Private Castle Elf Watch (Must be a member of the Kendov ahrk Ah)

  • Welcome to Skyrim Forums! Register now to participate using the 'Sign Up' button on the right. You may now register with your Facebook or Steam account!
  • Hey there, and welcome to our roleplaying section. Please take some time to read two of these useful resources below, if you're already a roleplaying expert, then there's no need to read the following beginner's guide, but be sure to read the rules.

    Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
    JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
    This thread is related to the Kendov ahrk Ah thread. If you are not a member join up ,if you already are then go on and post.

    Plot of the Story: Warriors and Hunters are currently in a state of crisis. Their leader, the Grand-Warrior an Altmer named Eariaril the Bold, was killed by his brother known as the Grand-Necromancer. Soon after the murder the Grand-Necromancer left with most of the orders members and was rumored to be in Morrowind. Now daedra and undead are starting to appear near the Skyrim-Morrowind border, and Ulfric continues to pressure the Warriors and Hunters into joining his side of the war. The Warriors and Hunters are in dire need of a leader and new members to fight back the Grand-Necromancer.
     
    Last edited:
    It was early in the morning, and Eimrir was in the process of writing a song he was writing in honor of the order's fallen leader. Looking for inspiration Eimrir stood up tied on his boots, and decided to find a book in the castle's library. It was a wondrous place filled shelf to shelf with books and documents it was often given light by several large stained glass windows. These windows depicted the conquests of Tiber Septim who had ordered this castle to be made. When there was no natural light, the guild's mages cast a spell so that several orbs of light floated through the library it was dark. It gave the room a mysterious feel and Eimrir loved it. "Going to have to right a song about the library one of these days." Eimrir thought to himself, as he searched through the many shelves for the book he needed.

    As Eimrir sat in a chair and read the book he felt something brush against him. When he looked down he saw his dog Wulfharth lying next to him. "What are you doing here?" Eimrir asked, and the dog got up and went to the door of the library. Eimrir followed the dog outside to the castle's arena and walked up to the top of the many stone steps that surround the fighting pit. The arena was a huge construct and it consisted of a pit and several weapons lining the walls. An audience would typically watch from several feet above seated on the steps watching the battle. No one used the fighting pit anymore not after the murder. It happen 2 months ago and what seemed like a friendly sparing match between brothers took a drastic turn. Although they removed the bodies, the Grand-Warrior's sword was still there. If someone wanted to spar or train, they did it in the courtyard, where a makeshift arena was made. "One day I will kill that elf, and write a song about his defeat." Eimrir wanted to slaughter the traitors who had killed his friend but their numbers were strong and no was stupid or brave enough to lay siege the the Grand-Necromancer's fortress.

    Where Eimrir was seated gave him a great view of the rest of the castle, the docks, the stables and the armory. Eimrir decided that he would call a meeting and decide whether or not they would avenge the Grand-Warrior. Eimir then saw several men and women riding towards the castle, the lead rider carried a blue banner. Eimrir didn't get a good look at it but it was obvious who they were. "Stormcloaks, it's been the fourth time this week" Eimir then quickly ran to the castle gates and secure them before the soldiers could once again request the Warriors and Hunters allegiance.
     
    Last edited:

    DeathInstigator

    New Member
    The chilly air of the morning wasn't going to stop the Altmer from being outside. Cheeks flushed slightly pink from the winds, she sat near the armoury, fletching arrows. The simple action of tightly winding thread around the shaft of the trio of hawk feathers was time-consuming, but distracted Eletha from mourning her previous leader. Stick, wind, tie, burn. Continuing the actions long enough for the sun to move, her quiver was full. The greyish cloak she wore swirled around her feet when she stood and reached for her bow.

    She pulled an arrow from the quiver which rested against the leg of the chair she had sat on, notching it with effortless grace. Raising and drawing her bow, she quickly aimed, and let loose the arrow at a nearby mannequin. The head tore through the thick fabric, digging into the wooden pole acting as a stand. A satisfied smile tugged her lips, and she removed the arrow, sliding it into the quiver.

    Inspecting the newly-carved arrow for a split, her long fingers traced the grain. A familiar sound of the gates being slid across the ground had Eletha looking up. She recognised Eimrir instantly, the hound running beside him a giveaway of the Nord. The gates weren't to be closed unless someone unwelcome was coming up the path to where the fortress was, so Eletha was definitely curious. As she jogged towards the gates, she pulled the quiver's belt tight around her waist, sliding the bow over her shoulder to sit on her back.
     
    Eimrir closed the gates just in time as the Stormcloaks stopped at the gate. "What is the meaning of this?" the lead rider yelled. Eimrir ignored him and sat down in the chair near the gate lever. He picked up and arrow and a quiver that sat on the small table next to him and looked at the Stormcloak commander. He didn't nock and arrow but the message was clear enough, stay back. When the storm cloak removed his snow bear fur cloak Eimrir got a good look at him. He was tall and had long braided black hair and blue war paint. However what was unique about was that he wasn't wearing the usual leather of a commander. Instead he wore plated steel armor with his gauntlets, greaves and shoulder plates in the shape of a bear head. His armor had a blue striped going diagonally down his armor, and the head of his war hammer was painted blue.

    Eimrir figured he must be from a noble family, likely a rich one if this soldier could afford that armor. "I am Rushodd, Thane of Windhelm, Chieftain of Clan Ice-Hammer, and Vassel of Ulfric Stormcloak. I demand you let me in this castle so I may bring the King's Message." Eimrir was tempted to put an arrow through this man's forehead. Eimrir spoke, "What is your message, speak it now." The noble got down from his horse, who was also armored, and spoke loud and confidently,"Jarl Ulfric is giving you 12 days to swear fealty to him, or else he will take this castle by force." Several heads turned on both sides, apparently not even Ulfric's own men knew about this. "We have no leader at this time, he was slain recently. The Warriors and Hunters cannot decide." Rushodd then spoke, once again in his confident condescending voice, "He was an elf, this doesn't surprise me, probably tried to hide behind his magic as he begged for mercy."

    Eimrir was sick of this, he hated this man. "Rushodd tell Ulfric he will have his answer on our own time." Rushodd spat on the ground and grimaced, "You will regret this, 25 men and women can't fend off half of Skyrim." He then mounted his horse and rode off into the distance.
    Eimrir decided he would call a meeting in the Great Hall, the matter would be discussed there. "Besides there is still the threat in Morrowind." He blew his war horn, catching the attention of all in his area. The other sentries in the towers did the same and everyone knew what that meant, a meeting would happen. One that would decide the fate of the Warriors and Hunters.
     

    solace84

    God of the Arena
    Dalious was outside the castle walls before the first light of the sun peaked. He had gathered a few squirrels and rabbits from the various snares he laid about, and in his pit trap he found a deer. The pit was meant for bigger game, such as a bear, but the meat he'd be able to salvage from the deer was more than welcome.

    The former soldier gutted and skinned the animals near the riverbed. He set the bones in one pouch, the skin and fur in another, and the meat in the last. Placing all the pouches upon his horse, he then went back and reset all the snares. By the time he had finished, the morning sun glimmered over the mountains and gave light to the cold valley surrounding him.

    He took a moment to relax and enjoy the view. Everyone in the guild handled the loss of their master differently, he chose to continue keeping busy. Dalious sat atop of a hill nearly covered in snow, his cloak blending him into the setting, and he began to meditate. The grand master had done a lot for him in such a short amount of time, and for that, he owed the man his allegiance and chose to avenge him in any way he could.

    From the hilltop, he saw the blue banners of the stormcloaks ride into the keep. He sparked up some dragongrass into his long wooden pipe, laughing as he witnessed the short conversation at the closed gates. Almost as soon as they had arrived, they were sent away by Eimrir. He then finished his smoke as the stormcloaks rode away, the horn of the castle blowing shortly afterward. There was to be a meeting. 'About time' he thought. He saddled up and headed back.
     
    Eimrir stood at the head of the table in the Great Hall. It was located in the center of the castle and in the middle of the room a large fire crackled and servants went around serving drinks and food. Around him several of his fellow guild members spoke, wondering what this meeting was about. "Settle down, as we know the Grand-Warrior is dead. Ulfric still wants us to join the war on his side. We have 12 days before he attacks. Now-" Before Eimrrir finished his sentence a volley of noise in erupted him. One of the guild members, a redguard healer, spoke up,"We should join him. We don't need this conflict." Then an ironclad khajjit stepped forward an spoke, "Let Ulfric come, he wants a battle, we'll be happy to oblige."

    Then arguing broke out amongst the crowd, literally spitting in two as if being on the wrong side would result in death. The fire looked menacing between the two group, representing the flames of war that would soon erupt if the situation was not handled with correctly. "This is madness!" the red guard fired out as the khajjit started chanting, "Death to the Stormcloaks! Death to the Stormcloaks!" Eimrrir tried to control the crowd, and Wulfharth started barking and growling the noise clearly bothering him. Swords were drawn and spells were readied as the khajjit drew his weapon and his followers did the same. The redguard casted a flesh spell, cloaking himself in a protective aura as he readied a ward spell. "Damn it, stop this fighting!" Eimrir yelled but to no avail, the two groups started to yell insults and threats "I'll crush your head in elf" an orc warrior yelled as he shook his warhammer. "Die you nord barbarian!" an imperial mage cried as he drew his dagger and readied a flame spell.

    Then a breton knight yelled out, "What of the threat on Morrowind, we shouldn't be worrying about Ulfric." The crowd then went quiet and everyone looked at Eimrrir. "It is true, hordes of undead and daedra are marching to the Skyrim-Morrowind border. I have asked some traveling merchants and they told me they have heard about strange lights near the Red Mountain. That is our destination." The crowd settled down and murmured amongst themselves. "And if your wrong and this expedition would be for nothing. Then what Eimirir, then what?" an Argonian hunter questioned. Eimrir thought about this, what of he was wrong and the rumors he heard were false. Then he answered, "I don't know, but I won't be bringing all of you I just need two other companions. Who wants to volunteer?"
     

    DeathInstigator

    New Member
    The horn was almost a comforting sound to Eletha, as fellow hunters and warriors who chose to stay after their leader was murdered rose from posts and rooms, stopped their daily chores around the fort to meet in the meeting hall. The Altmer didn't instantly move to the large building, pulling her hair back and watching the Stormcloaks as they moved from the fortress, Nordic horses footfalls stomping with their heavy weight and armoured riders. Eletha would have followed them, to make sure they went straight back to Windhelm, or at least to a Stormcloak camp further south, but knew felt something in her gut that a mage would be needed.

    Shouts and the ringing of steel greeted her when she entered the hall. The cries of a usually-tame Khajiit, the threats of an Orsimer that showed more control over his berserker ways than others of his race. Eletha had a mixed opinion on the entire argument. Ulfric was a racist bastard, who frowned upon any but his own race, but he was also a man that fought for a good cause. She didn't entirely agree that Skyrim should be a Province of Nords, but agreed that the Imperials and Dominion allies shouldn't try to force others to their bidding. Her teeth grit together. It wasn't the Breton's words alone that silenced the hall, a greenish glow had spread from her hands, a flash that could be missed with a blink. Eletha felt the sheer size of the spell drain her mana considerably, hands slightly trembling and breaths heavy. But the calm spell worked effectively, and Eimrir's words were able to echo throughout the hall without interruption.

    "You believe it is the bastard who murdered the Grand-one?" Eletha questioned after Eimrir asked for volunteers. She had stepped forward to where the Nord stood, several parting for her. A woman of little words, even less so after the murder, and she was speaking, most were shocked. Any chance for her to kill that damned necromancer, and she would take it. Her golden eyes glowed with the anticipation of making him suffer.
     
    Eimrir looked at Eletha and nodded, "Yes, it has to be, who else would be there. So Eleltha will you join me." Then a loud voice went clear, "Are you really asking this elf?" The speaker was a nord, usually tame and quiet, he was clearly filled with rage. "Jurren calm down." Eimrir said as the his friend and most loyal warrior started to yell insults at Eletha."Calm down friend no need for this nonsense." The speaker was a wood elf bard named Aentan, who was a good friend of Jurren. What happened next shocked everyone. Jurren drew his war axe and swung it at his friend, the steel cutting through his tunic like butter.

    Then all Oblivion broke loose as bystanders tried to hold Jurren back as he cursed and swung his axe wildly. Eimrir had enough of this,"Jurren what has gotten into you!" Then Eimrir noticed his eyes. They were boodshot and red, "He is under a spell." Eimrir thought. Then Eimrir saw someone, cloaked in black standing in the corner of the room his hands glowing red. Eimrir saw a similar effect starting to happen over the crowd and he knew what he had to do. Eimrir ran up and stabbed Jurren before any more damage could be done. When he looked for the figure he saw earlier he was gone. "I know this is bad, but will anyone else help me?"
     

    solace84

    God of the Arena
    Resting his feet against the table, Dalious sat back and puffed on his wooden pipe. The argument between everyone seemed to be split, one side wanted to face the Stormcloaks while the other wanted to join them. Dalious had little opinion on the matter, as it had taken him a great deal of time to show the Stormcloaks that he wasn't against them. He was an Imperial deserter, so either side of the armies had equal rights to kill him. The war didn't interest him at all, though, as all he wanted to do was avenge his master.

    He felt the spell Eletha had released, but since he was calm already it really did nothing except water his eyes a bit and make him feel more light headed than his dragon grass was already making him feel. He spit to the stone flooring and shook his head of the cobwebs. 'Hate it when she does that' he thought to himself. He wasn't a fan of spells or magic, but seeing the group get even more and more hostile he knew it was necessary.

    A large orc came over to him in the heat of the argument and swiped his feet off the table, clearly trying to irritate the Imperial for no reason. Dalious huffed. "Piss off," he muttered. The orc went back to arguing with someone else and he went back to smoking his pipeweed.

    The next thing he knew, he found himself fallen back from his chair and on the floor. It had happened so fast. One of the Nordlings cut through a bard elf, then began swinging his axe wildly at everyone. Eimrir was forced to take him down.

    Dark magic. The worst kind. Dalious knew he'd be in over his head going after a necromancer, but justice was justice. Besides, Eletha seemed to be powerful enough, maybe she would be able to even the odds. He knew no matter what he would be going with them, mainly because he had already made plans to himself to go on his own if need be. Though, he also knew he couldn't do it alone.

    "That's just my game," Dalious said, agreeing to journey with them. "I'm in."
     

    DeathInstigator

    New Member
    Eletha had replied to the question with an obvious nod, and a humming sound of approval. The yell of a Nord had her slamming a static filled hand down on a nearby table. How dare he accuse her words not being true. A growl almost like a Khajiit's bubbled from her throat, and she would've passed the point of simply yelling at him to slinging a bolt of lightning into the idiot's chest, if not for him swinging an axe into a nearby Bosmer. A shout came from Eletha, unintelligible amongst the shouting thate rupted from the attack.

    Another flash of green would have erupted, but Eletha felt a choking on her. It was like somebody was strangling her, but instead of not being able to breathe, she couldn't access the magicka around her. The Altmer's golden eyes met a man's, a man who was looking right at her. A hit in her head as though somebody had punched her, and she broke eye contact just as the words of a incantation to fill her with magic, courtesy of her Altmeri blood. The hold on her mana released itself, and she felt it hit her again, uncontained amounts she had to force down.

    With a cough and splutter, she was standing back up again. Eimrir had stabbed the other influenced by the magic of the cloaked figure, and other mages had already rushed off with the wounded Bosmer, fortunately those more experienced with restoration than Eletha was. An Imperial's voice echoed through the hall as Eimrir questioned who would join him to take down the necromancer. Seeking the man who said he would go, her eyes ran over the crowd; Dalious. That explained a bit. He, like her, wouldn't want to be here if the Stormcloaks attacked, and wouldn't want to be refused the offer to join simply because of his past.

    Her head was still slightly fuzzy as she pushed back the unneeded magicka, and after a few moments, was able to stop herself drowning in the connection. "I will go, the threat is nothing when there is opportunity to kill that Oblivion-spawned bastard."
     
    Eimrir nodded and spoke,"Then it is decided, we shall march on the Red Mountain and slay him. It will be dangerous, daedra and undead will try to stop us at every corner, not to mention the traitors who have join the Grand-Necromancer. We leave in three days, pack your belongings and say your good-byes." Eimrir left the room with his new allies and went into his quarters as they spit ways. He packed his armor, sword and lute as well as food for both himself and his dog. Luckily he had a horse, a beautiful mare who was a cross between the nordic breed and the imperial breed. She had the strength of a nord horse and the speed of an imperial horse, the best of both worlds. Eimrir would feel the stable-master to provide Eletha and Dalius with horses for the travel. But for now he would go the the bathing room for a while to relax. As he enter the bath house he was welcomed with a blast of heat and humidity.

    It was always hot, as the mages figured out how to light a permeant fire underneath, keeping the room at a perfect temperature. Eimrir changed into the long thick hooded robe that was required as the bath house was open to both genders. This was part of the orders rules as they wanted no segregation what so ever. Many of the orders members found this is annoying, and at often times uncomfortable. So many people used this room as more of a sauna, and it was where many of the order's members spent their evenings. "How difficult could it be for Septim to build two bath houses!" Eimrir exclaimed out loud as he enter the main bathing room. It was crowded and Eimrir stat down on one of the benches and talked with the chief-blacksmith, a tall slim dark elf, "What do you need Eimrir?" Eimrir replied back,"What advice can you give me about Morrowind.", the dumner sighed and spoke, "It is a wasteland, almost nothing lives there, except maybe some of the more bolder tribes of Ashlanders. Eimrir I don't want to tell you this but you and your allies will die. If the ashlanders don't get you then the Grand-Necromancers's army will." Eimrir looked at the blacksmith and spoke,"We will give our best try."

     

    solace84

    God of the Arena
    Dalious went down a line of men and embraced their arms as to say farewell. He grew close to a few of them, but still respected their decisions to stay behind. He never judged anyone, especially a friend. He bid his farewells and then took to drinking by outside in the vineyard. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he packed his only belongings besides the clothes on his back. His swords, one made of silver and the other made of steel. The silver one was shorter, and used for quick confrontations while the other could pierce through armor.

    He stayed out there for his final moments. The vineyard overlooked the mountain pass, with a blue hue of color sprouting around in the sky. The light of the sun glimmered atop the peaks. It was beautiful. Soaking in the fresh morning air, he began to practice his swords on the dummy obstacles they had out there as well. He was always looking to improve his skill. The wine didn't hurt either.

    He continued to practice until he got the orders to move out.
     
    Eimrir put on his armor as he was getting ready to train some of the recruits before he left. Later that day he looked at the new recruits, there was 4. One of them was a disgraced son of an imperial noble who had no experience in weapons at all. The second was breton thief who clutched two daggers at his side at was smirking evilly. The third was argonian fisher who was looking for a more adventurous life. The fourth was a nord sellsword who was clad in leather and chain mail. Eimrir gave the fisherman a iron axe and had him practice on a training dummy. The imperial noble was busy trying to flirt with some of the female members of the order. The thief was attempting to pickpocket an orc warrior. The nord drew his sword and lifted his shield.

    The sellsword put up a good fight and actually challenged Eimrir. Eimrir blocked the first blow and went for an overhead slash, only for it to be parried. The sellsword sidestepped slashed a his chest grazing Eimrir's armor. Eimrir bashed the mercenary's face with the hilt of his sword and disarmed him. "Good job, great footwork, so just practice with Dalious for a little bit." Eimrir motioned over to his comrade and called him over, "Hey Dalious practice with this recruit for a while would you?"
     

    Latest posts

Top