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    Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
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    "Hulda, let him alone, for he is a companion." "Come for a long way from Jorrvaskr comrad! Haha!" I walk over to the bard Mikael, "Can I make a request? Can you take a break?" My heart is heavy from the loss of my brother in arms, Karjo.
    There was no further interest in promotion among the companions as this Nord refused to become a werewolf. Under the LORD and loyal to the Jarl. I mostly chop wood, sleep, drink ale, and use tactics against giants, bandits, and Silver Hands.
     

    Eboni

    Nord, Sell-Sword/Adventurer
    The door of the inn was disturbed by another patron to be, a young Nordic woman, clad in strange dark armor and armed with ebony weaponry at her hips. She peeked into the building, seeing a few new faces than she would normally see at the establishment. With quiet steps, she walked inside, her ears being filled with chattering, the sound of the popping fire, and the soft strum of lute music. Glancing around the room with her emerald hued eyes, she sighed in content, perhaps she found a good place to relax for a time. She found a seat away from everyone else so she would not bother them and took off her knapsack, sliding it under the chair she sat upon. She tucked a lock of gold bangs behind her pale ear and sat back in the wooden chair, hearing it creak due to the new form of pressure she placed on it.

    When the Redguard waitress came over, the Nord ordered herself a pint of ale and tipped the woman kindly to brighten her dull mood. Once her drink arrived, she uncorked it and took a sip from the glass bottle, satisfied by the long needed taste after a lengthy walk from Soluitude, to Dawnstar, then finally to Whiterun. Letting the liquid ease her mind and distract her from her sore feet, she allowed her head fall back and her eyes shut gently, only focusing on her sense of taste and hearing.
     

    Julianos

    Septicus Julii, Moth Priest
    The doors of The Bannered Mare swung open, and two broad-shouldered Empire Soldiers marched in, as if it was one of their military exercises. A couple weary and cautious Nords lifted their gaze to the Soldiers, and silently put their hands on their sword. Behind the hefty grunts, shuffled a character they had never seen before. An old Imperial scholar, draped in white linen, and a strange carved blade sheathed at his side with a neat beard like winters snow. He made his way onto a secluded table with barely any room for another, and sat down. He was followed by some sort of luggage carrier, who, at the flick of the scholar's hand, brought out a massive book and eventually after much struggling placed it in front of him. Without hesitation he began reading and writing notes as he went along. With guards blocking the way and him facing the other direction, no one could see anymore and returned to their previous conversations, still getting the occasional glance.
     

    Eboni

    Nord, Sell-Sword/Adventurer
    The Nord woman opened her eyes when the sound of new footsteps reached her. She tilted her head back up to look around the tavern and examined the new faces. "Hm... Soldiers?" She mumbled, taking another sip from her cold drink. She saw the tense air they created and shrugged as it faded away. It didn't matter to her what side they were on, she was not a woman of the war. She never picked a side to favor, as it only caused issues; but of course not deciding caused an uproar as well. She was just a warrior trying to make a living, a sell-sword, a hunter, whatever brought her coin. Her gaze left the new men and she went back to relaxing, though she is a Nord, their presence did not bother her.
     

    Julianos

    Septicus Julii, Moth Priest
    Septicus Julii, Moth-Priest of the White Gold Tower, never averted his gaze from his papers. He sat silently reading through the book that perched on his table, but after a while, he seemed content and slumped on the back of the moss-green chair, to then get the attention of the waitress. She brought back a mead of finest quality, Black-Briar reserve, the liquid swished around in in the aged blue bottle and just the mere sight of the famous brew stirred the sights of the regular patrons. He at first seemed disgusted, but eventually gave in and one of the soldiers popped open the cup to catch a quick scent of the expensive brew, and placed in front of the Imperial Scholar.

    He casually brought out a large parchment dipped his quill in ink after taking a first, refreshing, sip, and started writing. Unbeknowingly, he began mumbling as he wrote the strange letter, just enough volume for nearby sitters at the bar to listen into to. "Brother Hjar, how is the library coming?...I've had no luck in finding either Brother Evicus or any of the missing scrolls in this sector...No one has seen anything of Dexion, carriage riders, Inns, the College, he's simply, gone. As if he never existed... the last trace I've found is a letter I received detailing how he's in the service of the Dawnguard, and have the Prophecy of Auriel and his fabled bow, but once the threat was over he would travel back to Cyrodil with the Scrolls. It's been a month before Vampire threat was eradicated..."
     

    Eboni

    Nord, Sell-Sword/Adventurer
    Holding her drink by the neck of the bottle and moving her wrist in a small circle, the woman made her booze swirl around in the glass. Having just left the service of a noble, she had freedom to do as she pleased, but she didn't know what. No one in the tavern interested her, and all had their own things to do. She could just leave the inn and go for a jog, workout, but her feet and legs were tired enough. She licked her lips anxiously to moisten them and took a drink of her brew. "Perhaps I could rent a room and make some elixirs?..." She said to herself, bored of the quiet room.
     

    Kim243

    New Member
    In a thick, fine coat, a burly orc climbed down from the second floor, a broad grin on her face. She cupped her calloused hands around her mouth and called, "Oi! Listen up!" As heads started to turn towards her and some of the murmurs quieted, she called, in a quieter tone, "Right, then. If anyone is looking for work, and don't mind a bit of rough trekking and possibly some bloodshed, come speak with me." She took a seat towards the back of the room, at a mostly empty table. She opened her arms wide, her smile wider, and leaned back, waiting for potential people to accompany her.
     
    Unusually quiet for his somewhat hulking size, a hooded figure strolled through the small burg’s square market gathering odd looks from the locals. Ignoring them, he had only one destination, and he calmly strode toward the swinging sign, and the local honey Meade he had grown quite fond of.

    As he opened the door to the Mare, the more than noticeable lack of noise caused a look of disappointment to flash across his face. He quietly walked up to the bar, letting down the hood of his cloak, which looked quite exhausted from too many seasons of covering his bulk. He smiled happily at the bar maid, who couldn’t help but gasp at the odd contrast of one milk white orb and one arctic blue eye smiling back at her. “ Two bottles of Honningbrew and a bowl of stew, please.”

    Fa’sien tossed a few septums on the counter and meandered to a table opposite the door and sat in the chair, which groaned under the weight, to enjoy his meal. As he sat, he contemplated the last few weeks, “those damned Foresworn,” the hulking Khajiit inadvertently thought out loud.
     
    Last edited:

    AndrewTEM

    Member
    Qa'bil has had his fair share of adventures, but he can't even begin to fathom why trouble finds him so often.

    He takes a short stroll along the roads of Whiterun, and after many a thought, meanders into The Bannered Mare, covering his face with his helm just before he enters.

    The surprising quiet of the Tavern is almost deafening as he quickly takes a bottle of mead from the bartop, replacing the bottle with 15 Septims, and silently takes a seat, slowly looking around to see who all might walk in... Or who all might start a drunken brawl...
     

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