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    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    The civil war has begun. Rebelling Stormcloaks and Imperial Legionnaires tear the land apart. However, commanders on both sides seek advantages over their opponents. Of numerous myths of powerful artifacts spoken of throughout the ages, none match those lost to the sands of the Alik'r desert. Legend speaks of a Redguard king, who, through the power of one such artifact, nearly suceeded in uniting allHammerfell under one banner. However, the story also tells that the artifact was made by an ancient evil. It corrupted the king and all his court. The king was assassinated, and all his people executed. They were buried in great catacombs under the sands of the Alik'r desert, with the artifact. The name of the king, his followers, and the artifact were ordered wiped from every history book.

    However, as with most things that are supposed to be forgotten, some whispers of its existence remained. Eventually, word of this artifact reached both the Stormcloaks and the Imperials. Both sides have realized how valuable an artifact that can reunite the warring province. Especially if the Empire ever wishes to be strong enough to renew the war with the Aldmeri dominion.

    Unfortunately, both the Empire and the Stormcloaks lack the resources to send soldiers to Hammerfell. Nor would the mistrustful Redguards allow foreign troops into their lands. So, a call for mercenaries has gone out. To seek out the artifact, and return it to their employers. Of course, this will not be easy. Numerous obstacles posed both by the land and the natives. And perhaps...something more sinister.
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    City of Elinhir, Hammerfell.

    Duros Kaast made his way through the streets of the city of Elinhir at a leisurely pace. He'd arrived in the northern Hammerfell city several days ago, on orders from the Bloodlet throne. Whispers of some artifact buried under the desert sands had drawn a lot of attention. Agents of the coven had noticed that both the Imperials and Stormcloaks were sending mercenaries to search for and recover it. Duros' planned to join up with them, use them to find said artifact, and claim it for the coven. He'd already secured a local guide, and assured his loyalty with equal parts threat and gold.

    The guide had sent a letter, alerting him that those under the employ of the Imperials and Stormcloaks were approaching the city. He was now on his way to meet the guide, and hopefully a few of the mercenaries at the local tavern.Coming across as initially helpful and making 'friends' would benefit him.

    A creeping sense of being watched had the Redguard vampire slow down,cautiously glancing around. Duros knew with the robes he wore, reminiscent of the hated Thalmor automatically made him unpopular in Hammerfell. Though the robes were more armoured and fit to close combat, in addition to lacking the gold of the Thalmor colouring in favour of the red of and ebony colours of the Bloodlet throne. Either way, he wasn't in the mood for explaining that he wasn't planning on bringing in an army of Thalmor troops.

    Besides, he was thirsty, and he doubted those following him would be missed. He turned down an alley, and not long after, he heard the scuff of boots on the sandy stone. He turned, hands at his sides, and saw a trio of young Redguard males facing him. None of them looked overly friendly, either. "Gentlemen. What can I do for you?" All of them drew curved daggers.

    "We know who you are." The central man announced. "What you are."

    Duros sighed. "Very well. Let's get this over with. I'm meeting some people soon." A flicker of uncertainty touched the faces of all three men. Obviously, none of the trio were experienced warriors. Their rush was uncoordinated, and Duros didn't bother to draw either of his twin scimitars. He stepped forwards, inside the first mans guard, and delivered a sharp strike to his solar plexus. The mans' breath left him in a 'whoosh', and he doubled over, gasping.

    The Redguard vampire reversed as the mans friends closed in, one of them slashing at his chest. Duros retaliated by lashing out, grabbing his wrist, and yanking him forwards in time to catch the third mans dagger in the back. As he fell, Duros seized his dagger, and plunged it into the neck of the man he'd struck first. With his free hand, he got a grip on the last mans throat. "As much as I enjoyed this distraction, I really must be going." He dropped the man and lunged, sinking his fangs into his throat. Once he'd drunk his fill, he slit the mans throat, making the deaths look like they'd been caused by some robbery gone wrong.

    He arrived at the the tavern a short while later, and spotted the guide he'd hired. His first name, Duros knew, was, Rammael. The Redguard saw him approaching and paled. Duros took the seat across from the man, and smiled. "Hello, Rammael. I see none of those mercenaries I was promised have arrived yet."

    "They'll be here. My people have seen a few of them moving in on the city."

    Duros' eyes narrowed. "You'd better be right. You know what I'll do to you if I find out you're lying." The man paled even further, and took a deep swallow of his drink.

    "They'll be here." He promised, and both of them sat back to watch the tavern.
     

    Seanu Reaves

    The Shogun of Gaming
    This land truly assaults the senses, Chulayne thought with a massive smile. The tall, slender, and pretty young man stood out with his burgundy hair and pale skin. The sounds, smells, and visuals of the Hammerfell city were almost too much to the young Nord. Before entering the city he even had the chance to stretch and get some exercise. Luckily he wasn’t the only fighter in the caravan, because even seven bandits would have been bothersome to deal with by himself. He thought about his notes in his pouch, and how much he would have to refine the words on the pages. This foreign land was exactly what he needed to add some spice to his story. He was told that his contract would be in the cities tavern, and he smirked at how similar cities are within Tameriel. Say what you want about the Imperials, He thought. They knew how to standardize.

    He was heavily armed compared to the common man, and everyone took pains to avoid him even with his friendly smiles and excited glances at the market square. The sword at his hip, in the standard Nordic style, seemed to slice at the air even within its scabbard. The shield on his back and armor on his person revealed his fighting style almost as much as his stride. It was graceful yet direct, the result of a Nord who wasn’t quite as bulky as his fellows. In his hand rested a spear unlike any other, its make was of ebony and carved expertly in the form of a dragon or a serpent. It stood taller than he did by about half a foot, a vicious weapon that likely proved to be his primary tool of death.

    Yet here was a pretty boy, excited as a puppy as he marveled at the city. The first to approach him were the street kids. As he winded through the back alleys and one tried to rob him only to be tripped by the spear, and even though the pickpocket was scared Chulayne gave him a comforting smile. He crouched down to the fallen street urchin’s eye level as best he could. Producing five Septims, offered them to the boy for two stories. One about a tavern where he could find his employer and his favorite story that anyone ever shared with him.

    The boy knew a lot about the tavern, but when it came to the second story he floundered. Chulayne decided to walk him through it, asking about fables or heroes, prodding the boy to show what he knew. The story the boy ended up telling was fascinating. About an accursed king, and off how in his desperation he turned to men he trusted, but shouldn’t have. And the downfall of his kingdom due to his own shortsightedness. Chulayne wasn’t sure if it was passed down or made up on the spot, but he laughed and gave the boy two extra coins for the trouble.

    Chulayne made his way to the tavern, still enjoying all the marvelous new culture he was experiencing. He entered the tavern making note of the strange foods and smells he was taking in. Making his way to the bar keep, he sat down and placed an order. His voice best described as being sweet, yet deep enough you knew if the attitude ever changed it would be a terrifying noise.

    “Could I get some mead? And some of that meat on a stick?” Chulayne pointed at some kebabs other patrons were eating.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    Fae Whitesun lead the way down the street, keeping the hood of her cloak up to conceal her elven features. Even though the war between the Aldmeri dominion and the Empire was over, elves, especially high elves, weren't particularly liked by the natives of Hammerfell. She kept her gaze straight ahead, her hands on the hilts of the long knives at her sides. She didn't think anyone would cause her and her companion any trouble in broad daylight, but it never hurt to be careful.

    She glanced over at her companion, the young Imperial archaeologist Jared Ovin. Then rolled her eyes. The Imperial was staring at everything, an eager glint in his eye as he took in the cities architecture. "Did you know, that Elinhir used to be under the protection of a mages guild? Until the guild master went insane, that is." Fae sighed. Jared had been blurting out random facts about Elinhir and Hammerfell in general ever since they'd left Cyrodiil.

    "Forget Elinhir for a minute. What do you know about this lost relic everyone's going crazy over?" She asked.

    Jared was quiet for a few seconds, then said " not much, actually. Just that a king here used it to try to unite all Hammerfell. But he ended up getting assassinated, and his name was stripped from the history books."

    "Huh. Must have been a pretty unpopular king. What has this got to do with the relic everyone's after?"

    "Well...the story also says that the relic is cursed. That's the whole reason his name was struck from the books I guess."

    Fae stopped and stared at her companion. "Wait. Cursed? What kind of curse?"

    Jared grinned and shrugged. "Don't know. But it wouldn't be worth looking if we knew everything it wouldn't be worth coming out all this way to explore, now would it?"

    Fae rolled her eyes. 'Leave it to him to not mention some curse before we actually get to the place.' "Come on. We should check out the tavern. Maybe we'll learn something besides that this relic is apparently cursed." The pair of them entered the tavern and took their seats.
     

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