Today in Cyrodiil, spoilers version, TES: 4 Oblivion character accounts & stories Options

[Renee]

Thanks you all, and yes, it will be a Happy New Year in Cyrodiil for him. I'll have to ask Kahreem to consider his actions on this day.

[Renee]

Taking Care of Lex Part IV

11:06 PM Evening Star 31, 3E, Year 433

Days Passed: 127


The Redguard clanks down some hidden stairs, then takes pause to think a moment. What is he supposed to do now that Dairihill did not seem so forthcoming to help him?

... Now that Khajiit in Bravil said I am to forge some sort of letter. Was that it? .. Something like that. I wrote it down, but my book is back at the Count's Arms. Fokke! ....He has just exited Castle Anvil's private area, and entered its Smithy. At first, he does not see the other Redguard before him, for the other one stands across the room in darkness.

"Orrin, my Hammerfell brother. I could not find the lady of whom I was supposed to speak to .... about .... ahmm .... getting this writ signed for the Count of Bravil.".... He says this hoping Orrin won't notice there's two bottles of Cheap Wine missing from one of the wine racks in the next room.

"Looking for the steward, are you? Her office is in the private chambers, but she's not there much. You can find her in the audience chamber in the mornings. She dines with the Countess from evening's eighth bell until midnight."

"Ah of course. The audience chamber. Glad you have told me where I can meet the steward known as Dairihill, so I can get this writ signed. Skooma dealer. The Count of Bravil wants the head of the most prolific skooma dealer in all Cyrodiil. And this skooma dealer is also the Redguard who's been blazing through the Thieves Guild, under direct command of the Grey Fox himself. So, I shall go to meet this steward tomorrow, and get this damned writ signed."

"Shadow hide you."

*CLANK*

-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[

12:03 AM
It is not long into the Year 434, three minutes into this final year of the Third Era, when Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer stands outside Castle Anvil, gazing to the east, staring at one of Cyrodiil's long-abandoned Imperial forts. Well, 'long-abandoned' by Imperial legions, anyways. Over the last few years, chances are a place like this would now be inhabited by bandits, or some sort of outlaws. Heathens who deserved arrest, or worse.

Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer downs his first bottle of Cheap Wine while standing on the bridge between Anvil's village and castle, drinking to the new year. He gazes at the Imperial fort up on the hillside.

-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[

9:45 AM

"Good morning," says the Dunmer, glad to have lived another year in Cyrodiil.

"What's new with you?" answers his friend, a fellow Dunmer, but a lady, not a man. These two had been living up here at the fort known as Strand now for two weeks, and life had never been better.

....clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank....

"Rumor has it that the Nerevarine has been on an expedition to Akavir, and has not been heard from since."

"It can't be!" answers the lady, truly shocked. As former inhabitants of Morrowind, she and he both know that the Nerevarine was a foreign, bearded man who wore robes, who often fought with his bare hands. Why would he have risked his life by going to Akavir? "This is most troubling news!"

"If you say so."

But such news wasn't really so troubling. Life, after all, had been good here at Fort Strand. The land of Morrowind was now long behind them, and it had been easy to re-locate here in Cyrodiil. All they had needed was a sturdy boat, a good stash of stolen supplies, and within days they had found their new home. The best part? A local gang of phony prostitutes had recently been taken down by an adventurous, red-headed Nord, a do-gooding, righteous [censored] of a woman. Oddly enough, this had only helped the situation of the bandits living up at Fort Strand. After all, those 'prostitutes' had been competition, stealing (possibly killing) males who could instead become targets of theft, assault, or worse for the bandits of Strand.

....clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank....

"Without question."

"Heard any news from the other provinces?"

The red-headed Nord who had taken responsibility for ridding Anvil of its phony prostitute ring had also rid Fort Strand of its inhabitants as well, though the place had quickly re-populated. Hard not to, at such an ideal location, literally overlooking the goldmine which is Anvil.

....clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank....

"Nothing I'd" ... "Must have" ... "like to" ... "been the" "talk about." "wind."

"So long."

....clank clank clank clank clank clank CLANK ....

"Well now, LOOK WHO WE HAVE HERE!"

"To arms! TO ARMS!"

"I am Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer, and you are all UNDER ARREST. Uh... unless you pay the fine, of course. So what's it gonna be? .. Will you pay the fine? Go to jail? Or resist arrest?!?"

"Jump on my sword while you can!" screams the Bosmer man, readying his bow. The female also readies a bow, but she decides to duck behind one of Fort Strand's stone partitions while she does so. The man, on the other hand, blocks Strand's entrance, unafraid of this sudden Imperial Legion.

"STOP! You violated the law! Pay the court a fine or SERVE your sentence. Your stolen goods are now FORFEIT!"

"I'm just WORMING UP, you pathetic WURM!" he fires a shot, which easily misses the soldier with the Redguard accent.

"THEN PAY WITH YOUR BLOOD!"



Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer draws his sword, and marches upon the Dunmer with the bow, who fires a shot, but misses. Fires another shot, and misses again. Even wearing guard's armor, Kellsgard / Kahreem can move easily, and avoid the arrows of his opponents.

"Hoo-aaaah!" twick! .... dnnk!

"You should have PAID THE FINE," Kellsgard says, taking a grand swing of his pirate's cutlass. This swing misses, as the Dunmer re-positions himself. But since he is holding his bow with an arrow nocked, he moves too slowly, and takes a blow from the cutlass. woo! wooh! PLNKTH!

"Ahhhh!" .. "Let's get this over with!" "WHY ... WON'T .... YOU....Ahh!" "Give it up, Dunmer scum!"

With these words, the Redguard manages a series of blows with his cutlass. The Dunmer man clumsily switches from bow to blade, but by the time he's got his daggar ready, it's already over for him, so Kahreem now turns to the lady-Dunmer.

"You dare oppose the might ... OF THE IMPERIAL LEGION!?"

"Do your worst! Reeahhh!" *CLANG!*

Kahreem rushes down the hill, while (again) the lady with the bow misses her shots. But he quickly catches up to her while the Dunmer lady switches from bow to daggar, then begins swinging upon his shield and armor again and again! thwick twhick clank! Kellsgard realizes that her efforts are barely felt by him. And this gives him confidence.



"I'll hack you to pieces!!" she warns.

"That blade against my shiny tin suit? Ha!...Good luck with that!" wooh wooh CLINK!

"Ooogh!!"

"FORRRR THE EMPIRE!" *CLANG!*

As Kahreem strikes this final blow, and ends the life of the Dunmer trash in less than a minute, he then gazes back up the hillside, and realizes the opportunity before him.

"The Year 434 is going to be a good year," he decides.






This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Jan 18 2015, 02:52 AM

[mirocu]

Kahreem better watch out! He might end of genuinly good after having pretended to be for such a long time


But what´s that I see in the pic? He could choose to talk to that Bandit Bow-woman..?

[Renee]

I also kinda screwed up because it wasn't two Dunmer in that story, it looks like it was a Dunmer man, and Bosmer woman. Oh well. That was a pretty exciting story to write, it's hard to get all the facts straight in the heat of the moment.

- @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @


Tirdas, 1:51 pm Heartfire 4, 3rd Era 433




"You're not afraid of trouble, are you? You'd like the Fighter's Guild."

"Do you think? .. Do you think I might be okay, in the Fighter's Guild? Somebody like me?"

"If you're looking to join up, you should speak with Vilena Donton in Chorrol, Azzan in Anvil, or Burz gro-Khash in Cheydinhal."

The Breton looks at the dark elf before her with more confidence now, and is not quite so nervous. Apparently, they had been right, 'they' being various random people here in Cyrodiil. The Fighters Guild is indeed hiring new members, and is very eager to staff their ranks with new recruits.

"Training, beds, and good haahd work. Just can't beat it."

The rumor had also been going that the Fighter's Guild wasn't so particular about who they hired. "Well if you'll accept me, I would love to join." Anybody wiling and able, anybody who had the 'stones for it', could simply walk in and become a new member. This dark elf's words were final proof.

"If you're interested, see Vilena Donton in Chorrol, or Azzan in Anvil, or Burz gro-Khash in Cheydinhal," the dark elf repeats patiently.

"Oh, many apologies. I will try finding Vilena, at the very least. Hello my lady. Might you be Vilena?" *

"Greetings, how may I help you? Are you perhaps interested in joining the Fighters Guild?"

"Ah, fellow Breton, this I am. Interested. In joining the F-Fighter's Guild?" she nearly stammers ... "If you would accept me, that is. I - I just rid the bandits located under Chorrol by the way, if this should give you reasoning."

But there's apparently no question in Vilena's mind, she doesn't seem to notice the Breton's nervous demeanor at all. "The Fighters Guild is a brotherhood of warriors. We provide a service to Tamriel, lending steel and shield to those who need our help.

"Yes! And I am eager to do so."

"Whether that means ridding a town of an invading menace or protecting a helpless mage, we'll take the contract."

"So that is all then? ... No test to prove myself worthy, or any such thing as this?"

"The Fighter's Guild is always looking for new members. If you've got a clean record, and don't have a bounty on your head, we may be able to use you. . Are you interested in joining?"

"Yes! But..."

"Excellent. You are now an associate of the Fighter's Guild..."

"Yes okay but...."

"You should report to either Azzan in Anvil, or Burz- gro-Khash in Cheydinhal, for contracts."

"Do you not even want to know my name? Who I am? .. Joan of Arkay at your service. Devoted follower of the nine, but especially involved within the dealings of life, and after-life. I am keenly interested in the disposings of undead, and the ridding of necromancers and vampires. All miscreants who pollute our precious Tamriel. I have fallible reasons to believe Arkay would prefer I ... perhaps we... target these sort of miscreants above all."

Vilena Donton merely stares at Joan, not having much to contribute on these subjects, apparently.

"And ... that is all. Joan of Arkay, but you can call me Joan, or Joanie. I am glad to be an Associate of the Fighter's Guild, and will try my best not to disappoint."

"Bye."



This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Jan 24 2015, 06:44 PM

[mirocu]

Heh! It´s like they´re giving a badge and a gun to anyone who just happens to show up!


No offense, Joan...

[Renee]

Heh! It´s like they´re giving a badge and a gun to anyone who just happens to show up!


No offense, Joan...

It's okay, I agree with you!

[Lopov]

Lol, Joan wanted to tell Vilena about herself but she just didn't get her chance. When I began reading the story, I at first thought that you created someone new and that this is the introduction.

[Renee]

I am posting an old RG3 update this week (don't hurt me!), but it should be an exciting one. This is the tale of Renee 3's fourth Arena match.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sundas, 10:34 AM, Frostfall 14, 4th Era 20

It takes Renee five minutes to change from one set of armor to the next. All around her are the sounds of weapons clanging, and gladiators sparring. Renee laces up her heavy armor raiment with help from an underling, really liking the way it feels upon her skin. Toughened, she is. She decides here and now that she's going to have Gabrielle carry a set of this armor out of the Arena somehow, if this is allowed. If it is, maybe she'll wear it while adventuring out in the world. Such a set might be not warm enough for the Valus Mountains, but would be decent for some road-walking around the Niben.

Renee returns to speak to her host, down here in the Bloodworks: "Is this better?" she asks, expecting some sort of rudeness in reply, but Owyn has only inspirative words to say.

"Okay Brawler, you know the drill. Head up to that Arena and show 'em who's boss!"

"That it, huh? No... 'my grandma could fight better than that and she's dead' this time, eh? Well good. Would not have to embarrass you once again with the slaughter I am about to present."

"What are you waiting for, go get 'em!"

"They shall taste my silver broadsword, Redguard. Then they shall fall."

Determined green eyes. A poignant stare. Renee had decided after her last fight here that the rare, expensive sword she brought with her from Skyrim gives too much of an advantage. Those first three matches had been far too easy for her, and it seemed the crowds up above weren't as impressed with easy fights. They want some drama. Renee had determined this after betting & watching some fights. So, instead of an �ber-schwert, today she's got an ordinary silver piece which could be found or bought virtually anywhere.

As she walks from the Red Room and up to the Arena's gate, she can virtually feel the gold slipping through her fingers. But she cautions herself anyways....

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11:12 AM
This time it's not raining. Excellent. Renee feels the old anticipation begin to build with every step, and with every step, this anticipation doesn't seem as old ...

"Good people of the Imperial City, WELCOME to the ARENA!" says the loud, booming, unseen voice.

Renee prepares her chakram, and casts a spell which fortifies her armor.

"This match is a battle of the Brawlers!!!! ... as these brave warriors fight .... for glory! ..Combatants..BEGIN!"

It is not raining It is not raining! Renee thinks without being entirely aware. She crouches down like she had done so many times while dungeoneering, crouches so she can better aim her circular chakram. As she sees her opponent begin to run toward in grand steps, Renee expertly throws her weapon, making it go zing!, hoping for some early damage. It doesn't connect unfortuantely, and a moment later it makes its way back into her right hand. So she slings the chakram, then grabs the giant sword off her back, and quickly blocks an early swing from her opponent, who manages to just make it to the Warrior Princess from Skyrim.

Renee's opponent, a Nord female who probably thought she might live another day to tell the tale of how she destroyed some Imperial scum-cheese from Skyrim, wields a longsword, and wears light armor while brandishing a shield.

"Ready for your death, Yellow One?"

"What's the matter getting tired?" she barks in return. Her breath smells of ale.

"Exactly, I am 'getting tired'. Yet after I smear your carcass all over this pit, you might begin to imagine yourself wishing you yourself had just stayed in bed."



Renee does what she did before, and runs out into the middle of the pit, so that all can see what is about to commence! She notices the crowd has thickened a bit* since she last fought here. She gives a quick wave to them, then focuses upon the maggot before her.

"I am offering you to walk away, Yelllow Team scum! Cast aside your weapon, if you know what is best for you, and just give up."

"AAAGHA!"

The two ladies trade blows, and dance around the Arena's perimeter. Renee really decides she's going to make a show of it, and moves around from one side of the floor to the other, allowing the spectators plenty to see. She blocks several swings effectively, then manages a full-body sideswipe against her foe. This causes the Nord with the smelly breath to fall right on her back. Miss Gade then takes her sword and raises it high, but does not aim it at the Yellow Team dog.

"'Tis unfair to land a blow upon a fallen oppenent!" she says, allowing smelly-breath to rise. "Come at me again, and it will be the last decision for you to make."

The Yellow Team swords-lady doesn't do so, instead she dashes around Renee's side, quick as can be. Despite some massive pain, the Nordic woman gets a good hit on her. "TAKE THAT!" Renee follows with a quarter swing to the lady's pelvis. "ARRGH!!"

"Try having babies NOW, kurba!"

... "I've fought mudcrabs more fearsome than OOOOH!"

Renee manages a good blow to her opponent, then takes several backward steps and casts a light healing spell, just in case.

"WHY .... WON'T .... YOU ... DIE?" the Nord asks, really starting to lose her patience. She had won her first three matches in less than a week; this Imperial was supposed to be dead by now.

"Because today ... is my lucky day, prasica! I hope you enjoyed that ale you have on your breath, it will be your last."

Four more blows (and this time, Renee does not let up when the lady staggers) and it's all over. * BANG! BASH! CLANG! CLASH! * The Yellow Team Brawler is down, and does not rise. As the crowd begins to cheer, Renee looks to the sky, glad to see only sunshine.

"WE HAVE A WINNER!" announces the unseen voice. "FROM THE BLUE TEAM! ... ALL HAIL THE CHAMPION ... FROM THE BLUE TEAM!"

Renee Gade the third waves, then gives a curtsey to the crowd, lumbering proudly off. She looks up to the stands, where she spots many people, Gabrielle most of all. Renee grins wolf-like to her friend. Gabrielle does not return a grin of her own.

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11:39 AM
Sweat and blood, blood and sweat. The Warrior from Skyrim feels about as good as a sword-master can be. Energy swirls through her veins, an energy which is difficult to discern, whether it is magical or simply physical. But despite all of this, she is greeted by a rather dour Redguard, who stands nonchalantly, as though he's wondering what he'd like to have for lunch.

"Four wins is okay kid, but it don't make you Grand Champion." Owyn's tone, Renee notices, is not nearly as acidic as it was the last three times she had won a match, but neither is it as ecstatic, like the way she feels. " Here's your payout," he says, as if he's doling wages to somebody with a job much more mundane. A cobbler or stablehand, perhaps. "Now go clean yourself up before your next match."

"Um yeah. Well gee, thanks. Hey, Owyn, could you be any more dour? I just won four in a row, straight, with no quitting walkouts. Tell me with a straight face that anybody else has performed such a feat, lately, eh? A little more enthusiasm would not hurt. I might become your star pupil, Redguard."

"What-ever you say, whelp. I am not impressed. Don't make me demote you back to Pit Dog. I'll do it too. Watch."

"Grab some papyrus, Redguard, and then grab a quill and some ink. Do all this so you can write down the very words you are going to eat later on, once Arena match number five definitely falls under my garters. I'll do it too. Watch."

And with that, Renee turns heel and strides away, leaving Owyn the Blademaster standing speechless.



This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 26 2023, 02:19 AM

[mirocu]

Don´t worry, Renee. We won´t hurt you....



T´was a good story, I like her dedication and sense of showmanship.. But that spoiler thing didn´t work. Though I guess it had to do with a crowd filler mod...


Edit: Now the spoiler thing worked

This post has been edited by mirocu: Feb 1 2015, 10:44 AM

[Lopov]

This is my favorite Renee's story, it's more than just describing a match, good to see her making a show for specators. The ending is great, when she says what she has to say and then repeats what Owyn said "I'll do it too. Watch."

Oh, and the Spoiler works fine for me.

[Grits]

"Jump on my sword while you can!" screams the Bosmer man, readying his bow.

Kahreem was in rare form, clanking around in his Legion armor. He has all of the lines down perfectly!

Renee has a great attitude. I love her interactions with Owyn.

[Renee]

Thanks you all, and here is this week's story. I drank too much coffee while me and my family were out shopping yesterday, and wound up having a small panic attack. Coffee really is a drug, or rather caffeine is. Anyways, that happened 18 hours ago, but I still feel just a smidge of *something* going on with my head, like it blew a fuse or something, so no Kahreem this week. Creativity takes too much brain-power.

Here is another RG3. It is a journal update written by Haili, an Altmer mage added by CM Partners 2.0. Haili is the one in red, of course. It is now Frostfall 27, nearly 2 weeks after Renee's fight up above. Haili and Renee, and whoever is with them are apparently now very far from the Imperial City when this gets written.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - - -- - - - - -- - - - -- - - - -- - - - --

Frostfall 27, early afternoon

I feel so lucky! I have just been hired to follow a young adventuring lady! Her name is Renee Gyde, and she is from Skyrim, come to explore and do good deeds in the lands of Cyrodiil. She saw me, saw my skills with magical efforts, and I am hired!. No more standing around the Mage's Guild, no more Cheydinhal. I feel so free and alive to be out in the world! Finally! I must tell the others when I return.

Currently standing upon the crest of a mountain, somewhere above Cheydinhal, and am with another, a dark elf she found over at the Fighter's. Seems okay. We have boeth both been relegated to standing around outside of a mine known to the locals as 'rickety'. To get here, we had to climb the side of the mountain itself. Got attacked twice: once by a large wolf, and later by a lone bandit. We showed him! .a I was able to show my skills at conjuring and desturtinng both at once! I think Renee is pleaseed!

She wants us to wait here, me and the dunmer, and I am ever so grateful! Renee and the Khajiit have gone inside rickity. Oh, she also had a cat-lady with her. An archer. Found in Chorrol. Supposed to be an ace with a bow. Anyway the two of rthem have gone into the mine, and we are their reinforcements. In case things go wrong. T If such a thing happens, Renee and the cat lady will come BURSTING out of that mine, and I can utilize my hefty skills again! I hope this happens!

~Much later~

We have been underground now for ages! I have no idea how long, but it feels like a day has passed. But she chose me! Renee chose ME to accompany her into the depts of rickety mine. My magical skills plus her brawny sword-fighting make a great strategy indeed. All the bandtis have perished by our hands! Renee has given me four silver coins, worth 20 gold each! This is so much fun!

But. I do hope she awakes soon. I truely do. Am getting bored hanging around this cold, dark cave. How do the bandits and outlaws do it?

This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Feb 8 2015, 12:56 PM

[Lopov]

Haili sounds very ecstatic that she can share Renee's company. And his final question is very good, I wonder the same.

[Renee]

She's a little too enthusiastic, isn't she?

It's like, at first she's standing on a mountainside, left outside the cave instead of brought inside where all the action is, yet she's still gushing like she can't believe RG3 picked her. And then she finally gets paid: a measly 80 gold.

This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Feb 8 2015, 07:24 PM

[Renee]

Middas 1:10 pm, Morning Star 2, 3rd Era Year 434

Level: 7
Bounty: 250
Playtime: 161:36:12

* Click *

It is early afternoon when Wilbur the Redguard, owner and proprietor of Anvil's Count's Arms, finally hears the sound he's been listening for.

crawwwk

After living in, working in, cleaning in, and simply being in this inn for so long, an inn which was specifically decorated in the 'Hammerfell way', Wilbur knew every sound his place could possibly emit. Every creak and every clack. And the one noise he had become most accustomed to listening for, after all these years, was the sound made by the door at the top of the second floor; the door which led to the guest's rooms.

Though he tried to hide his obsession, tried to bury his slight paranoia under blankets of hospitality, and talk about his fine wine collection, deep down inside Wilbur had one deep, dark secret: he did not trust anybody. Not a soul. Least of all his guests. Over the years, he had become almost subconsciously attuned to listening for the door above his head. Surely, most folk are nice, most folk just want a room for the night, to escape the harsh realities of the land of Cyrodiil, but that did not mean one must let his guard down. Oh no. Especially a Redguard like himself; a Redguard with everything he wants in life, all of which could be lost in an instant. All it might take was one quiet-footed guest with a daggar to end it all. It could happen at any time, and this was a fact which Wilbur had become keenly aware of, over the past few months.

There was no real harm in any of this, really. All of his guests, over all these years, had been completely hospitable, nothing to worry about. But this didn't mean that THE DAY would come, when he might need to defend himself, or die trying. Perfect example: that red-headed Nord who had been staying here not long ago. It was said she had singlehandedly gotten rid of that prostitute problem which had been occurring here in Anvil. A lot of guests had been talking about this. She had done a good service, and it was the talk of the town. Surely, she could not be anything for a Redguard like him to fear, right?

... But then, even a paladin-type such as she, a citizen who had quickly elevated herself within the eyes of the Umbranox family themselves, could not fully be trusted. A lot of people may have lauded the red-headed Nord for her success, but Wilbur had also paid attention to the few people who were telling a different story, a story in which the red-headed Nord (Dina? Dyna? ... ) had also taken her time to speak the 'prophet' -- that strange, old man who had recently began yelling and screaming in front of the chapel.

Now why would anybody speak to that loony, and not decry his silly words about lost relics and the general return of evil? Can't trust even a holy knight, such as she.

...clump clop clump...

No matter, though. She had gone, just like many others, without a fuss. And now, with the sound of footsteps coming down his stairs, Wilbur springs from his desk, and rushes to the stairs, pasting a look on his face which he hopes looks ordinary.--not too gleeful, and certainly not worried. He hopes (as always) that the look on his face will not betray the feeling of concern which often bloomed inside, whenever one of his very own guests should begin his or her descent down his stairs.

"Hail, Redguard," says Wilbur's latest guest, a Redguard himself.

Wilbur says nothing in return, only stares.

The Redguard guest had shown up hours before, introducing himself as Kellzgard, or something, and plopped down 25 gold for a room. This Redguard had been wearing the full body armor set of an Imperial road soldier, yet now he was dressed in foppish russet felt. Of all the people Wilbur had rented rooms to lately, he trusted this Redguard the least. Who changes from a full armor suit, to the clothes of a dandy?

"Not very talkative, eh innkeeper? Not a problem. I will be on my way," 'Kellzgard' the Redguard says with a quick glance around the foyer. "Fine place you have here, I must say."

Wilbur says nothing in reply.

"Well. Off I go." Another glance around.

And off he went. As 'Kellzgard' the Redguard leaves the Count's Arms, Wilbur can't shake the feeling that the man had just been eyeing the very cheapest examples of his wine collection.

@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9

2:03 PM
The second day of the year 434 is cool and fair, as Kahreem of Weet decides he'll take a stroll through town, headed toward Anvil's castle. He appears nonchalant, but inside he's feeling that old excitement beginning to stir.

"What is it now?"
"Oh. Hullo."

He's also decided (finally) that it would be a really bad idea to keep wearing his guard's armor suit. By now, everyone in the castle could be talking about the strange Redguard who had suddenly appeared from a wall. If Dairihill had opened her mouth about this incident (and it was very likely she had ... who wouldn't?) then Kahreem's cover as a guard trying to get a writ signed for an errant Redguard was now blown.

So instead of heavy guard's armor, he's now wearing what he knows how to wear best: ordinary town clothes. Blending in, instead of standing out.

4:11 pm
The castle's music swirls all around as Kahreem approaches Countess Umbranox's court. He's hoping to see Dairihill, the Countess's steward, but she is nowhere to be found. As he approaches Umbranox, ready to lay out some concoction of a story he'd been thinking over the past 5 minutes, she (and one of her guards) abruptly decide to head up the stairs.

Kahreem rushes after them, hoping to have a word, but by the time he's at the top of the stairs, Umbranox and her protector have already left the room. It'll be useless to try to follow, since the door they depart through is quickly locked. Kahreem looks to one of the guards left standing in the court, and says "Guess Umbranox doesn't have time to hear some exciting news about her long-lost cousin." Kahreem shrugs.

"What?" sneers the guard.

"Oh yes. The countess's cousin has finally been found. Oh.. what? You didn't know she has a cousin? Neither did Uriel Septim himself, or the Arch Mage. Oh yes, I've been to see them all. I do get around quite a bit. They were all so excited to hear the good news."

"You talk such rot."

"Hah! Do I? Well you won't be saying that next week, when you hear about the golden room full of treasure Umbranox's cousin had been rescued from. Yeah, whoever would have thought? ... But of course a treasure room would be the perfect place to keep somebody captive. And that's where they found her, poor thing was starved half to death."

"Why do you bother me, go away!"

"Surely I will, your snide tone of voice notwithstanding. Maybe I'll deliver this important news to the lady later. Remember, you heard it from me first."

The guard has no reply to this. Not his business, nor his concern. But I know the smell of a slippery slaughterfish when I see one, thinks he.

@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9@9

3:44 pm
A few minutes later, and Kahreem of Weet walks by Orrin the smith without a word. No, he will NOT announce to anybody who might be listening that he and Orrin are Thieves Guild. Kahreem strides right by, walks down the red-carpeted hallway, then crouches down in front of the wine rack located across from the castle's secret door.

clop clop clop clop

"Aw Fokke!" he curses. No stealing of wine today.



As he turns round the corner, Orrin the smith turns and glares at Kahreem. "Oh, what? You don't sneak a little wine every now and again and again?" Kahreem whispers. "Look smith, this is Surilie's anyways. Tastes like shoe polish. Not my poison."

"Shadow hide you."

"Huh?" Kahreem says, now speaking in a lighter, much more fey tone of voice, and louder, so anybody listening in might hear him. "Oh no, no shadows in here can hide me, Orrin. This place is very well lit! Pleased to meet you. I am Kahroo-tay, I'm the new interior designer, hired to keep this place up-and-fabulous at all times, and I must say I completely applaud the lack of shadows in Castle Anvil. Well done, ordinary Orrin! Cleanest, most well-lit castle I have visited since my days in Hammerfell."

*rummmble...*

"Ohhhh hmm.. What is this? This pillar seems loose. Why, it's a door! .... Look at that! .. A door located right here in the wall, hidden from view," Kahreem's new, high-pitched voice announces.

"Ha! Very good, I salute you!"

"Oh shank you! This is amazing, sir Orrin. Look at those bare walls, beyond this hidden door, ha! Such a disgrace! But .. it's also an interior designer's dream come true! .... OH, I must take a peek inside. Maybe later, you and I can go flower-picking out on the Gold Coast! ... Just the two of us; the strapping young buck with an oh-so-handsome older man, oh, just pickture this! ... And maybe... heh maybe we can even bring those flowers back here, make this hallway nice and scrumptious and gay! ... Paint those walls, make them so pretty! Oh, I'm so excited! ... What do you think?"

"Shadow hide you," Orrin replies, not at all interested in going flower-picking, and interior decorating, with this tall-tale-telling lunatic.



This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 26 2023, 02:38 AM

[mirocu]

I think it was great to include that bit about Wilbur in the beginning, seeing as he always follows you around like you were a common Thieves Guild representitive with hidden motives and a disguise







That last bit reminded me of that show Fab5 I watched when I just had gotten settled in in my apartment. Why did I watch it, you may or may not ask? I don´t know! It made me have nightmares!

[Renee]

Today's Kahreem session shall be live. Just like the old days. Let's see what happens next.

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Middas, 9:12 pm
Morning Star 2, 3rd Era 434

Days Passed: 129



Music swirls all around. The Weet Bandit makes his way up a dark passageway, inches his way along, somewhere in the Umbranox castle. Stops. Listens. He thinks he hears footsteps coming from ahead. He focuses his hearing further. As well as he can with all this fokkinge music swirling around, anyways.

. ...But there is nobody. Nobody here. Why would there be? .. But one can never be too cautious.

"My ears playing tricks on me."

He creeps further, and comes to the door he had previously found, the one which leads straight into some sort of private housing area. Crouches in front of the door. And begins counting. "One-hundred .... ninety-nine ... ninety-eight..."

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1:02 am

"..three....two...one.... zero. Okay, time to go. Um.... I am the new castle court jester who has lost his way. 'Where am I?'" he practices. "'I am sooo lost in this big, bad castle!' ... Okay okay yes that will work."

He pulls the pillar which opens the hidden door. Rummmm And steps out into the hallway where he had met Umbranox's stewardess the day before. Wow it is bright in here! Kahreem gets a feeling like he is naked for all to see. Quickly crouches down. Does not waste time. Goes straight to the door to his left, and begins his work. He is pretty sure he had seen Dairihill come out of this door, back when he met her here. He had been wearing a full guard's suit at the time, and she had come out of that door, and had been very surprised to see a fully-plated Redguard stepping out of her wall.

"So yeah, this has to be her room. Three tumblers. Must focus."

He is surprised by this lock. A three tumbler this deep inside the castle? Must be something important in there. He is suddenly glad that he was unable to procure (steal, actually...) a bottle of Cheap Wine earlier. This is not a time for sloppy, drunken attempts at lockpicking. He opens his kit, and selects a couple of pieces: a torsion pick to apply pressure on the tumblers, and a hook to attempt to move these tumblers into an unlocked state. Do it right, and the cylinder would rotate.

"Come on, give a kiss to daddy."

He bounces the first tumbler once. Twice. Three times. Tries to get a rhythm going. And hopes nobody is awake and can hear all this racket. Then again, the castle's droning music might very well block his ministrations.

Clclcl ... CLICK! "Got you!"

The first tumbler socks home. He bounces the second one a few times, trying to keep his rhythm, but also tries to place this one in place too early, breaking his hook. "Fokke!" But this is okay. Not only does he have 15 more picks left in his kit. He also is wise enough to know how not to have the first tumbler he picked fall back into a locked position.

Cclclcl CLICK!

It takes him two more minutes, during which he tries his best to not have his palms sweat, before he breaks in. Two minutes, and two more broken hooks. He finds himself in a cozy little room with a desk, a bookshelf, and one of those singing plants. Good. He is happy for the plant, and happy for the music. Plenty of noise to muffle his already-muffled footsteps. He closes the door behind him.

What am I doing?

For a moment, he can't remember, the energy is moving fast within his veins. Then he does remember. He goes for the desk. Gets behind its single drawer and pulls upon it. It is locked, but only by two tumblers. Piece of sweetcake. He is in on his first try, and finds what he is looking for. The letter with the list of candidates for Captain of the Guards in Anvil.

"Need to switch this around, somehow. Make it look like Hieronymus Lex is getting moved here. Get him out of the fokkinge waterfront. Yeah... yeah...."

He grabs this list, and also grabs 10 gold, and some sort of magical scroll. He'll be able to sell this scroll once he's back in Bravil, for sure.

"Hah!!! Yes!"

But then he gets greedy. How can he not, he's in a fokkinge castle. Goes for the next door in front of him, and this one is not locked. He goes inside. Looks to his right, and there's nothing of importance. Looks to his left, and finds a lady, who is sleeping. Probably Dairihill the stewardess. He checks his nerve, and he's got plenty to spare.

He goes for it. Crouches aside the lady, feels for her pockets. There's some gold in there, two keys, and a small booklet. All I want are those keys. He slips his fingers inside, feels their warmed, irony metals. Grabs one, grabs two...

"HELP HELP COME QUICK, WE'VE GOT A BURGULAR!!!"

"No milady, I'm the new court jester! I uh.... um..."

"HELLLP!" her voice is shrill. Dammit, everybody in the place is going to hear her!

"STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!"

"Oh noo.. Fokke!.... Not again...." Kahreem looks back to the door he initially picked, and cannot see anybody. Apparently, the guard is speaking through this door.

"Nobody breaks the law on MY WATCH! I'm confiscating your stolen goods. Now pay your fine, or it's off to jail."



"Hallo sir, I'm the new court jester! Seem to have lost my juggling balls though, can't seem to--uhhhhh--"

"THEN PAY WITH YOUR BLOOD!"

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2:25 am
The guard bursts through the door, and swings his silver sword! .. Kahreem takes a step back, but gets slashed because he has no room to maneuver. "HOOOO LAH!" He has no idea what is happening behind him--will Dairihil the Stewardess start swinging her fists like that fokkinge countess down in Leyawiin?? .. He does not stick around to find out.

The door behind him is still open, and before the guard can complete his second swing, the Redguard is through this door. Bolts down the hallway in a flash, and jumps into its wall! ... He turns around, looks back into the hall .... the guard and Dairihill have not reacted fast enough. They are not here yet. GREAT! He moves the pillar, which slides the wall into place, sealing him within this wall, and keeping the guard and stewardess out. While all of this is going on, Kahreem notices that the castle's music has changed. It's now angrily chanting, instead of droning along sappily.

*SIGH*

He gathers his breath, and crouches slowly forward, while the noises behind him indicate that both people he had just fled are now very confused, as though they have no idea where he went. He hears a door open. Two sets of footsteps rushing all around. He can't help but giggle at their confusion. Apparently, Dairihill has not made the connection yet: there is a door in her stupid wall. If she is aware of this information, she never communicates this to the guard.

Kahreem smiles, and moves forward quickly in the dark. Finds the next door, and clambers through it. Rushes downstairs, and stands before Hidden Door #2. Then he begins to count.

"Fifty ... forty-nine .. forty-eight..... forty-seven...."



This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 16 2022, 05:21 PM

[Lopov]

Things rarely go as planned when Kahreem visits some castle but otherwise we readers wouldn't be able to laugh. My favorite part this time is when the music starts angrily chanting, as if those plants detected that something is wrong in Castle Anvil.

[mirocu]

I wonder if Kahreem ever thought about a career change ...?

[Renee]

I wonder if Kahreem ever thought about a career change ...?

Quote of the year!