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Private {18+} Ascension

Discussion in 'Active Stories' started by Madrar, Jul 24, 2018.

  1. Screeching Spasmodically

    Screeching Spasmodically Spasmodic Screecher

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    As Adalia waited for the masked man to say something, rather than stare with his eerie purple eyes which seemed to be...glowing? The eyes certainly made her uncomfortable, but she was confident she could blast him with lightning if he tried anything. She glanced at Lilliana, who'd finished her stew and was staring wide eyed up at the man. This, Adalia realized, was all new to the girl. The redguard reached into her coinpurse, and dropped a handful into the girls hand. "Go and get yourself a second helping, dear." Lilliana nodded gratefully, stood and headed for the bar, coins clenched tightly in her hand. A couple of minutes later, a scruffy looking man in robes, with blonde hair that had been cut short.

    "You don't seem like mercenary types. What are you doing in a place like this?" He seemed pleasant enough, but Adalia knew enough about the under empire to not trust strangers who came from nowhere. She snuck a glance at the masked man who still stood nearby, suspicion creeping into the back of her mind. Lilliana might not be the only one wanted by the empire. After all, Adalia was an unregistered mage in the middle of the under empire. Bounty hunters could operate here without any restrictions, and she'd heard that there was a large bounty for her kind throughout the lands of the empire. With that in mind, she answered, "you shouldn't assume. I'm here because of the summons for mercenaries. The girl there," she nodded towards Lilliana, who was on her way back with a steaming bowl, "is my ward. It's not safe for her in the city proper. What about you? You don't look like a-" The flash of crimson robes caught her attention. A dark haired man with pale bronze skin, stood in the doorway with a khajiit and dunmer on either side of him. "Why is there an imperial mage here?" She hissed, turning her face away, hoping she hadn't been spotted.
     
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  2. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Thalien scowled; was he truly that easy to read? Still, there was no obvious signs something was going to happen. There was always that risk, of course. Having so many mercenaries, assassins, and general scum in an enclosed area was a sure recipe for blades to be drawn due to some perceived insult. The old bloodstains on the floor, tables, and occasionally the walls, attested to that. However he doubted that the number of killers had anything to do with his unease- in fact he was fairly confident Joren, Vintor, and himself were more than a match for most of the people in the place. He'd received no vision since the one that had lead them to Bruma in the first place.

    Something else had him on edge...something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "It is nothing." He assured the armoured warrior, before turning to face the door once more. An imperial legionnaire.- no, a battlemage, stepped inside, accompanied by an unlikely pair; a khajiit woman, and a dumner male of the same size, both seemingly lightly armoured. That wasn't what held his attention though. It was the lack of dark brand on the mans' forehead that he found so intriguing, though he had no intention of abandoning his comfortable corner to confront the man.
     
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  3. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

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    The battle mage introduced himself as Orien Catus, and asked after their own names. "I am known as Elrasur the white. If I am any good at my chosen profession, you haven't heard of me. I am not...the typical assassin." He revealed, wary of giving away to much to the imperial, even if was different than most of his kind. The table they'd chosen to sit at offered a good view of both the door and those already inside. Most seemed to fit the expectations of what a mercenary looked like; well armored, well armed, and with a poor attitude. However, there were three that stood out, fairly close together. A redguard woman, a nord man in a plain robe, and a young imperial who was heading towards the redguard with a bowl of steaming something.

    Their was tension in the air, but that was to be expected. Such places, especially in the under empire, were almost always ready to explode into violence. The bar owners didn't typically care about who ended up dying in their establishment, so long as the killer paid for the clean up, and repairs, should they be necessary. "Excuse me a moment." He stood and made his way to the bar, waiting until the barkeep, a harassed looking imperial made his way over. The mans' eyes flicked down to the mers' tattooed hands. "What'll it be, pal?" Elrasur dropped a small coin purse between them. "Water. And a little information about this mercenary contract."

    "You're the second to ask for water." The man grumbled, filling a tankard from a keg against the wall. "Information wise, I don't know much. That khajiit over there is the one who brought word of it." He nodded towards a group of men, one of whom was the khajiit in question. "If you've any questions, he's the one to ask." The dunmer assassin thanked the man for his help before returning to the khajiit woman and the imperial he'd arrived with. "It seems the empire has hired a mercenary to bring in more of his kind." He reported, looking to Orien, "do you know what this could be about?"
     
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  4. Signus

    Signus Member

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    "An assassin." Orien repeated, not quite as surprised as he should have been. This was the under empire, and it only made sense that the elfs' kind would take shelter here. Though his comment about not being a 'typical' assassin, had him confused. He hadn't had much, any experience with assassins in the past, but as he understood it, there was really only the one kind. Before he could press the dunmer, he excused himself and headed for the bar. Alone with the khajiit woman, he became uncomfortably aware of the stares directed at him. It was no surprise that he would draw more than little hatred among these people. But then, what choice did he have in the matter? Die painfully at the hands of confessors, or die quickly to an assassins blade? He wasn't especially keen on dying, but if offered the choice, he take the second death.The dunmer was back now with information about a mercenary working on behalf of the empire. The elf turned to look at him "do you know what this could be about?" He asked. Orien spread his hands helplessly, "It could be any number of things. I'm a simple battlemage in service of the empire. I wasn't exactly privy to decisions like the hiring of mercenaries."
     
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  5. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

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    Athara watched the dunmer handle the large orc fairly easily, doing little more than resting her hands near the hilts of her weapons, and more importantly, near her throwing knives. A flick of the wrist, and the orc would have joined the countless corpses in the under empire. But it didn't come to that. Deciding that facing three opponents where there'd only been one a moment ago, he grumbled and stomped off, deeper into the winding alleys. The imperial, a battle mage without the markings all of his kind seemed to possess, agreed to come with them, and they began to make their way to the most prominent of the taverns in the area, the Maidens' Arms. The three of them made an odd group, even for the under empire, but no one tried to stop them, and they reached the inn, if it could be called that, without incident.

    As soon as they stepped inside, the khajiit wrinkled her nose. She was no stranger to places like this, but she was always taken aback by the unique stench of each place. More than a few stared at their companion, but no blades were drawn on them. Yet. The three found a table with a good view of both the door and the varied scum already inside. The dunmer assassin she'd met at Cimantus' estate introduced himself as Elrasur the White. Not a name she was familiar with, just like the imperials, Orien Catus. "Not that it matters, but I am Athara." She said, leaning back in her seat, getting comfortable. Elrasur excused himself, going to the bar and speaking with the imperial there. The khajiit assassin took the opportunity to take in the more notable figures. A pale breton man with battle marked armour and a large sword, a pair of men in matching dark armour, speaking with a khajiit and a irritable looking imperial. Closer, were a pair of women, one of which was taking pains to avoid looking in their direction, sitting with a nord in plain robes. A masked man in a fox mask stood at their table.

    Elrasur returned, a tankard in one hand containing...Athara sniffed cautiously, 'water?' Strange, but it made certain sense, she supposed. Lowering your guard in this place could get you killed. The dunmer reported that the khajiit she'd seen sitting with the three other men had been hired to bring in mercenaries for the empire, but beyond that, he didn't know much. "You know as much as I do, then." She quipped, glancing at Orien as the dark elf asked him about any information he may have on the job. "It could be any number of things. I'm a simple battlemage in service of the empire. I wasn't exactly privy to decisions like the hiring of mercenaries." At those words, several heads turned to look at them, none of the expressions particularly friendly. She leaned towards him, "I would keep that to yourself, if I were you" she hissed.
     
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  6. Rafen

    Rafen Member

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    The redguard with shells woven into her braided hair, revealed that she was in fact a mercenary, and that the young imperial was her ward. Apparently, it wasn't safe for the girl in the city of Bruma itself. Caleb snuck a second glance at her. She seemed plain, unassuming, and frightened. Obviously she was seeing the under empire for the first time, but he couldn't for the life of him figure why the under empire would be safer than the city itself. A fugitive of some sort, then. Whatever her 'crimes' against the empire, she had nothing to fear from him. The redguard, who he was beginning to think was some kind of mage, based on her lack of visible weapons and the multicolored robes, started to say something, before glancing at the door.

    "Why is there an imperial mage here?" The woman hissed, turning her face away from the doorway. Caleb looked past her, and recognized the uniform. Old, powerful hatred stirred in his heart. His fingers itched to draw the blade hidden beneath his robes. With a monumental effort, he stifled the urge. "He doesn't seem like most I've seen. But be on guard. Where one imperial is, more aren't far behind." The healer continue to watch the man as he was joined by an elf and a khajiit, who accompanied him to a table. To Calebs' surprise, the imperial lacked the strange marking most battlemages he'd seen had on their foreheads. On guard now, he settled back in his seat, and kept a vigilant watch on the door.
     
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  7. The_Lost_Foxtrot

    The_Lost_Foxtrot Lord of Shadows

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    Mathias listened to the man and the one whom called herself Adalia talk, "forgive me for not aswering, I am known as The Grimm. And yes, I am answering the call of blades" he introduced himself. Just as the girl, Serana, came back wth a new bolw of soup, a group of three walked through the door. The two first that walked in was a male dumner and a female khajit, both garbed in light armor, possibly assassins while the last on was suprisingly an imperial battlemage. Adalia cursed slightly as she turned away from them, by her robes and reaction, he gueassed thet she was a unregistered mage.

    Mathias hummed slightly as he stepped a little onto the shadows,to cover himself from the newcomers better. the robed man said something about where theres one imperial, there were always more nearby. "I agree With the man, mages from the empire are alway up to no good, better keep an eye on him" he told them as he looked at Serana "you look a little young to be walking in the underempire doing sellsword work, how old are you?" he asked With a curious look in his glowing eyes, a eyebrow raised even of noone could see it.
     

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