. She washed her hair, and particularly, the torn ear. The soap stung, and she hissed quietly. She rinsed the soap off of her head and went to work scrubbing the rest of her body.

She would have liked to soak in the warm waters, but the dirt from her body turned the water murky. She stood and wrapped a towel around herself. She quickly dried off and put on a blue robe. It was the only scrap of clothing that she had with her that was clean now. She went down the steps again, wondering who she would see.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

"Yeah, alright." Kayla said to Aravi as she went upstairs. She cleared her throat and waited. She too had asked for a bath, and supposed that it might take just as long for hers to be prepared and heat up. Her eyelids drooped slightly as she rested her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hands. She awoke with a start when she felt herself leaning to the right slightly. She shook her head, specs of dried blood falling onto the bar.She flushed red as the barman opened his mouth. She interrupted him.

"If it helps, that's not mine?" She left an inflection at the end of the sentence and punctuated it with an embarrassed smile. The man hurried off.

Probably to get some scalding hot water.

She was suddenly vaguely aware of the man next to her. She looked over and was startled to find that he was studying her very intently. She stared back for a few moments and absently scratched at the flakes of blood itching her neck.

- - -

Stefan watched the Altmer intently, still sipping his wine. He let out a small smile when she nearly fell over from exhaustion, then shook herself hard enough for specks of the blood droplets to dirty the bar.

He found her magnificent, her and the Khajiit that walked through the door. He had a weak spot for warrior women, for any woman who allowed herself to become strong. She was the the type of woman that he longed to write about. Long hair flowing in the wind as she gripped her steel sword tightly, charging enemies and beheading them with a single stroke. Magickal powers beyond what any man could fathom. And surely these women bedded their partners with utter abandon. Loved like they fought. Taught muscles rippling beneath smooth skin as they reached their peak of pleasure, the-

Stefan sniffed, then sniffed again. He covered his nose. He would leave the odor out of his books. His eyes still danced over her facial features as she caught him staring, a slightly bewildered look on her face. Her eyes were a light brown, and soft with an edge of steel about them. Her lips were full and pink, whitened only once when she pressed them together in thought or confusion. The curvature of her neck reminded Stefan of a swan as she cocked her head to listen to to her fellow Altmer. She followed him up the stairs, casting a look back at him.

Did he see longing? Interest? Curiousity? He turned back to his wine and drank the rest of it and ordered dessert.

- - -

Kayla followed Hethelion up the stairs.

"Thank you so much. Did you see that man staring at me? It was kind of creepy."

Hethelion coughed to cover up his laughter. Kayla shrugged and stepped inside the room. She thanked the man again and shut the door. She shed her armor and underclothes and all but dove into the tub.

[Darkness Eternal]

Irvana went around the grounds of the Inn, exploring and allowing her curiosity to take hold. There were many places of interest to be found, and many lovely spots to relax such as the pond. This was only on the outside, the inside was impressive. Impressiveenough to attract an influx of foreign people to the area for festivities.

That would be pleasant, she thought. The Wobbly Goblet would succeed even more with coin and the people would be attracted to the parties and events. She had to admit it was a good idea that the Breton had to introduce a holiday. She would be more than happy to contribute with coin if nescessary. All she had to do was establish herself and acquire the septims.

She walked around the edge of the inn and out into the roads casually without the book she borrowed, and in the distance she could see three figures that lifted her heart.

They survived! Irvana rejoiced. Though she didn't recognize the blond woman at first, she saw it was no other than Vera.

Hmm. With the three combined, it is most likely the task was at last finished and the vampire menace destroyed.

The khajiit looked almost naked and she walked as if she'd wandered throughout Tamriel without so much as stopping. She looked exhausted and with good reason! They were gone for so long.

Kayla looked peeved and tired, dried blood smeared over her face like painting of a child. She must have been injured badly, but not badly enough that her life was forfeit.

Irvana remained in shadow beside the tree, casually watching as the trio entered the inn with haste as if was their home sweet home. Part of her wanted to go there and give Kayla and Aravi a hug and embrace them to give them thanks. Gold would suffice but those women chose to sacrifice leisure for battle. They wanted to do this. Otherwise they would've rejected the idea and went on with their lives. But she doubted they would want a young woman fawning over them after they had a rough day.

Perhaps later after they bathe and settle in.

The night seemed much more . . . secure now. Much safer. But there was something yet there. Her instincts told her enough that something was amiss and danger still lurked. She couldn't place her finger on it but it was as if a piece of a functional tool went missing. Her keen mind raced and all of her surroundings and images captured by her mind in the last recent hours came into play.

She hasn't seen Stefania or Lleris . . .

Irvana pondered on what might have been. There was so much to learn by returning to the inn. She already heard everything she needed about the Dunmer and the Nord woman. They certainly were an interesting couple, if she could say so herself.

There are things Irvana needed, and that was inside the Wobbly Goblet. Going out into the night could wait. There was so much to invest. She took pace and returned to the inn shortly after the trio entered and left their seperate ways to go in their rooms.

She sat by the fireplace and paid much attention to the group of farmhands making a mess of things through the door, and the conversation between the argonian and the breton.

Aravi wearing a robe, and was talking to Stefan. Irvana wondered if Kayla had retired to bed. She certainly was an interesting one . . . especially with Dawnbreaker.

Oh yes, Irvana knew what the sword was. That glow, that power contained in that single destructive vessel. Part of her wondered how many undead lives it took, part of her wondered how many fell by Kayla's hand. All of her wondered just how she acquired the blade and if Meridia speaks to her . . . about everything and anything. That right there is the ultimate question.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Jul 23 2013, 01:51 AM

[Black Hand]

Sethyas nodded, and followed her instructions. His night vision of course made sense that he'd move forward with the task.

Approaching the vault entryway, he pushed the heavy ancient door in with his foot. The creak opened into a description that matched hers.

How many of these are her handiwork? He thought to himself, with a small measure of professional admiration, stepping over the the various macabre remnants.

An unnamed graveyard, for an unnamed man.He thought darkly, as he dropped the package near a drip.

Unwrapping the corpse, he placed it near a pool of water that turned lime into quicklime that would help break the body down quickly.

He looked at the mans face one last time. Your story may as well have been mine. He thought.

"Had I given in to the temptation; succumbed to the worst of myself in the hardest of times, which is easy to do...this might be me here in your place. In this, I hold my judgement. But you are not blameless either. Nor am I, or anyone who is the cause. As far as I'm concerned, if death was to be your penalty, you've paid your debt. The rest is out of either of our hands now." Sethyas whispered, pulling out a few coins, an old rusty iron dagger, some foodstuffs, and a small draught of brandy.

He placed these objects in the mans waistband, and rolled the corpse into the water.

"I picked that dagger up at the beginning of a journey...may it serve you well in yours." he offered, finishing with saying some silent prayers.

Exiting the chamber, he nodded to Eyja.

"It's done."

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Jul 21 2013, 05:20 PM

[Darkness Eternal]

Vera Castius thanked Kayla and Aravi for the journey, though she didn’t bother apologizing for any grievances she might have committed during their hunt.

She climbed the stairs, walked through the hall and opened the door to her room where the smell of burning scented herbs, Jacinth and Rising Sun and animal and dirt impacted her nose with such force that she froze in place. It didn’t take her long to see that her lover was on a Spirit journey, a vision quest.

He’s contacting the spirits. The ancestors. But for what?

Most mages who desired to enter Oblivion dedicated time and effort to find means into the dangerous world beyond and behind Nirn. Great power is but a requirement to venture forth in another realm; power that if sought, could corrupt.

She was told long ago by Lycus that his first brush with the otherworldly forces came from his slave master’s daughter, who was fascinated with Oblivion and the Daedra and even made efforts to open a portal into another realm when he was yet a slave to the Telvanni in Morrowind.

Those days, combined with his extensive knowledge on the totems that helped alter and direct new powers of Lycanthropy in new directions years later, helped him achieve the ability to peek through the veil and enter Oblivion by connecting his own spirit.

Vera closed the door behind her gently and locked it. Lycus was unaware of her presence. His body was there, his eyes open and staring into nothing in particular. His consciousness, however, was somewhere else entirely.

She sighed. Of all places and times, he chose this moment and in an inn, no less. Lycus you handsome fool . . .

She undressed, tossed her clothes aside and went to take a bath when she found the tub empty. Her jaw tensed and she let out another long sigh as she scratched her head.

Good to know my husband thinks of me while I am gone.

The smell of blood, sweat and body odor was too strong for her and she wanted nothing more to wash away the blood and smell from her body. She couldn’t call the Altmer housekeep into the room, not when Lycus is summoning spirits and walking the bridge between realms in the very room. It wasn’t dangerous in the sense that whatever would be conjured would go wild. He’s not summoning Daedra, but even still she couldn’t anticipate the reaction from the others would be anything like admiration.

Naked, sweaty and with dried blood smeared all over Vera looked out the window and saw the great wilderness before her. I should’ve taken a bath in that waterfall but the khajiit was unwilling to swim in water where a corpse floated.

And just like that, the answer came to Vera. She rushed to the window and remembered. There’s a pond just outside.

[King Coin]

Aravi saw only the Imperial remained at the bar. Kayla must have gone for a bath as well. Vera is, no doubt, with her husband.

Aravi sat near the Imperial, only an empty seat in between them. She sat carefully on the bar stool, the robe she ware restricted her movement some. She ordered a meal and some water.

She spoke to the Imperial, “Hello, I’m Aravi. Did you see where my friend went?”

[mALX]

*

Eyja raised her hand in an almost universal signal for silence and pointed in the direction of the fishing pond. It was quite a ways from the ruin, but sounds carried well in the night here; as if the foggy mist rising from the forest were a wall they echoed back from.

Her ring of Detect Life had shown a sole diminutive figure, from this distance it was no more than a sliver of pink. She couldn't even make out if it was human or a deer from the forest getting water at the pond; but didn't like taking unnecessary chances.

Eyja stepped to the side to let him lead the way, keeping crouched low to the ground.


*

This post has been edited by mALX: Jul 21 2013, 06:47 PM

[Black Hand]

Seth reacted swiftly and silently. His trait activated, and the shadows seemed to writhe around him as Mephala's Skill enveloped him, becoming one with the darkness. It didn't do him much good for those pesky 'detect life' spells, but usually they were used in response to a noise.

Something he did not make when he sneaked around.

He took a slightly longer arc than the beeline they made to the ruins, putting more distance between them and the pond.

Approaching the Inn's room window from which they had exited. He looked around once more, to ensure there was none around. To be doubly cautious he grabbed a vial from his chest bandolier and lifted his scarf to imbibe the potion.

A simple invisibility potion and his form was unseen.

He approached the rope that was nearly invisible in the darkness as well, and climbed up swiftly and silent.

[mALX]

*



Eyja didn't have a potion, and casting a spell would have stirred the air with sound and magicka, drawing attention to her presence more than aiding her in hiding it. The crescent moon and shadow of nearby trees and bushes would have to make do for cover as she shimmied up the rope behind Seth.

He coiled the rope soundlessly as he pulled it in, lifting it up and away from the ledge so the rope hung straight down as it was raised and never slapped the wall. Eyja watched the motion of his hands and tried to memorize the movement, intrigued by how silently he was able to manipulate the sturdy rope.

His skills were intriguing, even more so because he seemed to rely on something within himself; like a sixth sense. Foxy had that same skill, he sensed danger as if it was a tangible scent in the air.

Eyja lacked those instincts, though she had tried hard to hone them over the years. Where she had to rely on enchantments and gadgetry, men like Seth and Foxy only needed their senses. It was an extremely rare ability, even amongst assassins.

There was a wide gulf between herself and both Seth and Foxy when it came to skill and experience. As the one that trained her, Foxy had seen her rise from nothing and was proud of her growth and progress; but Seth had just met her, he only had the benefit of what was before his eyes.

Against other assassins in Cyrodiil she may be one of the better ones, but beside Seth; Eyja knew she must appear gauche and inept, amateurish. She only hoped he didn't find her that way.

Eyja quietly closed the window and latched it when Seth stepped back from it with the rope in a neat coil.

“The other assassin will be back, I’m sure they know by now that they’ve missed their mark. Either myself or my charge may have been the target, but with so many at the inn there is no way of knowing who was intended till they strike again.“

Now that it was over, he may want to know what brought her to his room. Eyja turned to him before he could ask.

“That poisoning this morning is actually the reason I was originally coming to see you. I was on my way to your room and just happened to notice the waiter checking the steps for sound, not a usual practice for a waiter in a tavern. When I saw the apples retained their redness after cooking, I didn’t want to wait till he’d breached your door, just acted on impulse to contain him.“

Eyja continued talking as she dug the list of ingredients needed for Abiene out of her pack.

"I don‘t know how it is in the other Provinces, but here in Cyrodiil only the higher skilled Alchemists know of this poison or are capable of making it. The Healer will need an Alchemist to cleanse it from her bloodstream, and I’m not skilled enough to make the potion for her. She may end turning to the same Alchemist who made the poison, and could be in danger if they are involved with the assassin or their organization. She may end up marked in case she can identify whoever was at the inn this morning.”

She carefully removed the fragile parchment and opened it , laying it on the dresser for Seth to read the list of ingredients.

“These are the ingredients she’ll need, but those at the bottom can only be found in the other Provinces. I wondered if you might happen to have any of these from your travels that you’d be willing to sell me.”

While he scanned the list Eyja remembered something she thought he should be warned of.

“I should mention too, there is some highly contagious viral disease being passed around in Chorrol that originated at this inn. It seems to be passed through close contact, not airborne. I've been chewing on Mandrake root to ward myself from catching it, and have plenty extra if you need some.”


*

This post has been edited by mALX: Jul 22 2013, 12:35 AM

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Stefan turned his head and smiled a close-mouthed smile at the Khajiit.

"The Altmer with the Nordic accent? Curious one, she is. Yes, she went upstairs to wash off the grime, I'm assuming."

He turned to her fully and, as he did, leaned an elbow on the bar and rested his head on his closed fist.

"What brings two beautiful and dirtied women to this little inn?"

[Black Hand]

He couldn't quite put his finger on what seemed to be bothering Eyja after they returned. She seemed to be studying his movements. Something that became an automatic trait after a while, in this line. The difference between assassins and thugs were night and day.

Anyone could pick up a blade and murder an innocent. They were usually called Dark Brothers and Sisters and gave the Order a seemingly inexhaustible supply of inept henchmen. Thugs. Little training and less sense.

Perhaps she was put off by the exotic nature of his armor and speech. Again, he couldn't quite put a finger on it. He figured they would be a little less formal given the extreme; yet normal to them, nature of the experience they just shared, but whatever reasons she held back was her concern. Being reserved was a quality he fully respected.

If nothing else, she had proven indispensable and resourceful given that he may as well have never been here before.

He removed his hood as she remarked that the other Assassin would be back.

"Aye. If they're a professional; as it certainly seems to be by your take. Your instincts are razor-sharp. My wit has been dulled by long travel and...recent events." His eyes involuntarily flitted to the nightstand for a split second, before turning to consider her list and her words.

He went to his travel pack and pulled out what looked like a large leather book, but was actually a satchel of sorts. He also pulled out a logbook, and put an inkwell and reed dip pen on the desk.

He set the satchel on the bed carefully, and unbuckled the strap, and it unfolded once into two large sections. He unfolded the second section, and the satchel now lay flat with dozens and dozens of small pouches with names stitched into their face.

His eyes flitted back and forth over her list.

Corkbulb Root.

"Aye! Excellent for 'Cure Paralyzation' potions, and restoratives. Also used for arrows and bolts out in Morrowind...No negative properties at all...yes, I have some."

Netch Leather

"Not on me, no." He said, followed by a sudden realization. "Oh, wait." He looked at his right cuirass under-wrap sleeve, with a loose piece of leather that he hadn't had the opportunity to mend yet. He cut a decently large piece off. "Here you go...uh...no charge."

Scrib Jelly.

"Yes...no...I'm afraid I ate the last of it soon before I arrived. Shame, excellent for mages and cures...perfect for healers...but I'm kind of the opposite."

Scamp Skin

"Bloody Scamps. I could skin them all!" he muttered under his breath, and went to the pouch with that name.
"Ehhh...no, none in stock." he shook his head.

"But--" he said, opening his logbook. "I do have 'daedra skin' it's not the same thing, but you see the effects are quite similar." He said, bringing the page into view, and pointed out his notes.

"Scamp Skin has the 'cure paralyzation' effect, and the 'restore strength' effect. Whereas, Daedra Skin has the 'cure common disease' effect, and 'fortify strength' effect." He thought aloud.

"So the nerve damage most commonly associated with metal poisoning wouldn't be treated with that effect, nor the muscular tissue damage....but it would prove a decent, temporary substitute with the 'fortify strength' effect, letting the body continue its normal healing process, rather than with a diminished one..." he was mostly thinking aloud and continued to the next item on the list.

Kwama Cuttle

"Indeed. Excellent for 'Resist Poison' and aquatic potions: 'Water Breathing and walking'. Here you are." He said going through the appropriate pouch.

Ash Yam.

"Yes, actually. I keep a few with me at all times for emergency rations. They don't spoil and are actually quite beneficial to overall health as well." He said going through his travel pack. He grabbed a small burlap bag and handed her two.

And now the coup de grace. He thought sarcastically, and opened the window just a crack and sat down on the ledge. He pulled out a rolled hackle-lo leaf, lit it, and took a puff, his face becoming encircled with the exhaled smoke. A restorative plant from morrowind, it was usually chewed by the locals with great enthusiasm.

When the Imperials came in with their tobacco for trade, it was immensely unpopular to the Dunmeri due to it's scent and the fact that they had to deal with ash from the largest volcano in Tamriel as was. They did pick up on using dried hackle-lo in a similar manner however. The smell was considered pleasant by the locals, similar to mountain sage, and was quite relaxing and rejuvenating without the inebriating effects of alcohol, or the addiction associated with tobacco.

"If your statement was leading to whether or not I knew of an Alchemist of that skill level, then yes. I scored a 96 on the Mages Guild assessment. That was over fi--a few years ago. I've learned a few things since then." he said flicking an ash out the window, catching himself from revealing his disproportional age to his appearance.

"I suppose I am now honor-bound to assist you in this endeavor, as it's also bound to get out that I'm here with our latest visitor, I must now consider that my life is also in danger. You've proven yourself to me as an ally, and I pledge myself as one as well. My blades and my skills are at your disposal." He looked out the window into the night sky, tracing constellations paths with his eyes.

Then she mentioned the disease that was being transmitted via close contact.

His eyes flitted involuntarily again.

I worry about a lot of things. Disease is not one of them. He thought wryly.

"I'll be okay. Save it for those who need it. If need be I can easily craft Cure Disease potions....in fact, I have a few you can take with you if you wish. I have no ne--I can replace them easily."

He cursed himself. The travelling and the adrenaline of this last hour was starting to subside making his concentration break.

"I also should get some rest. I'm of little use in this state to you, or myself." He remarked, getting up and putting the 'lo out.

[King Coin]

"What brings two beautiful and dirtied women to this little inn?"

Aravi’s ears flicked. She didn’t expect that sort of greeting. She took a sip of water before she replied. “Vampires. Someone was attacked nearby, so a few of us found their cave and killed them. Who are you? And what brings you here?”