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    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    (OOC: Well, if he damages public property, then yea, ya gotta expect Baroth to be sore about that. :p Just a bit of fun being had is all)
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    (OOC: Hey, but let it have been Baroth! :D There'd be no door, first off, and he'd be getting names like "Baroth the tipsy behemoth" and "Sir-Gulps-A-lot", not as clever, but he'd be getting bashed too lol)
     

    Nocte Aeterna

    Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Film
    (OOC: Guys, if you have additional commentary, keep it to the group PM. I don't like having to cycle through non-relevant posts just for the sake of responding to the actual RP.)

    As Khamundar and Baroth got themselves situated with Tsee-Keth in tow, Orvar sought to do the same. "Tallest ale you got in house, Hulda. You know me."

    The aged innkeeper nodded with that familiar yet pleasant ghost of a smile; a trademark of hers. Hulda was nearing retirement, and she desired to return to her family on their small farm in Rorikstead. In recent weeks, she had also been talking about plans to bestow the Bannered Mare's title deed to Ysolda, a novice merchant who frequented the marketplace.

    Orvar had a history with the beautiful redheaded Nord during the refractory period that spanned from the end of his Companions era to his continent-hopping sellsword days. She was far too proud to be bedded by the likes of him despite his honest advances, so he instead resorted to bringing her a mammoth tusk in exchange for gold. Though she still lived in Whiterun, he hadn't seen her since.

    "Get yourselves comfortable," Orvar directed to Khamundar and Baroth, after they had propped the unconscious Argonian up onto the bar stool with some effort. "I've been where he currently is a few times in my life. It lasts 'til morn, sometimes longer."

    Then his drink arrived. Strong in taste and hearty in spirit, he downed a solid quarter of the mighty flagon, his mouth and throat refreshed and revitalized as a direct result. He grinned; at least he would be able to keep the alcohol down where it should be.
     
    Last edited:

    Balomew

    Active Member
    OOC
    As much as I appreciate the "additional commentary," I agree with Nocte. OOC is usually used to let others know that you won't be able to post, noting additional lore, something important left out in a character bio, etc. This can easily be moved over to the Conversation. Just food for thought, not to come off as condescending.
    xU5LET9.png

    11th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    Khamundar withdrew her hand to the coinpurse and closed it, turning to Baroth empty-handed. She was not sure how to respond, so she took his words without comment and watched as he dragged the Argonian - he has a name, she reminded herself, though she could not recall it - out of the entry area. She looked back at Hulda as Orvar took his drink into hand.

    Hulda arched an eyebrow at the Suthay. Khamundar spoke perhaps too soon than was acceptable. "Oh, this one does not.. Does the Mare have water?" Hulda did not respond but moved off to a room that, by the scent of it, was likely a storage unit. Khamundar took this to mean 'yes' and turned around, leaning on the counter, to take a look at the patrons.
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    (OOC: I completely understand. We were just having a bit of fun, nothing to move into a conversation. We'll keep it tight from now on.)

    Baroth combed a hand through his hair, puffing out in sheer exhaustion and leaning on the bar counter. Tsee-Keth was (notso) sound asleep in his rom and Baroth let him be for a while. The guy couldn't coordinate while drunk, but he certainly could take down a few pints. Persistent as Dagon, too. He had solid reason to be, but still, some people had a hard time getting over stuff like that. He'd come around, hopefully. Baroth didn't envy having to kill the lad.

    Orvar related to Keth's current dilemma and suggested it'd last until morning, if not longer. If he had to guess, Baroth would say morning too; he'd be exhausted from, likely, restless nights and bathless ones, not to mention face-planting on the floor. In any case, he'd probably stick the night out, in the event the lad woke with a vengeance and a blade. Though he was sure he's relieved him of most his weapons, shivs included.

    When Hulda, Baroth turned and nodded to her, wiping his face with a moist palm.

    "Long day, Baroth?" She asked, sympathizing with the old drifter. They hadn't seen much of each other, or more than they could remember, so their conversations were usually awkward. Only appropriately so. Not to mention Baroth's history with her wasn't exactly memorable, pleasantly maybe, but that card had been lost in the stack.

    Things were a lot simpler when she first owned the inn.

    "Longer than I'd anticipated, yea. All this talk of dragons resurrecting and Ulfric head-butting the Imperial Legion, peace might've gone on vacation, right alongside rest and relaxation." He stifled a yawn, massaging his temples. Hell, Tamriel used to be a lot simpler, but that just wasn't the case any more. He was conflicted about the war, yea, but gods his brothers just kept digging and digging more holes. Looking for more fights.

    But he'd die right along side them before he abandoned and disowned them.

    He would've ordered a cold beverage himself, if he had any coin on hand, but he didn't (which was fine, he'd been there before) and decided to make conversation with Hulda instead; gradually, but surely, they left the unsavory topic of undead dragons and bloody wars behind.
     

    Balomew

    Active Member
    11th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    Khamundar stifled a quiet yawn behind a clawed, spotted hand. She took a sip of the water that Hulda had set in front of her, and looked at Baroth and Orvar. "This one is heading upstairs," she told them. She had suggested taking first watch over their Argonian friend, but she was too tired, having spent the majority of the day crouching and spying on a bandit camp, a bounty that she was considering taking. "The Argonian man should be guarded," she added, starting to move off to the stairs, bringing her tankard of water with her. Briefly, she wondered what use the scaled ex-bandit might have to them. With a flitting exchange of expressions, she realized that she had thought them instead of her.
     

    Nocte Aeterna

    Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Film
    Orvar continued to nurse his ale in earnest as Khamundar retired. He turned to Baroth, who merely nodded; perhaps the two would keep watch together on Tsee-Keth. Thankfully, the Argonian was still unconscious, but there was no telling exactly when he would wake. Less obvious was whether or not he would even remember his tirade from earlier. Orvar personally hoped for the latter.

    "I'll keep an eye on him," he called to Khamundar as she began to move out of view. "He came in looking for me. I'll sedate him if I have to."
     

    Balomew

    Active Member
    OOC
    There's not much to be said in this post. This is probably Khamundar's last post of the in-RP night. She heads up to her room and sleeps. Only now have I realized that it would be brutal to sleep in the same bed as a Khajiit.. if she had a nightmare, the poor sod would be dodging her claws, no doubt! Just a thought that came to me and made me crack a smile.
    xU5LET9.png

    11th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    "Good to hear," Khamundar replied, moving out of view as she made her way up the stairs and sought out her room.
     

    Nocte Aeterna

    Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Film
    (OOC: This will be my final post with Orvar until next week. My flight leaves in 8 hours. I urge you guys to continue the thread without me until I return on August 10th.)

    The double doors to the inn flew open at once, startling Orvar and the remaining patrons in the single-room den. One clearly intoxicated kinswoman fell out of her chair, her head coming to rest mere inches away from the smoldering hearth fire.

    "Ice wraiths!" a guard shouted breathlessly, running at Orvar and thrusting a weighty coin purse into his grasp before he could even stretch out his hand. "I've never seen so many at such a low altitude before! You must help, Swift-Sole! We cannot do this ourselves! They're just beyond Graywinter Watch!"

    Orvar studied the guard for a moment, slightly amused that he had run such a long distance just to find a fairly accomplished sellsword. The law enforcement of Whiterun had surely gotten desperate by now. He nodded calmly. "Very well. I could use some nighttime exercise."

    Gathering up his bow, quiver, and dual short-axes, he turned to Baroth, who was chatting up Hulda while still keeping a watchful eye on the comatose Argonian as if he were a bird of prey. "I'm going out for a while. A day or so, tops. Don't bother waking Khamundar or trying to help me. I'd like you to just watch Tsee-Keth for now, in the event that the damn lizard wakes up and tries burning everything to the ground. That alright? I'll be fine. Done jobs like this many a time. I'll see if I can find you guys later on."

    With that, Orvar gave a half-grin, half-pseudo-salute gesture, and strode out of the inn into the brisk moonlight.
     

    Balomew

    Active Member
    OOC
    As there's nothing much more to be said here, we're skipping to morning, roughly 9am. If your character usually wakes up before or after then, that's up to you to roleplay. I'm assuming that the characters, with the exception of Orvar, have slept, and that Tsee-Keth was watched over. They must have taken shifts somehow, though that does mean that none of them will have as much sleep as they might need. If you have any thoughts about that, then let's chat about it here. For the time being, I'm having Khamundar in her own room.
    xU5LET9.png

    12th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    The Suthay's whiskers bristled, her cheek muscles pulling taunt into a grimace and then a silent yawn. Her eyes were greeted with morning light that drifted through open slits at the corner of the room like small windows without glass. That visual seemed wrong to Khamundar. She sat up quickly and then put a hand to her head. She had been certain- but no, she looked at the room around her and it was not stone-made. What had she been thinking? She wasn't in Cyrodiil any longer, and she hadn't stayed the night at any inn. What a strange thought to wake up to. She shook her head and pushed the pelt off of her body, clad in loose nightwear.

    Yes, she remembered last night and she knew where she was. Khamundar stood and picked up her apparel from the bedside table.
    From the way she had slept, the bed was not comfortable, but she had fallen asleep, so that had to mean something. The beds were were so high. She did not understand why. Pondering this, she began dressing, glancing at the door to her room as she pulled her rope on. However she felt, she was sure that Tsee-Keth felt worst. She'd have to check in on the Argonian after dressing, as well as Baroth, to see how they were. Perhaps she would bring waters to them.
     

    Wauten Dayhil

    Demon Hunter and Wordplay Extraordinaire
    Tsee-Keth's head rested against his chest, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his loud, bubbly snores. In his sleep, he kicked, causing his head to roll to the side, and he jolted awake before doubling over.

    "Oooohhhh head... pain... oooohhhhhh..." he grabbed his head, feeling that he had to keep it from tearing in two, and tried to look around through the blinding sunlight. Every sound added to the headache that was a product of his hangover. He fumbled around trying to find a bottle to numb the pain, and found his arm's movement was restricted by the rope tied around his wrist. Tugging at the makeshift shackle, he was suddenly alert, looking for anyone who could take advantage of him. Slowly, a figure, standing in the corner of the room, came into focus, and he squinted to keep away the blur.

    "Usually have fun when tied to a bed, but you don't look like much fun to Tsee-Keth," he called over, holding his head with one hand, and searching for a weapon within reach with his other. Finally, he gave up on finding something, and called a Firebolt to his hand, ready to defend himself.
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    Baroth shook himself awake the next morning and wiped the sleep from his eyes, sadly figuratively so. He'd read nearly every book the inn had to offer and still ended up staring blankly at the walls for seven hours. The only upside was he got to see the comers and goers in the tavern, and passed the time with small chat. Interesting people.

    He glared at Keth, out cold, and pitied the lad for the hell-storm of a hangover he was about to face. To be fair, the lad shouldn't have drunk himself into oblivion, but he had good reason to, like most folk. In Baroth's opinion, he needed those heavy pints and a good ass-kicking. Hopefully he'd been in more negotiable mood, but Baroth stood ready (mostly) in case he felt the urge to murder something.

    Tsee-Keth began to stir and wake and Baroth sat up, hand falling to his sword hilt. He stood as the reptile came to and focused on Baroth, obviously having a difficult time seeing clearly.

    "Usually have fun when tied to a bed, but you don't look like much fun to Tsee-Keth," he called to Baroth. A moment later, after a failed search for something (likely a weapon), he raised a crackling firebolt.

    Baroth raised a brow and chuckled at the "fun" part, though keeping a firm grip on the sword.

    "No need." He regarded the blazing fireball. "It was only a precaution. Last I remember, you weren't exactly hospitable. I grant, you were drunk, excessively so. But then again, you broke my door and threw up on my floor. So, the bindings will stay on until I know you're sober and have no desire to throttle anyone. Deal?"
     

    Wauten Dayhil

    Demon Hunter and Wordplay Extraordinaire
    "No need." The Nord said, looking at Tsee-Keth's firebolt with mild interest, "It was only a precaution. Last I remember, you weren't exactly hospitable. I grant, you were drunk, excessively so. But then again, you broke my door and threw up on my floor. So, the bindings will stay on until I know you're sober and have no desire to throttle anyone. Deal?"

    Tsee-Keth let the firebolt die away, and ran his hand down his snout, inhaling sharply. "Tall one, you have drink? Potion? Tsee-Keth's head is less happy than you floors." He eyed the Nord's hand, holding his sword tightly. Heh, he thought, the tall one is wary. "Tsee-Keth promises, no more of the throttles and the pukings." He grinned his best innocent grin, trying to keep the pain of his hangover out of his smile. Just find Swift-Sole, give red smile, and no throttles. It is still good promise, yes? he thought to himself.
     

    Balomew

    Active Member
    12th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    "Fun? This one was looking in the wrong place." There was a hoarse laugh and a knock on the door. Without pause, Khamundar nudged it open and stepped inside, a mask of indifference stretched over her face. She held a mug of water in each hand and a third tucked between her chest and left forearm. She paused and looked at the two. "This one will skin the scaled one alive if it burns this one's fur," she warned Tsee-Keth sternly, approaching and setting the bottles down on a nearby table. She looked at Baroth. "This one has it under control, Khajiit sees," she noticed. She looked keenly at his face for a long moment, then broke her gaze away and lifted a mug and looked at Tsee-Keth once more. "Thirsty?"
     

    Wauten Dayhil

    Demon Hunter and Wordplay Extraordinaire
    "This one will skin the scaled one alive if it burns this one's fur," the Khajiit said to Tsee-Keth before setting her mugs down on the table. As if, he thought, this little kitty would not move fingers if Tsee-Keth burned her. He kept his innocent smile up, though, lest she get an idea of what he was thinking. "Water?" she asked, holding a mug out to him. He took the mug slowly, and sniffed at the contents before taking a tentative gulp.

    Drinking it seemed to help, as Tsee-Keth's headache slowly ebbed away as the liquid went down his parched throat. He grimaced as bile rose up, and swallowed it back down with more water. Draining the mug, he reached and placed it on the table, all the while looking at Swift-Sole's allies.

    "Thanks," he said, giving another grimace at having to praise his potential adversaries. "Tsee-Keth did not think to wake at all, with Swift-Sole close when I, er, napped. Why? And where is Swift-Sole?"
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    Tsee asked for a drink and, as if on cue, Khamundar appeared carrying three mugs of water. She looked hard at Baroth for a moment, to which he squinted in response, before offering the mug to the depleted Argonian. He gave it a cautious whiff before draining it and setting it on the bedside table. He shot a glance at the pair and spoke, against his own will, Baroth was sure.

    "Thanks." he began, his face wrinkling into a slight grimace. He must've hated multiple things on multiple levels at this point. "Tsee-Keth did not think to wake at all, with Swift-Sole close when I, er, napped. Why? And where is Swift-Sole?"

    "East." Baroth said vaguely. "You were drunk, lad. And you both had scores to settle. In any case, murder simply wasn't an option. Orvar's not that kind of person, anyway, if he didn't kill you already." He shrugged.

    "No offense, but you were drunk."
     

    Wauten Dayhil

    Demon Hunter and Wordplay Extraordinaire
    "No offense, but you were drunk." As if he had no reason to be!

    Tsee-Keth looked sharply at Baroth and cried out, "Of course Tsee-Keth was drunk! Lost home! Lost friend!" he gasped and grabbed at his still aching head, and steadied himself with short breaths. "Orvar's trash was Tsee-Keth's treasure," he finally said, "and Tsee-Keth wanted revenge for the stealings of treasure. Do you blame Tsee-Keth for this, tall one? Or you, little cat?" He asked, looking to the Khajiit as he said these last words. "Swift-Sole left to escape Tsee-Keth, you know. Could not face what he did, is what happen. Could not face Tsee-Keth's pain." He pulled at his arm again and growled, grasping the rope and flaring a simple fire spell through his grip, burning the rope away.

    He stood up, unsteadily, and brushed past Khamundar with a sullen look on his down-turned face. Smacking his tail against the door as he walked out of the room, the force smashed it against the wall and back into the door jam, slamming it closed. The Argonian shuffled down the stairs, and fell heavily into a chair by the fire, calling for ale and bread.
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    "Of course Tsee-Keth was drunk! Lost home! Lost friend!" he gasped and grasped his head, likely still aching, taking short forced breaths. "Orvar's trash was Tsee-Keth's treasure," he finally said, "and Tsee-Keth wanted revenge for the stealings of treasure." "Do you blame Tsee-Keth for this, tall one? Or you, little cat?" He asked, looking to Khamundar as he wrapped up.

    "Swift-Sole left to escape Tsee-Keth, you know. Could not face what he did, is what happen. Could not face Tsee-Keth's pain."
    He pulled at his arm again and growled, grasping the rope and flaring a simple fire spell through his grip, burning the rope away.

    He fumbled off to a vacant chair by the fire, causing a commotion on the way out, and called for ale and bread. Baroth released his sword and massaged his temples, turning to Khamundar. He reached past her to the mug of water sitting on the dresser. He sipped and shook his head, as if to dismiss the heated words.

    Of course the lad had a reason to be drunk. Hell, Baroth would've drunk himself into oblivion and back, if the cause fit. But it's what he did while he was hell-bent on vengeance, if only mortal.

    All in all, the lad needed to learn to let it go and accept that what goes around definitely comes around.

    "Give him a bit to himself." Baroth slurped from the mug quietly. "Bad as that chief was, he was a friend to some people. I don't think he got through all the mourning, anyway. Best to give him time to stare into the fire."

    He glanced across the way at the Argonian, whom seemed to be doing just that.

    "It probably just what he needs at this point."
     

    Balomew

    Active Member
    11th of Sun's Height 4E 201
    "This on does not relish the thought of letting the lizard roam the streets. Khajiit have a saying: 'once tasted, never wasted.'" In the absence of Tsee-Keth, her face betrayed disgust. She picked up her own mug, sat on the side of the bed, and took a few sips. "Like revenge, it has tasted it and now it might crave it. Surely it is still a bandit?" She paused to gather her thoughts. "This one would speak to it. Tell it that this is it's home now, that these people are its new clan." She rose to her feet and asked Baroth what he was planning on doing today.

    It wasn't his condition she was concerned about, it was the revenge that he had been bent on last night. She had no experience with true revenge, but she figured it was like moon-sugar: the effects lingered longer if the taster clung onto them. Cruel though that might seem, she was accommodated to doing what was best if necessary.
     

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