Open Reforging an Empire 2

Barnan slid his Iron legion longsword into it's sheathe as he flipped out his two iron daggers. he twirled the small handles until they were in his palms, the he flipped the daggers and caught them by the tip. The first one found it's way into the orc's shoulder, and the second dug into his lower right rib cage, puncturing his liver. As the orc turned in pain and rage, bearing a face only a mother could love, Barnan went into action. His hands immediately went for the handle of the burly being's axe, struggling to free it from his hands. When the orc failed to comply, Barnan gripped the axe firmly with both hands and rammed it into his nose, breaking it with a sickening snap.

As the orc recoiled in sudden pain, the axe was Barnan's. However, the orc recovered faster than expected and was soon throwing a left hook at Barnan's head. Barnan rolled into a dodge, slicing into the orc's right knee, severing his knee cap along with multiple muscles. Stopping in a kneel behind the orc, He brought the axe into the back of his knee, lodging it in the bone. As Barnan struggled to pull it free, the orc flipped around, grabbed the back of Barnan's bald head, and rammed his left knee into it, knocking him on his back.

"You're gonna pay for that one, you filthy elf scum!" The orc rumbled, ripping the axe from the back of his knee and approaching Barnan. Then Barnan spotted something that made him smirk.

"Am i?" He retorted, before the orc went wide-eyed at the loud thud behind him. He immediately dropped his axe and fell to his knees, turning just in time to see Soldin's Warhammer smash into his skull. Barnan leaned his head back and sighed into the sky, glad the orc was dead, and looked back down to see Soldin offering a hand. He took it, and stood back to his feet.

"Come on, let's go see how many of these bastards we can kill, eh?"

"Agreed." Barnan replied, taking a deep breath before recovering both his daggers and following Soldin up a few rotten, wooden steps to the wall. Almost as soon as he was on the wall, he saw an unaware archer, scared stiff amidst the chaos. When he turned in Barnan's direction, Barnan rammed a legion boot into the bandit's crotch, then smashed his face against Barnan's knee. In the time span of two seconds of seeing the commander appear to his right, he pushed the bandit towards her and he fell on her sword Then he flipped to his left, seeing the blood-filled gore-riddled tangle between multiple squad mates and filthy, angry-looking (and might i add unsanitary) bandits. Some bandits managed to slip past and through the tangle, in which Barnan handled them with his sword.

A bandit ran from the tangle, Barnan's left, sword raised to strike. Barnan countered his stroke and sliced upwards across his chest and neck. Another ran towards his right, stumbling from the tangle and unaware of Barnan's presence. Barnan fell to one knee, as the bandit slid onto his sword as smoothly as butter. The Ranger shot a hand up, gripping the man's neck as he pulled himself up, ripping the sword from the man's stomach and pancreas. As that man fell, he turned at the sound of a hiss and saw Shadari cornered by the ledge with three bandits approaching. His instincts and gut urged him to jump in, but his brain ordered him to stay. In ten mere seconds she dropped all of the men and even had time to flash the Ranger a razor -filled glare. His brain laughed with logic and i told you so as his instincts and gut shut up. He was about to turn to check on the squad when a buff bandit boomed out of nowhere, and took Barnan off the wall into the courtyard.

He crashed into a wooden cart, smashing it to pieces and chunks. Barnan groaned in pain, flipping the bandit off his chest. Then he got atop the burly nord and raised his right and left fists, smashing them repeatedly in his skull. It seemed like forever before be felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. Barnan turned, in the heat of anger, and punched Soldin square in the jaw. Barnan took a few moments to realize who it was before apologizing quietly. "Sor...Sorry, Soldin." He half-whispered, as he saw Soldin holding his jaw sorely. "It's...ah!...It's alright. You ok?" He asked. "Yea, i'm fine. You're the one with the broken jaw." He retorted. As Soldin was making a remark, they both saw a group of around six bandits approaching. The Ranger and wolf took a second to look at each other, before unsheathing their weapons and charging forward.

Running and screaming, young Arillious went on a rampage. An underhand upward slash of his sword left a deep gash right in the center of the face of his first opponent. While screaming with agony, the Bandit attempted to cut the Imperial's head off with a mindless swing of his battleaxe, but he was way too late. The soldier ducked and tumbled his way behind the wounded Bandit, and finished him off fast by slicing his throat and throwing him into the group of 3 or 4 others, knocking them back some.

In a crouched position with shield raised, covering his body from neck to thigh, and sword pointed towards his enemies, Arillious was hoping the taunt would attract the Bandits, and as he waited for the Bandits to ready their weapons and strike, he looked to the upper level of the fort to see the Bosmer - Padfoot, smoking a pipe. He was watching the skirmish take place, and by the look on his face it didn't look like he was going to be helping.

Back in basic training, the most difficult drill was 3-on-1 situations. An Imperial recruit was supposed to stand in the middle and try to defend himself as long as possible while 3 others attacked him. The way they spread out always left at least behind you, your most vulnerable side, which forced you to think fast and be extra observant. Use of peripherals was key.

This wasn't the case for Arillious, all the Bandits attacked him at his front, and as he blocked all three of their first attempts, the Bandits stayed clumped together right in front of the soldier. Fundamentals took over, and when the next Bandit attacked, this time alone, Arillious immediately countered with a Shield bash that left the Bandit dazed for that quick second the Imperial needed to execute a powerful lunge to the lower abdomen. Quickly forcing the sword out of the Bandit's body, he let him fall down by himself, and left him to bleed. Like a Sabre-Cat, Arillious took 2 powerful steps before launching himself in the air, with sword-arm bent, he brought it down hard - like a smith with a hammer on the anvil, he watched as his weapon went hilt-deep, entering the area between the neck and left shoulder-blade of the bandit. By the time the third bandit realized that it was his turn next, there was already a shield coming right for his head. He dropped, losing consciousness before he hit the ground. Arillious, standing over him, walked back to the second bandit, who was on his knees, his eyes wide open and jaw dropped in pain. From behind him, Arillious retrieved his sword from the man's body and kicked him furiously to the ground, so that he die face-first in the dirt.

Roaring like a Dragon he finished the third unconscious bandit off and then fell silent. He looked up at Padfoot, still smoking quietly on the second level. He looked at him with question, before quickly averting his attention to the door of the fort. Looking back, he could see others finishing off some bandits. Arillious waited for further instruction.

Padfoot was peacefully smoking his pipe and watching the fluffy clouds overhead when he heard a painful scream. He moved his eyes slowly back to reality. His arms were crossed and he was leaning up and over the makeshift wooden wall the bandits must have made to keep people from falling from the second level. He made his way up here when the Gate's were opened. His job of scouting and infiltration was done, and it was time to watch others go to work.

The young Imperial boy was the cause of the blood-curdling scream, severing a Bandit's face would do that. His face was red. Padfoot didn't know of this Arillious, but it definitely looked like he was angry. He mercilessly executed this wounded Bandit and then went on for some more.

He looked to the other side of the courtyard and watched as Marek was ferociously beating Bandit after Bandit. At this point it seemed as though these people were far below the skill level of this Bounty Hunter's normal opponents, that was what Padfoot concluded for being the reason why Marek abandoned his very weapons and was fighting these bandits with his fists. He chuckled at such a sight before moving letting his eyes wander more.

The squad is very good, which is why Padfoot begins to wonder why there's only one other person in this squad other than himself that's getting paid for their expertise. "Well, obviously each person has their very own history with Ulfric." He told his subconscious. "It'll just be interesting when Ulfric's last day comes... who will be the person to end his life, and whether or not that very task will cause argument, or death."

Padfoot doesn't really have anything to lose in this world, other than his money - and that's something he is never worried about. He begins to think what it would be like to be driven by emotion, but he is quickly interrupted by the young Imperial boy, who is staring at him as if he heard every thought in the Bosmer's head. "You have serious emotional issues." He said in his conscience, in a taunting voice, but Arillious looked away. "Well that's a relief."

Marek wasted no time after he had pushed open the gates, allowing the rest of the squad to rush in and engage the bandits in the courtyard. Even as the young Captain, the ranger, vampire, and the two werewolves dealt with the reinforcements that had come out of the keep to help their comrades, he ran towards the heavy doors that led to the interior of the fort. The rest of the squad was better suited to open battle. They could easily handle the bandits outside. His skills were more tailored to close combat and while he was a fairly strong man and could hold his own in a large battle, he wasn't the best swordsman and he didn't fancy getting cornered by someone more skilled with a blade than him.

As he ran, he looked up towards Padfoots position on the wall and waved an arm over his head to catch the mers attention before pointing at the door. He was confident the elf would understand that he meant to enter the fort and begin clearing it out. If not, then he would surly catch on when Marek pushed through the door. Taking his eyes off of Padfoot, Marek lightly jumped up onto the doorstep in front of the heavy wooden doors just as a middle aged bandit wielding a short sword exited them.

"Hurry! Get out there, we're under attack!" Marek shouted urgently at the man. Despite Mareks legion attire, the bandit paused mid step as he tried to figure out what Marek was saying and he glanced over in the direction of the others at the sound of someone howling in anger. Before the man could gather his wits and attack him, Marek pulled his dagger from its sheath and in one fluid motion, brought the nine inch blade up and drove it hilt deep under the bandits chin. The man made eye contact with Marek for a split second and gurgled something as Marek pulled the weapon free and let him drop to the cobblestone. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure Padfoot was on his way, Marek shoved open the door and entered the interior of the fort.

Marek found himself in a dimly lit room about twenty feet across with a couple archways directly opposite him, presumably leading to the rest of the fortress. Strewn about the room were a couple tables, littered with various dishes and there were also random pieces of armor, weapons, and a few rough fur cloaks. But the miscellaneous items in the room weren't what had his attention. Across from him, standing in the closest archway were two bandits, one Nord and the other a dark elf, and both had drawn swords. The Nord nudged his friend and nodded towards Marek before slowly moving forward. The elf followed suit, moving around to the right so that Marek would have to deal with them attacking from separate directions.

As the two men closed in, Marek placed his hand on the hilt of his sword but hesitated for a moment before moving his hand to his dagger and drawing it instead. A long sword would be less useful to him in a situation like this than the smaller blade. Settling into a fighting stance with the dagger held in a loose grip in his right hand, he slowly began sliding towards his opponents, hopping to bait one into attacking prematurely. With a yell, the Nord raised his sword and swung towards Mareks neck, hoping to behead him with a single blow. However, the man was far too slow for that so Marek had little trouble ducking below the singing blade. As the weapon whistled over his head, he struck out and jabbed the dagger into the Nords thigh, hobbling him and eliciting a yelp of pain. Before the man fell forward on his wounded leg, Marek shuffled around behind him, grabbing his sword arm as he did so and using it to maneuver him between he elf and himself. The Nord immediately responded by ramming his elbow back into Mareks ribs, bruising them. Grunting, Marek wrapped his free arm around the mans throat and pulled up, lifting him off the ground slightly before driving the dagger into his back three times in quick succession. The Nord gasped and arched his back before sagging in Mareks grip. All this took place within four seconds.

The elf seemed stunned by the suddenness of his partners death. He hesitated in his attack and seemed to be considering the wisdom of continuing. He stared at his friends body for a second before looking back at Marek. Then he reached over, grabbed a plate off of a nearby table and hurtled it at Marek, causing him to lean sideways to dodge it. Even as he moved, the elf jumped forward and stabbed at him with his sword. Marek had to twist even more, so that he was leaning backwards and to one side to evade the blade. He brought his dagger up and parried the elfs sword, shoving it away from his body as he sidestepped away from him. Now that he had some room to move, Marek again shuffled to the side and slashed at the mers sword arm, seeking to disarm him. However, the elf was too quick. With a flick of his wrist he sent Mareks blade glancing to the side before slashing at Mareks own chest.

The mer was too close to him for Marek to be able to get out of the way in time, so instead he jumped forward, inside the Mers reach so that his outstretched arm hit him instead of his sword. Before the elf could draw back again, Marek shoved him with his shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance. Then he drew back his left arm and punched up under the Elfs armpit. As his fist connected with the cluster of nerve endings located there, he was rewarded with a sharp gasp from the elf as his pain shot up his arm and through his back and neck. Taking advantage of the elfs momentary paralysis, Marek stabbed downward with his dagger into his chest, and then, as the elf hunched over, he drew it back and rammed the entire nine inch blade up under his chin. The force of the impact took the elf off his feet entirely and Marek pushed him up and then backwards into the stone floor. Standing, Marek withdrew his blade with a wet rasp and cleaned it on the elfs soiled jerkin just as the door behind him opened again.

Rogvir was walking to morthal with evidence that the man that killed the miner a couple days ago was one of there guards. He was ready to have justice served to whoever did this. He was still thinking on the evidence, there was a letter on the miners body that said "the day has came where i have gotten a assassin to kill Ulfric. the only problem is that i have to pay the man up front. can you get one of my old Ulfric hating friends to send money, Simus would be a good man to do it if he has not changed over the years. I bet he has lots of money with the clan grey mane if i remember correctly. sincerly, your master ps watch out for Ulfrics men they almost got me the other day but i think they left to some city called morthal." Rogvir did not know what he ment about Ulfric but if he finds this man named simus he might find more evidence, so he has wanted posters all over skyrim for him. "Time to take a night" thought Rogvir, so he set up camp for the night.

hey guys i hope you like me on this rp i talked to simus and if you want to see my character info just ask me for it

Alice and Dabiene were back to back fighting off the last of the bandits. She could tell from the battle around her that the area was mostly secure but she had gotten surrounded while trying to coordinate the assault. An orc with two large iron maces was swinging and trashing at her and Dabiene was too busy to help. For almost fifteen seconds the Orc had assaulted her with a berserk like flailing. The only thing that had stopped Alice from being crushed under his weight was a last minute ward spell that the beast and ran smack into, breaking the momentum of his charge. It left her too rattled to press her advantage and the orc was simply able to get up and start assaulting her, trying to land a blow that would crush her skull or smash her ribs. He would only need one.

Alice ducked at the last second, feeling a mace whiz over her head. She thrusted her sword forward in an attempt to stab his side. The soft "splurch" of blood told her she made contact and she saw her sword tip create a shallow wound in the orcs side. Both hands were on her blade and she stopped, thinking she had won but that was the wrong thing to do. The orc stopped flailing, looked down at the imperial sword barely in his side and laughed.

"You shouldn't play with swords little girl." He said, spraying rank saliva and a bit of blood on her chest. "Here, let me show you how it's done."

"What are you...?" Alice started to ask, dumbfounded that he could just laugh off a wound like that. She had no time to finish. With amazing speed, the orc dropped one of his maces, pulled Alice's sword out of his side and picked it up by the blade end. Alice thought he was completely mad and by the time the handle of her own sword was coming at her it was too late to dodge. The handle and hilt made full contact with her left temple and her vision turned black as she fell to the ground. She lost consciousness for a moment and was woken up by blood and spit in her face. She looked up to see the orc standing over her, ready to stab her with her own weapon. Her sight was reduced to stars and double vision and her head was bleeding badly. She was a sitting duck.

(OOC: Uh oh. Who will come to Alice's rescue before the Big Bad Orc ends her once and for all!?)

As I was about to enter the city a guard stoped me. "Halt, what brings you here"he said."I followed a murder of a miner in dawnstar to here and i plan to capture who did it,"I said calmly. I expected him to say move along but what happened next was not that ordinary. He pulled out the biggest axe i have ever seen. as he tried to hit me i dodged, that stumbled him long enough for me to pull out my war axe which looked like a tooth pick compared to his axe .As he went for the swing i stood acting like i was stunned, he lifted his axe and as it was about to fall on my head i swung my axe as fast as possible and choped his his in half then hit the back of my axe in his leg makeing him fall."what is wrong with you, Why did you try to kill me," i said with my axe ready to go into his head." I was not trying to kill you," he said with laugh then took of his helmet. I gasped when i saw his face. It was the miner. Then all of the sudden there was a bag over my face.

After the Ranger and Soldin dispatched the six unruly bandits that made the mistake of charging at them, the tall white-haired Nord rubbed his jaw, wincing all the while. The young man certainly packed a punch.

'Nothing wrong with that lad's arm, that's for sure.'

Scanning his surroundings he made sure everything was in tip top shape for everyone. That meaning that no one was getting their arse handed to them on a silver platter, along with their head. It seemed everyone was holding their own. The vampire was definitely dancing around her foes and offered no remorse.

'Good, the rogue brats don't need any.' He blinked at this inner though before shaking his head, 'I've been spending too much time with that Breton. Speaking off which...'

He scanned around, looking for signs of the woman and her charge. At least, he thought of the two that way. The girl was so small but after watching her when the fighting started his opinion of her changed. After all, she wasn't a commander for nothing. After looking at all the carnage he finally spotted them, fighting back to back. Dabiene was busy frying and zapping her opponents, and when somehow they got to close, she drew her blade. After a few flourishes, howls of pain, her opponents would fall easily. 'Definitely no stranger to war..' The woman practically oozed an aura of anger, experience, and a certain grace when she killed. She wasn't an assassin but she made her kills swift, without even blinking. No remorse.

Soldin however always made the deaths of his opponents swift. Without pain. He silently always prayed they lived a good life in some way and would have a good afterlife. His parents mostly loved Stendarr, the God of Mercy. It was a such that he would bestow mercy upon his foes. He treated his opponents how he wanted to be treated, with respect and a clean death.

'That isn't going to happen though if Alice doesn't move!' His mind screamed as he saw what was about to happen to the girl.

"DABIENE! BEHIND YOU!" he bellowed.

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She blasted another bandit away from her with silent glee. She loved free roasts once in a while. Alice could definitely hold her own that was for sure, but she kept a close eye on her. However three bandits decided to do a deadly dance with her and she would oblige their hand in said dance of death.

Swiftly drawing her sword with her right hand she parried a blow while off to her left a bandit tried to flank her. She surprised what appeared to be an Imperial by sending him flying with a ball of fire. The man screamed in pain while she twisted her right wrist, twisting her blade and sending the sword to the ground as she cut the other man's arm*. Taking his disadvantage as an opportunity she spun the sword and her arm back around, thrusting her blade to the hilt in his chest. Gasping he gurgled in surprised before she pushed her foot against his chest. Her assailant fell to the ground dead, the woman looking bored. She looked at the other man that was on fire and saw he was but a crisp. Glancing over at the last man her eyes asked that one question, "Do you really want too?"

And of course the idiot's answer was yes. He screamed and charged, Dabiene sighing in irritation, "Must you Nords always be so straight forward? And thick headed no less?" she muttered in distain. Sheathing her sword quickly she blasted the Nord off his feet with a lightning spell. And no sooner, did he fall dead did she hear Soldin scream her name.

Spinning around she saw Alice on the ground with a burly Orc with a large gash on his side, about to end the poor girls life.

The Breton saw red.

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"Go on ahead, I'll catch up!" He yelled to his partner who nodded before dashing forward toward Alice and Dabiene.

What stopped him was Dabiene's fury. The woman made an animal like roar before charging at the Orc, catching him by surpise. They both went down with a dull thud, the Breton roaring in fury with the Orc mocking her. Soldin rushed forward and quickly pulled Alice up, holding her in place. The Nord looked in horror at what he was witnessing.

Needless to say, don't mess with a would be mother...

In mere seconds Dabiene's hands turned to claws and although her back was turned to both of the bystander's, the man was glad. He heard the Orc scream in agony, sounds of flesh being ripped from bones. Being much taller than Alice he saw what looked to be the victim of Dab's wrath... He held back the urge to vomit as he saw his own insides pouring out. What a way to die... Dabiene was still screaming in rage, bones breaking, flesh torn, the Orc's body completely defiled and unrecognizable. Alice couldn't really see much but he could see from his vantage point the top half of the Orc, only wishing that he couldn't. He didn't know what to do. He learned from Farkas to never tick off a female werewolf. Aela always scared the twins and he now knew why.

If he stepped in she might turn on him or even go feral completely. On the other hand if he didn't do anything she could do anything...

His thoughts were interrupted by hearing ragged breathing. Dabiene was straddled on top of the orc, her shoulders slack and head bowed. No doubt from fear and anger at what happened... what she had done.

"Alice... You better go on ahead, and don't look back. I'll deal with it." Soldin looked sadly down at her but his tone was dead set. He made be under her command but if she knew better she had better run off inside the fort and not look back. On the other hand it might help his friend seeing her alive. But no matter what happened he was sure of one thing: Dabiene snapped and he was terrified.

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(OOC: It's been a while to really do much in terms of quality. I might be rusty. If not then good! But when it comes to action and gore... Meh no. Almost completely new territory for me. I didn't want to put much details, incase of any squeamish people around here. By the way, happy to be back. *Also I think everyone knows this sword move. Cheap move, but clever and defensive, disarming your opponent by winding your sword down your opponents and simple wave/thrust sideways and he's completely defenseless. Cheap, but clever.)

(OOC: Hey Dabs, did Dabs shift to a werewolf in the last post or did she just do some hand-shifted-claw thing?)

Alice weakly nodded when Soldin suggested she go on while Dabs vented her motherly rage but she was in no shape to fight. Her legs were shaking so much she could barely stand and on the left side of her head her hair was slick with her own blood. She hobbled along a few feet towards the open door of the fort but soon fell down on her hands and knees. Stars were dancing across her eyes and her vision was double. She knew she was in bad shape and needed a healer but she couldn't focus enough to yell for help. She tried to get up again and take a deep breath but her head was so disoriented she felt nauseous. She hobbled as fast as she could towards a bucket and a small forge and threw up, filling it with sick. After that she simply fell over onto her back and raised her right arm into the air. She knew she had to stay conscious so she focused all her energy on looking at the bracer on her right wrist, trying to memorize how it looked like and using it to block the noonday sun.

C'mon Alice, you can do this. There's friendies all around you and at least one of them is a healer. It's just a bump on the head, you're not gonna die. Just stay awake a little longer.

(She partially morphed. Part of her curse. She just barely contained the beast that time. >.> Soldin can tell which is why he's a little freaked out... I know it isn't cannon exactly but hey, it isn't completely lore breaking. Farkas could shift into his form and back in less than a minute in Dustman's Cairn so I don't see an problem. Plus ingame when werewolves morph it isn't really epic enough... Meh.)

Her vision blackened after the red flash and the next thing she saw was blood on her hands, all over her armor, and some on her face. She looked at her hands, afraid to move them from in front of her face. The woman didn't want to see the carnage after already knowing what happened. Something similar happened when she was in the legion, she tore a poor boy to shreds. That's when she took a "medical leave of absence". Good riddance to a monster.

She heard voices but didn't know where they came from. Footsteps came closer with caution and she took a shuddering breath. "Why?"

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"Dabs? You in there?" Soldin gently placed a hand on her right shoulder carefully.

"Why?" He barely heard it but it was there.

"I... I don't know. Come on... We'll talk about it when we get back to Whiterun, maybe you can talk to Aela. Maybe it'll help calm yourself..."

"No one can help." Silence. After a long stretch she spoke up again. "But you're right. We'll talk about it when we get back."

Soldin heard what sounded like a choked sob and felt her shoulder shake. He saw her move her hands and heard a gasp of horror. Stendarr only knew how this affected her. He couldn't even fathom what she must be feeling.

The tall man took a step back as the woman stood up slowly, the carnage shown completely as she stepped away from it. The Nord looked around and saw Alice barely staying conscious and rushed over to her.

"Damn.. Dabiene!" He looked at her from across the way at her but she didn't move a muscle. Or even acknowledged him at all in fact. The woman just kept staring at the mutilated corpse. Shaking his head he reached into his private satchel under his armor that he kept around his neck at all costs. He pulled out a healing potion and some bandages and proceeded kneel down and loom over her to help block out the sun.

"I really hope your... Uh... boyfriend doesn't get the wrong idea..." The Nord muttered quietly. Arillious was a whirlwind full of anger out there and he didn't want to be the recipient of such a thing. Soldin lifted her head after uncorking the potion, "Here, this should help." He poured it slowly so she wouldn't choked on it. After the bottle was empty he set it down and grabbed the gauze bandages. The potion he had gave to her was pretty strong so whatever major injuries she had would most likely be dulled out. He only used that potion for emergencies if something went amok. Like Dabiene going nuts and Alice nearly getting butchered.

As he was about to check her over for injuries a void startled him. "Go, I'll keep watch over her until her father comes." Looking up he saw Dabiene towering over both of them with a grim expression on her face.

"Are you... Are you sure?"

"I can't fight while in shock." she simply stated. Her face was extremely hard to read which unnerved him. Although only knowing her for a week he could read her like a book. The man had nothing to say to her except some parting advice, "Alright, just... Be careful." The Breton nodded as he gave her the gauze and ran toward the fort to join the others inside.

Finding a chair close by she walked over, grabbed it, and set it down beside her charge and sat down. Casting frost spells on her hands then setting her hands alight, she washed her face and hands. Taking off her helm then setting it down beside her she leaned down toward Alice then casted a strong healing spell, hopefully not overdoing it.

"I wonder how your father will react," was all she said to her. Outside she was calm but inside... She wanted to run.

(OOC: For some reason this feels off. I have no idea why, maybe I'm the one that's off. If you want it redone Simus I'm fine with that. )

I was being taken somewhere. I rode on the back of a horse for hours, it feels like i'm being took to Cyrodiil or High Rock. I new someone on a other horse kept a bow at my head the whole time, I can hear the bow waiting for the shot to be made. From what i heard there was four horses and five other men.'I need to think, why would whoever these people are want the captain of the guard in dawnstar? What did that note on the miners body mean? Is the miner even dead?'I thought. As I was thinking we came to a stop. They took me off the horse and took the sack off my face. The first thing I saw was a fist curling towards my face.

The fist hit my head pretty hard, i almost fell to the ground." Hey captain, oh no you have no guards to save you", and I get hit again on the back with a branch. The pain makes get on my knees, I look up and see two big nords with clubs, to the left i see a nord girl in robes not paying any attention, to my right i see another captive, and in the back of the group the miner looking on with a smile."Let me go now, or at least let me fight." I said with a grin.


"Alright," said the miner, " how about you fight your way back up after we are done."


The beating lasted for a hour, I was conscious the whole time. Every hit felt like a giants club, the girl shocked me constantly, and they screeches of the other prisoner were not helping. Eventually they got tired and left leaving a lit torch on the other prisoners foot and a lingering poison in my mouth. I lay there for hours almost dead trying to breath, I looked over and saw the other prisoner was not breathing.'I need someone to come down the road,' I thought before i passed out.

What hero will come to the rescue of the captain?

Alice looked up at Dabiene, just barely keeping her eyes open. She was channeling a strong healing spell into her head and it felt wonderful. Like a warm bath on a cold, rainy day. She reached her right hand out towards Dabiene, the hand she was previously fixated on. Someone needed to take command of the squad and Alice wanted to communicate that but she could barely think. She was also scared and wanted some comfort. As she held her hand out to Dabiene she noticed a light slash across her forearm. Adrenaline had kept it beneath her notice and it wasn't anything serious now. However, there was a white sheen that made it much more dangerous. Bits of dried frostbite venom. Someone had slashed Alice with a poisoned dagger.

Alice began to panic and her severely injured head made it impossible to cope. Her mind was too slow for that. She couldn't remember how to speak Nordic or Common, her primary languages ever since coming to Skyrim, so she started talking in her native Cyrodillic. She begged Dabiene to look at her arm and to have someone take command of the squad and complete the mission. She had no idea if Dabiene spoke Cyrodillic or not so she tried to make her body language as clear as possible. Considering the fog her thoughts had become, this was easier said than done.

As she began to heal the girl she noticed that Alice was still conscious. 'Definitely a fighter she is...' The woman thought. Of course she was Dabiene berated herself, her father wouldn't let her charge head long into a bandit camp and help in a war. Shaking herself from her thoughts she saw a hand reaching toward her. Her ears picked up a faint murmur and she leaned in closer to her charge.

Gathering strength Alice then spoke in what appeared to be Cyrodillic. Dabiene knew the basics of the language being the bookworm that she was. She knew her native language of the Bretons, some Cyrodillic, even Khajiit and Argonian languages. Although only bits and pieces. She couldn't speak them due to the fact the words were hard to pronounce.
As for the local Nords she had been there for twenty years or around there so it had become a second language. The language Alice was speaking however was third in understanding. Alice looked at her arm in panic before speaking again. No...

Stopping the healing process she firmly but gently grabbed the poisoned arm and swore in her native tongue. It was already infected and oozing. Growling lowly but quietly she reached into a small pouched and grabbed some cure specifically for frostbite venom. Uncorking it with her teeth then spitting the cork out to the side she uttered quietly, "This might sting..." and poured it onto the wound. She found out that pouring potions directly onto the wound especially if it was near a vein that it would be more effective. She of course was reprimanded for it a few times by less knowledgeable soldiers...

The other thing that now bothered her was Alice directly told her that someone needed to be in command now. Dabiene couldn't command, or rather didn't want to. Soldin or maybe the Mercenary was in better suit. Just because she was a war veteran didn't mean she was qualified for Divines sakes! The others already went inside having taken the fight with them. Grabbing the gauze that Soldin gave her she wrapped the wound firmly. With skilled hands she slipped a finger underneath in alignment to where the end of the gauze would be. Reaching into the pouch with her other hand she got out a knife and cut the gauze off watching the rest of it hit the ground before putting the knife back. A single little flame appeared on her free index finger and gently lowered it and glued the fabric together, careful not to let the flame touch Alice's skin which her other finger was careful of making sure that didn't happen.

After that was done she freed both hands of the job and sat up. Looking around to make sure all the bandits were dead by listening to hear any heartbeats she began to think on the situation. She could run inside and ask Soldin to take the reigns with this Dawnguard experience or ask him to give the reins to someone else, whichever he preferred. She couldn't go up and tell Simus what happened. The point of this whole thing was to pretend the people on the outside weren't there and to deal with it themselves in an orderly military fashion.

Cursing under her breath she looked down and saw Alice was getting a second wind, although rather slowly. She was stubborn, but so was she. The Breton wasn't going to babysit her on a battlefield and be mocked for it later. It wouldn't look good for the younger either. Making her choice she slowly got up along with lifting her downed... What did she call her? Friend? She was obviously her Commander so she went with that...

She half carried Alice to the door of the fort that she saw Soldin disappear into and nudged it open with her shoulder. Even if Alice wanted to take a nap she'd be damned if that happened. Dabiene was certain both of them suffered worse than this before. Alice would be fine, she'd make it.

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"Soldin!" The Nord spun around at the voice. Down the hall he saw Dabiene with Alice slung over her shoulder worse for wear. Trotting over he stopped in front of him with a confused look on his face.

"She doesn't look good... Are you sure you want her in here? What if her father--"

"I'll deal with him and I'll look after his daughter. In the meantime since she's out for the count someone has to be in charge now."

Soldin looked from the injured commander, to his friend, then back again. His mouth opened and closed several times before huffing. "Just one thing, what if that mercenary and assassin finds out their squad leader got felled? What then?"

"I'm well aware of that fact. Tell the others that she and I are securing things down here. Meanwhile you take the reins or have someone else take them if you don't feel comfortable. Once she's up to it we'll join you. Besides I doubt they wouldn't see the logic behind us both staying behind. I've had plenty of experiences of bandits 'playing dead' before."

Soldin laughed darkly before replying. "Dabiene, I don't know if you've noticed but between Arillious blasting through everyone, the assassin butchering of all the gullible idiots in her path, and the vampire making artwork with all the blood and bodies of her victims, I doubt any are alive now. And if they are, the Mercenary and others took care of them."

The Breton stared at him before growling, "Go. I'll join you shortly. Meanwhile tell them what I told you."

Shrugging the Nord left while throwing over his shoulder, "Alright, but I hope things go well after this... you know what I'm on about."

(OOC: As usual if anyone wants me to change anything let me know. I'm flexible. )

Alice woke up sitting against a wall. She was in a room made of stone. A small one. There was no door, and it led to a larger room made of stone. There were tables and chairs in it, and a burning fireplace, and a rounding staircase that went up and disappeared just above the fireplace. She knew this place. This was a fort. Yes...Fort Greymoor. She was leading a squad here to occupy the fort. They were on a training mission. They were trying to impress Ulfric and her father. She was fighting a large Orc and then she blacked out. She had suffered a blow to the head. How did she get in here?

Then she looked up and saw Dabiene. She was sitting on a stool and looking over her. How long had she been out? It felt like days.

No. No, it was only a couple of minutes. Soldin had bandaged her head and soaked the bandages in a healing potion. Dabiene had healed her and cleaned her dagger wound. Alice was warm but not hot. She had a small fever but nothing serious. She needed to stand up though. She needed to take command. That was the adult thing to do.

"Alice?" Dabiene asked, squatting over her charge and putting her hand to her forehead, moving her beautiful ebony hair out of the way. "Hon? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah." Alice said weakly. "Where is everybody? What's our situation?"

"I'm not quite sure hon. Soldin's gone up ahead to let the others know about you. I think everyone's accounted for. These bandits just weren't prepared for soldiers who didn't run at the sight of a kitten."

"Heh, heh. Yeah, I guess not. We didn't lose anybody? Are you sure?"

"All is well hon. You just rest and we'll get you back to..."

"No." Alice weakly protested. "No. I can't rest. Not just yet. We've got a battle to win. Help me up."

"Alice, that's not a good idea. You're hurt. You need to..."

"Dabs, this is my command. I'm being tested as much as all of you. I need to do this and a little fever and a bump on the head aren't going to stop me. Help me up. That's an order."

Dabiene sighed, but had to agree with the younger. "As you wish commander."

Alice's vision blurred as she was pulled up on her feet but she stabilized soon after. She was wobbly and she needed to lean on Dabiene for support but she could stand. They both walked to the second level where Soldin and a few of the others were. The corpse filled room was all bandits and the door in front of them was barricaded and barred. This was where the bandit lord was. After a quick scan of the room, Alice steadied herself with a hand on Dabiene's shoulder but otherwise stood tall.

"Report!" She called to the present squad members.

Barnan pulled Gladius from the back of a bandit, leaking black blood onto the floor and save some on Gladius. Wiping his sword on the man's leather armor, Barnan glanced about the room and saw that he was indeed not the last to kill. The others were scattered about the room, slaughtering and dismembering the attackers professionally. Barnan wasn't an expert at killing nor executions, he just did what he had to do to survive. And lately, that's been enough. Maybe he needed to step up his tactics to strike more fear into his enemy's eyes. No, maybe not. He was just here to take down Ulfric and get leads on his long lost guild master. For all he cared, the others could kill Ulfirc in groups with machetes and axes. He had nothing against the man, he just wanted info out of him.After all, he didn't enjoy killing people. Then again....these are bandits.

Sheathing Gladius and glancing about the room, he saw the rest of the bandits had been killed and executed accordingly. The Bandit Lord had barricaded himself in the room ahead of the small group, along with a few personal guards. Even Barnan's fastest dagger couldn't touch him as he ducked into the room. Speaking of which.... He walked over to the thick wood door and pulled his throwing dagger from the wedged wood. No sooner than he had sheathed it, he heard the light footsteps of a new person. No, two. One had to be heavier and older than the other, the other being a small, light person, possibly a kid. His analysis was confirmed by the sudden, barking voice of Alice, their commander.

"Report!" She called to the present squad members. Turning to the commander and following the others into formation, he decided to speak out to the rather weak-looking young woman.

"Aside from what you see here, the Bandit lord has locked himself within the room behind us and took a few others with him. Archers and heavily armored men, four maybe six of each it looked like. That's all i got. The others may be able to tell you more, ma'am." As much as he hated sucking up to the kid once again, he would do almost anything to get back to the Guild Master. Almost anything.

Barnan.

Soldin slowly trudged up the path that led to the room with the others in. What he didn't expect was a huge scene of carnage.

'Yup... I was right... Dabs should've known better... This place looks a right wreck..' the bulky man thought.

"Geez... you guys took no prisoners, did ya?" Although he said it aloud, he said it mostly to himself. He looked around some more. The Nord shivered at the scene. He killed before obviously. He was a Companion after all. But sometimes even the most stone like warrior had something that they couldn't stomach. Soldin just didn't see the point of prolonging pain. He hoped most of them had a quick, yet relatively painless death. He also saw that a few others were looking at the door across the way. Obviously the leader locked himself inside. Coward.

Just as he was about to take up the lines of command he heard two pairs of footsteps. 'Huh. She recovered quicker than I thought.'

Turning around he noticed Alice- 'Commander', he corrected himself -at the doorway. She was slightly leaning for support onto his friend. Poor thing looked quite a sight.

'At least she's putting effort into it. That's good..' He smiled softly at the two of them before standing at full attention.

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"Alice, that's not a good idea. You're hurt. You need to..."

"Dabs, this is my command. I'm being tested as much as all of you. I need to do this and a little fever and a bump on the head aren't going to stop me. Help me up. That's an order."

Dabiene sat there, shocked. But quickly put on a mask of indifference and helped her up. "As you wish commander."
She was right, they had a job to do. And sitting around wasn't going to get it done. Dabiene helped her walk up to the second level all the while supporting her. Alice was wobbly and a few times missed her balance but overall doing alright considering what she went through.

"Report!"

The ranger that Dabiene had come to know as Barnan looked up and stood at full attention. "Aside form what you see here, the Bandit lord has locked himself within the room behind us and took a few others with him. Archers and heavily armored men, four maybe six of each it looked like. That's all I got. The others may be able to tell you more, ma'am."

Dabiene looked at Soldin who then informed them, "I just got here, but from what I can tell, Barnan is right. Bastards ran away like rats. Unless anyone knows where the key is, knows how to lock pick the door, or has a makeshift battering ram..." The Nord trailed off and looked at the others. Yup, they were pretty much stuck.

The Breton werewolf huffed, "I'm sure we're more than capable of taking down a wooden door, even if it's reinforced. These are lawless and most likely unintelligent bandits. I'm sure we are all smart enough to take down a simple door..." she smirked at Soldin as he ducked his head. Always leave it to him to state the obvious.

As everyone else gave their 'report', Dabiene couldn't help but be thankful that there had seemingly been no casualties on their side. That wouldn't have sat well with her. She saw her friend smirk in humor at her as he was thinking the same thing. She didn't like wasting precious magic on stubborn idiots, close to death or not.

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(OOC: I'm BAAAACK! Sorry it's been a rather long while. Didn't mean to break off this long lol. GED crap and all. I'm planning on taking it this month after taking a practice test to make sure I don't have to do this again if I mess up. Anyway, hope this is good enough... I feel a little rusty...)

Marek surveyed the room and the bodies of the bandits that were strewn about haphazardly. Himself, Barnan, along with the others had made quick work of them, admittedly with rather extreme prejudice. But then, thats the the point. To show Ulfric just how deadly we really are. Besides, seeing such a scene of carnage had a huge negative effect on the morale of most men, not a bad thing when you were out-numbered like their squad was likely to be most of the time. Some of the bandits, including their leader had barricaded themselves into a room on the far side of the one the squad stood in when the fighting reached them. Their bid for survival would only prolonging the fight by a few minutes. Smirking grimly to himself, Marek made sure none of the thugs on the floor were playing at being dead before turning to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

Alice, with a newly dressed bandage on her head, shuffled along beside Dabiene. The older woman had a worried expression faintly etched onto her face as Alice barked for them all to report. Marek watched the ranger and a couple others put their word in about the bandit leader and his remaining guards.

At the breton womans words he uttered a quick snort, "No kidding," He said pointing at the door the bandits were hiding behind. In their rush to escape the squad the fools had chosen poorly. The door in question happened to be an out-swing, meaning that, while the bandits had locked it no doubt, the hinges were on the outside, the squads side. Walking up to the door, Marek drew his dagger and slipped it up under the first of the three hinge pins, "No need to pick the lock or break the door down. Just pop the hinges out and the door will fall out of the frame with little effort." The first pin clattered to the floor by his boots and he glanced over his shoulder at the others.

(OOC: Sorry its so short. Just wanted to get something up.)

"No need to pick the lock or break down the door. Just pop the hinges out and the door will fall out of frame with little effort." The first pin flattered to the floor by his boots andhe glanced over his shoulder at the others. Barnan clapped in his mind at the cunning logic of the man. There was a reason why he was a bounty hunter. But there was one major theory he overlooked: what happened after they popped the door open. As far as Barnan was aware, his mind already played out several situational outcomes and he knew he wasn't the only one to be paranoid either. After all, paranoia comes with the job. Letting his stature ease slightly, turned and nodded in Marek's direction. One of the others approached the door to help Marek, but Barnan extended his arm up and outward, swiftly blocking their path.

"Right you are, Marek. But what you forgot to examine and dig into is the fact of what happens after we open that door. As far as I'm concerned, we have four options. One, the least likely. We open that door and catch the bandits and their lord by surprise shortly before wiping them out with extreme 'professionalism.' We break down the door, or rather unhinge it, and stumble upon the bandits waiting for us; bows drawn, swords drawn, etcetera. We sustain injuries before erasing them from history. And I know no one here who wants to get shot. Three, the one I think is the most likely. We unhinge that door, and the bandits have set a trap that kills us all, or at least wounds most of us. Or four. We unhinge the door and find that they have fled."

"What we do next is up to you and the commander here. But be warned. Do not undermind these men. Most are, admittedly, fools and cowards. But none of them are afraid of battle. Some will fight to the last breath and judging by how many the Bandit Lord took in there, that's exactly what he plans on doing. I have encountered enough of these creatures to know they are no longer men. But that doesn't matter. They bleed and die like the rest of us. And in the end, that's all that matters. Do what you will, but do it with caution. Bandit Lords have a tendency of being either complete fools or complete cowards. Be ready for both." He said, lowering his arm and regaining his stature. Whatever they chose, he had already prepared for.

Alice smiled at Marek's initiative in removing the pin hinges from the door. The solution was actually quite creative. Something her own non-linear thinking wouldn't have come up with. Barnan was clearly a survivor and a man of the wilds. His caution was appropriate and his understanding of the situation excellent, but he was a bit long winded for a combat situation wasn't he?

huh. Do I ever talk that much? Alice wondered.

Soldin didn't seem to provide anything useful at the moment, but that would change as soon as the door was open. He was a huge, ferocious fighter and his heavy armor would be critical in breaking through whatever defenses the bandits had set up. Dabiene was still holding onto Alice, acting as her support. Alice's legs were still weak and she was very tired. This worried her, as she didn't think she had the strength to march back to Whiterun, or even to her father and Ulfric for that matter. That wasn't their concern right now though. Right now they needed a plan of attack.

"Everyone listen up." Alice said, shaking her head and struggling to focus. "Barnan's right about those bandits. Whatever they're doing is probably going to get them killed but it...uh...it...it might get us killed...maybe...too." Her vision blurred again. Soldin's healing potion had taken effect and made her sleepy and she wasn't free of her concussion yet. She needed quiet, comfortable rest to completely heal. "Marek. As soon as you get done with those doors I want you to take cover behind the wall. Do not rush in. If we're lucky, the bandits will come out to us and any door trap they've made will be disabled without us being hit. Soldin, I want you on the other side of the door. Both of you are to move in once we've assessed the threat. Barnan, Dabiene, you're with me. We need to overturn these tables and create a barricade. We'll form a firing line if the bandits charge out and have good eyes on the room if they don't. If any of you have a clear shot you take it. Our latest reports describe the bandit lord as a large orc who prefers steel plate armor and a large greatsword. Soldin, engage him in assault if you can but don't be stupid about it. We should all take him out together. I don't know where the rest of the squad is, but there's no time to wait. Get moving."

"Marek. As soon as you get done with those doors I want you to take cover behind the wall. Do not rush in. If we're lucky, the bandits will come out to us and any door trap they've made will be disabled without us being hit. Soldin, I want you on the other side of the door. Both of you are to move in once we've assessed the threat. Barnan, Dabiene, you're with me. We need to overturn these tables and create a barricade. We'll form a firing line if the bandits charge out and have good eyes on the room if they don't. If any of you have a clear shot you take it. Our latest reports describe the bandit lord as a large orc who prefers steel plate armor and a large greatsword. Soldin, engage him in assault if you can but don't be stupid about it. We should all take him out together. I don't know where the rest of the squad is, but there's no time to wait. Get moving."

Barnan dispersed with the others and walked over to his small group of three. Together, he and Dabiene flipped two tables and rolled them side by side so there were no gaps in their barricade. He looked back to see Alice struggling to flip one of the tables on it's side and moved to help her. Walking over, Barnan stood by her and used his right hand to fully push the table on it's side. Alice said nothing, but simply glanced at him and nodded. He nodded back and helped her roll the table to the others, nearly completing their barricade. Dabiene had one more table and they were done. Barnan crouched and watched closely as the others pryed the hinges from the door one by one. He took this time to reflect over what Ulfric might have to tell him about his mysterious Guild Master. To be honest, Barnan didn't care whether the man talked or not. He was getting that info out of him one way or another.

The others all seemed to have some sort of hit for the 'High king.' With the assassin, bounty hunter, and vampire, it was obvious to him they were either getting payed or tipped to kill Ulfric. Or maybe they were investing. Barnan did some research before coming into Skyrim; pulled a few old parchments. Ulfric dug his nails into alot of companies and big-time businesses in his uprise and descendence to the throne. Certain companies and businesses that wouldn't exactly 'suffer losses' if the king were to die. Investing in his companies and then killing him would make the prices drop dramatically, Ulfric being their main, or at least most popular, supplier. A person could make a lot of money off of one man's death, but it wasn't money Barnan was here for. It was the Guild Master. And he would get him, and end this nightmare. Besides, the Guild Master was worth a couple twenty-thousand gold in Hammerfell.

His senses were brought back to him and he unsheathed his Legion Bow as the wooden doors creaked and slammed to the ground. They were in. Barnan notched an arrow and leveled his drawn bow just above the sideways table, a straight shot into the entrance. Whatever came out of there wasn't getting to that barricade without a few arrows in their armor and a few daggers to the chest.