Sveinbjorn
Skald
(Alright, I have never did an RP before so forgive this attempt if it's wrong and flatter me if it's good haha. Anyone may feel free to join, but if it seems that your character does not or wouldn't fit into the storyline at the time, feel free to do a "Pulp Fiction-esque" deal and build up your character. Then perhaps our chars. can meet later *eyebrows bounce up and down* Be sure to label when you do that though so there is no confusion. Herr goes.)
Traveling south into Falkreath had been pleasant enough. Not too hot, not too cold, and the sun's rays shimmered through the branches gleaming off of Stigandr's delicately crafted beard clasp, it was a good ride. After spending most of the day fishing the waters of Lake Ilinalta and picking the straw out of his thickly braided sandy blonde beard and hair from a tumble he had taken down the hill by Moss Mother Cavern, it was best to return home before it got dark. Talk of a particularly nasty group of bandits had spread rather quickly all throughout the hold and lower parts of the reach. The bandits were said to have come from Hammerfell. Stigandr could handle himself easily in a scrap. It was a widely spread story of how he had taken on 5 men at once while piss drunk in a pub brawl and left with little more than a scratch and slight bruising. However after the stories he had been hearing, even he did not want to be caught by this particular group of bandits along the road all alone. It was told that there were more than 40 men and women in this group and they rarely travelled alone, and their idea of alone was 5 or less warm bodies.
Now Stigandr didn't necessarily pay much attention to the local gab but he also wasn't one to risk himself either way, he knew his capabilities and if these stories had even the tiniest hint of veracity to them it still meant that there was a good sized group to deal with. He adjusted the strap on his belt as his sword began to slide off of him from the terrain. The moons were high but the sun had yet to duck beneath the horizon. "We have got to move along Blodøx.. Asa will have my head, if I am late again." he muttered to his horse. A stocky black draft with grey feathering around the hooves. He made a left off the trail a little past Cracked Tusk Keep and continued on throughout the forest until he reached his farm. By this time it was eerily dark as the tree canopy blocked out the moonlight. He saw the lights of his home burning in the distance. He continued onto his land and stabled his horse round the left of his small farmhouse.
As his foot hit the ground a sharp pain seared through his right shoulder. It was one of the most painful things Stigandr had ever experience. He let out a loud shout as he looked down to see what had happened. At this time he heard laughing and his vision began to blur. He saw the point of an arrow protruding from his shoulder down through the collar bone. It had some sort of blue substance as well as his blood. He tried to walk towards his home but he was struck with yet another arrow through his calve muscle, missed his bone by a hair. He let out another loud scream and fell onto his back as the world spun around him. He stared up through a small clearing at Secunda it's whiteness flashing multiple colors as his vision was further blurred by whatever blue gel like substance he had been stricken with.... then everything went black. He could still hear laughing and he then heard the screams of his wife Asa and the cries of his son Einar. He couldn't move, all he could do was listen.
In what seemed like seconds he opened his eyes. He had no strength in his body. He looked at his arms and legs and the arrows had healed into his body and he was 20 to thirty pounds lighter. It was raining and he was still on his back in the same position. He struggled to turn his head and look at his home which was nothing but a few burnt logs and one stone chimney. He began to weep but the energy used to do this made him feel as if he was about to die. He had to find something to eat.
He heard a rustling in the treeline behind the stables, and then he remembered his horse. "BLODOX" he cried hoarsely. "BLODOX" he cried again. He then heard the pounding of hooves. He could not believe it. Somehow either the bandits didn't want his horse, or the horse had freed itself and fed itself, he had no clue as to how this was possible, but he did not care. The horse trotted itself over to him, he still had 4 rotting fish on hanging from the horses saddle, but he also had stale bread that Asa had baked for him before he left that day. "Asa" he said to himself as he began to weep again. He tried to eat what he could of the bread, picking off the mold, not caring about the taste. He mustered all the strength he could and pulled himself atop the horse, arrows still hanging out of his shoulder and leg. Draped over the horses back on his stomach he road into Falkreath, and commanded his horse to stop at the Inn. He then proceeded to fall off onto the ground, the door opened and all inside gathered to see what all the noise was, "Help me," said Stigandr as he passed out again on the steps.
As the world turned dark again for Stigandr, an image flashed in his head, and it was one any true nord would recognize. It was a downward pointing, slender, spear head and atop the spear head, upon the handle, were two axes facing opposite each other. Suddenly light filled his vision and he was awake again, this time with no arrows in him, but freshly bandaged wounds.
"You alright there? You were thrashing about wildly, we were barely able to remove those arrows." said Valga Vincia the innskeeper.
"How did this happen, Stig?" asked Solaf.
"I was returning home from fishing out by the lake when I had stabled my horse and the next thing I know I'm taking arrow to the shoulder and leg and I am out. With all this talk of bandits out of Hammerfell and Asa is gone and Einar is gone as well. Solaf, the boy was only 8 winters old. Not only that I no longer have a home, the farm is in ruins. All I have is my horse." replied Stigandr as he hung his head.
"I wish I could help brother, They say you were poisoned somehow... I may actually be able to help you there." Solaf said.
"How so?" replied Stigandr.
"I'm going to go get you some food and drink," said Valga.
"I would appreciate it very much Valga," said Stigandr, "now what were you saying Solaf?"
"Well, I have been noticing a few shady characters ducking in and out of Zaria's place late in the night and sometimes early in the morning." said Solaf.
"What do you mean by shady, brother? " asked Stigandr.
"Well, Zaria is a Redguard... and I have heard the rumors as well as you. People sneaking in and out, trying to hide, it's cowardly. It's exactly what a bandit would do. Not only that she runs Grave Concoctions, and her specialty is poisons, if that doesn't sound suspect Stiggy then I don't know what does." said Solaf.
"We can't just implicate her because she is Redguard. However, that doesn't mean we can't watch her. If you would Solaf, I ask you to watch her closely. See if there is any pattern to these little night gatherings, see if they come empty handed and leave with goods, any information is worthy." said Stigandr.
"What are you going to do?" Solaf asked.
Valga then entered the room with a pot of vegetable stew and 2 loaves of bread. She placed them upon the bedside table near Stigandr's head.
"I am going to eat and rest for a while. After I feel comfortable I am going to ride into Riften. If anyone knows who these Bandits and Thieves are it will be someone in the Thieves Guild. I will get information from them whether they want to give it or not. I don't have the patience to deal with their petty games." said Stigandr sternly.
"Well, then I guess I am off to the store, I hope you feel better. Hey Stig..." said Solaf.
"Yes?" Stigandr replied.
"Do you remember when we were outside whiterun? We were surrounded by those Imperial bastards and one had cut my side and you took his arm off before he could even retract his blade? Then you carried me back to the camp?" Solaf reminisced.
Stigandr chuckled, "Very much so, Remember what you did next?"
"Yes, pissed my pants and opened up a store." Solaf laughed.
"No, you told me that you would forever be indebted." said Stigandr.
"And I am..." said Solaf.
"No, you are not. You care for me as if you were my own brother. You owe me nothing." said Stigandr.
Solaf smiled to himself as he walked, "Until next time" he shouted as he made his way out. Stigandr rolled over in his bed and stared at the ceiling, almost numb. He was in shock as to everything that happened. He picked up the bowl and ate his soup, which tasted amazing.
My wife and son are in captivity... or dead... or worse and here I sit eating soup.... he finished his soup and laid his head back and went to sleep. Throughout the whole night he was troubled by strange dreams, dreams of a face he had known well.
A deep voice thundered and rose him from his sleep saying, "It is not bandits you seek son of skyrim. It is something far darker, be vigilant."
"Who is this?" Stigandr shouted, his heart beating faster, the metallic taste of fear in his mouth as his eyes darted around the room searching for the source. But there was no reply, the inn was silent.
Traveling south into Falkreath had been pleasant enough. Not too hot, not too cold, and the sun's rays shimmered through the branches gleaming off of Stigandr's delicately crafted beard clasp, it was a good ride. After spending most of the day fishing the waters of Lake Ilinalta and picking the straw out of his thickly braided sandy blonde beard and hair from a tumble he had taken down the hill by Moss Mother Cavern, it was best to return home before it got dark. Talk of a particularly nasty group of bandits had spread rather quickly all throughout the hold and lower parts of the reach. The bandits were said to have come from Hammerfell. Stigandr could handle himself easily in a scrap. It was a widely spread story of how he had taken on 5 men at once while piss drunk in a pub brawl and left with little more than a scratch and slight bruising. However after the stories he had been hearing, even he did not want to be caught by this particular group of bandits along the road all alone. It was told that there were more than 40 men and women in this group and they rarely travelled alone, and their idea of alone was 5 or less warm bodies.
Now Stigandr didn't necessarily pay much attention to the local gab but he also wasn't one to risk himself either way, he knew his capabilities and if these stories had even the tiniest hint of veracity to them it still meant that there was a good sized group to deal with. He adjusted the strap on his belt as his sword began to slide off of him from the terrain. The moons were high but the sun had yet to duck beneath the horizon. "We have got to move along Blodøx.. Asa will have my head, if I am late again." he muttered to his horse. A stocky black draft with grey feathering around the hooves. He made a left off the trail a little past Cracked Tusk Keep and continued on throughout the forest until he reached his farm. By this time it was eerily dark as the tree canopy blocked out the moonlight. He saw the lights of his home burning in the distance. He continued onto his land and stabled his horse round the left of his small farmhouse.
As his foot hit the ground a sharp pain seared through his right shoulder. It was one of the most painful things Stigandr had ever experience. He let out a loud shout as he looked down to see what had happened. At this time he heard laughing and his vision began to blur. He saw the point of an arrow protruding from his shoulder down through the collar bone. It had some sort of blue substance as well as his blood. He tried to walk towards his home but he was struck with yet another arrow through his calve muscle, missed his bone by a hair. He let out another loud scream and fell onto his back as the world spun around him. He stared up through a small clearing at Secunda it's whiteness flashing multiple colors as his vision was further blurred by whatever blue gel like substance he had been stricken with.... then everything went black. He could still hear laughing and he then heard the screams of his wife Asa and the cries of his son Einar. He couldn't move, all he could do was listen.
In what seemed like seconds he opened his eyes. He had no strength in his body. He looked at his arms and legs and the arrows had healed into his body and he was 20 to thirty pounds lighter. It was raining and he was still on his back in the same position. He struggled to turn his head and look at his home which was nothing but a few burnt logs and one stone chimney. He began to weep but the energy used to do this made him feel as if he was about to die. He had to find something to eat.
He heard a rustling in the treeline behind the stables, and then he remembered his horse. "BLODOX" he cried hoarsely. "BLODOX" he cried again. He then heard the pounding of hooves. He could not believe it. Somehow either the bandits didn't want his horse, or the horse had freed itself and fed itself, he had no clue as to how this was possible, but he did not care. The horse trotted itself over to him, he still had 4 rotting fish on hanging from the horses saddle, but he also had stale bread that Asa had baked for him before he left that day. "Asa" he said to himself as he began to weep again. He tried to eat what he could of the bread, picking off the mold, not caring about the taste. He mustered all the strength he could and pulled himself atop the horse, arrows still hanging out of his shoulder and leg. Draped over the horses back on his stomach he road into Falkreath, and commanded his horse to stop at the Inn. He then proceeded to fall off onto the ground, the door opened and all inside gathered to see what all the noise was, "Help me," said Stigandr as he passed out again on the steps.
As the world turned dark again for Stigandr, an image flashed in his head, and it was one any true nord would recognize. It was a downward pointing, slender, spear head and atop the spear head, upon the handle, were two axes facing opposite each other. Suddenly light filled his vision and he was awake again, this time with no arrows in him, but freshly bandaged wounds.
"You alright there? You were thrashing about wildly, we were barely able to remove those arrows." said Valga Vincia the innskeeper.
"How did this happen, Stig?" asked Solaf.
"I was returning home from fishing out by the lake when I had stabled my horse and the next thing I know I'm taking arrow to the shoulder and leg and I am out. With all this talk of bandits out of Hammerfell and Asa is gone and Einar is gone as well. Solaf, the boy was only 8 winters old. Not only that I no longer have a home, the farm is in ruins. All I have is my horse." replied Stigandr as he hung his head.
"I wish I could help brother, They say you were poisoned somehow... I may actually be able to help you there." Solaf said.
"How so?" replied Stigandr.
"I'm going to go get you some food and drink," said Valga.
"I would appreciate it very much Valga," said Stigandr, "now what were you saying Solaf?"
"Well, I have been noticing a few shady characters ducking in and out of Zaria's place late in the night and sometimes early in the morning." said Solaf.
"What do you mean by shady, brother? " asked Stigandr.
"Well, Zaria is a Redguard... and I have heard the rumors as well as you. People sneaking in and out, trying to hide, it's cowardly. It's exactly what a bandit would do. Not only that she runs Grave Concoctions, and her specialty is poisons, if that doesn't sound suspect Stiggy then I don't know what does." said Solaf.
"We can't just implicate her because she is Redguard. However, that doesn't mean we can't watch her. If you would Solaf, I ask you to watch her closely. See if there is any pattern to these little night gatherings, see if they come empty handed and leave with goods, any information is worthy." said Stigandr.
"What are you going to do?" Solaf asked.
Valga then entered the room with a pot of vegetable stew and 2 loaves of bread. She placed them upon the bedside table near Stigandr's head.
"I am going to eat and rest for a while. After I feel comfortable I am going to ride into Riften. If anyone knows who these Bandits and Thieves are it will be someone in the Thieves Guild. I will get information from them whether they want to give it or not. I don't have the patience to deal with their petty games." said Stigandr sternly.
"Well, then I guess I am off to the store, I hope you feel better. Hey Stig..." said Solaf.
"Yes?" Stigandr replied.
"Do you remember when we were outside whiterun? We were surrounded by those Imperial bastards and one had cut my side and you took his arm off before he could even retract his blade? Then you carried me back to the camp?" Solaf reminisced.
Stigandr chuckled, "Very much so, Remember what you did next?"
"Yes, pissed my pants and opened up a store." Solaf laughed.
"No, you told me that you would forever be indebted." said Stigandr.
"And I am..." said Solaf.
"No, you are not. You care for me as if you were my own brother. You owe me nothing." said Stigandr.
Solaf smiled to himself as he walked, "Until next time" he shouted as he made his way out. Stigandr rolled over in his bed and stared at the ceiling, almost numb. He was in shock as to everything that happened. He picked up the bowl and ate his soup, which tasted amazing.
My wife and son are in captivity... or dead... or worse and here I sit eating soup.... he finished his soup and laid his head back and went to sleep. Throughout the whole night he was troubled by strange dreams, dreams of a face he had known well.
A deep voice thundered and rose him from his sleep saying, "It is not bandits you seek son of skyrim. It is something far darker, be vigilant."
"Who is this?" Stigandr shouted, his heart beating faster, the metallic taste of fear in his mouth as his eyes darted around the room searching for the source. But there was no reply, the inn was silent.
