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    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Averaine had been ready to step in with Aliah, and cut the beast down, if it came to that. He was greatly surprised when Alice, seemingly, managed to talk down the were-beast. "The Brotherhood of the Northern plains. I come to hunt them". That struck the knight as suspicious. There were no were-bears in Skyrim, which made it extremely unlikely. So, for that reason, even when the creature dropped to cover behind the statue, he didn't sheathe his sword. To Shadari, who stood at the ready beside him, he said quietly, "remain wary. This creature may speak of hunting the whitescars, but his arrival is a little too convenient for my liking"
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    "What did you learn at your meeting?" Salthar sighed. He would have liked to say that the council had declared an all out war on the brotherhood, and ordered Skyrims legion into combat against them. "The council refuses to believe the northerners present any threat to Skyrim, or the rest of the world. They've deemed them a minor threat, and since the new emperor listens to them closely, the Imperials will take no action. However, the head of the order did give me, and by extension, the rest of us, to investigate. Once the others return, we will be departing. I feel that time is of the essence" the Altmer sorcerer explained. What he suspected, but did not voice aloud, was his suspicion that the warlord of the north would not remain in the north for very long. In his experience, rebellious leaders, and chaotic warmongers were never content with what they had. Salthar feared that war was coming, and neither the Empire nor the southern holds were prepared for it.
     

    Blackwhite1223

    Well-Known Member
    Torin was as surprised as the others when the were-bear spoke of his intentions. A flash of scarlet caught the rangers attention, and he diverted his attention from the statue the lycanthrope had vanished behind to look. Averaine stood with Shadari, and both watched the statue intently. Averaine said something to his companion, and Torin noticed the doubt displayed on the knights face. Torin considered the bears words. It wasn't completely impossible that the man was lying. He doubted the northern holds were overtly kind to anyone of a non-Nordic heritage, and he remembered the lycanthropes natural form was an Orc.

    However, that brought up the question of why the creature had led the guards, and the companions on such a chase throughout the city. It would have saved him much danger, as Torin very much doubted any of the companions would have hesitated to cut him down. Torin himself would have loosed his arrow if the beast would have attacked. He sympathized with those that could not control their darker natures. Being friends with the vampire knight, Averaine, who's day to day was a struggle to restrain the blood-drinking beast inside, had taught him to respect such people. But he would not allow someone to harm an innocent.

    The pitter patter of shoes striking the cobblestones of the market square caught his attention, and Torin scanned the crowd, seeing a much shorter figure running towards Alice, and, more importantly, the were-bear that had vanished behind the Talos statue. The beast may have been changing to his natural form, but the ranger had seen the Orc fight. A sharp blow could kill the girl. And the guardsmen were all on edge, and a sudden disturbance could prove fatal for the child. Torin quickly made his way towards her, replacing his arrow back in the quiver on his back, and angling towards the girl. He reached her when she was but a dozen metres from the open square. He grabbed her with his free arm, as his other hand still held his strung bow, and gently, turned her away from the square. "Wait. The danger is still present, and your sister would be most displeased should something happen to you" he explained.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    Shadari arrived with Averaine to see Alice talk the were creature down. And she also heard the Orc explain that he'd come to hunt the 'brotherhood of the Northern plains'. He hopped down behind the statue, and judging from the sounds, started to change back to his normal form. She lowered the throwing dagger, but held it at her side, instead of replacing it on her belt. Apparently, Averaine shared her concerns about the Orcs sincerity. "remain wary. This creature may speak of hunting the whitescars, but his arrival is a little too convenient for my liking"

    Shadari snorted.
    "Of course he's saying that. He knows we'll kill him, otherwise. What would you say in his position?" She asked, then winced as she realized who she was talking to. After months of talking with, and fighting alongside Averaine, she knew he'd never surrender to an enemy, not even if refusal meant his death. His knightly code simply wouldn't allow it. She had no such code, but she didn't hold it against the vampiric knight. Having seen him fight, she doubted Averaine would ever be in a position where he needed to decide between surrender and death. "Sorry", she said, "stupid question"
     
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    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    Palace of the Kings, Windhelm
    In the palace of the kings, the great hall stood barren. The table used for feasting was gone, leaving an open area. At one end of the hall was a throne, sitting on a platform, which three wide steps lead up to. In the throne sat a man, with broad shoulders, a lean body, and a noble bearing. The mans hair was black, and descended to the base of his neck. His skin was pale, with a greyish tinge to it, and his eyes were a pale, ice blue, that held a penetrating gaze that would have made even a battle hardened warrior pause. He wore a tunic of dark blue material, with shining chainmail over it. His hands rested on the arms of his throne, the fingers tapping out a rhythm on the wood.​
    At intervals at either side of the hall stood men, bedecked in dark grey steel plate armour, with a white surcoat over it. They were the knights of the brotherhood. The man in the throne, known only as Azeraile, lord of the north, was their leader. And the founder of the Whitescars. The Whitescars were the few that still held the beleifs of Ulfric close to their hearts. They alone would force the elves and lizards and cats and Imperials out of Skyrim. And those Nords that were too cowardly or faithless to join with them, well, they'd be dealt with appropriately.​
    These thoughts pleased Azeraile, but not as much as they could have. There were still those that resisted the brotherhoods purpose. A purpose to reunite Skyrim after Ulfrics death. After his assassination. Betrayed by those he'd trusted, if the remainder of the Stormcloak forces were to be believed.​
    Azeraile had returned to Windhelm, with his likeminded brothers behind him the whole way. It took the brotherhood and entire week to deliver justice to the Imperial garrisson, the Argonians, and Dark elves. By the time it was all over, the Argonians and Dark elves were either dead or enslaved. And Windhelm was back in the hands of true Nords. That had been two months ago. Since then, Azeraile had sent out a call for all Nords to return to Windhelm and prepare to take the North, and then the rest of Skyrim from their enemies. Hundreds had answered his call, and dozens more came in every week.​
    His thoughts strayed to his...condition. Though from a distance, the unique colouration of his skin was not noticeable from a distance, anyone close to him was sure to notice it. And the skin was only the beginning. His skin was cold to the touch, and capable of withering flesh at will. However, he was not a vampire, or some other creature of undeath. He was something...trapped in between the realms of the living and the dead. Not that he was ungrateful, of course. He'd been brought back from the edge of death, after he'd been nearly killed by a prisoner at one of the Stormcloak forts near Dawnstar.​
    He was shake out of his reverie by the approach of a robed human. Glancing over at the Imperial, he kept a disdainful sneer in check. He didn't have much respect for mages, or magic users, but Jorn Blackstone had proven valuable. He had brought soldiers loyal to him, as well as other magic users, something that the brotherhood had sorely lacked before then. And the same force that had repaired his body had sent Jorn to him, or at least, so the mage claimed. "What is it, Blackstone?"
    The mage, the tattoos on his face seeming to move of their own volition, smiled. "They are coming.I have seen it during my morning meditations." Azeraile didn't bother asking who they were. The mage was purposefully vague, which was, in short, rather irritating. But, knowing that someone had finally taken notice of the brotherhoods activities in the north was a clear sign that the time to retake Skyrim was close now. " We will be ready. And we will triumph. The master demands it" he said, using the only title the mysterious power that had brought about his current state of existence had given him. The mage inclined his head once more, obscuring the tattoos from view, turned, and shuffled away.
     

    WindWalker

    Well-Known Member
    Julius breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the creature allowed itself to be talked down, and hopped off the statue. Julius could tell from the frowns and glares directed at the statue some of his companions didn't really beleive that it was there to help. Julius wasn't so sure himself, but if it hadn't started attacking, he wasn't about to order the guards around him to charge. They probably wouldn't listen to him anyways. Alice stood exposed, and as much as Julius wanted to yell for the men to form a shield around her, he had to accept she wasn't defenceless. Besides, Aliah was beside her, and the Altmer woman wouldn't let anything bad happen. Probably.

    So, instead of yelling for a charge, he motioned some of the men that looked like they weren't too tippy, and they silently, well, as silently as armoured guards could be, slinked forwards. Hopefully, they'd be able to take the monster down if he tried anything else. He sheathed his sword, but kept his hand on the grip, just in case the creature decided to attack anyways.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    "The brotherhood of the northern plains. I come to hunt them." Was all the werebear said before it dropped down on the well kept grass around the statue and began to shift back. Julius motioned some of the men to surround the creature but none of them charged. It was probably more out of fear than restraint, the fear on Julius' face was plain as day, but Alice was able to sigh with relief all the same. She stole a look at him and saw that he was afraid for her. He wanted to protect her. He was so sweet. She was impressed he held back though. It showed that he trusted in her command and that he had grown up some. Six months ago he would have moved to shield her without a second though. Now he trusted her enough to let her do her job.

    Alice's mind turned back to Cilla. She wasn't here so someone had obviously stopped her but Alice needed to see where she was. She closed her eyes and gave a visible sigh of relief when she saw Torin holding her little sister back. Alice was mad at Cilla for being so reckless but relieved beyond belief that she was okay. Now able to focus entirely on the beast, Alice kept her hands at her sides and stepped forward. Her light imperial armor fit her body closely and she looked frail and young wearing it. The leather-reinforced skirt barely made it halfway down her thighs, the short cloth sleeves showed more of her upper arms than her father was comfortable with and she wasn't wearing a helmet. Her brown leather boots came up to just below her knees. Overall she looked more like a scout than a commander but that's how she liked it. It was easier to deceive enemies, and unruly monsters, if she looked like a twelve year old girl playing solider.

    The bear had finally shifted back and revealed itself to be a male orc. He was exhausted and kneeling beside the statue. Alice walked over and squatted down to get eye level with him, never making herself seem threatening. Wild animals became confused when you didn't respond to force in kind. So did men and werewolves. She figured werebears were the same. Besides, if this orc ended up choking her to death or banging her head open against the statue her men would simply kill him.

    The orc seemed scared or ashamed at what he'd done but Alice understood how he felt. She took one of his large green hands into her small, soft cream colored ones and rubbed it gently. "Shhhhh." She soothed. "It's all over. I need you to come with us. It's not safe for you here. Can you walk?" She figured that when he said the brotherhood of the northern plains he meant the Whitescar Brotherhood. They needed to find out what his intentions were but that wasn't important right now. They needed to get this man off the streets.

    Cilla responded to Torin's strong grip as he stopped her headlong charge. She was frustrated but kept quiet when she realized the monster her big sister was staring down was much bigger that she thought. And all the guards made her wary of the danger. She still wanted to help though. She looked up to Torin. "Alice needs our help Mr. Torin. That bear's gonna eat her! We have too..."

    She watched in both fear and amazement as the bear man shifted back into an orc!

    "Did you see that!?" She shouted, pointing at the orc. "Wooooow! That monster turned into an orc! Look Mr. Torin! It's like a werewolf but a bear instead! I've never seen anything like that before! Do you think he likes honey!?"
     

    T. Rakinson

    A Brute among Beasts
    Within moments it was over, along with all the other aspects of Mortality.
    Shork's Bonemould armour had fallen off back at the tavern, yet somehow his Mining clothes had remained with him, albeit torn & exposing.
    Yet the Orc didnt really care about public opinion right now. He found his eyes fixed downwards, staring at his now humanoid hands.
    Seemingly frozen, he was almost glad when an unseen hand appeared to help him, yet Shork recoiled upon its touch. He could still smell magicka on the palm, & it wasnt a pleasent aroma based on recent events. Yet what really made Shork jump was the softness. That was new to Shork, & he didnt like it.
    Unsurprisingly, it was the adolescent from before offering help; a clever guise for her scheming type. He had half a mind to swat her, roughly in the direction of the stone statue, but then remembered that she had been the only person to assist in his calming. He shook off some residing hairs & alowed himself to be pulled up.

    The Adolescent seemed to be trying to tell him something, but his ears didnt seem to be working properly. Shork tried to make out what she was saying by reading her lips, but suddenly found his arms being forced behind his back. The orc didnt offer any resistance; not as a sign of defeat, but out of desire to yield. He painfully craned his neck to see two guards hoisting him up, perhaps on the girls orders. Turning to confirm this, the adolescent seemed almost angry in appearance, but he wasnt sure if it was aimed at him or not as the guards, tipsy themselves, dragged him up a mountainous stone staircase, to the cheers of the majority viewing the spectacle.
    Odd's were that he was being taken to the local dungeon. That wasnt too big of a problem; he was an alcoholic. Jail wouldent be new to him, for Shork had spent more than his share of nights in the Bulwark, much to his Brothers dismay & dissapointment. The problem was, why was a staircase necessary!
     

    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Averaine involuntarily winced at Shadaris' choice of words, but didn't hold it against the assassin. If he were to take offence at every unintended insult, or intended, for that matter, he would have slaughtered hundreds by now. Instead, he merely inclined his head, showing that he understood what she meant. He gave her a thin lipped smile when she understood her mistake and apologized. "Don't mention it. I'm just glad we were able to resolve the conflict without any unnecessary loss of life." Then he glanced back towards Breezehome. "Let's go. I'm sure Salthar is done with his meeting, and I doubt it's wise to keep him waiting" with that, he sheathed Goldbrand, and turned on his heel. Despite knowing the confrontation was over, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the Orc. If the threat in the north was as great as Salthar believed, the companions would need all the help they could get.

    He spied both Elizabeth and Salthar standing together near Breezehome, the young woman looking curious, the elder vampire impatient. The knight closed the distance quickly, eager to inform the others on what had occurred. "Salthar, Elizabeth. I apologize for keeping you waiting, but there was quite a commotion at the inn. It appears a were-bear, one of those creatures from the island of Solstheim, was there" he announced. "Ordinarily, this would not be of note, but the creature claimed to be in Skyrim hunting the whitescar brotherhood. Though, he only mentioned this once we, and a substantial number of guards had him cornered. I believe he may be worth speaking with."
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Aliah sheathed her sword and watched as Alice talked to the beast. Surprisingly, it hopped down from the statue, and moments later, changed back into it's other form, that of a well built orc. Guardsmen approached, and chained the orcs hands, before taking him towards the whiterun dungeons. Aliah watched them go with narrowed eyes.

    If she would have been in charge of the orcs imprisonment, there would have been dozens of guards, and he'd be in irons an instant after his transformation. But, the city was under Alices' authority, and it wasn't good form to question a leaders authority in front of her men. Shaking her head, she approached Alice, and tapped her arm. "We should return to your house. Now that we've finished up here"she suggested. Some of the others were standing nearby, but it seemed like they were a little less on edge than they'd been a minute ago.
     
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    Stormmaiden

    Active Member
    Lythare replaced her arrow in her quiver, as Alice managed to talk the creature, who'd reverted to it's original form of an orc warrior. Honestly, she was surprised the orc had given himself up so quickly. From her experience, most lycanthropes, once cornered, they tended to fight to the death.

    Not that she'd been looking forwards to fighting a berserk lycanthrope. She watched as the orc was taken towards dragonsreach, probably the dungeons. She didn't think the jarl would want to grant him an audience. Noticing Torin speaking with Alices little sister, Lythare turned and headed back towards Breezehome. It seemed the situation had been resolved, and the danger, for now, was over.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    With a simple nod from Alice the guards bound the Orc and took him up the steps to Dragonsreach. Six were with him and his bonds were tight but he wouldn't be mistreated. He would be bathed, given prison clothes and then locked in the dungeons. Once he'd had a chance to recover and was fed Alice would interrogate him herself. No doubt many of the men wanted to cage the orc up like an animal and take turns beating him like a leather bag or throwing him scraps of meat. No one would dare do it while Alice was in the city. She and her father had made it very clear that prisoners were to be treated properly and free from abuse. If they weren't treated properly and Alice or her father heard about it, and they would, the guards responsible would be fired on the spot. Her father had fired several himself over the last year. Alice didn't have as much pull but being a general's daughter and having the ear of the Jarl meant that she had many powerful friends.

    "That's a good idea." She said to Aliah when she suggested they head back home. The danger was past and they were no longer needed. Most of their companions were relaxing and Lytharre was already heading back. Alice took the opportunity to head over to Torin and Cilla. With an audible sigh of relief she pulled Cilla close and gave her the longest hug she had ever had. Cilla knew she was in trouble but was relieved to have Alice hugging her instead of scolding her. She eagerly returned the hug.

    "Francilla Elizabeth Psyrakon, what in Mara's name were you thinking!?" Alice yelled, dizzy with relief and anger and her voice reflecting both. She released Cilla, gently grabbed her shoulders and stared daggers into her eyes. "You nearly got yourself killed Cilla! Why?! Why did you do that!? Just because you survived one dangerous adventure doesn't mean you get two!"

    "I just..." Cilla started, caught off guard by Alice's "scolding mother" look and unprepared to respond. "I...I wanted to help Alice. During our adventure last year I was always the slowest. Always the weakest. Everybody had to help me and everybody watched me to see if I was safe. I felt like a burden. I just...I just wanted to prove that I could be strong and brave like everybody else..."

    "And how does taking on an orc werebear change any of that!? That's not brave Cilla that's foolhardy! You're ten years old! You're still a child! What do you think papa would say if you died!? What do you think he'll say when he finds out about this!? If you were a commander and you had a soldier who ran ahead of everyone else what would you do!? You would execute him Cilla!!"

    Cilla's composure broke at the last sentence. Two tears rolled down her round face and she ran back to Breezehome. She was fully crying by the time she got to where Elzabeth and Salthar were. Alice was shocked by her own words and couldn't do a thing but watch and put a hand to her mouth. Than she saw that Lythare, Aliah and Torin had watched the whole thing and were looking at her. It was with concern but Alice interpreted it as judgement. For all the time she was on this world she had never raised her voice at Cilla. Not once. Now she had just told her she deserved to be executed.

    "Mara's mercy, what have I done...?" Alice said with tears in her eyes. She fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands, crushed with guilt. "I'm sorry Cilla." She sobbed. "I'm so sorry. Divines please forgive me I'm so sorry!"
     

    Blackwhite1223

    Well-Known Member
    Once the werebeast was taken by the guards, and the threat had been dealt with, he loosened his grip on Cilla, though he couldn't help but smile at her excited antics. His smile faded as Alice came over, her expression a mix between sterness and relief. He took a step back as she launched her tirade. Some of it seemed harsh, but overall, Torin agreed with her. Cilla may have been a burgeoning mage, but even mages could find them selves in serious trouble against a creature like the were bear.

    He winced as the girl started to cry. He wanted to help her, he really did, but his forte was not comforting children. Keeping them out of danger? Of course. Navigating the wilderness on his own, for days, sometimes weeks at a time? Easy as breathing for the veteran ranger. But comfort....before he could offer even paltry reassurance, she tore off, sobbing towards the Psyrakon home. Alice, evidently distressed, sank to her knees, sobbing. Cursing his wordlessness, he silently placed a calloused hand on her shoulder. Noticing Aliah nearby, he shot her a helpless glance.

    He noticed both Averaine and Lythare had departed, probably to meet up with Elizabeth and Salthar. Hopefully Elizabeth would be able to help. The two were kindred spirits, of a kind, and Cilla had always liked the Imperial healer.
    "Alice...You meant well" he pointed out awkwardly. "She will accept your explanation, given a little time" hoping the young captain understood what he meant, he lapsed into silence again.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    Averaine left after the were bear was taken into custody and marched off. Shadari didn't know what was going to happen to him after that, and didn't really care, either. She wasn't sure what the penalty for climbing on statues and threatening to destroy them was. Not death, probably. Most likely, he'd spend a nice long time cooling off in Dragonsreach dungeon. Either way, he wasn't their problem anymore. She turned away from the market square, heading back towards Breezehome. Salthar was already there, and Averaine was talking to him, about the orc, no less. Shadari scowled. "You're joking, right? That Orc is more crazy than useful. I say just leave him to rot." She said.
     
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    T. Rakinson

    A Brute among Beasts
    With credit to the Bulwark & its owners, at least they kept their prison presentable.
    Though Shork had by no means been expecting a luxurious captivity, this came close to taking the cake for 'Worst places to spend the night'. His cell, though not claustrophobic, was only so because there was nothing in it. Also, while he had the place to himself, Shork could tell the cell had recently had an alternate occupant. He could smell sweat, blood, &... other disturbing natural substances without having to rely on his beastly senses. No guard had shown up to clean the place for its new occupant, never mind offer him anything in the way of cleaning. The Nords probably never planned to do so, but even if they had it was unlikely anybody wanted to enter the Animals cage.

    It was true. His little scene outside had given Shork a proceeding reputation in the prison. The duo who had dropped him off had been quick to leave, nobody had walked into his cell to attempt communication; not even a taunt was to be heard from his captor's.
    It went without saying the privacy was enjoyable. After a rampage-induced hangover silence was a virtue for the Orc. It gave him ample time to think. His problem was not the fact he was in jail, it was that he was stranded in a foreign land. Not that others concern for him was an issue. His supplier would most likely notice his absense sooner than his brother. But what was a problem was that Shork had nowhere to go. Assuming his contacts were inside the city, his odd's of tracking them down now were slim.

    A small disturbance broke his train of thought. Unsuccesfully trying to appear & leave without being seen, a nervous jailguard tried to push some bread through thebars of his cell. Upon noticing Shorks glare they panicked & dropped the bread, backing away without bothering to pick it up. Picking up the small loaf with mild interest, Shork took a small sniff before dropping the food with disinterest. He had never liked consuming such artificial products, even the somewhat-primitive Nord brand. What he needed was some raw meat. At this Shork's ears pricked up, & with carnivorous intent he struck a nearby sewer rat, easilly crushing its skull with his fist.

    Picking up the vermin's broken form by the tail, he sniffed it with curiosity. The smell of its fur was putrid at best, but it was his best bet at a meal.
    Taking a large bite from its uncooked torso, Shork laid back on his hay pile savouring the taste of raw bile. He had only been here around for half an hour, it would be interesting to see how his situation would develop. Besides, contary to whatever was going to happen to him, Shork made sure to enjoy his meal.
     

    willowwisp

    Well-Known Member
    Elizabeth listened intently as Averaine described what had happened. She'd never seen, or even heard of a were-bear before. She almost regretted not seeing it. Almost. Averaine certainly didn't make it sound like he'd been a very pleasant person. And he wanted Salthar to talk with the thing? Elizabeth wasn't so sure that was a great idea. Sure, he might have been hunting the northern warlords, but that didn't mean they should bring him along. 'We might as well hire any old thug to come with us, then.'

    She'd been about to say so, when she noticed Cilla running down the street towards them. She was crying, which immediately set off alarm bells in the back of Elizabeths mind. Without a second thought, she rushed to the young girl and wrapped her in a comforting hug. "Cilla! What happened? Are you alright?" She didn't look like she was physically hurt, but clearly, she was distraught about something.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    Alice felt Torin's rough hand on her slender shoulder and heard his attempt at comfort. Torin was a man of few words and really not a people person so it was surprising that he was trying to comfort her at all. He must think highly of her. Of course he did, they were comrades in arms and fellow rangers. Well, Alice was a ranger of sorts. A ranger mixed with some swordplay and quite a bit of supporting magic. Torin couldn't summon much more than a platitude but Alice appreciated his effort all the same. This was out of his comfort zone and it was sweet that he was trying. Alice got back up and wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her gloved hand. It didn't stop her tears but it did tidy her face up some.

    "Will she?" Alice asked in disbelief. "My stare alone can get grown men a foot taller than me and twice my weight to back down. I've rattled boys under my command with a heavy scolding. I even made a young recruit cry once. And I just used that same level of intimidation on my little sister. A ten year old child that I love and very nearly died for. All Cilla wanted to do was try and help and I practically yelled her into the ground for it! I'm the worst big sister in Tamriel!"

    Alice then returned to tearful silence, not looking at anyone and lowering her head while balling her hands up into tight fists.

    Cilla ran up to Elizabeth in tears and hid in the healer's chest as she pulled Cilla into a comforting hug. She felt safer but she was hurt and scared. She wanted her mom and dad. When Elizabeth asked her what was wrong she was so upset she couldn't speak in complete sentences.

    "A...Alice...Alice said...W-when I tried to help, Alice said....she said....she said I deserved to be executed...!"

    She barely got the last word out before dissolving into a fit of sobs and sniffles.
     

    willowwisp

    Well-Known Member
    Cillas' words were a bit broken up, but she still heard and understood. Elizabeth wasn't exactly unused to crying children. After all, she'd healed all manner of broken bones, cuts and scrapes in the past. Though Alices' words sounded harsh, after all, not many typically threatened their sisters with execution, but Elizabeth was certain there was a reasonable explanation behind it all.
    "Cilla, sweetheart. I'm sure your sister didn't mean to say something like that. Stress can make people say things they don't mean" she said in her most reassuring voice, stroking the girls hair gently.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Aliah watched and listened to the exchange between the two sisters without comment. She doubted either of them would have appreciated her butting in. She waited, her hands resting comfortably on the hilts of her weapons. It wasn't long before Cilla broke down and dashed off. Alice sank to her knees, and Torin moved in. Obviously, he was trying to make her feel better, but not doing a great job. She didn't blame the ranger. He was a man of few words, but he was still compassionate. She didn't miss the plaintive look he shot her.

    She approached, stopping beside Alice, and kneeling down. "Alice."She slipped an arm around the girls shoulders, and guided her to her feet. "I know you're upset, but you need to remain composed." She glanced up and scowled at a pair of guardsmen who hadn't yet returned to their posts. When they noticed her looking in their direction, both turned and walked as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

    "Your sister will forgive you. She's just upset right now, but she's learnt her lesson. Would you rather she take another risk, and end up dying?" Her tone was a little more sympathetic now. "I've lived a great deal longer than you. And I know sometimes you need to be safe to protect those you love. Now come. We shouldn't keep the others waiting"
     
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    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    Salthar listened patiently to Averaine, and then Shadari. Then he lifted a hand to stop them from continuing their respective arguments. "While you raise a good point, Shadari, Averaine is right. And- I fear we may need more than our current company to fight the brotherhood. Remember, the Imperials believed there was a real threat a year ago. Now they've been ordered to disregard the whitescars activities. And if the creature proves to be untrustworthy, we'll simply eliminate him" Salthar finished. He left then, for the dungeons, taking the quickest route, he reached Dragonsreach in good time.

    The guards at the doors opened them without question, and he strolled inside. The dungeon was dark and dank, with oil lamps suspended from the ceiling by stout iron chains. He strolled at a measured pace down the hallway, the guttering flames causing the shadows to dance and flicker. Salthar knew how to break a prisoner. He'd broken dozens during his time with the Thalmor. And dozens more during the Imperial-Stormcloak war.

    However, he didn't need this were-bear broken. He needed him cooperating. Which irked him greatly, when he thought about it. For the most part, Salthar didn't waste time speaking with Lycanthropes. He just killed them. He could sense the life force just ahead of him, on the right. He stepped up to the cage, keeping a good distance from the cell doors. He could see the creature, in its natural form, a muscled orc, crouching against the far wall.
    "A friend of mine tells me that you're hunting a certain northern brotherhood. Frankly, I'm surprised you made it all the way to Whiterun on your own. We're headed for Windhelm to put an end to a threat that you couldn't possibly understand. Your options are simple. Either assist us, or, rot away in this prison until I can find the time to send someone to free you from your miserable existence" he said, his voice matter of fact and cold. Then he awaited the were-bears response.
     

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