1. 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!
    Dismiss Notice
  2. 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
    Dismiss Notice

18+ The Forgotten

Discussion in 'Active Stories' started by IntrepidVenture, Jul 5, 2019.

  1. IntrepidVenture

    Joined:
    Jun 24, 2019
    Messages:
    33
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    48
    It has been five years since the events of the dragon crisis, and the dragonborn has gone into seclusion with the greybeards. The civil war, which ruined so much and cost so many lives, has come to a bloody stalemate. The imperial legion has withdrawn back to Cyrodiil, and keeps a wary watch on the triumphant rebels. The thalmor have retreated as well, and the embassy once nearby Solitude has been destroyed. For the most part, Skyrim is at peace.

    Or at least...that's what the official statement is. People have been disappearing, and in secluded areas of the province the dead are having problems staying that way. Whispers mention an ancient, powerful evil, referred to only as the 'Forgotten'. For the most part this is dismissed as pointless fear mongering, but little explanation is coming from the jarls or the self-styled 'High King' Ulfric Stormcloak.

    In the Reach, Markarths mine production has been suffering. While the Silver-Blood family has been tight lipped about what, exactly is causing these delays, they have posted a contract for a part of adventurers to clear out a group of forsworn lurking inside one of their larger mines.


    Cast

    IntrepidVenture as Emeric Balador

    Aspen as Valion and Vaella Heldrian

    Drahkma as
    Vorhael Kondreth

    Alty as Allo

    Thesius as Kallus Briarhand

    Rell as Balgur Nar Shadat

    The_Lost_Foxtrot as Nagò Ri'zahr

    TheArgonianDrell as Sothas Abrium and Aylira Taliir

    MorbidBread as Draj Kir

    TheShadedOne as Kaliir Dihvaasa

    Madrar as Merric Vasser

    Current characters: 13
     
    • Like Like x 7
    • Optimistic Optimistic x 2
  2. IntrepidVenture

    Joined:
    Jun 24, 2019
    Messages:
    33
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    48
    The city of stone, more commonly known as Markarth, was not a quiet place. Even high above, in the comfortable, if sparcely decorated lobby of the Silver Blood offices, the shouts of quarry workers could be heard. Closer, and only barely muted by the bronze, dwemer inspired doors, was the constant rumble of the grand waterfall that served as the source of the streams and canals that provided the city with fresh water and waste disposal.

    That was not what irritated Emeric Balador, the breton warlock. Nor was it the uncomfortable and rigid stone chair he sat in, set against the wall beside the doors. Not even the nervous glances he received from employees of the Silver Blood family as they hurried about their business bothered him too much.

    No, it was the simple fact that Thonar Silver Blood, the man in charge of overseeing the mines, including the mine that was mentioned in the contract that Emeric had been made aware of, was late to their meeting. He hated tardiness especially after the guard at the gate had told him to hurry up to the treasury house. Apparently, Thonar was expecting him.

    As if the thought had summoned the man, he appeared, walking at an unhurried pace from a side corridor. He at Emeric, glanced at the door, then back to the warlock. "You must be here for the details on the contract."

    "It would appear so." Emeric responded, his rasping voice emerging from the depths of his hood. He held out a skeletal hand, pale from lack of exposure to the sun. "Would you care to elaborate on it here, or in your office?"

    The nord scowled, unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a manner, obviously. "There's little to talk about. Several days ago, a large warband of Forsworn took a nearby mine. The jarl wants the guards to remain near the city in case of an attack. That leaves you and whatever other sellswords happen to show up to deal with them. I'm willing to pay a thousand gold to each of you, once the job is done. But the other mercenaries will doubtless be at my inn, down in the city marketplace. "

    He gestured towards the door. "You should go join them." Emeric stood without a word. He realized that asking for an audience with the self proclaimed most influential man in the Reach had been foolish. It was clear that the disappearing people concerned him much less than the profits he was losing so long as the Forsworn occuppied one of his mines. "Don't come back until that mine is cleared." Thonar said to the warlocks back.

    This, Emeric reflected, brought up complications. He was no leader, and even less of a talker. Yet he seemed to be expected to lead, or at the least work with- a group of mercenaries, adventurers, or do-gooders, to free the mine. It would be an...unpleasant experience, of that he was sure.
     
    • Like Like x 4
    • Creative Creative x 4
  3. TheArgonianDrell

    TheArgonianDrell Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Sep 21, 2013
    Messages:
    156
    Likes Received:
    382
    Reputation:
    30
    Markarth. The city of stone. Where blood flowed more freely than water, or so the saying went. Quite possibly the richest city in Skyrim, with the end of the war, five years past. "What a dung hole." The small dunmer woman spat, scowling at a pair of passer by. She may have been small and diminutive next to her massive companion, but she had enough ferocity for the both of them. Or maybe spite was a better word.

    "It's not so bad." Was the rumbled response from Sothas Abrium, her companion for nearly a decade, and an insufferable optimist. He moved with a confidence that came from an assurance that he could handle any threat that came his way. The tower shield across his back and longsword at his hip probably didn't hurt.

    Aylira Taliir rolled her eyes and shook her head, sending her long black hair flying every which way. To her continued irritation, that just made Sothas chuckle; a deep rumbled that sounded more like boulders crashing together than a sound made by a living person. "You would say that about Oblivion itself."

    The argonian shrugged, "it's not cold. Nobody is trying to kill us. We have enough gold to rent rooms for a week if we need to. What's there to complain about?"

    "Hmm" Aylira folded one arm, palm cupping her other elbow as she walked, adopting a thoughtful pose and rubbing her chin. "Well let's see; people are going missing, even though the Thalmor ran back to Cyrodiil when the legion left. We were attacked by bandits three times on the road here, and, oh yes, we're here because the forsworn decided to invade some mine owned by the wealthiest family in the region. Who for some reason, put out a contract, rather than just hiring local sellswords."

    As she spoke, she counted off the reasons with her fingers. "Am I forgetting anything?" She said with mock sweetness, and when Sothas didn't speak up, she sighed and shook her head. "I'm just saying, we don't know what we're up against here. Forsworn are plenty dangerous in the wilds, but fighting our way through a mine filled with them? That's a lot, even for you." She ran an affectionate hand down his armoured arm.

    "A fair point" Sothas rumbled, "but we won't be alone. For now, we should wait at the inn, see if anyone else has arrived." He nodded towards a sign that declared the building it was attached to was the Silver-Blood inn. The unlikely pair, huge argonian and petite dunmer, stepped inside. Neither were strangers to odd looks, but the people inside the inn seemed particularly unhappy to see them.

    "Find us seats." Sothas murmured to the dark elf woman, and approached the bar. An older man in an apron and dirty white tunic, with stringy, greying hair shuffled over to him.

    "Welcome to the Silver Blood inn. What can I get for you?"

    "Ales to start. My friend and I worked up a powerful thirst on the road."

    The innkeeper bobbed his head and fished under the counter for a few moments. He placed two corked bottles of ale in front of Sothas, who dropped several septims in the humans' outstretched hand. "Anything else you need?"

    "Information. We came to the Reach because of the forsworn infestation, but the contract was very vague. As a local, I was hoping you'd know more." He dropped another five gold onto the counter between them. In the blink of an eye, they vanished into an apron pocket.

    "I had you pegged as mercenaries the moment you walked in." The man said, "but I can't help much. The Silver Bloods have been keeping any news about the mine to themselves, and they probably won't appreciate you poking around. You've already caused quite a stir just by arriving. Take a look around." He nodded to a corner, where a group of four men in dirty tunics and with grubby face sat. "Miners. The Silver Bloods are cutting their wages to pay for the mine to be cleared, and they aren't happy about it."

    Sothas nodded his thanks, and grabbed the ale bottles. Not the information he had hoped for, but something was better than nothing at all. Aylira cocked an eyebrow at him as he eased himself into one of the sturdier looking chairs at a secluded table, near the far right corner of the common room. "Good news, I'm sure?" She deadpanned, taking a bottle from him.

    "No news, besides that the Silver Bloods are paying us with miners wages. Nothing about the mines or the amount of forsworn in them." Sothas reported, uncorking his bottle and taking a sip.

    "That'd explain the dark looks. But I would have thought the wealthiest family in Markarth would want their mercenaries to know what they're walking into." The argonian could only shrug at that. Perhaps more would become clear as others who'd seen or heard of the contract arrived in the city of stone.
     
    • Creative Creative x 4
    • Like Like x 3
  4. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

    Joined:
    Aug 12, 2017
    Messages:
    90
    Likes Received:
    229
    Reputation:
    55
    Draj Kir slung his shield over his shoulder, rested a hand on the haft of his axe, and listened. The sounds of rushing water, bird song, and the occasional bleating cry of a goat. In the distance, what must have been Markarth stone towers capped with brass or bronze stood high over the city walls.

    Reaching into his belt pouch, he pulled out the slightly crumpled piece of paper- the contract he'd stumbled across while spending entirely too much coin in Bruma's taverns and whore houses. He'd arrived in Skyrim a little over two weeks ago and had quickly learned that the Silver Bloods were one of, if not the most wealthy families in Skyrim.

    For them to afford Draj Kirs' services, they had better be. He did not especially like the cold of the province, and he'd found out that khajiit, or outsiders of any kind weren't exactly made welcome in the province. Even if the place had been at peace for the past five years or so.

    Satisfied nothing waited to ambush him in the surrounding foothills- nothing he could hear at any rate, he continued towards the city in the distance. After crossing a bridge, he started to encounter guard patrols. Most ignored him, but he did get a few strange looks. By the time he reached the gates, he was noticed, and stopped. "What's your business in Markarth, eh...mercenary?" One of the guardsmen demanded.

    "Draj Kir has a contract here, from your Silver Blood family. I will need to be inside the city, I am thinking, yes?" He held out the scrap of parchment and the guard glanced at the writing before nodding to his comrade. "You'll want to head to the Silver Blood inn. Heard some argonian and his dark elf companion showed up there a couple hours ago. I'd bet my last septim they're on the same job you are."

    "Draj Kir thanks you. Have a pleasant day, yes?" The khajiit pushed through the heavy gates to the city, and stepped into some sort of marketplace. The noise, sights and smells of a large city assaulted him, but he wasn't interested in the various goods on offer. To buy trinkets and gear, one needed gold, and he was running dangerously low on that.

    A sign advertised the inn that the guard had mentioned, and the khajiit warrior shouldered his way through the crowd to get to the door. The inns' common room wasn't crowded, but it was far from empty. In one corner, a group of men in grubby looking work clothes sat. A few locals at were at the bar, doubtless regulars, and in the corner opposite the workers, was the dark elf and a truly massive argonian.

    Neither of them looked particularly welcoming, but nothing was ever gained by being bashful. He sauntered over to them, and hooked his thumbs in his belt. "Greetings to you."He dropped the parchment between the pair. "Draj Kir has been hired to complete this contract. Would it be fair to assume you are in the same wagon, so to speak?"
     
    • Like Like x 4
    • Creative Creative x 4
  5. Alty

    Alty Caw Caw

    Joined:
    Mar 31, 2018
    Messages:
    75
    Likes Received:
    102
    Reputation:
    57
    Septims, gloriously gold, beautifully sounded as they hit the stablemaster's greedy and anxious paw. Greed for gold's temptation, and anxiety from the mask that hollowly stared at and through him, pulsing without life. The rose-grey horse of fine condition proved the elf to be anything but a bad omen, however, and the stablemaster accepted the change without suspicion. A black-suited hand with finely patterned scales for bracers patted the hard flank of the horse encouragingly, and the beast walked alongside an assistant stablehand without fuss. It was a good steed without name, rented once, but its owner had died a week ago from old age. So to Markarth, steadily held by stone but the people unsteady, she carried Allo.

    His fingers sparked with thought and tingled with sorcery unused since that morning, folded in front of his chest in greeting to Phynaster; Allo's sure strut defied him, but the long strides were necessary as he hurried for the doors just as a head of pale grey streaked with black pushed through.

    "Citizen?"

    His purpose was questioned through a plated helmet. His conspicuous image questioned. He disregarded how the guard flinched as his hand was quick to point at the mercenary slithering through the bustle towards the inn. The inn he would avoid to avoid verbal hassles.

    "Citizen", the guard said once more, now in understanding. It was a voice kin to Skyrim, common and neutral, but Allo hated it nonetheless. He wiped that hatred from his high head as he marched through the doors, their gold nothing rich compared to Markarth's entirety. Envy is cruel. Envy is repulsive.

    He passed the friendly corner - the eyes upon him all but - straight for the spoiled boy whose name had much weight to it. Thonar Silver-Blood. Instead, he was met with a frail figure, just exiting the unhumble abode. Frail, while laden with robes. Allo found himself looking up to maintain eye contact behind his imposing face, though he could see no eyes under the hood.

    He glanced at the door drenched with the name Silver-Blood, then back to the concave face, asking without voice and his head tilted, arms folded expectantly.
     
    • Like Like x 5
    • Creative Creative x 2
  6. Aspen

    Aspen Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2019
    Messages:
    22
    Likes Received:
    28
    Reputation:
    0
    A pair of elves, unusual for their dark hair and pale complexions if nothing else, stepped through the gates of Markarth. They were identical in most ways, with the male being a little taller, and the curiosity in his eyes veering more towards suspicion than those of his sister. "Markarth." The word was not quite a sneer, coming from the mouth of the male elf, Valion. But it was close, and it earned him a disapproving glance from the female elf, his twin sister. "I'd heard tales of this city, but never thought it could be so...barren."

    That, Vaella Heldrien had to admit, was the truth. The stonework was certainly impressive but there was no greenery, besides a few plants in stone containers. "Barren or not, this is where the Silver Bloods are supposed to be. And we need the gold."

    Valion relented somewhat, nodding from within the depths of his hood. "We should head to the inn first then. If these Silver Bloods are as rich as it's said, I doubt they will be there, but perhaps we will meet others with the same purpose." Her brother, Vaella noted, did not look too thrilled about the prospect of meeting these others. She brushed off his lack of enthusiasm and glanced around until she saw a promising looking building.

    "There" she pointed it out, "the silver blood inn" she read and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, they certainly have a talent for naming things after themselves."

    "Hmm." Valion agreed, leading the way, keeping his eyes on the crowd of people in the market place. Skirting the edge of a large group, they reached the door to the inn without incident and the siblings pushed inside. The air stank of smoke, stale ale, and even less pleasant things that Vaella tried not to think about too hard. The lighting was dim, but not so dim that they could not make out the patrons sitting at the bar, or at tables scattered around the inns' common room.

    Most of them appeared to be locals, and of those, many seemed to be workers of some kind. Miners, probably, considering the mountainous terrain all around. "They don't seem terribly happy." Vaella whispered in her brothers ear. Valion nodded almost imperceptably towards a trio sitting at the far corner of the room. "I would guess those three are the reason. Outsiders, like us."

    They would have been cloaked in shadow, if not for the flickerings of a wall mounted candle nearby, and the sheer size of the argonian with them. Beside the scaled humanoid was another elf, dunmer, by the grey of her skin, that was dwarfed by her companion. By the way they sat, seemingly at ease with one another, they were familiar with each other. At the moment, their attention was on a khajiit in half leather, half steel armor, with a dangerous looking axe at his belt, and a shield slung over his back.

    "Then we should go introduce ourselves!" Vaella exclaimed, eager to meet her travelling companions. With her back turned she missed her twins irritated scowl. "Wait!" He hissed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. "We don't know anything about those three. Better to see how they interact before we approach."

    Vaella wanted to scold her brother for his paranoid behavior, but at the same time- he had a point. Mercenaries could be unpredictable. Especially when a contract was in the midst of being negotiated. Or a partnership formed, if that's what was happening in the corner. She gave in with a nod, and instead lead her brother to a table at the left side of the room. It offered a good view of both the door and the rest of the common area. "And now we wait." Valion said, leaning back until his entire upper body was covered in near darkness.
     
    • Like Like x 3
    • Creative Creative x 3
  7. TheArgonianDrell

    TheArgonianDrell Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Sep 21, 2013
    Messages:
    156
    Likes Received:
    382
    Reputation:
    30
    Solus had been about to agree with his companions' observations, but their conversation was cut short by a khajiit in half-plate. The argonians eyes were drawn to the icy blue ones of the newcomer. He was a mercenary of some kind and he introduced himself as Draj Kir, saying he'd been contracted to clear out the mine, same as them.

    Sothus had just barely opened his mouth to respond when Aylira spoke up "we might be. Might be that we'll let you tag along when we go. But first we should talk about splitting the profits. Breaking up the reward between the three of us won't be easy, but since we got here first, I think it's only fair we get the larger cut."

    The argonian warrior silently groaned. There was little to be gained from alienating potential allies, but Aylira wasn't going to back down. "What my friend here is trying to say, is that this could be a dangerous venture. In my experience, the largest of the group is usually the primary target." He jabbed a thumb at himself, demonstrating his point. "The greater the risk, the greater the reward earned, wouldn't you agree?"
     
    • Like Like x 6
  8. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

    Joined:
    Aug 12, 2017
    Messages:
    90
    Likes Received:
    229
    Reputation:
    55
    Draj Kir took a half step back, not seriously worried about an attack but wanting to show he had no ill intent towards the pair. "For there to be a reward, we must first complete our task, yes?" He flashed what he intended to be a disarming smile towards the dunmer. She was good looking, if small and with a dangerous air about her. He'd have to be careful around her.

    "It would be a mistake on your part to leave Draj Kir behind. I am a capable hunter, and you won't find a better ally this side of Skyrim." The last part probably wasn't so true, but there was nothing wrong with a bit of exaggeration on his part. He turned his attention to the argonian "yes, a greater reward, but I am sure there will be enough risk for every one involved. Enough for an even split. Or close to it."
     
    • Like Like x 5
  9. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

    Joined:
    Jan 11, 2013
    Messages:
    1,151
    Likes Received:
    1,289
    Reputation:
    301
    The wagon rumbled along the rocky road towards the city of Markarth, capital of the reach and one of the wealthiest cities in Skyrim, if the rumors she'd heard about the mines were true. Thinking back to the contract she'd read, it was no wonder the silver bloods wanted their mine cleared so quickly.

    The khajiit mercenary stood up and stretched, sore from the long ride on the sparcely padded bench. She dropped a pouch of coins beside the driver and hopped to the ground, her curved greatsword, Moonfang slung over one shoulder in its sheathe.

    The guards watched her. A few of the passing miners and farmers glanced at the small khajiit with the greatsword nearly as tall as she was. She was used to incredulous stares, especially when she happened to be among a group of larger warriors. That was fine by her, though. She was more than happy to let anyone else in her group attract the attention of the enemy while she carved them apart with her blade.

    That was ignoring the fact that only a fool ignored an opponent because she looked frail and small. It had been the last mistake many had made, and Kaliir was still standing. She pushed through the gates of the city, and looked around. Markarths' marketplace was crowded and loud, like any major city. It was a familiar sight, if not terribly welcome.

    But Markarth was where the contract had told her to go, and she'd been in worse places trying to make enough gold to survive. She contemplated finding the inn and waiting for others like her to arrive, but decided against it. The wagon ride to the city had been bumpy and long, and she had no intentions of increasing her discomfort.

    Instead, she found a quiet corner of the marketplace, and leaned into it, keen eyes taking in every detail, but drawing very little to herself. It was a skill she'd learned to be invaluable as a child, and something she drew on now. She wanted to be able to evaluate her potential companions before she became known to them.
     
    • Like Like x 5
  10. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

    Joined:
    Jun 10, 2012
    Messages:
    1,676
    Likes Received:
    1,290
    Reputation:
    425
    Merric Vasser did not make his way into the city the same way as most mercenaries, adventurers would; with their heads held high, and daring any to challenge them. That's not to say he slipped over the walls, or bribed a merchant to hide him among their goods. He simply walked through the gates, a cloak thrown over his shoulders, with a hood to conceal his face.

    It wasn't that he was a criminal- at least, he didn't think he was wanted for any crimes in Markarth. His vaguely remembered being in the city once before, many years ago, but there were still large gaps in his recollection. Remembering was hard, like pushing a cart filled with rocks up a hill. But he definitely remembered bits and peices of the city. The waterfall that roared down from the mountain, the bridges that stretched over the carved streams. Bronze everywhere.

    It was progress, and for that he was glad. He had never met the Silver Bloods, of that he was sure. Or at least he couldn't remember meeting them, but a few questions on his way to the city had told them all he needed to know. They owned most, if not all the mines in the Reach. The jarl allowed them free reign over the city and surroundings, so long as the family kept Cidna mine filled with prisoners turned workers. And that they commonly worked their miners to death, with little in the way of payment.

    If circumstances had been different, he would have been working against the influential family. But these disappearances were more troubling than the actions of a single family, however powerful. In wartime, both soldiers and civilians disappeared all the time. But the war had been over for five years now. And people didn't just up and leave their homes for the fun of it. Perhaps the Forsworn had something to do with it, and the Reach was as good a place to start investigating as any.
     
    • Like Like x 5
  11. IntrepidVenture

    Joined:
    Jun 24, 2019
    Messages:
    33
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    48
    Emeric had only barely left the presence of the arrogant and insufferable Thonar when he ran, or very nearly ran, into an unusual fellow. A little shorter than the warlock, but sturdily built, clearly no stranger to physical labor. But he could taste the tang of magic about the man. A pair of eyes stared out of an intricate mask, and his head tilted in an unspoken question. From what little he could see of the man, the breton assumed him to be an elf of some sort. Dunmer, perhaps. The armor he wore was unique, bronzed like the dwemer architecture around them. The elf glanced past him towards the door he'd only just departed from. "Hello there." He followed the gaze of the elf toward the doors again, "if you're here to speak with the Silver Bloods, I wouldn't waste my time. The man has little interest in seeing anyone until the mine is cleared of those Forsworn fellows." He stepped around the elf, and continued on several feet, before stopping and turning to adress the strangely armored man. "I imagine, if you are indeed here for the contract you would find like minded individuals at the inn."
     
    • Like Like x 6
  12. Rell

    Rell Champion of Malacath!

    Joined:
    Jun 3, 2018
    Messages:
    82
    Likes Received:
    185
    Reputation:
    22
    Balgur grunted as the cool breeze traced along his scarred face. Skyrim never really got hot, but marching in legion armor was a good way to warm up. His spear was leaned back against his right shoulder and loosely held in calloused fingers. His shield, a battered but well cared for peice of equipment, he had over his back, a sturdy strap keeping it in place. He paused on the bridge, enjoying the breeze off the water and taking the time to assess Markarths' defences. He'd been hired from time to time to advise on the fortifications in the Reach and other places that were known for bandit or forsworn trouble.

    There were certainly enough guards, and by the looks he was getting, they weren't being idle. Balgur guessed it was his imperial gear. The war had been over for five years, and that meant that legion symbols and equipment were a rare sight. By the glares some of the guards sent his way, not a very welcome one, either. Shrugging, he continued on his way to the gates, and was stopped by the pair of guards. "What do you want, orc?"

    "Legion doesn't belong in Skyrim. Not in Markarth either. Been living under a rock this whole time? Skyrim's for the nords."

    The orc narrowed his eyes and resisted the temptation of beating some sense into the man. "I retired from the legion. Years ago. Heard about some contract to clear out forsworn. Are you going to let me in, or not?"

    The two looked at each other and it was clear that they very much wanted to turn him away. But it was clear Balgur had seen his fair share of fighting, and for the jarl of Markarth to be summoning mercenaries from all over Skyrim, he had to be desperate. Finally, one of the guards turned his attention back to the orc. "Fine. Head on in, but we'll be watching you. No funny business." Balgur grunted his thanks before shoving his way inside. The noise and movement of marketplace was the first thing to greet him, but not the most interesting.

    A man in a long dark coat, complete with armor in strategic places, stood before him. A mercenary like himself, no doubt. The man wasn't with anyone else and seemed to be looking around, taking in his surroundings. "You there. Are you here because of this contract with the forsworn too?"
     
    • Like Like x 5
  13. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

    Joined:
    Jun 10, 2012
    Messages:
    1,676
    Likes Received:
    1,290
    Reputation:
    425
    A gruff voice, not inherently hostile but carrying a tone that suggested its owner was used to being obeyed. Merric turned, not entirely comfortable with exposing his back to the entirety of Markarth and whoever might have a grievance with him, but also unwilling to alienate a potential ally. The imperial found himself staring at an armour he had seen only sparingly in his travels. The armour of the imperial legion, more common in Cyrodiil than anywhere else these days. The orc wearing such armour was clearly no stranger to battle and hardship, scarred as he was. His question revealed that he too had heard of, or perhaps seen the contract that Markarth's wealthiest family had put out. The swordsman nodded, "I am indeed. It seems a worthy cause, even if the two of us are the only ones who have answered the call." He looked to a shadowed corner, where he could have sworn he saw movement only moments ago. "Though I somewhat doubt it."
     
    • Like Like x 5
  14. TheArgonianDrell

    TheArgonianDrell Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Sep 21, 2013
    Messages:
    156
    Likes Received:
    382
    Reputation:
    30
    "An even split, you say." Aylira glowered at the khajiit, not in the least impressed by his casual attempt to throw her off her guard. He wasn't bad looking, as khajiit went, but she was much more interested in being paid than she was in being bedded. "Who'd be the one doing the splitting? You?" She smirked and leaned forwards, "I'd rather take my chances with the forsworn on my own. We don't know you, and we don't trust you. You want someone to team up with, I suggest you look elsewhere." Out of the corner of her eye,she noticed a pair of elves enter the inn, both of them looking in their direction, before heading to a different corner of the room.
     
    • Like Like x 6
  15. Alty

    Alty Caw Caw

    Joined:
    Mar 31, 2018
    Messages:
    75
    Likes Received:
    102
    Reputation:
    57
    "Fih'grs," he hissed behind the pulsing core of the heart stone. The ass made a respectable amount of money, but it was not honest. Allo had extreme distaste for men not honest. The robes circled around him, held by a seemingly practical man. Practical, and therefore respectable, enough so to turn with the obvious suggestion of the inn. Allo held his tongue, forked with, 'And by your logic, a blind man can get his information from a bulletin board.'

    He simply nodded with mutual curtness, ebony thorns flashing their endless gold mazes. He adjusted his crimson mantle closer to his collar, and just as quickly did his hands retreat underneath the opaque linen. He hopped down the colorless steps as if he could survive on only his legs, balanced even as the pack under his gold-burdened dreads shuffled with facts and fiction. He walked with a determination that could easily be mistaken for arrogance. A goal to clear the Golden City's mine of filth. Not the coal that could stain his skin and look no different. Not the low-lifes, but a people that put filth in his mouth only for him to spew.

    If he had a voice, he would spew until he was mute from hoarseness over such an unsophisticated race. A people that overestimated themselves. They called themselves Forsworn. Certain rebels could be respected. These were not of those certain rebels. The Forsworn gnashed their teeth, but bleeted like sheep. They had nothing to honor, and what they were was not haughty.

    What they are is stupidity.

    He was a hypocrite. He busily elaborated the sad thoughts and busily did not watch the crowd that mostly moved around him with a wary drift. He lightly bumped into a brick in legionnaire steel, unconcerned about the soldier's height as his manners came whistling through, petty pride be damned.

    "Sr'rhy."

    He wasn't tired, but he wasn't socially energized. He did not stay to have his blind apology configured, making as casually as he could for the inn.
     
    • Like Like x 7
    #15 Alty, Jul 18, 2019
    Last edited: Jul 18, 2019
  16. The_Lost_Foxtrot

    The_Lost_Foxtrot Luwd uf Shoduws

    Joined:
    Jun 14, 2018
    Messages:
    251
    Likes Received:
    132
    Reputation:
    17
    Nagò sighed as he walked towards the massive gates leading into the city of Markarth, a cloak on and Hood up to conceal his features from anyone that was lookign for memebers of his Order, or whats left of it anyways. He was catious about entering the City of Stone as it once had rather active Thalmor patrols through the streets to root out any Talos Worship, and most likely still has agents opperating within the walls through the shadows, as he slipped by the gate guards and made his way through the city he noticed the beggars and amount of guards immediately.

    As the Khajiit Blade looked over his shoulder from time to time to make sure that he wasn't followed he nearly bumped into an Imperial and Orc in the Marketplace, "forgive this one" he mumbled quietly to the two armored men before walking past them and towards the silversmith at the main market, handing some Jewelry over for a few Septims since he was starting to run low on Money. He sighed in disappointment when he only received fifty six gold septims before he nodded his thanks and made his way towards the door of the inn, his Blades katana jutting out from his cloak as he placed a hand on the hilt while leaning against the Cold gray wall beside the entrance. He didn't feel like going in just yet and so decided to low for a moment longer, trying to look natural as he looked around for any threats.
     
    • Like Like x 7
  17. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

    Joined:
    Aug 12, 2017
    Messages:
    90
    Likes Received:
    229
    Reputation:
    55
    Draj Kir held his empty hands up in front of him, palm facing the pair. Clearly, they weren't interested in adding a third member to their party. "This one can take a hint. Draj Kir will be outside if you change your mind about this." He left the dimly lit inn, wondering if he would end up traveling with the difficult elf and large argonian in the end. There weren't any other mercenary contracts going around that he knew of. Perhaps they would not be working together, but competing against each other? An interesting thought, but not something completely impossible. Or improbable. Mercenaries could be a fickle bunch. Draj Kir would know, being one himself.

    He looked around as he left the silver blood inn, noting a katana wielding khajiit nearby, two armored men- an orc and a human, stood near the main gate. But Draj Kir was not particularly interesested in speaking to any of those three. The khajiits' keen eyes picked out a figure, female, with a sword nearly as large as she was, and clearly trying to avoid attention. Making sure he was seen approaching, he flashed the same disarming smile at her. "Good day. This one wonders what a creature as fine as you would be doing lurking in the shadows?"
     
    • Like Like x 6
  18. Drahkma

    Drahkma Dashing Imperial Officer.

    Joined:
    Jan 6, 2013
    Messages:
    790
    Likes Received:
    906
    Reputation:
    297
    Markarth may have been the city of Stone, but there was blood enough to keep one satisfied...well for an eternity, it seemed. Though the dunmer had only been in the capital of the Reach for a couple of days, he'd come to like the place. As much as he could like anything anymore. Vorhael was not quite ancient for a vampire...he doubted he would even qualify as old. But he had seen much in the few decades he had been a creature of the night, and little surprised him. But, he mused as he tore his fangs from the throat of his latest kill, things could still intrigue him.

    Like this contract that had sprung from the city. Forsworn were not much of a challenge, at least not to one with his unnatural speed and strength. Perhaps when he'd been mortal, a mere scheming nobleman of Morrowwind, he would have shied away. But now, his interest was piqued, and he thirsted for the blood of the hillmen. He had no grudge against them, but he needed to feed, and he'd heard the guard asking questions about several corpses discovered in the slums near Cidna mine. Corpses drained of blood.

    Remaining in the city would be a mistake, and Vorhael had no desire to summon the Dawnguard, or any other would be vampire hunters down on him. He had not survived so long by being foolish, and some features of his old life had followed him into undeath. His cunning for example. He knew that no single warrior would attempt to oust the Forsworn. They would congregate like all cattle did, before heading into the hills to do battle. And Vorhael would join them, a wolf among sheep. Should they be succesful, he would be hailed a hero. Above suspicion and free to do as he'd like.

    With that in mind, he made his way to the main market, scowling up at the sun and wishing for an overcast day. His keen eyes noted several outstanding figures, in various gear, in the marketplace and near the inn. It appeared the adventurers and sellswords had already made their way to the city. Now all the vampire had to do was wait for the proper time to make his appearance and join with them before they left Markarth in their quest to clear out the captured mine.
     
    • Like Like x 4
  19. Rell

    Rell Champion of Malacath!

    Joined:
    Jun 3, 2018
    Messages:
    82
    Likes Received:
    185
    Reputation:
    22
    "You're probably right" Balgur said, a moment before someone bumped into his armored shoulder. The old soldier scowled at the offending party; a furtive looking khajiit with an exotic weapon on his hip. He turned to the imperial, but the man didn't seem too interested in the newcomer. "Excuse me." He mumbled, and crossed the market over to the khajiit, who was keeping a close eye on the civilians and guards in the area. As if he was a fugitive expecting trouble at any moment. Balgur wondered about the best course of action. On one hand, he could notify the guard- if the khajiit was in fact a trouble maker, it would be best to get him dealt with before he tried something. But on the other, he might be innocent, and nervous about something else. Something that had nothing to do with Markarth or the contract. With a mental shrug, Balgur walked over to the khajiit, making sure to keep an eye on the sheathed blade. "If you are trying to keep a low profile, you're doing a bad job of it. Are you here for the contract, or are you here to cause trouble?"
     
    • Like Like x 7
  20. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

    Joined:
    Jan 11, 2013
    Messages:
    1,151
    Likes Received:
    1,289
    Reputation:
    301
    The words shook Kaliir out of the stupor she'd sunk into, and immediately set her on guard. A quick glance at the khajiit that'd spoken to her revealed that he was well armed and armoured. She cursed herself for allowing him to sneak up on her. With that much gear on, she should have heard him across the marketplace. It quickly became clear from his grin that he wasn't hostile. At least, not as much as most she'd met on the roads and in other cities. It was fairly obvious he was a mercenary of some sort, which meant he was here for the same contract she had heard of. As for his question..."the same thing you are doing, I expect. But without alerting every forsworn in the reach that I'm coming." Unlike the other one, she didn't refer to herself in third person. But her voice still contained a predatory rasp.
     
    • Like Like x 5

Share This Page

  • Like us on Facebook