Private The Last Dragonborn

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk put the wood axe on his back and searche for small trees to cut down. "It was... it was not Virk's fault!" He lookeddown while venturing in the wilderness. "Virk's mother, Beatrice, told him his father was... betraying the Wiing family. He was pouring poison in every town person's ears about Virk and Beatrice. And she somehow... with her r...red eyes, she convinced Virk his father would have to be dealt with through bloodshed." Noticing he wasn't clear enough, he added. "Beatrice... is a vampire." In fact the most terrifying creature Virk could picture. "She had it all planned, even before she told Virk." He made an effort not to cry or gag in is words. "His father was hunting that day... and... Virk's mother told him to kill him in the woods, where no law would apply. Forgive Virk but he doesn't want to say his name..." He failed to hold it and began to sob and cry silently. "Virk met him drinking from a lake, and readied his shiv. He hurled it to please his mother and eviscerated his heart. Virk still managed to get final words uttered by his father. He said..."Son... Why?" And passed away in my hands." Sometimes the imperial's weighty pain was enough to speak of himself in first person. "Virk went back to his mother and she spoke she was pleased. Oh... I cried, but she comforted me." He finally spotted a good tree and beggan chopping it down. "Virk thought he had done the right thing... but then..." His tone shifted to an angry one. "She met a guard. And soon they were in love. Surely Virk could stand love, even though he never managed to fall in love and always envied those who did, but he met... both of them in bed. He defiled Beatrice!" With his rage, he cut the log faster and soon the tree was down with a noisy impact. Virk then proceeded to chop the log in small thick pieces. "Virk wouldn't still kill a man for that, he wanted, but no. That was until he had met Beatrice's lover in the guards of Whiterun's barracks drunken speaking about an animal. Virk thought it was a goat or a cow. But then.. he spoke about it with affect. That man was talking about my mother! So, when Virk lured him to the Hall of Dead through a fake myth of Draugr, he pierced through his head with a shiv. He just did it for Beatrice! Please understand! And please, I beg of you, if you ever find her, don't tell her Virk murdered her lover." He gave her a few logs, not very gentleman like and wiped the tears of his face. "What does Anya think?"

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Well, I'm done skinning and filleting it, so as soon as I can get some water I'll get started on making soup. Do you think you could conjure me some water as well?"

 

[heliumradio]

As soon as Virk mentioned his mother's red eyes and her desire for bloodshed, Anya understood. She listened to his story, nodding sympathetically when he began to cry. She was surprised at the way his speech changed as he described it, and she realized he must have loved his mother very much. Perhaps he still does.

He dumped a few logs into her arms, and if she hadn't started to get used to his odd, abrupt behavior, it would have annoyed her. She adjusted the logs so she wouldn't drop them. "I think we do what we must. Vampires are seductive creatures, and love can be a dangerous thing." She looked up at him. "I've killed too, and for far less honorable reasons."

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Seryn walked into the cave and took a seat on her bedroll, clutching the wound so that it wouldn't be seen. It would stop bleeding soon. She silently watched as the others prepare to make food. At the word 'soup' Seryn grimaced and turned away. Words could not express how much she HATED soup. It was disgusting, slimy, and the worst thing ever created. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, her thoughts went back too the strange attacker and she skimmed through her thoughts for answers. Suddenly, she remembered. "Blades Armor..." she muttered to herself. I saw a drawing of it some books once when I performed a burglary. So that was a Blade, hm? They're close...or perhaps it was just idiotic luck. Regardless, the man was determined and skilled. Seryn glanced over her shoulder at the others. They better be prepared for the fight of their lives....

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk and Anya were walking towards the cave, the imperial smiled towards Anya's comprehension. "Well... Why would Anya kill any... Aaah!" He fell down when he stumbled on a corpse and all the firewood he was carrying fell on the floor rolling. He chuckled a little, still unaware of the corpse, until he finally spotted it. "What happened?" Virk wasn't shocked at all, as the dead person was not an acquaintance of his. He began picking up the firewood and stacking it on his arms.

 

[heliumradio]

The armor on the corpse was strange, something Anya had never encountered. She'd traveled quite a bit in the name of thievery, but the look was foreign to her. She turned to Virk and gave him some of the logs she was carrying. The rest she dropped on the ground.

"I'm sorry, but this is necessary." Anya pulled the arrow from the dead man's head and held it up, her eyes narrowed. She picked up the strange shield on the ground and looked at Virk. "Come on." She walked back to the cave, strode over to the Nightingale, and threw the shield into the dirt in front of her. "You were attacked," Anya said. "You were attacked, and you didn't bother to warn anyone else. I suggest not trying to deny it. I also suggest telling us what happened before I lose patience with you." She held up the ebony arrow, her voice a low growl.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"I think I should probably..." Roggvar trailed off as he saw Seryn, laying on her bedroll. She looked both stunning and bored, but the drops of blood dotting her armor said otherwise. He rushed over to her. "What the hell happened?"

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Seryn rolled her eyes at the attention she was receiving. "It was just a encounter. Nothing more" she glared at Anya and sneered, "I suggest you watch your tone with me" she warned. Her eyes closed as she calmed herself, "There was a Blade scouting nearby...whether or not he knew where we were or if he just stumbled by on accident, remains too be seen. I think, however, that he just saw me as a passing elf and as a quick loot. It's possible that they do not know who we are yet" Seryn looked up at the other elf, "Shall I repeat that..perhaps slower?" she said venomously. This woman needs too watch herself...she has too sleep...I do not.

 

[Humbungala]

Commotion started to rise. Irelius conjured water using a trick he learned back at Winterhold. Since mages cannot learn a school of magic such as water, using frost and then melting it with fire serves as a replacement. The nightingale entered the cave and shortly following her was Virk and the other female elf. Irelius joined in, to find out what had happened. The nightingale claimed to be attacked by a blade and Irelius raised his eyebrows. How convenient. We hadn't even started training and already blood has been spilled. The other female elf was furious. Her temper is worse than a hagraven's. "Hey, Ms. Grumpy, lighten up." Irelius' eyes turned to the nightingale, "and you, talk more. With that settled, can we eat? I'm starving." Irelius turned back around, walked toward the cooking pot and sat by the soon-to-be soup. His stomach grumbled again. At this moment, filling his stomach was all that mattered.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Irelius! If you know any restoration magic, now would be the time to help. I'm going to see if I can find a plant I know of that will help stop the infection. Soup can wait." Roggvar rushed out the door, his face feeling hot and his vision blurring as he searched. As he rounded the trail, he saw by the bed of a river, the plant he was looking for. He pulled the Imp Stool mushrooms from the mossy, wet soil under a thick tree and quickly popped them in his pocket, sprinting as quickly as he could back down the trail to the cave.

 

[Humbungala]

Irelius had forgotten that he could heal the nightingale. He possessed adequate healing, nothing too amazing but certainly sufficient for minor wounds. Mr. Green left before Irelius could tell him that infection won't necessarily have to be prevented if he heals the wound. He returned to the nightingale's side and placed his hand on her wound. He closed his eyes and his hands began to glow. After a few moments the wound closed, the skin fresh and tender. "That should do it. Take care you don't get a cut there again, that'll make a mess of things." Irelius stood up and took his place by the pot.

 

[Snoball]

Remy couldn't help but jokingly disagree with Irelius's stick comment. He thought to himself. "Pshh... every stick is broken if it won't let me make fire. Stupid nature." All that was left was to begin adding the ingredients to the pot and commence stirring, it wouldn't be that simple of course. The wood elf had returned from her small outage with a wound Anya seemed to have caught on to. Thus stopping what everyone had been doing. With tension rising between the elves, Remy chose to step in. He could see the look of unwanted attention on the woman's face, but wanted to make sure the injury wasn't serious.

"It's alright, friends. Let's not take this out of proportion. If anything it was probably minor." He leaned in closer to inspect the minimal blood seeping from her armor after the healing Irelius had performed. Remy saw the annoyance in her eyes, and shuddered a bit, taking a step back. "I'll uh, get back to the soup" He didn't want to piss her off, but needed to see the abundance of blood left on the armor. Now wasn't the time though, best not add fuel to the fire. With Roggvar leaving so suddenly, the soup would have to wait a bit longer.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya straightened her back and looked down at the the Nightingale, towering over her, and let her face become calm again. "Watch myself? Or what?" She tilted her head. "Do you think I survived this long on luck? Do you think I can't fight someone like you? Your title means nothing, girl."

"Hey, Ms. Grumpy, lighten up," Irelius said, but Anya kept her gaze on the other elf. "You're a member of Forsworn. I'd know that bow anywhere. Your people are not trustworthy, and you are proving to fit that type well." She turned back to the others. "She has no way of knowing if there are more of them. To assume so is foolish." She glanced at the Nord boy. "You are hopelessly young, so you can be forgiven. Perhaps you too, mage. Perhaps all of you. But I saw the war and what silence and arrogance will do to people. It is damning, I promise."

She returned her gaze to the elf. "You wear your silence like a shield. At any other time, I don't care, but if the rest of us could be at risk because of it, then keeping silent is a selfish choice. Either we all fight this Dragonborn or we will die."

Remy said something about blowing it out of proportion, and Anya shook her head. She didn't move or back away, but she certainly began to question her choice to stay. If she was the most experienced person in the group, she wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of it.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

"Is Anya ok?" Virk had never seen her that mad. He put the firewood in a pile in the corner of the cave and a few of it in the form of a fireplace so it could be lit. "Whenever Irelius feels like it, the wood can be ignited." He then looked at the group that was having a struggle due to the Nightingale's silence on unconvinient time. "Excuse Virk if he doesn't know much of battle issues, but if the man was a scout and now lies dead, why is everyone worried? He couldn't tell anyone about the group's hideout without going somewhere first. We are allright. Aren't us?"

 

[heliumradio]

"If he was a lone scout, which is doubtful." Anya's tone softened a little when she realized it was Virk asking. "But if they are as good as they're supposed to be, they didn't send a lone scout. We should be on our guard." She rubbed her eyes and sighed.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

The glare Seryn gave Anya was one filled with hate and disgust and maybe...just maybe..a hint of pain. You could insult her all day and she would not openly complain. But too speak ill of her heritage was unforgivable. Seryn could not help who she was, where she came from, or anything like that so why...why did this elf, along with nearly everyone else, hate her. Had her creation been a mistake? Was her very existence a sin? Her face went blank as she masked her emotions. She stood, opened her mouth too thank the only two who had thought too help her, but shut it. She turned and walked deeper into the cave. It took a while for her too find a place where she would not be able too hear anyone or anything, but she did and so she sat down against the cold rock wall. They wonder why I am silent....They wonder why I seem too look at everyone with such hate...They wonder why I'm filled with rage. Yet they are blind too see that they are the very reason why. Seryn closed her eyes and clenched her jaw in anger. She wanted too scream, too let everyone know that she was a living being! That she felt just like everyone else! But it was just in her nature, her very being, her soul....to be silent.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

Roggvar arrived on time to see Irelius heal Seryn's stomach gash with restoration magic, bright plumes of white and yellow light slithering from his hands around the wound, closing it. The Altmer then unleash a fury of upset words, some too quick to be understood by the ranger's acute ears. "Hey!" Roggvar jogged up to face the tall, distinguished elf. "She almost died, okay? Maybe your 'higher race' has more important things to think about, but I'm going to make sure she's okay." He then turned his attention to the entire group, waving his hands in large, dramatic gestures as he spoke, "We've all been a little reckless, and if the Greybeards are right, we're the only thing between the Dragonborn and complete occupation of Tamriel. We need to stay inside, and be careful with every step we take. Seryn should be fine, but what if he had aimed better? What if she had died?" Silence fell like a hammer when he stopped speaking. "And where is bloody Arngeir?"

 

[heliumradio]

Rage billowed up into Anya's eyes, real rage, not just the frustration she'd felt a moment before, and she turned on Roggvar, moving close and staring down at him. "I am nothing like my race, boy," she seethed. "Or I would have killed you the moment I arrived. She did NOT almost die. That wound was minor. You're only upset because you are attracted to her." She wanted nothing more than to smack the boy upside the head, but it would solve nothing if she did. Instead, she pulled her amulet of Talos out from beneath her armor and held it up. "I am not my people. It's not my pride we're fighting about, it's hers." She didn't turn away from the boy, but she meant for her words to address the group. "Elves are not trustworthy. They are raised on their arrogance. I was not. Insult me like that again, little boy."

Arngeir stepped out from another section of the cave. "Anya," he said. "Roggvar is his name, and I'm certain he did not mean to offend. He is trying to preserve peace, though perhaps his method was not the best. Please, we must begin training. Everyone try to remain calm and sort out this dilemma without physical fighting." He nodded toward Anya, and she looked down at Roggvar, glaring. Arngeir headed down into the cave until he found Seryn alone. "How is your wound?"

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Her eyes opened as Arngeir spoke. Seryn looked at him and then at the ground, "Tender, yet fine. Thank you" she said, trying too be polite. She took her hand away from the split in her armor, showing the pink healed skin. There was a chance it would leave a scar. Seryn sighed and covered it back up with her hand again, "I am sorry for any trouble I caused". She muttered too the Greybeard, whom she respected.

 

[heliumradio]

Arngeir nodded. "It was not only you. In the future, if you do face an attack, it would be prudent to warn the rest of us not only so we can protect ourselves but also because we can help you. I'm aware you are quite talented, which is why you're here, but this will be a group effort." He began to walk back, ushering Seryn to follow. "Do not begin to doubt yourself because of Anya. You are, unfortunately, a member of two groups she is not particularly fond of. Both elves and the Forsworn have cost her a great deal. I will speak to her when I have a chance, but we really must train. Come along."