Flint Ironwood, Bruma
It was a normal day at the Bruma Siege Division. Brids whistling in the trees on each side of the field, a crisp breeze and above all, creaking wood and earshattering explosion.
“Alright, water!” Flint Ironwood ordered, almost sounding bored. He had come to expect this result and he realized that was a bad thing. He shook his head as he watched the burning wreck of their latest mishap.
“Flogir isn’t going to like this.” He muttered to himself while the siegecrew formed a line and began to throw buckets of water on the fire. The aging Breton waited till the fire had been smothered before he dared approach the siege engine. From afar, he hadn’t been able to see just what went wrong. One moment, they pulled the rope that triggered the catapult, the next the whole thing exploded.
“At least no one has been injured this time. Looks like all the precautions are working. I still wished we could get this to work though.”
Up close, he failed to see anything that could provide a clue towards the cause of the latest disaster.
“Perhaps we just tried a bad canister. Not enough sand, perhaps? Or maybe the bolts let go too soon. Well geez, it could be anything really.” Flint wondered. He picked up a shard of glass from the ground but quickly released it again. He scowled and licked his burned fingers.
“Crap it all. Will this never work?”
Sorian, Colovian Highlands
“Your money or your life!” The Imperial bandit yelled at the Redguard and jumped onto the middle of the route. At the same time, his partner jumped on the road behind the Redguard . They both eyed their victim warily. They knew the reputation of Redguards, how they’d elevated swordplay to a central part of their culture. A Redguard on the battlefield was one of the worst opponents one could face.
But this Redguard was young, inexperienced. Even culture couldn’t substitute years of battle. They believed they could take the Redguard, yet they remained wary.
“I said your money or your life, boy!” The Imperial repeated. The Redguard gave him an angry glare in return.
“Tell me, have you been preying on travellers for a long time?” He asked demandingly. The Imperial saw this as his chance to intimidate the young Redguard.
“For years I’ve been the plague of these lands! Even the legion is fears me so much they don’t dare send any patrols after me! It would be smart for you to give up your money and walk away unharmed.”
The Redguard however, was not intimidated. He drew a curved blade with his right hand in a flourish and aimed it directly at the bandit’s heart. At the same time, he used his other hand to release the straps on his backpack which fell to the ground.
“My name is Sorian! Sorian the Ansei! If you are the plague, then I shall be your cure! Drop your sword and walk away from the path of crime! Repent, or face the souls of your victims in Oblivion!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The Imperial’s partner took the opportunity to attack the obviously distracted Redguard from behind. He raised his axe high above his head and prepared to send it into Sorian’s skull.
Two whispers shot through the sky and both bandits dropped dead, leaving the Redguard standing in dumbfounded confusion.
“What is going on?” He thought. He then saw the feathered shafts of two bolts sticking out of the Imperial’s skull. Instantly, he looked from side to side, sword still held in front of him.
“who’s there?! Show yourself!” He yelled.
Behind a bush just off the road, Vasha shook her head.
“Foolish young man. If he doesn’t learn to watch his back, he’ll get killed.” She said to herself.
“Nevertheless, we’ve dealt with the bandits that have been such a hassle since last week. There is no need for us to remain and get involved with him any further.” She tapped a ring she wore on her hand which began to glow in a deep green.
“One…two…three.” Simultaneously, five pillars of black smoke erupted from behind various bushes.
Sorian saw the smoke and ran to the nearest bush.
“Who are you?!” He asked, but no one was there.
OOC: Revan, just for your information. The ring Vasha used is something I've decided on as a communication device. Varying on the number of taps, it displays different colours. In this case, green meant 'retreat'. The rings are connected. If one glows, all the other ones will glow in the same colour. Vasha probably has multiple ones. One is connected to the ones her team wears, the other to perhaps other teams or the Narza'Tai main command? Colour codes should change regularly, just in case.
Full Version: To Heir is Human III, Playground 1
Satyana, Chorrol
The morning sun was bright, Satyana sat on the stairs in front of her house, sipping a cup of tea.
I must tell him today....gah, I wonder what he'll say, this isn't the best of times, but still, it happened and I'm happy about it... Please let him be happy as well
She sighed and put the cup down. It was high time to feed the horses, they were alreade awake and hungry. Satyana went to the small stable and gave the two horses their breakfast. She was happy, yet worried, her life had turned out alright, she was married to Issac, they had managed to buy this small farm where they could grow herbs and plants, and even keep a couple of horses. She loved the horses, they were so sweet.
The nausea caught her as she was gathering the hay....she stood still, sweat was running down her back and she struggled not to vomit. No success....she emptied her already empty stomach just outside the stables. Wiping the tears from her cheeks she looked around to see if Issac had noticed.
Her blouse was sticking to her back, her breasts were sore, she felt really sick, but there was a very good reason for that and she couldn't help smiling....
She pulled her damp hair back and headed for the house....to wake her beloved one up..now was the time to tell him....
"Issac, darling, wake up....there's something I must tell you" Satyana gently kissed him on his forehead...
Oh I love you Issac, you'll never imagine how much I love you....
The morning sun was bright, Satyana sat on the stairs in front of her house, sipping a cup of tea.
I must tell him today....gah, I wonder what he'll say, this isn't the best of times, but still, it happened and I'm happy about it... Please let him be happy as well
She sighed and put the cup down. It was high time to feed the horses, they were alreade awake and hungry. Satyana went to the small stable and gave the two horses their breakfast. She was happy, yet worried, her life had turned out alright, she was married to Issac, they had managed to buy this small farm where they could grow herbs and plants, and even keep a couple of horses. She loved the horses, they were so sweet.
The nausea caught her as she was gathering the hay....she stood still, sweat was running down her back and she struggled not to vomit. No success....she emptied her already empty stomach just outside the stables. Wiping the tears from her cheeks she looked around to see if Issac had noticed.
Her blouse was sticking to her back, her breasts were sore, she felt really sick, but there was a very good reason for that and she couldn't help smiling....
She pulled her damp hair back and headed for the house....to wake her beloved one up..now was the time to tell him....
"Issac, darling, wake up....there's something I must tell you" Satyana gently kissed him on his forehead...
Oh I love you Issac, you'll never imagine how much I love you....
OCC: I'll let someone else post before starting Issac.
Ian, Anvil
The port of Anvil had been left untouched by the war, making it the only functional port in Cyrodiil.
This fact was why the population had recently boomed. More peers had been contructed and the monoploy of trade would not change anytime soon.
Amidst the almost constant trickle of people going into and out of the castle was a single man who hadn't moved for hours.
More than one person stopped and stared; exchanged hushed whispers. Some knew who this man was, the blood red robes and tell-tale wrist daggers gave away the agent's identity.
Ian, the man who slew the King of Worms, didn't take notice of the commoners and dignitaries who gazed at him in wonder.
His reddened eyes watched the rising sun on the horizon. He reflected on the inconvienance of his fame, then on the facts that the rumors didn't mention.
His vampirism was one such fact, to most his status was an exceptional warrior who could cheat the master of death. Kirana found his annoyance amusing to no end.
The vampire finally moved as a black horse courior approached. Ian snatched a packet of the papers and glanced over them.
His face was impassive as he noted even more reports of respectable citizens disappearing without a trace, but his face filled with disdain as the killings were pinned on elements of Narza'Tai radicals. *Anyone with a proper mind would realize these people weren't the type the Narza'tai would target: they were opposed the sudden shift to democrasy, traditionalists, the people that sympathized for the Narza'Tai's cause of perserving the old ways.
-------
Pell's Gate
Two legionnaires shook their heads at the sight. Several rotting corpses were hung from a line running between two small houses.
One ineffectively tried to swat at an annoying fly buzzing around his helmet. "This was the Narza'Tai." He muttered dryly.
"That's what we'll say, but those honored users don't go murdering villages, hanging dead bodies, but not killing these scum." The other said studying the corpse that still resembled a woman.
"At least whoever did it didn't take anything, mark my words this haul will merit a promotion!" The first commented, approaching the villages meeting house.
There was a muffled sound, and the second legionnaire spun around. The door was wide open, but the interior was dark.
"Hey, Septimus! You find something?" A moment passed and he unsheathed his longsword.
The legionnaire cautiously approached the meeting house. He took two steps into the building and spotted Septimus' boot.
He looked up and spotted something else. It was a helmet, whatever was wearing it inched closer.
The head was attached to a long snake-like neck. He heard the creature growl, a long, rumbming warning tone.
"God's BLOOD!" The soldier took a spinning step to escape before the creature grabbed his boot and pulled him off his feet.
The dazed legionnaire swung his sword wildly, but it did nothing to save him.....
Ian, Anvil
The port of Anvil had been left untouched by the war, making it the only functional port in Cyrodiil.
This fact was why the population had recently boomed. More peers had been contructed and the monoploy of trade would not change anytime soon.
Amidst the almost constant trickle of people going into and out of the castle was a single man who hadn't moved for hours.
More than one person stopped and stared; exchanged hushed whispers. Some knew who this man was, the blood red robes and tell-tale wrist daggers gave away the agent's identity.
Ian, the man who slew the King of Worms, didn't take notice of the commoners and dignitaries who gazed at him in wonder.
His reddened eyes watched the rising sun on the horizon. He reflected on the inconvienance of his fame, then on the facts that the rumors didn't mention.
His vampirism was one such fact, to most his status was an exceptional warrior who could cheat the master of death. Kirana found his annoyance amusing to no end.
The vampire finally moved as a black horse courior approached. Ian snatched a packet of the papers and glanced over them.
His face was impassive as he noted even more reports of respectable citizens disappearing without a trace, but his face filled with disdain as the killings were pinned on elements of Narza'Tai radicals. *Anyone with a proper mind would realize these people weren't the type the Narza'tai would target: they were opposed the sudden shift to democrasy, traditionalists, the people that sympathized for the Narza'Tai's cause of perserving the old ways.
-------
Pell's Gate
Two legionnaires shook their heads at the sight. Several rotting corpses were hung from a line running between two small houses.
One ineffectively tried to swat at an annoying fly buzzing around his helmet. "This was the Narza'Tai." He muttered dryly.
"That's what we'll say, but those honored users don't go murdering villages, hanging dead bodies, but not killing these scum." The other said studying the corpse that still resembled a woman.
"At least whoever did it didn't take anything, mark my words this haul will merit a promotion!" The first commented, approaching the villages meeting house.
There was a muffled sound, and the second legionnaire spun around. The door was wide open, but the interior was dark.
"Hey, Septimus! You find something?" A moment passed and he unsheathed his longsword.
The legionnaire cautiously approached the meeting house. He took two steps into the building and spotted Septimus' boot.
He looked up and spotted something else. It was a helmet, whatever was wearing it inched closer.
The head was attached to a long snake-like neck. He heard the creature growl, a long, rumbming warning tone.
"God's BLOOD!" The soldier took a spinning step to escape before the creature grabbed his boot and pulled him off his feet.
The dazed legionnaire swung his sword wildly, but it did nothing to save him.....
OOC: I'll let someone else post before starting Veric/Altair.
Rann, One Year Ago
Rann stepped into Altair's tent. It was dusk and Altair was waiting for him with a tabletop covered in various scrolls and tomes, one of them having been left behind by Kirana. They had been meeting nearly every night soon after the Silhouette was banished to study the origins of Rann's strange birthmark, and they were actually gaining knowledge. Sort of.
"So what's new?" Rann asked, sitting in the seat across from Altair.
"Well," Altair replied, turning to a marked page in Kirana's tome, "You come from a long lineage of powerful mages."
Rann snickered, "That explains all of my natural spellcasting talents."
"You didn't let me finish," Altair said flatly before continuing, "Your ancestors were a powerful dunmer family in Morrowind; well-known members of House Telvanni. Unfortunately, one of them angered House Indoril when he killed a number of priests. I couldn't figure out all the details, but I did find out that he was imprisoned and somehow stripped permanently of all magical ability. He still knew how to cast spells, but he just couldn't tap into his magicka."
"After he was freed, though," Altair kept on, "House Telvanni still mourned his loss and rewarded him for his years of loyal service. They sent him to see a high elf wizard in the Summerset Isles, who crafted the magicka-absorbing tattoo for him. Both House Indoril's curse and this altmer's gift are hereditary. I'll let you know when I find out who exactly this wizard was, and if he's even alive."
Rann, Present
Rann took in the area around him, basking in the very idea of returning home. He urged his horse to go faster as the Imperial City came in sight. Repairs seemed to be going well, as much progress had been made in the Reconstruction since he had last been there. The new White Gold Tower was not yet complete, but it seemed to be standing just as proudly as the original, despite its lack of height.
It had only been two days since he'd landed back in Cyrodiil. After a year of traveling and living in Summerset Isle, Rann finally decided to take the ship back to Anvil.
He crossed the stone bridge as he approached and left his horse at the stable. Walking into the Talos Plaza District with a pack slung over his shoulder, Rann could tell that much was getting better. Business seemed to be booming again in the city, and besides the unfinished tower looming on the horizon, Rann could see little sign of the battle that occurred that long year ago.
Rann wondered if he would happen upon anyone he knew besides Altair, who he was coming specifically to see. It had been so long since he'd heard anything from the people he knew in Cyrodiil that he honestly had no idea of what he should expect.
Rann, One Year Ago
Rann stepped into Altair's tent. It was dusk and Altair was waiting for him with a tabletop covered in various scrolls and tomes, one of them having been left behind by Kirana. They had been meeting nearly every night soon after the Silhouette was banished to study the origins of Rann's strange birthmark, and they were actually gaining knowledge. Sort of.
"So what's new?" Rann asked, sitting in the seat across from Altair.
"Well," Altair replied, turning to a marked page in Kirana's tome, "You come from a long lineage of powerful mages."
Rann snickered, "That explains all of my natural spellcasting talents."
"You didn't let me finish," Altair said flatly before continuing, "Your ancestors were a powerful dunmer family in Morrowind; well-known members of House Telvanni. Unfortunately, one of them angered House Indoril when he killed a number of priests. I couldn't figure out all the details, but I did find out that he was imprisoned and somehow stripped permanently of all magical ability. He still knew how to cast spells, but he just couldn't tap into his magicka."
"After he was freed, though," Altair kept on, "House Telvanni still mourned his loss and rewarded him for his years of loyal service. They sent him to see a high elf wizard in the Summerset Isles, who crafted the magicka-absorbing tattoo for him. Both House Indoril's curse and this altmer's gift are hereditary. I'll let you know when I find out who exactly this wizard was, and if he's even alive."
Rann, Present
Rann took in the area around him, basking in the very idea of returning home. He urged his horse to go faster as the Imperial City came in sight. Repairs seemed to be going well, as much progress had been made in the Reconstruction since he had last been there. The new White Gold Tower was not yet complete, but it seemed to be standing just as proudly as the original, despite its lack of height.
It had only been two days since he'd landed back in Cyrodiil. After a year of traveling and living in Summerset Isle, Rann finally decided to take the ship back to Anvil.
He crossed the stone bridge as he approached and left his horse at the stable. Walking into the Talos Plaza District with a pack slung over his shoulder, Rann could tell that much was getting better. Business seemed to be booming again in the city, and besides the unfinished tower looming on the horizon, Rann could see little sign of the battle that occurred that long year ago.
Rann wondered if he would happen upon anyone he knew besides Altair, who he was coming specifically to see. It had been so long since he'd heard anything from the people he knew in Cyrodiil that he honestly had no idea of what he should expect.
Flogir, the Imperial City
A knock at his office door caught Flogir's attention.
"Enter," his warm, yet time-worn voice called.
A solider entered, baring the golden crest of the Home Guard. The soldier snapped a salute to the General of the Home Guard. Flogir nearly smiled at the seriousness the man was showing but he remembered that a soldier was supposed to act like this in front of their superior. Flogir returned the salute.
"What do you need, Captain Merigold?" he asked.
"Well sir..." Merigold began but hesitated.
"Spit it out Merigold, I don't have time to waste," Flogir stated briskly, indicating a healthy stack of paperwork that needed to be looked over.
Merigold blanched. "Sorry sir, it's just that there was an incident at 'The Watering Hole' involving some off-duty Home Guard and some Legion-."
"By the Nine!" Flogir cursed and slammed his fist on his desk, rattling the various items upon it. "Did I not inform the men that they should not drink where the Legionnaires usually do?"
Merigold gulped audibly. "It seems that that order has not reached all the men yet. I'll make sure that it does after this though."
"That you should, Captain," Flogir growled darkly. He looked up to the Captain once again, some of the heat from his eyes had dissapated. "Where are they now?"
"They are currently incarcerated for assaulting members of the Imperial Legion. Our men claim they were goaded into fighting, sir," Merigold explained.
"Of course they were," Flogir grumbled and began shifting a few papers. "I'll have to speak to that leech, Agrippa after the meeting today and see if he can let this slide. Do you command these men Merigold?"
"No sir, Sergeant Mallory does, sir," Merigold replied.
"Be sure to inform Mallory that these men get assigned to something unpleasant for the next two weeks."
"It shall be done, sir."
"Dismissed, Merigold," Flogir said, waving him off.
Merigold snapped another salute, turned on heel and left the office. Flogir scratched at his beard as he thought about having to talk to Agrippa. The man has been a thorn in his side since Altair hired him to lead the Legions. Other than Altair and possibly few other members of the council, Agrippa basically tired to make himself appear superior to all those he dealt with. Whenever Flogir spoke with Agrippa it seems as if Agrippa was talking to him as if he were a child. It didn't rub Flogir the right way.
Flogir smacked the desk once again and cursed.
A knock at his office door caught Flogir's attention.
"Enter," his warm, yet time-worn voice called.
A solider entered, baring the golden crest of the Home Guard. The soldier snapped a salute to the General of the Home Guard. Flogir nearly smiled at the seriousness the man was showing but he remembered that a soldier was supposed to act like this in front of their superior. Flogir returned the salute.
"What do you need, Captain Merigold?" he asked.
"Well sir..." Merigold began but hesitated.
"Spit it out Merigold, I don't have time to waste," Flogir stated briskly, indicating a healthy stack of paperwork that needed to be looked over.
Merigold blanched. "Sorry sir, it's just that there was an incident at 'The Watering Hole' involving some off-duty Home Guard and some Legion-."
"By the Nine!" Flogir cursed and slammed his fist on his desk, rattling the various items upon it. "Did I not inform the men that they should not drink where the Legionnaires usually do?"
Merigold gulped audibly. "It seems that that order has not reached all the men yet. I'll make sure that it does after this though."
"That you should, Captain," Flogir growled darkly. He looked up to the Captain once again, some of the heat from his eyes had dissapated. "Where are they now?"
"They are currently incarcerated for assaulting members of the Imperial Legion. Our men claim they were goaded into fighting, sir," Merigold explained.
"Of course they were," Flogir grumbled and began shifting a few papers. "I'll have to speak to that leech, Agrippa after the meeting today and see if he can let this slide. Do you command these men Merigold?"
"No sir, Sergeant Mallory does, sir," Merigold replied.
"Be sure to inform Mallory that these men get assigned to something unpleasant for the next two weeks."
"It shall be done, sir."
"Dismissed, Merigold," Flogir said, waving him off.
Merigold snapped another salute, turned on heel and left the office. Flogir scratched at his beard as he thought about having to talk to Agrippa. The man has been a thorn in his side since Altair hired him to lead the Legions. Other than Altair and possibly few other members of the council, Agrippa basically tired to make himself appear superior to all those he dealt with. Whenever Flogir spoke with Agrippa it seems as if Agrippa was talking to him as if he were a child. It didn't rub Flogir the right way.
Flogir smacked the desk once again and cursed.
Flint Ironwood, his office in Bruma
Flint muttered darkly to himself. If he looked out of the window, he could still see the lingering smoke coming from the field. Shaking his head, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write.
Flogir,
Today's test on concept D was another failure. The prototype exploded when the mechanism was triggered. We know what happened. The spheres were released too soon and shattered, allowing the payload to mix with the air. The results speak for themselves. But why the spheres were released too soon, we don't know. I swear we triple-checked every single nut and bolt, and still the damn thing blows up. The theory is sound and the bleuprints have been worked out till the finest details, and still the damn thing blows up. It's driving me nuts, to be honest.
In other news, I'm going to freeze concept B, the long-range ballista, for now. We had a meeting on it and agreed that it just isn't possible with the current budget. Only a bow made from Dwemer steel can withstand the strain put on it. Naturally, that stuff is hard to get by and even harder to work with. Speaking of which, Odrik is planning to dispatch some unofficial ambassadors to Morrowind. Now that we've dropped the project, he wants to import some Dwemer originals in the cheapest way possible. Who knows, we might just learn something from those relics. We'll need permission for that, though. All Dwemer artefacts are property of the Empire.
In three days, we should have rebuilt concept D. From now one, we're going to fill the glass spheres with water instead of the explosive liquid. Odrik complained that the mass would be different but I don't care. If anything goes wrong this time, at least we won't put the whole thing on fire. It is too expensive to rebuilt a siege engine every single time. Besides, it will be easier to find the fault in the design when the trebuchet is still intact.
Anyway, I hope everything is going fine down there in Cyrodiil. Say hi to everyone for me.
Flint Ironwood.
Flint folded the letter and passed it on to a waiting servant.
"Direct it to the Home Guard in Cyrodiil by pidgeon." He said before turning towards the window. The smoke had vanished.
Flint muttered darkly to himself. If he looked out of the window, he could still see the lingering smoke coming from the field. Shaking his head, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write.
Flogir,
Today's test on concept D was another failure. The prototype exploded when the mechanism was triggered. We know what happened. The spheres were released too soon and shattered, allowing the payload to mix with the air. The results speak for themselves. But why the spheres were released too soon, we don't know. I swear we triple-checked every single nut and bolt, and still the damn thing blows up. The theory is sound and the bleuprints have been worked out till the finest details, and still the damn thing blows up. It's driving me nuts, to be honest.
In other news, I'm going to freeze concept B, the long-range ballista, for now. We had a meeting on it and agreed that it just isn't possible with the current budget. Only a bow made from Dwemer steel can withstand the strain put on it. Naturally, that stuff is hard to get by and even harder to work with. Speaking of which, Odrik is planning to dispatch some unofficial ambassadors to Morrowind. Now that we've dropped the project, he wants to import some Dwemer originals in the cheapest way possible. Who knows, we might just learn something from those relics. We'll need permission for that, though. All Dwemer artefacts are property of the Empire.
In three days, we should have rebuilt concept D. From now one, we're going to fill the glass spheres with water instead of the explosive liquid. Odrik complained that the mass would be different but I don't care. If anything goes wrong this time, at least we won't put the whole thing on fire. It is too expensive to rebuilt a siege engine every single time. Besides, it will be easier to find the fault in the design when the trebuchet is still intact.
Anyway, I hope everything is going fine down there in Cyrodiil. Say hi to everyone for me.
Flint Ironwood.
Flint folded the letter and passed it on to a waiting servant.
"Direct it to the Home Guard in Cyrodiil by pidgeon." He said before turning towards the window. The smoke had vanished.
Issac, homestead near Chorrol
The Altmer stretched and blinked sleepily. He focused on Satyana after a few moments. "Satyana, I'd rather get dressed first, can we talk during breakfast?" He asked, carresing her cheek softly.
--------
Imperial City
A black horse courior stood before a gathering of people. "New edition: Small Village Massacres, don't be the next victim!"
Black Horse Courior: Small Village Massacres
Two weeks ago a merchant caravan arrived at their destination. They expected a normal welcome, but found a morbid one instead.
Five days later a legion patrol discovered another lifeless village. Corpses of men and women hanging from wires between their homes to rot, bite wounds unlike anything known to civilized man, and absolutely nothing valuable having been looted!
A legion patrol was sent to Pell's Gate, across Lake Rumare from the Imperial City, as it was believed to be the next target. The legionnaires suffered the same terrible fate as countless innocents at the claws of this abomonation.
Many argue that these were not Narza'Tai attacks, citing the lack of looting, bite wounds, and the location of these attacks compared to Narza'Tai territory.
It is also believed it is one creature responsible, we'll keep you up to date as this unfolds.
The Altmer stretched and blinked sleepily. He focused on Satyana after a few moments. "Satyana, I'd rather get dressed first, can we talk during breakfast?" He asked, carresing her cheek softly.
--------
Imperial City
A black horse courior stood before a gathering of people. "New edition: Small Village Massacres, don't be the next victim!"
Black Horse Courior: Small Village Massacres
Two weeks ago a merchant caravan arrived at their destination. They expected a normal welcome, but found a morbid one instead.
Five days later a legion patrol discovered another lifeless village. Corpses of men and women hanging from wires between their homes to rot, bite wounds unlike anything known to civilized man, and absolutely nothing valuable having been looted!
A legion patrol was sent to Pell's Gate, across Lake Rumare from the Imperial City, as it was believed to be the next target. The legionnaires suffered the same terrible fate as countless innocents at the claws of this abomonation.
Many argue that these were not Narza'Tai attacks, citing the lack of looting, bite wounds, and the location of these attacks compared to Narza'Tai territory.
It is also believed it is one creature responsible, we'll keep you up to date as this unfolds.
Indor, his waterfront hut
The knocking was insistent, Indor could see a large nord though his shattered window. He sighed and readjusted his bandages before he went to the door, hoping the bailiff was having a good day. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The rent.”
Indor eyed the nord warily and moved to hide the inside of his hut, “I don’t have it.”
“That won’t do. You already owe for last month, and your window is broken, that’s another forty septims.”
“I’ll have it soon-“
“You said that last time.”
“I was robbed. Next week I can pay you,” the nord looked doubtful, “Give me a week. Look take this,” Indor gave him a bottle, “It will make you very strong, for a bit. It’s for you, just give me another week.”
The nord took the bottle and nodded, “If you don’t have-“
“I will.” Indor assured him.
As the bailiff walked away Indor sighed in relief, he’d noticed the window but at least he hadn’t seen inside. Indor rubbed at his hand but the fresh burns only itched more. He hadn’t expected the Ayleid stone to rupture like that. There had been a lot of power and how it worked fascinated him. It was defiantly worthy of more research. If only he had the means. He shook his head and looked across the lake; in the distance he saw the spires of the Ayleid city. How naive he’d been to go there: he’d got out alive but not with his money. The bandits had left him with nothing but the clothes on his back. Still they had made their offer: five hundred septims to investigate it in safety, and to keep any artefacts he found.
The opportunity was there but useless to him, he hadn’t got enough money to pay the rent for a hut on the waterfront: how would he raise that much? But without it his research was finished. His accident with the stone had only increased his interest, and destroyed some of his furniture.
Maybe someone would be interested, maybe interested enough to help. If he had a sponsor, it was clutching at straws but perhaps. He went back into the shack and packed a bag with the remnants of the gem, his notes and some potions. If it came to the worst at least he could sell enough potions to keep up with the interest payments. He drank half a potion to give him a bit more energy then headed towards the main part of the Imperial City.
The knocking was insistent, Indor could see a large nord though his shattered window. He sighed and readjusted his bandages before he went to the door, hoping the bailiff was having a good day. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The rent.”
Indor eyed the nord warily and moved to hide the inside of his hut, “I don’t have it.”
“That won’t do. You already owe for last month, and your window is broken, that’s another forty septims.”
“I’ll have it soon-“
“You said that last time.”
“I was robbed. Next week I can pay you,” the nord looked doubtful, “Give me a week. Look take this,” Indor gave him a bottle, “It will make you very strong, for a bit. It’s for you, just give me another week.”
The nord took the bottle and nodded, “If you don’t have-“
“I will.” Indor assured him.
As the bailiff walked away Indor sighed in relief, he’d noticed the window but at least he hadn’t seen inside. Indor rubbed at his hand but the fresh burns only itched more. He hadn’t expected the Ayleid stone to rupture like that. There had been a lot of power and how it worked fascinated him. It was defiantly worthy of more research. If only he had the means. He shook his head and looked across the lake; in the distance he saw the spires of the Ayleid city. How naive he’d been to go there: he’d got out alive but not with his money. The bandits had left him with nothing but the clothes on his back. Still they had made their offer: five hundred septims to investigate it in safety, and to keep any artefacts he found.
The opportunity was there but useless to him, he hadn’t got enough money to pay the rent for a hut on the waterfront: how would he raise that much? But without it his research was finished. His accident with the stone had only increased his interest, and destroyed some of his furniture.
Maybe someone would be interested, maybe interested enough to help. If he had a sponsor, it was clutching at straws but perhaps. He went back into the shack and packed a bag with the remnants of the gem, his notes and some potions. If it came to the worst at least he could sell enough potions to keep up with the interest payments. He drank half a potion to give him a bit more energy then headed towards the main part of the Imperial City.
Dalrus Varus, Arcane University
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it is often better to use some of your energy on wards instead of depending completely on enchantments. I will see you tomorrow, remember to bring a plain gold necklace and I expect your papers on fighting trolls to be on my desk, before I start my lecture." She smiled at a middle-aged man named Michael. She had never thought about it, but it must have been weird for someone who was 21 to be teaching a class of people of whom only one was within 5 years of her ages. The rest were all older.
Dalrus left the podium and smiled at the apprentices as they walked by. She quickly walked up to her tower and was bombarded by a wall of noise. Tons of mages from all over the empire were in the main lobby, either making appointments to see her or to deliver things to the various heads of the Arcane Universities buildings. She had already improved the university greatly. The buildings were no longer gray but seemed to be covered in enchantments. The stone was white marble, much more noticeable than the great stone of the city. The ground seemed to be covered in a fog and plants of every type lined the walkways. Every building had secrets, every one of them a mystery.
"Madam Dalrus please..."
"Miss Varus, might I have a word?..."
"Archmage, I have something of great importance..."
"Ahh there you are, the person I have been dying to talk to..."
Dalrus smiled politely but walked on with an heir of purpose. She went over to the portal, dodging a particularly boisterous mage who seemed to think Dalrus and her were on a first name basis. Soon she glowed purple and she felt the strange sensation that the she was having warm water poured over her. She arrived in the Mage Council room and there she met some of the Undermages from the provinces. These were the archmages who lead a province but answered to her.
"I am sorry Llevn but I really must go... I am meeting a good friend of mine who I have not seen in a year..." she said to the Morrowind Archmage who seemed intent to tell her for the fourteenth time that house Telvanni was giving them trouble again.
I hope Rann's meeting with Altair is not too long she thought as she went into the portal that her and Altair had made straight to the Green Emperor Way.
General Agrippa, Imperial Legion base/Prison
This "Home Guard," legion was really starting to get Agrippa angry. Two of Agrippa's own prized legionaires had been acosted by some of the Home Guard at "the Watering Hole," and Agrippa felt a personally insulted by this because he had just gotten done with an interview for the Black Horse Courier. In the interview Agrippa had lied his way through many questions about his and Flogir's relationship, in which he stated "Me and Flogir are like a team who's main goal is to perserve the great people of the empire!" Well it would certainly be the last time he said that, unless of course someone more important was listening.
Agrippa loved his new post, other than members of the council, he was the highest ranked person in Cyrodiil, and if that Dalrus woman was not on the council, he suspected he would have nearly as much space to control his legions as he had during the crisis with Oblivion. Unfortunately she loathed him and unlike Flogir, she was not very polite to him.
Agrippa looked into the mirror as an attractive Breten woman polished his Imperial Dragon boots. Well well well, who is that fierce war general? he teased himself. His smug grin came to a short halt when he realized he was late for his meeting with his general of patrol. He quickly slapped away the breten woman's hand as she made to polish his breast plate and without a word went upstairs.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it is often better to use some of your energy on wards instead of depending completely on enchantments. I will see you tomorrow, remember to bring a plain gold necklace and I expect your papers on fighting trolls to be on my desk, before I start my lecture." She smiled at a middle-aged man named Michael. She had never thought about it, but it must have been weird for someone who was 21 to be teaching a class of people of whom only one was within 5 years of her ages. The rest were all older.
Dalrus left the podium and smiled at the apprentices as they walked by. She quickly walked up to her tower and was bombarded by a wall of noise. Tons of mages from all over the empire were in the main lobby, either making appointments to see her or to deliver things to the various heads of the Arcane Universities buildings. She had already improved the university greatly. The buildings were no longer gray but seemed to be covered in enchantments. The stone was white marble, much more noticeable than the great stone of the city. The ground seemed to be covered in a fog and plants of every type lined the walkways. Every building had secrets, every one of them a mystery.
"Madam Dalrus please..."
"Miss Varus, might I have a word?..."
"Archmage, I have something of great importance..."
"Ahh there you are, the person I have been dying to talk to..."
Dalrus smiled politely but walked on with an heir of purpose. She went over to the portal, dodging a particularly boisterous mage who seemed to think Dalrus and her were on a first name basis. Soon she glowed purple and she felt the strange sensation that the she was having warm water poured over her. She arrived in the Mage Council room and there she met some of the Undermages from the provinces. These were the archmages who lead a province but answered to her.
"I am sorry Llevn but I really must go... I am meeting a good friend of mine who I have not seen in a year..." she said to the Morrowind Archmage who seemed intent to tell her for the fourteenth time that house Telvanni was giving them trouble again.
I hope Rann's meeting with Altair is not too long she thought as she went into the portal that her and Altair had made straight to the Green Emperor Way.
General Agrippa, Imperial Legion base/Prison
This "Home Guard," legion was really starting to get Agrippa angry. Two of Agrippa's own prized legionaires had been acosted by some of the Home Guard at "the Watering Hole," and Agrippa felt a personally insulted by this because he had just gotten done with an interview for the Black Horse Courier. In the interview Agrippa had lied his way through many questions about his and Flogir's relationship, in which he stated "Me and Flogir are like a team who's main goal is to perserve the great people of the empire!" Well it would certainly be the last time he said that, unless of course someone more important was listening.
Agrippa loved his new post, other than members of the council, he was the highest ranked person in Cyrodiil, and if that Dalrus woman was not on the council, he suspected he would have nearly as much space to control his legions as he had during the crisis with Oblivion. Unfortunately she loathed him and unlike Flogir, she was not very polite to him.
Agrippa looked into the mirror as an attractive Breten woman polished his Imperial Dragon boots. Well well well, who is that fierce war general? he teased himself. His smug grin came to a short halt when he realized he was late for his meeting with his general of patrol. He quickly slapped away the breten woman's hand as she made to polish his breast plate and without a word went upstairs.
Savras
Highlands north of Chorrol
Savras brought his horse to a halt as he approached the edge of the mountains. In the distant he could make out the Colovian Highlands, a hilly forested region just north of Chorrol which meant he had been following the right trail in the northern mountains.
He pulled his hair back and watched the landscape as it had been quite a while since he lasted visited this part of Tamriel. He had devoted two years perfecting his swordsmanship with the Redguards, even when he heard of the war that was raging here. In the he had received his current sword as a gift from those whom he had trained with. He had trained with a similar sword but this one was like no other he had ever wielded. It was shorter than an ordinary longsword and lighter, but the curved blade could still deliver a power matching that of a claymore with the swiftness of a dagger.
Knowing he should try to reach Chorrol before sundown Savras continued south heading through the highlands.
Highlands north of Chorrol
Savras brought his horse to a halt as he approached the edge of the mountains. In the distant he could make out the Colovian Highlands, a hilly forested region just north of Chorrol which meant he had been following the right trail in the northern mountains.
He pulled his hair back and watched the landscape as it had been quite a while since he lasted visited this part of Tamriel. He had devoted two years perfecting his swordsmanship with the Redguards, even when he heard of the war that was raging here. In the he had received his current sword as a gift from those whom he had trained with. He had trained with a similar sword but this one was like no other he had ever wielded. It was shorter than an ordinary longsword and lighter, but the curved blade could still deliver a power matching that of a claymore with the swiftness of a dagger.
Knowing he should try to reach Chorrol before sundown Savras continued south heading through the highlands.
Amrita, North of Anvil
A warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree Amrita was perched in, bringing the salty taste of the sea with it. She ignored it for the most part, her attention focused on listening to the sounds of the countryside. She knew what she was waiting for but the sound of horses had yet to be heard. It didn't matter, she had tracked their journey twice over the last few days and both instances had passed this point. They would arrive.
Almost on cue, the distant thunder of hoofs reached Amrita's pointed ears. A sly grin broke across her face as she gazed down below her. There awaiting her was a pack of wolves she had managed to capture with a Command Creature spell. To make sure that they would get the job done, she also had placed an Enhanced Strength spell upon them. It was time for an unfortunate accident.
Through the foliage of trees, Amrita could just make out Millona Umbranox and her two bodyguards riding towards her. The Countess of Anvil had been one of the leading patrons opposed to the new diplomatic leadership of Cyrodil. Veric had instructed her that it was about time to put a serious quell to this annoyance. Before this, Amrita had only taken out small, local annoyances near the Imperial City. That was a month and a half ago. Surely after this was done, no connection would be made. This was just a tragic accident afterall.
The Countess was close enough now. With a simple command of will, the pack of wolves rushed towards the three riders, snarling with vicious intent. Instantly teeth rendered flesh, cries of pain issued forth, and life was extinguished. All the while a black robed and slender woman looked on impassively as the deed was done.
Happy with the result, she released the spells she had on the wolves. Within her robes she clutched a yellow amulet and felt a swirl of magic wash across her. "It is done." Was all she needed to state before releasing the amulet. Seamlessly, Amrita merged with the shade of the trees and began her trek to Anvil. She wouldn't mind a carriage to whatever destination Veric wanted her next.
A warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree Amrita was perched in, bringing the salty taste of the sea with it. She ignored it for the most part, her attention focused on listening to the sounds of the countryside. She knew what she was waiting for but the sound of horses had yet to be heard. It didn't matter, she had tracked their journey twice over the last few days and both instances had passed this point. They would arrive.
Almost on cue, the distant thunder of hoofs reached Amrita's pointed ears. A sly grin broke across her face as she gazed down below her. There awaiting her was a pack of wolves she had managed to capture with a Command Creature spell. To make sure that they would get the job done, she also had placed an Enhanced Strength spell upon them. It was time for an unfortunate accident.
Through the foliage of trees, Amrita could just make out Millona Umbranox and her two bodyguards riding towards her. The Countess of Anvil had been one of the leading patrons opposed to the new diplomatic leadership of Cyrodil. Veric had instructed her that it was about time to put a serious quell to this annoyance. Before this, Amrita had only taken out small, local annoyances near the Imperial City. That was a month and a half ago. Surely after this was done, no connection would be made. This was just a tragic accident afterall.
The Countess was close enough now. With a simple command of will, the pack of wolves rushed towards the three riders, snarling with vicious intent. Instantly teeth rendered flesh, cries of pain issued forth, and life was extinguished. All the while a black robed and slender woman looked on impassively as the deed was done.
Happy with the result, she released the spells she had on the wolves. Within her robes she clutched a yellow amulet and felt a swirl of magic wash across her. "It is done." Was all she needed to state before releasing the amulet. Seamlessly, Amrita merged with the shade of the trees and began her trek to Anvil. She wouldn't mind a carriage to whatever destination Veric wanted her next.
Ian, Anvil
The vampire stood on a raft he rented cheaply for a few hours. His hunter's sight penetrated the murky water, giving him an advantage over other the other fishermen out and about.
Ian nocked an arrow and aimed deliberately. The ebony projectile struck true and Ian's raft difted close enough to snatch the bobbing shaft. He dropped the slaughterfish into a net and repeated the procedure several times.
By the time his rent was due, the vampire had filled his net. "Lightning would have worked better." Kirana commented errantly.
I'd rather not overcook the meat, and arrow-fishing is more sporty. Ian replied, taking his net full of fish to the market.
--------
Issac quickly dressed and sat down with Satyana at the table. "So, what is on your mind, 'Tyana?" He sipped a glass of water.
The vampire stood on a raft he rented cheaply for a few hours. His hunter's sight penetrated the murky water, giving him an advantage over other the other fishermen out and about.
Ian nocked an arrow and aimed deliberately. The ebony projectile struck true and Ian's raft difted close enough to snatch the bobbing shaft. He dropped the slaughterfish into a net and repeated the procedure several times.
By the time his rent was due, the vampire had filled his net. "Lightning would have worked better." Kirana commented errantly.
I'd rather not overcook the meat, and arrow-fishing is more sporty. Ian replied, taking his net full of fish to the market.
--------
Issac quickly dressed and sat down with Satyana at the table. "So, what is on your mind, 'Tyana?" He sipped a glass of water.
Satyana, Chorrol homestead
Satyana smiled, she put a mug of hot hackle-lo tea in front of Issac, she knew he liked it very much....
"Issac, my precsious, you.....you are going to be.....a father!"
She blushed and lowered her head.....
Oh by Nirn, let him be happy about it....
Satyana smiled, she put a mug of hot hackle-lo tea in front of Issac, she knew he liked it very much....
"Issac, my precsious, you.....you are going to be.....a father!"
She blushed and lowered her head.....
Oh by Nirn, let him be happy about it....
Issac
He nearly coughed a mouthful of tea. Issac swallowed finally and set the mug down carefully. Did she just say....?
"A... A father? Are you certain, Satyana?" She didn't have to say yes, suddenly he could tell.
Issac hadn't had firm expectations of how he'd take news like this. The altmer laid back in his seat and mulled this over in his head.
He realized that Satyana was unsure of his reaction. Issac let out a breath. "This is a surprise...." Great, that was stupid.
"Satyana, this is fantastic!" He remembered talking about having a child during the war. Issac got out of his chair and knelt beside his wife.
He took her hand in his and smiled comfortingly. "Ian's going to want to hear about this."
If he knew anything in the world, he knew Ian would want to be here.
He nearly coughed a mouthful of tea. Issac swallowed finally and set the mug down carefully. Did she just say....?
"A... A father? Are you certain, Satyana?" She didn't have to say yes, suddenly he could tell.
Issac hadn't had firm expectations of how he'd take news like this. The altmer laid back in his seat and mulled this over in his head.
He realized that Satyana was unsure of his reaction. Issac let out a breath. "This is a surprise...." Great, that was stupid.
"Satyana, this is fantastic!" He remembered talking about having a child during the war. Issac got out of his chair and knelt beside his wife.
He took her hand in his and smiled comfortingly. "Ian's going to want to hear about this."
If he knew anything in the world, he knew Ian would want to be here.
Rann/Altair
Rann strode into the Council Chambers after being questioned and having his weapons temporarily confiscated. Altair was sitting alone in the huge room with a seemingly genuine smile plastered on his face.
"Rann! I got the message you sent when you arrived in Anvil. How did you like your stay in the Isles?" Altair asked in greeting.
"It was..interesting," Rann answered, not knowing where to begin telling a year-long story.
"Well, I referred to to Orindion to learn about your heritage. What did you find out?"
"Not much, but I did some research with Orindion and something happened."
"Might I ask what?" Altair asked, though Veric could have easily guessed. Veric wasn't as generous with his information as Altair seemed to be.
"Well, Orindion isn't who we thought he was. He's the son of the Orindion we were looking for, but he still had his father's notes and some knowledge of his work. After a few days of studying, Orindion decided to cast some sort of spell on me to try to figure out what exactly this thing on my arm is. Something strange happened after that. I became...different. For weeks. I don't remember any of it, but Orindion said I was a madman."
"Strange..." Altair said, his voice trailing off.
"But let's speak of magical mysteries a little later," he started again suddenly, "When I received your message, I told Dalrus that you'd be arriving around midday. She should be here any minute now."
Rann strode into the Council Chambers after being questioned and having his weapons temporarily confiscated. Altair was sitting alone in the huge room with a seemingly genuine smile plastered on his face.
"Rann! I got the message you sent when you arrived in Anvil. How did you like your stay in the Isles?" Altair asked in greeting.
"It was..interesting," Rann answered, not knowing where to begin telling a year-long story.
"Well, I referred to to Orindion to learn about your heritage. What did you find out?"
"Not much, but I did some research with Orindion and something happened."
"Might I ask what?" Altair asked, though Veric could have easily guessed. Veric wasn't as generous with his information as Altair seemed to be.
"Well, Orindion isn't who we thought he was. He's the son of the Orindion we were looking for, but he still had his father's notes and some knowledge of his work. After a few days of studying, Orindion decided to cast some sort of spell on me to try to figure out what exactly this thing on my arm is. Something strange happened after that. I became...different. For weeks. I don't remember any of it, but Orindion said I was a madman."
"Strange..." Altair said, his voice trailing off.
"But let's speak of magical mysteries a little later," he started again suddenly, "When I received your message, I told Dalrus that you'd be arriving around midday. She should be here any minute now."
Dalrus, Council Chambers
As if by cue, Dalrus arrived as soon as Veric finished his last sentense. A rush of purple magic and Dalrus came into form in the doorway. Her hair was waving wildly from the rush of magic but soon subsided. Her emerald green eyes lit up when they caught sight of Rann.
"RANN!!" she screamed with delight as she ran towards him. She jumped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. She blushed right after doing this, she realized in her excitment that he might not have been interested anymore, not to mention Veric was in the room, and though they were good friends, he was more of a colleague.
As if by cue, Dalrus arrived as soon as Veric finished his last sentense. A rush of purple magic and Dalrus came into form in the doorway. Her hair was waving wildly from the rush of magic but soon subsided. Her emerald green eyes lit up when they caught sight of Rann.
"RANN!!" she screamed with delight as she ran towards him. She jumped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. She blushed right after doing this, she realized in her excitment that he might not have been interested anymore, not to mention Veric was in the room, and though they were good friends, he was more of a colleague.
Voltar
Leisurely flipping the page of the book, Voltar peered over the information contained within. Since Veric and him had started their "diplomacy", Voltar had gained access to the various texts that remained undamaged after the White Gold Tower was destroyed. Despite being a councilor, Voltar still had plenty of time to do anything he pleased so he decided that investigating the valuable and rare books held within the Tower could prove beneficial. So far, nothing revolutionary had been discovered but Voltar had always been the patient type, knowing that if there was something of worth within these books, he'd eventually find it.
He finished the page he was reading and glanced at the clock located in the room. The Council meeting was scheduled to happen fairly soon. Casually, Voltar marked his place in the book and closed it. Gathering up his robes, he snatched the Staff of Worldly Demise which was perched against the wall and began to make his way to the Council Chambers.
OOC: Voltar will arrive after Altair and Dalrus are done with Rann if you still have anything planned between them.
Leisurely flipping the page of the book, Voltar peered over the information contained within. Since Veric and him had started their "diplomacy", Voltar had gained access to the various texts that remained undamaged after the White Gold Tower was destroyed. Despite being a councilor, Voltar still had plenty of time to do anything he pleased so he decided that investigating the valuable and rare books held within the Tower could prove beneficial. So far, nothing revolutionary had been discovered but Voltar had always been the patient type, knowing that if there was something of worth within these books, he'd eventually find it.
He finished the page he was reading and glanced at the clock located in the room. The Council meeting was scheduled to happen fairly soon. Casually, Voltar marked his place in the book and closed it. Gathering up his robes, he snatched the Staff of Worldly Demise which was perched against the wall and began to make his way to the Council Chambers.
OOC: Voltar will arrive after Altair and Dalrus are done with Rann if you still have anything planned between them.
Rann
Before he even realized what was happening, Rann found himself in a tight embrace with Dalrus. Once the initial surprise wore off, though, a smile appeared on his face. It was good to be home.
"I'll be damned," he said, after some space appeared between them, "It's been a long time."
Before anything else could be said, Altair interjected by clearing his throat loudly to remind them of his presence.
"Just to warn you two, this may not be the best place for a reunion; there's a Council meeting here in ten minutes."
Rann heard Altair, but his eyes never once looked away from Dalrus, "After you," he said, gesturing towards the door.
Before he even realized what was happening, Rann found himself in a tight embrace with Dalrus. Once the initial surprise wore off, though, a smile appeared on his face. It was good to be home.
"I'll be damned," he said, after some space appeared between them, "It's been a long time."
Before anything else could be said, Altair interjected by clearing his throat loudly to remind them of his presence.
"Just to warn you two, this may not be the best place for a reunion; there's a Council meeting here in ten minutes."
Rann heard Altair, but his eyes never once looked away from Dalrus, "After you," he said, gesturing towards the door.
Karn, Valenwood
Normally, one would never imagine a Dunmer being in a giant tree, let alone content with the position. But the sensei of the Narza'Tai was beyond caring about inherited comforts and discomforts. Although his face was blank as he looked over the giant forest, he was undeniably triumphant.
The Narza'Tai had proven they had power, but this was a testament to their growing influence. Not hours ago had the Bosmer of this particular region agreed for them to establish several outposts. This was more than territorial rights, it meant the Narza'Tai had enough presence to have sway over entire provinces.
Karn reigned in his triumph, this revelation, however profound, made them no more invincible. But invincibility is only an illusion, we must be smart if we are to stand the test of time.
The sensei watched his followers follow the Bosmers' instructions as to contructing these outposts. They worked silently, no petty complaints, complete focus. To most of Tamriel, they appeared alien, as demonic and intimidating as the Deadra of Oblivion.
Karn approved of this image, but he was one of a few who could see more than the black cloaks and masks. He saw the beauty of immortal grace in mortal form. Since the war's end, the Narza'Tai's foundations became more solid. They were a true brotherhood, and the sensei wanted to see them further transcend the flaws other guilds of mortals had.
There will be no one to replace me, I am temporary, the brotherhood will be the last thing standing when Nirn is reduced to ash. He turned and walked away silently, noting the assassins and Bosmer villagers everywhere.
Indor, Imperial City
“A coin for an old veteran sir.”
Indor waved a beggar aside as he wandered though the temple quarter lost in thought. The old man was hobbling away when Indor turned. “Oi, you,” he said wrinkling his nose as the beggar hobbled round; it appeared the old man had contracted helljoint.
“Yes kind sir?”
“I have a question and I dare say you might have an answer,” Indor didn’t wait for a response, “I’m a travelling scholar doing research into certain magical objects. Do you know of anyone in the city who might be interested in such learning?”
“No doubt plenty would be interested but I suspects you wants them to have money too?” the beggar gave him a gummy smile, “You’re not from round here but I can help you. What’s it worth?”
At least he’s direct, thought Indor. “I haven’t any money, but I’ll bet your joints ache in the mornings.”
“Oh, something terrible sir.”
Indor pulled a potion from his bag, “This will cure it.”
The beggar nodded, “Not many have the money for learning now, but there are some mages rich enough. If you speak right they might help you up at the university, or you could try the council. Some of them are mages and all have money, not that they like to give it away,” the beggar scowled slightly, “There’s one other too, been here almost a year but he isn’t often seen. Altmer, old by his looks though I wander… He always wears brown and seems to be studying some sort of magic, ‘fraid that’s all I know of him though I could find out more…”
“Thank you, and I think you’ll find the benefits of this potion more than worth that information too,” Indor passed the beggar the bottle and the man hobbled off.
Indor cringed at the loss of another valuable potion but it couldn’t be helped. For a moment he stood in thought then turned east towards the university. Still a long shot but more likely than the council and the altmer in brown, well that would be a wild goose chase, at least until the beggar was sure the potion was what it claimed to be.
A short while later he was ascending the steps of the Arcane University, mages bustled here and there along with other people. He felt an edge of envy that they could command magic. Magic he studied but was entirely unable to perform. A mage stopped him in the entrance room, “Only member are allowed past here,” she said before haughtily brushing onwards.
He tried, unsuccessfully, to start conversation with another couple of mages before giving up and sitting on a bench by the wall. Eventually someone would notice him.
“A coin for an old veteran sir.”
Indor waved a beggar aside as he wandered though the temple quarter lost in thought. The old man was hobbling away when Indor turned. “Oi, you,” he said wrinkling his nose as the beggar hobbled round; it appeared the old man had contracted helljoint.
“Yes kind sir?”
“I have a question and I dare say you might have an answer,” Indor didn’t wait for a response, “I’m a travelling scholar doing research into certain magical objects. Do you know of anyone in the city who might be interested in such learning?”
“No doubt plenty would be interested but I suspects you wants them to have money too?” the beggar gave him a gummy smile, “You’re not from round here but I can help you. What’s it worth?”
At least he’s direct, thought Indor. “I haven’t any money, but I’ll bet your joints ache in the mornings.”
“Oh, something terrible sir.”
Indor pulled a potion from his bag, “This will cure it.”
The beggar nodded, “Not many have the money for learning now, but there are some mages rich enough. If you speak right they might help you up at the university, or you could try the council. Some of them are mages and all have money, not that they like to give it away,” the beggar scowled slightly, “There’s one other too, been here almost a year but he isn’t often seen. Altmer, old by his looks though I wander… He always wears brown and seems to be studying some sort of magic, ‘fraid that’s all I know of him though I could find out more…”
“Thank you, and I think you’ll find the benefits of this potion more than worth that information too,” Indor passed the beggar the bottle and the man hobbled off.
Indor cringed at the loss of another valuable potion but it couldn’t be helped. For a moment he stood in thought then turned east towards the university. Still a long shot but more likely than the council and the altmer in brown, well that would be a wild goose chase, at least until the beggar was sure the potion was what it claimed to be.
A short while later he was ascending the steps of the Arcane University, mages bustled here and there along with other people. He felt an edge of envy that they could command magic. Magic he studied but was entirely unable to perform. A mage stopped him in the entrance room, “Only member are allowed past here,” she said before haughtily brushing onwards.
He tried, unsuccessfully, to start conversation with another couple of mages before giving up and sitting on a bench by the wall. Eventually someone would notice him.
Sorian, Chorrol.
From where he had his encounter with the bandits, it was less than half an hour walk to the Chorrol. Sorian felt relief when he rounded a bend in the road and the walls of the city came into view.
"Ah, good old civilization." He muttered. Before continuing any further, he wrapped a white handkerchief around the blade of his Shamshir, a sign of peace.
At the gates, he was stopped by the guards. Both Legionnaires looked at the Redguard's sword for a moment.
"You will have to turn that thing in during your stay in the city." One of them said.
"Sorry, but I have to refuse." Sorian replied politely. The Legionnaire, a middleaged Imperial, shook his head resolutely.
"Listen. All privately owned weapons, no matter what type and who holds them, are to be given to the guards for safekeeping. It is a simple measure that has reduced bar brawl lethality by 70 percent. Unless you can show me a permit, I'm not going to take no for an answer." The man explained and reached out for the Shamshir.
Sorian stepped back and put a hand on the hilt.
"I said I have to refuse. This sword is more than just a weapon. It represenst the traditions of my people, their history, their triumphs and their losses. This weapon is the soul of my ancestors." He said. The Legionnaire was losing his patience.
"Spare me the spiritual nonsense and just hand over that sword already!" He spat.
"I SAID THAT I HAVE TO REFUSE!!!"
Sorian looked frantically from one Legionnaire to the other.
"Oh, now I've done it. They've drawn their weapons. I don't get it. Why are they so uptight about this? No one asked for my sword in Hammerfell." He thought. With a sigh of frustration, he drew his Shamshir.
"I guess Cyrodiil is just a backwards province."
"Please, sheathe your blades, sir guards. I harbor no ill will towards you but if needed, I will defend myself."
OOC: He's going to get owned. The moron.
Vasha, Cyrodiil.
Vasha felt a slight shiver run down her spine as she materialized. Out of habit, she peered left and right, but it seemed as if no one had noticed her arrival. She jumped down from the ledge to the street, ten metres below her. She moved swiftly to the end of the alley, while absentmindedly smoothing the fabric of her simple pilgrim's robe. The sooner she managed to mingle with the masses, the better. She could not afford to draw any attention, not in the enemy's lair.
She cast a glance at the White Tower and scowled.
"I approve of the reconstruction efforts, but they should have let that relic rest. It's wrecked state would have served as a good reminder never to trust those you don't truly know." She thought.
As she neared the end of the alley, she could feel the vibrations of countless feet flow through the cobblestones. She soon emerged at a bustling street and dove into the crowd. She glanced at both sides of the street. One side was held by a group of Legionnaires, the other by an equal number of Home Guard. Both seemed to keep an eye on each other rather than the citizens. Vasha resisted the urge to sigh.
"The war has never ended, only the players and means of engagement have changed." She said to herself.
"After I've finished my bussiness, I'll inquire towards the latest activities of Agrippa."
From where he had his encounter with the bandits, it was less than half an hour walk to the Chorrol. Sorian felt relief when he rounded a bend in the road and the walls of the city came into view.
"Ah, good old civilization." He muttered. Before continuing any further, he wrapped a white handkerchief around the blade of his Shamshir, a sign of peace.
At the gates, he was stopped by the guards. Both Legionnaires looked at the Redguard's sword for a moment.
"You will have to turn that thing in during your stay in the city." One of them said.
"Sorry, but I have to refuse." Sorian replied politely. The Legionnaire, a middleaged Imperial, shook his head resolutely.
"Listen. All privately owned weapons, no matter what type and who holds them, are to be given to the guards for safekeeping. It is a simple measure that has reduced bar brawl lethality by 70 percent. Unless you can show me a permit, I'm not going to take no for an answer." The man explained and reached out for the Shamshir.
Sorian stepped back and put a hand on the hilt.
"I said I have to refuse. This sword is more than just a weapon. It represenst the traditions of my people, their history, their triumphs and their losses. This weapon is the soul of my ancestors." He said. The Legionnaire was losing his patience.
"Spare me the spiritual nonsense and just hand over that sword already!" He spat.
"I SAID THAT I HAVE TO REFUSE!!!"
Sorian looked frantically from one Legionnaire to the other.
"Oh, now I've done it. They've drawn their weapons. I don't get it. Why are they so uptight about this? No one asked for my sword in Hammerfell." He thought. With a sigh of frustration, he drew his Shamshir.
"I guess Cyrodiil is just a backwards province."
"Please, sheathe your blades, sir guards. I harbor no ill will towards you but if needed, I will defend myself."
OOC: He's going to get owned. The moron.
Vasha, Cyrodiil.
Vasha felt a slight shiver run down her spine as she materialized. Out of habit, she peered left and right, but it seemed as if no one had noticed her arrival. She jumped down from the ledge to the street, ten metres below her. She moved swiftly to the end of the alley, while absentmindedly smoothing the fabric of her simple pilgrim's robe. The sooner she managed to mingle with the masses, the better. She could not afford to draw any attention, not in the enemy's lair.
She cast a glance at the White Tower and scowled.
"I approve of the reconstruction efforts, but they should have let that relic rest. It's wrecked state would have served as a good reminder never to trust those you don't truly know." She thought.
As she neared the end of the alley, she could feel the vibrations of countless feet flow through the cobblestones. She soon emerged at a bustling street and dove into the crowd. She glanced at both sides of the street. One side was held by a group of Legionnaires, the other by an equal number of Home Guard. Both seemed to keep an eye on each other rather than the citizens. Vasha resisted the urge to sigh.
"The war has never ended, only the players and means of engagement have changed." She said to herself.
"After I've finished my bussiness, I'll inquire towards the latest activities of Agrippa."
QUOTE(Dantrag @ Apr 28 2008, 03:26 AM) 
Rann
Before he even realized what was happening, Rann found himself in a tight embrace with Dalrus. Once the initial surprise wore off, though, a smile appeared on his face. It was good to be home.
"I'll be damned," he said, after some space appeared between them, "It's been a long time."
Before anything else could be said, Altair interjected by clearing his throat loudly to remind them of his presence.
"Just to warn you two, this may not be the best place for a reunion; there's a Council meeting here in ten minutes."
Rann heard Altair, but his eyes never once looked away from Dalrus, "After you," he said, gesturing towards the door.
Dalrus, Council Chambers
Dalrus smiled at Rann, the two of them seemed to be entranced with one another, she couldn't believe he was back, it certainly was very nice of Altair to tell her. She winked at Altair and walked out the door Rann was holding.
"Don't worry Altair, I'll be back before the council meeting," she said from the other room. She turned to look at Rann. Looks as good as ever, though so do I she thought to herself playfully. While she had been slightly put out when Rann had to leave, she had been so busy at the time she had not had time to be angry with him. She, Altair and Voltar started the council, and she had to redo the entire Arcane University, improving it. She had united all the masters of each school of magic and they had in turn made the Arcane University the mysterious place it should have been before. It was no longer the beaurocrat-run government establishment of before, the new University was a place of deep thought. This had taken such work that she thought Rann returned at the perfect time.
"So, I hope you missed me as much as I missed you," she smiled happily to Rann.
Rann
Rann smiled back, "I did," he answered, walking outside with Dalrus, "Whenever I wasn't getting shouted at and chased down by strange Altmer or getting prodded by spells, I was usually wishing you were there."
Rann smiled back, "I did," he answered, walking outside with Dalrus, "Whenever I wasn't getting shouted at and chased down by strange Altmer or getting prodded by spells, I was usually wishing you were there."
Voltar
Voltar stepped into the Council Chambers moments after Rann and Dalrus walked out. He glanced at Veric and smiled that small smile he always did when amused.
"It appears that your 'project' has returned. Care to fill me in?" Voltar ventured, his curiosity piqued.
Voltar stepped into the Council Chambers moments after Rann and Dalrus walked out. He glanced at Veric and smiled that small smile he always did when amused.
"It appears that your 'project' has returned. Care to fill me in?" Voltar ventured, his curiosity piqued.
Dan, near Chorrol
Dan lazily made his way towards the seat of County Chorrol, striding along the dirt tracks that led from his small homestead to the road leading to Chorrol. The road wasn't as well travelled these days as it was before the war with the Serpent-Men, but it suited Dan just fine. As far as he was concerned, there were far less merchants to crowd the roads and almost no bandits to prowl them in search for prey.
The shadows of war, however, always drew their own portion of phantoms. From broken men who had deserted from the armies fighting to outlaws that preyed on any abandoned hovels and cottages, looting whatever the owners had left in their haste to escape the ferocious onslaught of the Silhouette and his minions. Because of these dangers, and others which were far more insidious, Dan still carried his old sword, Balmung. He had left his mail hauberk at his home, though, piled neatly in a corner of his house. Despite its age, it had served Dan quite well during the trials of the war.
As Dan neared the gates of the city, he was surprised to see a heated argument between a lone Redguard and several guardsmen. The Redguard was alone yet he still held his blade high, ready to meet the guardsmen in combat. Judging by the odds, he was hopelessly outmatched, unless he was one of the Redguards who stayed true to their heritage, mastering the art of swordsmanship.
From the way he holds his blade, though, I doubt it. His stance shows uncertainty and a lack of confidence in himself. Perhaps raw skill and valour can make up for his poor stance. Still, best not to allow this to come to blood, either the Redguard's or that of the guardsmen, Dan thought as he hurried towards the gates.
OOC: Perhaps Dan can calm down the guardsmen and still let Sorian keep his sword?
Dan lazily made his way towards the seat of County Chorrol, striding along the dirt tracks that led from his small homestead to the road leading to Chorrol. The road wasn't as well travelled these days as it was before the war with the Serpent-Men, but it suited Dan just fine. As far as he was concerned, there were far less merchants to crowd the roads and almost no bandits to prowl them in search for prey.
The shadows of war, however, always drew their own portion of phantoms. From broken men who had deserted from the armies fighting to outlaws that preyed on any abandoned hovels and cottages, looting whatever the owners had left in their haste to escape the ferocious onslaught of the Silhouette and his minions. Because of these dangers, and others which were far more insidious, Dan still carried his old sword, Balmung. He had left his mail hauberk at his home, though, piled neatly in a corner of his house. Despite its age, it had served Dan quite well during the trials of the war.
As Dan neared the gates of the city, he was surprised to see a heated argument between a lone Redguard and several guardsmen. The Redguard was alone yet he still held his blade high, ready to meet the guardsmen in combat. Judging by the odds, he was hopelessly outmatched, unless he was one of the Redguards who stayed true to their heritage, mastering the art of swordsmanship.
From the way he holds his blade, though, I doubt it. His stance shows uncertainty and a lack of confidence in himself. Perhaps raw skill and valour can make up for his poor stance. Still, best not to allow this to come to blood, either the Redguard's or that of the guardsmen, Dan thought as he hurried towards the gates.
OOC: Perhaps Dan can calm down the guardsmen and still let Sorian keep his sword?
Savras
Chorrol
Having left his horse at the North County Stables, Savras headed for the southern gate but quickly came to a short halt as he noticed a lone Redguard and several guards outside the gate arguing about something, a serious argument that is, as he noticed the Redguard holding his blade at the ready. And not far behind, was an old Nord heading towards the men outside the gate.
Savras followed the steps of the Nord and walked up himself to the gate himself although he had no plans on helping out just yet.
OOC: Savras has better relations with Redguards, as he has trained with them for years and caring little about laws and regulations as explained, he'll most likely help out Sorian if anything happens but doubtfully kill the guards.
Chorrol
Having left his horse at the North County Stables, Savras headed for the southern gate but quickly came to a short halt as he noticed a lone Redguard and several guards outside the gate arguing about something, a serious argument that is, as he noticed the Redguard holding his blade at the ready. And not far behind, was an old Nord heading towards the men outside the gate.
Savras followed the steps of the Nord and walked up himself to the gate himself although he had no plans on helping out just yet.
OOC: Savras has better relations with Redguards, as he has trained with them for years and caring little about laws and regulations as explained, he'll most likely help out Sorian if anything happens but doubtfully kill the guards.
QUOTE(Lord Revan @ Apr 28 2008, 02:32 AM)
Issac
He nearly coughed a mouthful of tea. Issac swallowed finally and set the mug down carefully. Did she just say....?
"A... A father? Are you certain, Satyana?" She didn't have to say yes, suddenly he could tell.
Issac hadn't had firm expectations of how he'd take news like this. The altmer laid back in his seat and mulled this over in his head.
He realized that Satyana was unsure of his reaction. Issac let out a breath. "This is a surprise...." Great, that was stupid.
"Satyana, this is fantastic!" He remembered talking about having a child during the war. Issac got out of his chair and knelt beside his wife.
He took her hand in his and smiled comfortingly. "Ian's going to want to hear about this."
If he knew anything in the world, he knew Ian would want to be here.
Satyana
"Are you really happy about it, Issac?" Satyana was still a bit unsure, she knew this wasn't the best of times to put an innocent child on earth, but still, they did it together and some things just are bound to happen.
"We'll have to tell Ian, as soon as possible...but I'd like my mother to know....and Rahvin! He'd be happy about it....I think" she added with some uncertainty in her voice.
OOC: I'm just going to do Sorian and let you guys respond in any way you like. 
Sorian, Chorrol gates.
"I will only say this one last time. Surrender your weapon, or we will take it from you by force." The Legionnaire said slowly. His colleague nodded.
"Please understand. It is a symbol. I have no intention of using it against anyone." Sorian pleaded.
The Legionnaire smirked.
"I hope it is a symbol worth dying for. Self-righteous punk!" He shouted and charged, his companion following close behind.
"Now you're trying to kill me?!" Sorian gasped as he sidestepped the first legionnaire. The second one however had anticipated this move and sidestepped as well while swinging his broadsword.
"Please stop!" Sorian yelled as he blocked the blow. The handkerchief he'd wrapped around his Shamshir was unceremoniously cut in two by the colliding blades. In a daze, Sorian's eyes followed the shredded kerchief.
"I meant no harm." He thought. His eyes snapped back to the Legionnaire. He broke off contact and jumped back.
"If you continue to fight me, I will have to..." Sorian was cut off by a fist that collided with the back of his head. He fell forward, relinquishing his hold on his sword.
"Idiot, there are two of us!" The first Legionnaire growled.
Sorian, Chorrol gates.
"I will only say this one last time. Surrender your weapon, or we will take it from you by force." The Legionnaire said slowly. His colleague nodded.
"Please understand. It is a symbol. I have no intention of using it against anyone." Sorian pleaded.
The Legionnaire smirked.
"I hope it is a symbol worth dying for. Self-righteous punk!" He shouted and charged, his companion following close behind.
"Now you're trying to kill me?!" Sorian gasped as he sidestepped the first legionnaire. The second one however had anticipated this move and sidestepped as well while swinging his broadsword.
"Please stop!" Sorian yelled as he blocked the blow. The handkerchief he'd wrapped around his Shamshir was unceremoniously cut in two by the colliding blades. In a daze, Sorian's eyes followed the shredded kerchief.
"I meant no harm." He thought. His eyes snapped back to the Legionnaire. He broke off contact and jumped back.
"If you continue to fight me, I will have to..." Sorian was cut off by a fist that collided with the back of his head. He fell forward, relinquishing his hold on his sword.
"Idiot, there are two of us!" The first Legionnaire growled.
Dan, near Chorrol
Dan watched with slight annoyance as the guardsmen attacked the Redguard. He never really liked that about guards, they were so quick to draw conclusions...and blades in haste, without properly considering the situation. Gritting his teeth, Dan made wider strides and grasped the hilt of his broadsword, ready to intervene if need be.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Dan shouted telepathically as he started to run lightly. His telepathic boom was sure to get their attention.
Dan, however, had not caught sight of the other traveller who was in the same area, close to the gates.
Dan watched with slight annoyance as the guardsmen attacked the Redguard. He never really liked that about guards, they were so quick to draw conclusions...and blades in haste, without properly considering the situation. Gritting his teeth, Dan made wider strides and grasped the hilt of his broadsword, ready to intervene if need be.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Dan shouted telepathically as he started to run lightly. His telepathic boom was sure to get their attention.
Dan, however, had not caught sight of the other traveller who was in the same area, close to the gates.
OOC: Seeing as I'm bored *cough* in class *cough* *cough*, I'll jump in.
Amili, Chorrol
"And then, ya'll wont beleive this one, it was me against a whole slew of the bastards. They also had me cornered, but I managed to take the lot of 'em out. All I came out with was this lil scratch." Everyone, except for a lone fighter, leaned across the table in order to get a better view.
"Hahaha! Yes, you killed every last one of them, Hodrid, I'm sure." Amili turned away from the lot to grab her silver claymore from the rack and fasten it to her back. "Well kids, I have to go run a letter off towards the supplier in the Imperial City. I'm sure I'll have stories when I come back. You know how the roads are getting."
Amili shook her head and pushed open the door, leaving behind calls from her friends and welcoming the fresh breeze through her hair. She smirked when she saw a group of kids chasing each other with sticks as she passed by the Great Oak.
As she neared the gates, Amili had to push her way through a small, but growing, crowd of people. The sight on the other side was depressing. From what she could tell, two guards, whom she has had trouble with in the past, were attacking a traveler and another was jumping into the fray. "Bloody 'ell."
Not even bothering to unsheathe her sword, Amili ran into the pit and swung an armored fist at the head on an unsuspecting guard in an attempt to just get his attention.
Amili, Chorrol
"And then, ya'll wont beleive this one, it was me against a whole slew of the bastards. They also had me cornered, but I managed to take the lot of 'em out. All I came out with was this lil scratch." Everyone, except for a lone fighter, leaned across the table in order to get a better view.
"Hahaha! Yes, you killed every last one of them, Hodrid, I'm sure." Amili turned away from the lot to grab her silver claymore from the rack and fasten it to her back. "Well kids, I have to go run a letter off towards the supplier in the Imperial City. I'm sure I'll have stories when I come back. You know how the roads are getting."
Amili shook her head and pushed open the door, leaving behind calls from her friends and welcoming the fresh breeze through her hair. She smirked when she saw a group of kids chasing each other with sticks as she passed by the Great Oak.
As she neared the gates, Amili had to push her way through a small, but growing, crowd of people. The sight on the other side was depressing. From what she could tell, two guards, whom she has had trouble with in the past, were attacking a traveler and another was jumping into the fray. "Bloody 'ell."
Not even bothering to unsheathe her sword, Amili ran into the pit and swung an armored fist at the head on an unsuspecting guard in an attempt to just get his attention.
Savras
Chorrol
Savras unsheathed his sword but kept it low, pointing towards the ground as he walked towards the guard who had just planted his fist in the back of the Redguard's head.
Just as the guard noticed Savras coming up behind him, Savras reached out towards the guard with his left hand and just as the palm touched the surface of the armor a small flick of light was released. Before the guard could even notice his equipment suddenly felt much heavier he was kicked in the back by Savras, sending him stumbling forward before falling to his knees by burden spell. As the guard was struggeling to even keep himself on his knees, Savras walked up to him, placed his foot on the guard's back and pushed him face down into the ground before he maneuvered his curved blade down against the guards neck.
OOC: Ok, Soul posted quicker - so let's just say I took the one remaining
Chorrol
Savras unsheathed his sword but kept it low, pointing towards the ground as he walked towards the guard who had just planted his fist in the back of the Redguard's head.
Just as the guard noticed Savras coming up behind him, Savras reached out towards the guard with his left hand and just as the palm touched the surface of the armor a small flick of light was released. Before the guard could even notice his equipment suddenly felt much heavier he was kicked in the back by Savras, sending him stumbling forward before falling to his knees by burden spell. As the guard was struggeling to even keep himself on his knees, Savras walked up to him, placed his foot on the guard's back and pushed him face down into the ground before he maneuvered his curved blade down against the guards neck.
OOC: Ok, Soul posted quicker - so let's just say I took the one remaining
QUOTE(Dantrag @ Apr 29 2008, 02:24 AM)
Rann
Rann smiled back, "I did," he answered, walking outside with Dalrus, "Whenever I wasn't getting shouted at and chased down by strange Altmer or getting prodded by spells, I was usually wishing you were there."
Dalrus, Council Chambers
"Aww, you're so sweet," she said half heartedly. "Why did you go? I mean I know Altair and you have talked about it, but...we could have used your help, I could have too." she said, not angrily but she was no longer quite as playful. "I mean, if what you did was incredibly important, but..I just don't know why you left me...er I mean all of us," she looked up into his eyes. Some of her hair fell over her left eye but she did not push it back.
Agrippa, Legion Fort
"Lazy patrol Captains, I should have them all whipped for their insolence," muttered Agrippa as he took his seat in his office. The fact that he was General was certainly not hidden here. His official paper stating his position was framed on the wall above his seat. All his old armor pieces were on display in glass cases. The room was of oak with the white and gold curtains and the navy blue cloth of the provincial legions. On each side, outside of his door, stood two Imperial Guards, another piece of proof that his life was valued, for the white and gold clad Imperial guards were better trained than any others, save the Hands of Almalexia, though her existance was debateable to Cyrodiilians.
There was a knock on the door. "You may enter," he said haughtilly as he spun his chair to look out the window. Agrippa always felt it best to do this when visitors came, lest they thought his attention was fully on them. He looked out the window for at least a minute, though he was really just planning to turn around, and thinking of his words. "Oh, so very sorry, I had almost forgotten you were coming," he lied. He knew they were coming, and in fact had his armor polished, his desk polished, the floors swept and polished and the curtains dusted. He had a habit of doing this before any guest came that had any remote connection to someone important.
The courier was obviously confused as to why he had said enter and then claimed he was not expecting anyone, however, he let this pass and placed a report down on the desk. "Umm, a report from the General of Valenwood," he said uncertainly as Agrippa placed an ornate glass container full of Flin on the desk.
"Come now Garrius, sit, have a drink," said Agrippa in what he thought was a fatherly voice, though it came out as though Agrippa was dimwitted.
"Umm sir, I am just a courier, shouldn't I just leave?" he said hopefully.
"Now now, your father is a councilor correct?" he said with an heir of one who wants to sound as though it is insignificant.
"Well, yes, that's why you specifically asked for me to be the courier isn't it?" said Garrius
"Oh did I? I had almost forgotten," said Agrippa, mentally smacking himself because he did not want Garrius's father Lucius finding out he had planned this.
After an incredibly awkward 15 minutes in which Agrippa had attempted to non-chalantly compliment Garrius's father, but had worded it so that it sounded as if he wanted to execute him, Garrius put his foot down. "Sir I really must go, I just remembered, umm, we're under attack so I'll catch you later," he said after pushing away his third glass of Flin. It was a pathetic lie, but Garrius did not wait for Agrippa to reply and left in haste, scowling as he stubbed his besandled toes on the way out.
"Tell your father about our fun little get together, won't you," called Agrippa, completely ignoring the fact that Garrius had claimed they were under attack. Agrippa smiled to himself and waited for his next visitors...
OOC: Agrippa, though idiotic and cruel, is also kind of a funny character. Metal, did you want Flogir and him to meet, they can now if you want.
QUOTE(minque @ Apr 29 2008, 01:14 PM)
Satyana
"Are you really happy about it, Issac?" Satyana was still a bit unsure, she knew this wasn't the best of times to put an innocent child on earth, but still, they did it together and some things just are bound to happen.
"We'll have to tell Ian, as soon as possible...but I'd like my mother to know....and Rahvin! He'd be happy about it....I think" she added with some uncertainty in her voice.
Issac
He comforted her. "Satyana, we talked about raising a child together during the war. Now that it's coming true, we ought to make the most of this chance rather than wish things were different." Issac cupped Satyana's cheek and gently lifted her face so their eyes could meet.
His mind cleared and his comforting was much more sincere. He smiled, "Let's not doubt for a second what we've been blessed with. We weren't raised under the best of circumstances but look at us now, my love." Issac leaned forward and delicately kissed Satyana on the forehead.
Sorian, Chorrol.
"Ow." For a moment, Sorian saw a bright burst flash behind his eyelids. When he came to, he was lying facefirst on the ground.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Sorian heard the shout, but his mind blurred it out.
For how long he remained unconscious, he didn't know. All he knew when he came to was, that the guards were trying to kill him and that he was in a very vulnerable position.
"My sword, where is it?!" Was the first thought that came to him. He forced his eyes to open and searched the street around him frantically. Fortunately for him, his sword lay within arm's reach. He grabbed it and rolled over once before, a bit awkwardly, getting back on his feet.
"Now that's dirty." He said slowly to the guards. He then noticed that the guards were occupied by two other persons. More specifically, by a Dunmeri woman and a tanned Imperial. Both seemed to dominate the very same guards that had just wiped the floor with him. Around them, a small crowd had gathered and was still growing.
"Err...what's going on?" He asked warily after taking in the new situation for a moment. His sword hung limp at his side, nearly forgotten.
Just then, another man arrived at the scene. He was a Nord, and in Sorian's eyes an ancient one. The Nord, the Dunmer, the Imperial and himself were the only ones holding weapons. If one discounted the guards. Sorian rubbed the back of his head which felt just as sore as his face.
"Where did they all come from? How long have I been unconscious?"
"Ow." For a moment, Sorian saw a bright burst flash behind his eyelids. When he came to, he was lying facefirst on the ground.
"Stop it you fools! The Serpents have barely left and already you're killing each other!" Sorian heard the shout, but his mind blurred it out.
For how long he remained unconscious, he didn't know. All he knew when he came to was, that the guards were trying to kill him and that he was in a very vulnerable position.
"My sword, where is it?!" Was the first thought that came to him. He forced his eyes to open and searched the street around him frantically. Fortunately for him, his sword lay within arm's reach. He grabbed it and rolled over once before, a bit awkwardly, getting back on his feet.
"Now that's dirty." He said slowly to the guards. He then noticed that the guards were occupied by two other persons. More specifically, by a Dunmeri woman and a tanned Imperial. Both seemed to dominate the very same guards that had just wiped the floor with him. Around them, a small crowd had gathered and was still growing.
"Err...what's going on?" He asked warily after taking in the new situation for a moment. His sword hung limp at his side, nearly forgotten.
Just then, another man arrived at the scene. He was a Nord, and in Sorian's eyes an ancient one. The Nord, the Dunmer, the Imperial and himself were the only ones holding weapons. If one discounted the guards. Sorian rubbed the back of his head which felt just as sore as his face.
"Where did they all come from? How long have I been unconscious?"
Amili, Chorrol
Amili picked up the slightly dazed guard she had punched and pushed him up against the stone wall. Looking around she noticed that the other had been incapacitated by a stranger. After giving a curt nod to the stranger and turned back to the guard. "Okay, guard," Amili spoke the rank as if it were an insult, "just what the hell do you think you are doing? Preying on random travelers? Are you two so bored that you have nothing better to do?"
The guard glared back at Amili, "That traveler of yours assaulted us!"
Amili forced herself not to laugh, "That redguard? Look at how he's holding that sword. Even if he did assault the two of you, one could easily has dispatched of him. I think you two were just being troublesome."
The guard tried to speak some feeble protest but was silenced by Amili's glare. She proceeded to roll her eyes and push him into the dirt.
Amili walked over to the Imperial, the Redguard, and, surprisingly, a aging Nord. Addressing the Redguard, Amili gave a slight smile, "You aren't hurt, are you? Those pricks can be a royal pain."
Amili picked up the slightly dazed guard she had punched and pushed him up against the stone wall. Looking around she noticed that the other had been incapacitated by a stranger. After giving a curt nod to the stranger and turned back to the guard. "Okay, guard," Amili spoke the rank as if it were an insult, "just what the hell do you think you are doing? Preying on random travelers? Are you two so bored that you have nothing better to do?"
The guard glared back at Amili, "That traveler of yours assaulted us!"
Amili forced herself not to laugh, "That redguard? Look at how he's holding that sword. Even if he did assault the two of you, one could easily has dispatched of him. I think you two were just being troublesome."
The guard tried to speak some feeble protest but was silenced by Amili's glare. She proceeded to roll her eyes and push him into the dirt.
Amili walked over to the Imperial, the Redguard, and, surprisingly, a aging Nord. Addressing the Redguard, Amili gave a slight smile, "You aren't hurt, are you? Those pricks can be a royal pain."
QUOTE(Florodine of Hlaalu @ Apr 29 2008, 04:07 PM)
Dalrus, Council Chambers
"Aww, you're so sweet," she said half heartedly. "Why did you go? I mean I know Altair and you have talked about it, but...we could have used your help, I could have too." she said, not angrily but she was no longer quite as playful. "I mean, if what you did was incredibly important, but..I just don't know why you left me...er I mean all of us," she looked up into his eyes. Some of her hair fell over her left eye but she did not push it back.
Rann
Rann hadn't expected his joke to change the entire mood of the conversation, but since it had, he was forced to finally explain himself.
"After the battle was over, everyone found their niche, you know? Altair with his democracy, you with the guild, Flogir with his militia, hell, even that Karn bastarde found a group to lead. What did I do? I helped rebuild some houses and helped relocate refugees. I know this sounds stupid, but I had no goal to work towards until Altair and I found some information about my heritage, and I wasn't going to let the opportunity to figure it out pass me by."
He smiled a little and brushed Dalrus' stray hair back behind her ear, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, but I didn't think it was fair to make you leave your position to go chase after a stupid dunmer headed for Summerset Isle."
QUOTE(The Metal Mallet @ Apr 29 2008, 02:37 AM)
Voltar
Voltar stepped into the Council Chambers moments after Rann and Dalrus walked out. He glanced at Veric and smiled that small smile he always did when amused.
"It appears that your 'project' has returned. Care to fill me in?" Voltar ventured, his curiosity piqued.
Altair
"He walked into a very elaborate trap, that one," Altair commented, "It may take some time for him to realize it, though."
Just then, another Councilor, this one from High Rock, entered the room. The meeting was to begin soon.
"We will speak more of this later, Voltar. Business calls now."
Dalrus, Council Chambers
Dalrus knew Rann was being honest, he was right. She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry it's just that...I really missed you," she said, putting as much tenderness in her voice as she could. I hope he feels the same way. "Oh! I better get in there!" she said indicating towards the door. She turned towards the council chambers...
Dalrus knew Rann was being honest, he was right. She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry it's just that...I really missed you," she said, putting as much tenderness in her voice as she could. I hope he feels the same way. "Oh! I better get in there!" she said indicating towards the door. She turned towards the council chambers...
Rann
"I'll catch up to you later," he said as she walked back towards the Council Chambers, "I'm guessing I can find you at the University?"
"I'll catch up to you later," he said as she walked back towards the Council Chambers, "I'm guessing I can find you at the University?"
Dalrus, Council Chambers
"Yes, I'm usually always there, though of course I do leave from time to time, but for about half my time I am at the university." She thought about doing something before leaving, but decided not to the guy should be the first to do it she thought to herself as she walked into the chambers. She came in to find most of the people already there. The leader of the fighters guild gave her a nod and so did the representative from the Summerset Isle. She took her seat next to Altair and Voltar.
"Yes, I'm usually always there, though of course I do leave from time to time, but for about half my time I am at the university." She thought about doing something before leaving, but decided not to the guy should be the first to do it she thought to herself as she walked into the chambers. She came in to find most of the people already there. The leader of the fighters guild gave her a nod and so did the representative from the Summerset Isle. She took her seat next to Altair and Voltar.
Ian
The sun had risen in the sky, and the vampire paused a moment to feel its warmth on his skill. To think that this warmth is the bane to all other breeds, it certainly gives us advantages. Ian attached his pack to the saddle of his horse.
Since the war's end, he'd realized he could just run or hitch-hike to his destinations anymore. When he'd begun looking for one to purchase many shied away or displayed anxiety at his approach. Eventually the one he chose was the only one that could look him in the eye without being cowed.
Kirana, who had spent the weeks prior collating names, teased Ian with the name Nosferatu. Nosferatu, as he came to be called, soon proved herself to be more than dauntless. As was common knowledge, white horses were only surpassed in speed by the less tough black horses that used to be sold in Cheydinhall.
During the five months she'd been in Ian's ownership, Nosfertu had proven to be quite a fighter (much to Kirana's amusement) kicking a bandit's teeth out. Ian made a habit of not wearing his bloodied armor on the rodes, opting to wear a simple traveler's cloak.
The vampire patted her on the neck and mounted her nimbly. Without any coaxing, Nosferatu leapt over the stable's fence and onto the road.
The sun had risen in the sky, and the vampire paused a moment to feel its warmth on his skill. To think that this warmth is the bane to all other breeds, it certainly gives us advantages. Ian attached his pack to the saddle of his horse.
Since the war's end, he'd realized he could just run or hitch-hike to his destinations anymore. When he'd begun looking for one to purchase many shied away or displayed anxiety at his approach. Eventually the one he chose was the only one that could look him in the eye without being cowed.
Kirana, who had spent the weeks prior collating names, teased Ian with the name Nosferatu. Nosferatu, as he came to be called, soon proved herself to be more than dauntless. As was common knowledge, white horses were only surpassed in speed by the less tough black horses that used to be sold in Cheydinhall.
During the five months she'd been in Ian's ownership, Nosfertu had proven to be quite a fighter (much to Kirana's amusement) kicking a bandit's teeth out. Ian made a habit of not wearing his bloodied armor on the rodes, opting to wear a simple traveler's cloak.
The vampire patted her on the neck and mounted her nimbly. Without any coaxing, Nosferatu leapt over the stable's fence and onto the road.
Rann
Rann walked outside then, in an attempt to clear his head. He hadn't expected to see Dalrus, and therefore was completely unprepared for all subsequent conversations. He did love Dalrus, but he hadn't expected to have to deal with that emotion quite so soon. It was more than he could ask for, the fact that she didn't seem to hate him despite the fact that he left the country for a year.
Dalrus is the only woman that's ever made me act so stupid. I'm pretty sure the first word I said to her was a curse word. Oh well, I'm pretty sure there was spark, unless I just said enough stupid sh*t to put it out.
Rann walked outside then, in an attempt to clear his head. He hadn't expected to see Dalrus, and therefore was completely unprepared for all subsequent conversations. He did love Dalrus, but he hadn't expected to have to deal with that emotion quite so soon. It was more than he could ask for, the fact that she didn't seem to hate him despite the fact that he left the country for a year.
Dalrus is the only woman that's ever made me act so stupid. I'm pretty sure the first word I said to her was a curse word. Oh well, I'm pretty sure there was spark, unless I just said enough stupid sh*t to put it out.
Flogir, on his way to the Council Chambers
Flogir was busily making his way to the Council Chambers when he caught sight of a familiar friend. Rann was facing away from him but he still clapped a meaty hand on the Dunmer's shoulder.
"Rann! Long time no see," he said with a grin. "You stickin' around for awile now? We should catch up sometime soon. Just come visit me in my office at the Home Guard barracks. It's just east of the Tower once you exit it."
Everything he said was basically in a rush as he knew the meeting was close to beginning. Hopefully the fact that he really didn't give Rann time to answer anything didn't bother the young mer.
He stepped into the Council Chambers and returned the greeting to those present, he noticed that Agrippa had yet to make his arrival. He took his place near the end of the table. His position didn't hold much sway as he only looked after the Imperial City solely, many of the other representatives had whole provinces to look after or entire Legions to look after. Still, he felt privileged that he was at least recognized as a figure of some importance and participated somewhat in these meetings.
OOC: Flogir will pull Agrippa aside after the meeting, Floro.
Flogir was busily making his way to the Council Chambers when he caught sight of a familiar friend. Rann was facing away from him but he still clapped a meaty hand on the Dunmer's shoulder.
"Rann! Long time no see," he said with a grin. "You stickin' around for awile now? We should catch up sometime soon. Just come visit me in my office at the Home Guard barracks. It's just east of the Tower once you exit it."
Everything he said was basically in a rush as he knew the meeting was close to beginning. Hopefully the fact that he really didn't give Rann time to answer anything didn't bother the young mer.
He stepped into the Council Chambers and returned the greeting to those present, he noticed that Agrippa had yet to make his arrival. He took his place near the end of the table. His position didn't hold much sway as he only looked after the Imperial City solely, many of the other representatives had whole provinces to look after or entire Legions to look after. Still, he felt privileged that he was at least recognized as a figure of some importance and participated somewhat in these meetings.
OOC: Flogir will pull Agrippa aside after the meeting, Floro.
Dan, outside Chorrol
Dan sheathed his sword, grateful that he had no cause or need to use it. Two strangers had done that for him, forcefully dispatching the guards. They seemed to be skilled, as well as well armed. One of them had a fearsome silver claymore which shone brightly in the sun, while the other had an overall threatening demeanour, and a knowledge of spells to match, judging by the way he dispatched one of the guards.
The vigour of youth. If only I was young once more, I could have dove right in and cleaved left and right with no care for the consequences. Boys straight out of childhood fear nothing after all, but old men know better.
Dan remembered the days of his youth, the days when he could still talk and not just let his sword do the talking for him. But then he remembered that he had done the greatest things in his life with solely his sword, during the siege of the Imperial City. He had slain many foes, and crossed blades with a fearsome champion of the enemy host twice, a feat that not many could boast to have accomplished. Only his few companions could say that, but Dan had not heard about them for quite some time. Of course, living much like a hermit in the mountains generally hardens human contact. Nevertheless, Dan still remembered his former battle-mates.
Rann, with his grim demeanour and fell anger in combat, the Breton Flint Ironwood, with his many japes and pessimistic way of thinking, Rann's sister Amrita, with her dark attire and even darker spells and Jon Constantine, with his drunken stupors.
Such times, however, were gone and Dan was actually grateful for it. Wars were a necessary part of life, but that didn't mean Dan liked them. Neither did he like killing, but it was the only thing he was good at. Exceptionally good at, some might say.
Dan sheathed his sword, grateful that he had no cause or need to use it. Two strangers had done that for him, forcefully dispatching the guards. They seemed to be skilled, as well as well armed. One of them had a fearsome silver claymore which shone brightly in the sun, while the other had an overall threatening demeanour, and a knowledge of spells to match, judging by the way he dispatched one of the guards.
The vigour of youth. If only I was young once more, I could have dove right in and cleaved left and right with no care for the consequences. Boys straight out of childhood fear nothing after all, but old men know better.
Dan remembered the days of his youth, the days when he could still talk and not just let his sword do the talking for him. But then he remembered that he had done the greatest things in his life with solely his sword, during the siege of the Imperial City. He had slain many foes, and crossed blades with a fearsome champion of the enemy host twice, a feat that not many could boast to have accomplished. Only his few companions could say that, but Dan had not heard about them for quite some time. Of course, living much like a hermit in the mountains generally hardens human contact. Nevertheless, Dan still remembered his former battle-mates.
Rann, with his grim demeanour and fell anger in combat, the Breton Flint Ironwood, with his many japes and pessimistic way of thinking, Rann's sister Amrita, with her dark attire and even darker spells and Jon Constantine, with his drunken stupors.
Such times, however, were gone and Dan was actually grateful for it. Wars were a necessary part of life, but that didn't mean Dan liked them. Neither did he like killing, but it was the only thing he was good at. Exceptionally good at, some might say.
Sorian.
The woman had asked him something.
"Hurt, pricks? Is she on a first name basis with them or something?" He thought.
"Err...I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He stammered only half-coherent.
"Oh, and umm...thanks for the help, I guess." He added with a quick bow.
"Not that I needed it but still, thanks."
He was refinding his capacity to think by now.
"Ok, so they basically jumped the guards after that one acted dishonourable by striking from behind. I can get that. Which reminds me." He bent down and picked up both halves of his handkerchief. With a sigh, he tied both halves together before wrapping it around the blade of his Shamshir again. Finally, he sheathed the sword. Or rather, he simply tucked the naked blade behind his sash.
He next shifted some of his attention to the Imperial.
"I'd like to offer you my gratitude as well, sir. Much obliged."
The woman had asked him something.
"Hurt, pricks? Is she on a first name basis with them or something?" He thought.
"Err...I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He stammered only half-coherent.
"Oh, and umm...thanks for the help, I guess." He added with a quick bow.
"Not that I needed it but still, thanks."
He was refinding his capacity to think by now.
"Ok, so they basically jumped the guards after that one acted dishonourable by striking from behind. I can get that. Which reminds me." He bent down and picked up both halves of his handkerchief. With a sigh, he tied both halves together before wrapping it around the blade of his Shamshir again. Finally, he sheathed the sword. Or rather, he simply tucked the naked blade behind his sash.
He next shifted some of his attention to the Imperial.
"I'd like to offer you my gratitude as well, sir. Much obliged."
Sorin, outside of chorrol:
'I need to use the stall' sorin muttered.
Shifting his drowzy eyes, he noticed the gates at chorrol.
Raising his calloused fingers at the gate, he marched towards the gate guards in a swerving, drunk motion.
'Out of the way, monkeys!' he blurted to the mob up front of the gate. Noting the redguard, he lapped his arm around him and demanded; 'Oi! I need u turr.... open the gatessss mate!' he said, blowing a frosty air of mead at the well dressed fellow
'I need to use the stall' sorin muttered.
Shifting his drowzy eyes, he noticed the gates at chorrol.
Raising his calloused fingers at the gate, he marched towards the gate guards in a swerving, drunk motion.
'Out of the way, monkeys!' he blurted to the mob up front of the gate. Noting the redguard, he lapped his arm around him and demanded; 'Oi! I need u turr.... open the gatessss mate!' he said, blowing a frosty air of mead at the well dressed fellow
Savras
Chorrol
With the female Dunmer keeping the second guard under control and the Redguard got up, Savras pulled back his blade from the guard's neck but kept his blade out, just incase. Taking in note what the Dunmer woman had just said to the guards it seemed that they had caused more problems than preventing them.
Savras nodded in return to the Redguards gratitude.
"You might want to dedicate some more of your time in training with a blade, just an advice..." Savras commented in a rather serious tone, knowing a Redguard should know his blade better. "...so you won't get killed by the likes of these." He added as he looked down on the guard who had a foot pressing down on his neck.
Chorrol
With the female Dunmer keeping the second guard under control and the Redguard got up, Savras pulled back his blade from the guard's neck but kept his blade out, just incase. Taking in note what the Dunmer woman had just said to the guards it seemed that they had caused more problems than preventing them.
Savras nodded in return to the Redguards gratitude.
"You might want to dedicate some more of your time in training with a blade, just an advice..." Savras commented in a rather serious tone, knowing a Redguard should know his blade better. "...so you won't get killed by the likes of these." He added as he looked down on the guard who had a foot pressing down on his neck.
Sorian.
"Well...I uh..." Before he could say anything else, an obviously drunk Dunmer put his arm around his neck while demanding that he opened the gates.
"That's not my task...sir." Sorian answered with unconcealed disgust.
"Stupid drunkard."
He jabbed a thumb at the two guards.
"You might want to ask those two fellas. Though I doubt that they're in a good mood right now."
"Well...I uh..." Before he could say anything else, an obviously drunk Dunmer put his arm around his neck while demanding that he opened the gates.
"That's not my task...sir." Sorian answered with unconcealed disgust.
"Stupid drunkard."
He jabbed a thumb at the two guards.
"You might want to ask those two fellas. Though I doubt that they're in a good mood right now."
Sorin, chorrol front gates
'Aww, theys.... look kinda angry' he stated. Poping open another bottle of mead, he moved his arm off the redguard to his bottle of the sweet elixer. Compressing the bottle, he relesed ica magicka to the bottle, taking a fare portion of the mead.
'Gdday....mate... nice dress!' he pointed out. Staggering to the men with the dunmer woman, he pointed at them, gliding his finger from the two guards, to the lady.
'Oi! I need this gate opened....I gotssto pee....and I need another bottle of mead' he smiled. Blowing a air mixed with ice magicka and mead, he tapped at the gate and leaned on it, slowly dosing off.
'Aww, theys.... look kinda angry' he stated. Poping open another bottle of mead, he moved his arm off the redguard to his bottle of the sweet elixer. Compressing the bottle, he relesed ica magicka to the bottle, taking a fare portion of the mead.
'Gdday....mate... nice dress!' he pointed out. Staggering to the men with the dunmer woman, he pointed at them, gliding his finger from the two guards, to the lady.
'Oi! I need this gate opened....I gotssto pee....and I need another bottle of mead' he smiled. Blowing a air mixed with ice magicka and mead, he tapped at the gate and leaned on it, slowly dosing off.
Indor, Arcane University entrance
Indor had been on the bench for quite a while. He had managed to strike up conversation with one old mage but, though interested, such things weren’t his field of research. He sat watching the steady flow of people and thinking. He would hide his belongings somewhere that night - if it came to it he could always disappear.
To pass the time he started reading over his notes and re-examining the crystal shards. Soon the work absorbed him but not as it sometimes could. He still remembered to look up now and then to try to speak to anyone how might be interested, he even offered to do any other jobs they might want doing.
I don’t want to be thrown out of my house, he thought, Once was enough.
Indor had been on the bench for quite a while. He had managed to strike up conversation with one old mage but, though interested, such things weren’t his field of research. He sat watching the steady flow of people and thinking. He would hide his belongings somewhere that night - if it came to it he could always disappear.
To pass the time he started reading over his notes and re-examining the crystal shards. Soon the work absorbed him but not as it sometimes could. He still remembered to look up now and then to try to speak to anyone how might be interested, he even offered to do any other jobs they might want doing.
I don’t want to be thrown out of my house, he thought, Once was enough.
Amili, Chorrol
Amili raised her brow at the drunkard's use of the generic chilling touch spell and then pulled the guard off the floor. "I do suspect that this gentleman is talking to you, guard."
Amili then left the guard to deal with the drunk, or vice versa, and turned to the imperial, "You know, I do thank you for your valiant hand in this, but I will have to ask you to remove yourself from the guard. This is technically assault."
Amili raised her brow at the drunkard's use of the generic chilling touch spell and then pulled the guard off the floor. "I do suspect that this gentleman is talking to you, guard."
Amili then left the guard to deal with the drunk, or vice versa, and turned to the imperial, "You know, I do thank you for your valiant hand in this, but I will have to ask you to remove yourself from the guard. This is technically assault."
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