Private The Grand Adventure (IC)

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    Envii

    Member
    The thick grey clouds over the forest swirled and danced as the winds that accompanied the harsh rains tossed them around. The sky above Falkreath forest was consumed in a violent spectacle of nature. Sheet after sheet of icy ran pounded the leaves and trees below. And in this forest, Lower than these trees, lower even than the shrubbery. Was Freyr, on hands and knees, every muscle of his body taut. Freyr held himself suspended inches above the mud, eyes focused on the family of deer that took cover 50 yards away in a shallow cave set against the hillside. The rain Beat down on Freyr as he inched his way close and closer towards his target. For the past two months Freyr had been having a hard time finding game in the forest and times were getting desperate.

    Bringing down a fully grown elk would completely turn his life around for the next few weeks. The thought of warm food in his belly drove him through the pounding rain as he inched closer to his prey. As he drew within firing distance He brought the thick bowstring out of his pack. He notched and strung his bow and drew two arrows from his pack as well. Notching his first arrow Freyr rose to his knees and took careful aim. When suddenly a cave bear, hiding in the deeper recesses of the cave, came lunging out scattering the herd of deer. Freyr immediately dropped his body into the mud and began to crawl backwards hoping that the bear would not come in his direction. As he got far enough away he stood up and began to run, picking up speed as he weaved his way softly through the pines.

    Freyr knew this forest well and he skipped quickly over the landscape. Crossing over hills and valleys Freyr quickly arrived at the top of the hill over looking the sleepy town of Falkreath. Freyr's Hut resided on the eastern most edge of town and was set in the trees surrounding the village. As he skipped quickly down the hill he ducked his head against the rain. Splashing up the main road which had since turned to mud, Freyr jumped onto the wooden planks in front of the inn where the where a wooden overhang had been built to provide protection from the rain. finally finding a dry spot Freyr Leaned against the wall of the tavern and let his mind winder as he took off his soggy boots...."They should be arriving any day now!" he thought excitedly to himself. Four men had answered his call for a traveling party. Freyr had received word by courier just a week ago. Which means that the men could not be far behind. Freyr sighed as he thought about finally leaving Falkreath and making a life for himself out in Skyrim. The sounds of the rain drops began to lull Freyr into a doze as he pondered over his the letters from his new partners. what would they be like, How would they get along together when the harshness of the journey weighed upon them...and would they all survive it...and with that Freyr's eyes shut for good and he was sound asleep.


    Photo Album - Imgur
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    The rain was beating down on Elsa's small frame as she wandered tiredly down the road. She'd made it this far, having passed through the gateway to Cyrodiil just a few days before. Pulling her cloak tighter around herself she wiped away at the raindrops that clung to sooty lashes, obscuring her vision. The sign a while back had said this was the right direction, but she'd been walking for so long she was starting to fear that she'd made an error. Fearful of the rain soiling her map she trudged on, mud splashing at her ankles, wind whipping the tail of her cloak around her shins.

    The sign for a travelling party had been exactly what Elsa had been looking for. She was a virgin to this harsh and unforgiving land, the same land her father had once called home. Young and in search of adventure and wealth the caravan had offered the perfect opportunity to learn her way around Skyrim, hopefully making good contacts while she was there. With the added protection of a group there was less chance of her being brutally torn to pieces by a frost troll, or finding herself starving on some uncharted precipice.

    Still walking with nothing but her thoughts for company Elsa stopped in the middle of the road. She was certain she'd taken the wrong turning somewhere, and the woods were the last place she wanted to find herself stranded in. Gasping back a childish sob she blinked the rain from her eyes, willing her frustration not to overwhelm her. She had chosen to travel after all. This was hardly the worst thing to happen to her. If she turned back now she'd be no closer to a town than if she kept walking. Sighing she ignored the protests of her aching feet and quickened her pace, almost breaking into a run as a laugh bubbled up from her throat. There it was, the town entrance. Two guards looking as miserable as she felt were stood out front, and never had Elsa been so glad to see them. With renewed vigour and spirit Elsa continued on, glad to have finally made it to Falkreath. Now to find the tavern where she was supposed to report to Freyr. Wandering about she wondered just how she was to know Freyr when she saw him. Just as she began to let her doubts take root she spotted the tavern sign and hurried to the shelter provided by the overhanging porch. Removing her hood she did her best to resemble something presentable, pulling the invitation she had taken from the confines of her bodice. Unfolding it she quickly scanned the note to see if it provided any further instruction but to no avail. Only then when she looked up did she notice a nord asleep on a chair.

    Looking around she walked over hesitantly. "Excuse me...excuse me?" Tapping the man on his shoulder she chewed her lip, wondering if waking a sleeping man was the best choice. It certainly wasn't the best one she'd made that day. Tapping him again she raised her voice over the rumble of the rain that fell against the roof. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a man called Freyr. Do you know where to find him?" Stepping back she clutched onto the note tightly with one gloved hand, the other crossing over her body in an attempt to stay warm as the chill from the rain soaked through to her skin.
     

    Rextoret

    top kek
    Sorex marched solemnly through the pouring rain as he held a small piece of paper under the his hood. He was reading about a man named Freyr, who was looking for traveling companions. Sorex knew that traveling in a group proved in his favor as it would increase his chances of survival in this hostile land. Not to mention all the gold that would follow the adventure. Sorex grinned widely under his hood. "Gold. Makes the world go around." He told himself. His boots trudged up mud as he traveled down the long road to Falkreath. He had spent days walking from Riften to Falkreath. He just hoped that whatever would come out of this "journey" that this Freyr man mentioned would be worth all of this trouble. Hopefully it would take him new places as well, seeing as he had not explored much of Skyrim beyond the Rift.

    As he approached the dripping town of Falkreath, he pondered what the outcome of this caravan would be. He loved to travel and explore, but he had never done it with anyone else. How could he trust this Freyr man either? Or all the companions that would be on the journey? He knew however, that adventure, exploration and riches were all things he wanted. So he decided to take the risk.

    When he reached the gate of Falkreath, he heard the two dead-tired guards talking. "Lot of travelers tonight, Borjoun. Wonder if something happened?" Sorex fought his instinct to tell the guards where he was going, knowing as it would not bring anything other that trouble. He ignored the guards' gaze as he passed under the gate into Falkreath. He knew he was looking for Freyr, but he did not know where he was. So he headed to the tavern for a drink and saw a young Nord girl waking a man who was sitting against the tavern wall. As he approached them he called out saying, "Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a man named Freyr?"
     

    Gentleman Adventurer

    A True Gentleman
    Relyn Telvayn was very, very upset. First I have to trek my way all the way up to Skyrim from Cyrodiil, and now it's pouring rain and I haven't even got a hood. Brilliant. He trudged through the mud, keeping the collar of his robes turned up. I hope this "adventuring party" turns out to be worth it, he thought bitterly. Ah! Here we are!

    He pushed open the gate to Falkreath, and was greeted by an even drearier sight than the forests, if that was even possible. Citizens scurried about like mice, trying to shield their crops and livestock from the storm. Guards stood, solemn and depressed, moving only to relight their torches. "Skyrim! Home, sweet home!" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and several Nords shot Relyn dirty looks. "Bunch of lousy Nordic s'wits..." He muttered to himself. He kept walking along at his slow pace, periodically making an insulting remark or two, until he came to a tavern. He saw a girl trying to wake a sleeping man, and another man walking up to her. "Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a man named Freyr?" He asked the girl. Relyn piped up. "Oh ho! You must be one of the caravan! Pleased to meet you, I'm Relyn Telvayn, Master of the Great House Telvanni. I myself am quite interested in finding our enigmatic leader. Now, do you know where he is, Miss?"
     

    Farthlion

    I swear to drunk, I'm not Talos.
    Farthlion hated the rain. It was always terribly cold weather, horrible for writing and reading outside. He could admit it did make a good subject for dreary and dark poems and stories, but weather was the only thing a bard could not change about the mood of a place.

    He had never been much for traveling either. After his journey from Dragonstar to Solitude, he never ventured far from the capital city. It wasn't the preferred life for a bard - only a select few felt the need to endanger themselves and tell their stories, sing their songs, and explore life on the road. Farthlion had grown tired of the stationary bard's life, and was elated when he received a message around a week ago to join a man named Freyr and several others on a journey.

    The bard had immediately packed his most important things, said goodbye to his friends, and set off toward Falkreath. Now, about a week later, he had arrived - and yet had no idea where to begin. As a bard first and a warrior second, Farthlion's first instinct was to check out the tavern. If the innkeeper had no knowledge of his party, he would certainly be able to enjoy the company of a fellow bard - perhaps even sharing some stories and songs. The towering Redguard's boots splashed in the mud, the rain falling hard on his face reminding him that the stubble needed to be trimmed when he could get the chance.

    He was delighted to see that it was a nicely maintained building. He stepped under the wooden overhang, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of some kind of roof over his head. Farthlion was about to open the tavern's wooden door without another thought when he noticed a woman and three men. As the name Freyr was mentioned, Farthlion smiled softly and walked over to the group. "Freyr you say? Looks like we came here for the same thing, friend!"
     

    Envii

    Member
    Freyr started at the woman's touch and slipped down the wall onto his elbow. he opened his eyes blearily and peered upwards at the collection of strangers looking down at him quizzically. "erm...yes! Yes *cough* Im Freyr" He said his voice going confidence as his mind grasped the situation. "If you all are my traveling party, Talos must indeed be watching our journey!" He laughed to himself. "Imagine everyone arriving right on time!" A silence followed his words and Freyr quickly grasped for his wooden pipe and took a casual puff. His eyes traveled over the group in front him, studying each member.

    He chuckled slightly to himself as his eyes landed on the small girl who had shook his arm. He had not expected a woman to join in the journey. As far as he was concerned the wilderness was no place for a girl and the harshness of the wilds would soon get to her. "Sure you havent wandered too far from home girl" he asked her with a smile and a jaunty wink of his forest green eye.

    He Glanced approvingly at the imperial and the redguard, they looked like strong sturdy men. Capable of survival and exactly the type of men Freyr would want at his side. they looked back at him with resolve set in their eyes and Freyr knew they were prepared for what lay ahead.

    The elf however....Freyr did not much care for Dunmer...or Bosmer as it were. In his opinion Skyrim was the home of the Nords. Freyr didnt much care for magic and believed its power to be unnatural. he would have to keep his eye on this character that was for sure...

    "As they stared at ech other sizing each other up, Freyr suddenly realized the state he was in. His fur Hunters clothes were soaked through and he had not washed himself for several days now. Dirt caked his face and body and his hair was a matted mess of dirt and filth.

    "Shall we warm ourselves by the fire and discuss the start of our journey?" asked Freyr gesturing to the door of the tavern
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    As more and more people had gathered on the porch asking after Freyr, Elsa mentally begged the nord to wake so that she could get some answers. Feeling very small in comparison to the rest of the company the young girl straightened up to her full height, a steely look of determination in her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd felt the instinct to hold her ground and prove herself but she'd learnt by now that playing the waiting game was safer. So long as she kept her tongue in check and did her best not to offend anyone she figured she'd be alright.

    Looking to the men who had approached she automatically sized them up, years of living rough forcing the habit. In close quarters she was hideously outmatched, but given enough room to work she was certain she would be able to handle herself. Gesturing to the sleeping nord behind her Elsa offered the only explanation she could muster. "Can't say, although I'm looking for him myself. I thought if anyone had seen him this man here would know but he's ah...currently indisposed." Her Cyrodiil accent stood out harshly against the many nord voices around the tavern and she mentally cringed. She disliked feeling so vulnerable in a foreign land like this.

    As Freyr awoke and introduced himself she chewed her lip in thought. He was truly a sight to see, covered head to toe in mud and whatever else. Truly a man of the land. At his comment however she felt herself bristle with irritation, used to comments of that sort but still annoyed by them. Despite his wink and joking tone Elsa folded her arms and simply raised an eyebrow. She wished to respond with some comment to prove that she had in fact wandered far enough to be taken seriously, but she feared she would appear as nothing more than a petulant child in front of the men. No. Rather stay silent and gather information than make a fool of herself. Following the nord inside the tavern Elsa wasted no time in removing the sodden cloak from around her shoulders, hoping the heat from the central heart would help to dry out the woollen material as they spoke.
     

    Rextoret

    top kek
    As Sorex walked into the tavern, he wiped his boots on the wood to relieve them them of their huge supply of mud. He removed the dripping hood from his head and pushed his long dark blond hair out of his eyes. He chuckled a bit as he saw the patrons of the tavern watch as this rag-tag group of adventurers entered the inn, covered in water and mud. He followed Freyr and the Nord girl to a table next to the fire. As he sat down on the wooden bench, his hair once again fell into his eyes. He pushed it back again, laughed and said, "I really need a haircut." He could feel the heat from the fire and the joyous feeling hanging in the air of the tavern. He always felt safe in a tavern and far more laid back.
     

    Gentleman Adventurer

    A True Gentleman
    Relyn stepped inside the building, his robes still sopping wet. He grabbed a passing barmaid. "A glass of your finest wine, please. And do hurry, you don't want to see me get upset." Trailing behind the hunter, the girl, and the Imperial, he pulled up a chair near the fireplace, and looked around. Hmph. Yet another hive of nothing but rebels and bandits. These blasted Nords are already getting on my nerves, and I've barely been back five minutes.

    The barmaid came over again, holding his wine in her hand. He levitated the drink over and took a sip. "Firebrand wine, how exquisite! Thank you, dear. You may go." He said, in a rather pretentious tone. The wine's good, at least. Glad to see the Nords are starting to do some things right. He turned back towards his comrades, and listened to the conversation.
     

    Farthlion

    I swear to drunk, I'm not Talos.
    Farthlion laughed deeply, his grin becoming even wider as Freyr stood. As the man got up, he could see that a blanket of dirt covered him. That would be a fine story to tell - a nord who could pass for a Redguard because his skin was so covered.

    The bard followed the others into the Tavern. He couldn't wait to be dry and warm - but mostly dry. He was soaking wet and could use a cup of ale to relax after his trek across Skyrim. His companions were a Dunmer, an Imperial, and two nords. He may have guessed the woman was an Imperial as well with her accent, but she had unmistakable visual characteristics of a Nord.

    Farthlion had a good 5 inches on the tallest of the other 4. His size was a nice advantage when it came to journeys like this. He made bandits think twice before attacking. Though, if they did make an advance the Redguard would mostly run away instead of fight. Bards write the stories, he always told himself. They don't make them.

    He sat down next to Sorex, taking up a large amount of space on the bench of the table.

    "I really need a haircut," Farth heard the Imperial laugh. Farthlion smiled and laughed as well, noting the long hair that was in front of the man's eyes. It must have been impossible to see like that. He asked a passing worker for a pint of mead as she passed and watched the tavern's bard play songs.

    Farthlion looked at his company and extended a hand, not sure who would shake it, but hope it would at least be someone. His calloused palm was visible and friendly, the amount of smithing he did was clearly evident. "I'm Farthlion, bard from Solitude - but I can wield a sword pretty well."

    It was a bard's trick. A hand shake says a lot based on if you decline, accept, or hesitate before shaking hands. He hoped that he would be accepted and that they would enjoy his company as much as he was sure he would enjoy theirs. He wondered if the Dunmer liked music and if the Nords were interested in Hammerfell stories. There was much to share, and as a bard it was important to do so!
     

    The OP3RaT0R

    Call me Op. Or Smooth.
    Tacitus began to gather his things together as the carriage he was aboard was pulling up to the gate of Falkreath. Damned Skyrim weather, he thought as he pulled his red hood forward on his head, the women and wine had better be good. I'll be most eager to forget this journey. The carriage driver had wanted to make conversation for half the trip, and couldn't seem to take a hint that Tacitus did not want to talk; the freezing rain which had been pelting him for the last few hours was beginning to saturate the leather of his robes; and the obnoxious driver had also managed to drive away a pretty blonde Breton at Morthal. I would've had a chance with her, too, if only I would've actually had time to tell her about myself and slide a bit closer on this seat!

    No matter, we're about there, Tacitus thought with a sigh of relief. As he dismounted, he spotted a group of weather-worn individuals standing around an even more weather-worn Nord, and he thought that they must be the travelling party he had heard about at the Winking Skeever. A young Nord woman stuck out from the men who were milling about, and Tacitus sent one of his quite rare prayers to Akatosh - that, as he put it when he prayed for a woman, 'This woman's eyes would be opened to my many charms which, of course, you have blessed me with.' The apparent leader beckoned the group into the tavern, and Tacitus set off to meet them inside. Near the tavern door, a Nord woman wearing too much makeup around her eyes remarked, "Shor's bones! A handsome man in Falkreath!" The Imperial smiled sweetly and gave the woman a wink. She was not this town's prize, but she could do well as a bit of entertainment.

    The group had taken positions near the hearth. Tacitus approached slowly, pulling back his hood and running his fingers through his damp hair, moving a bang to the side and fixing his eyes on the whites of those belonging to the Nord woman, who could now be seen more clearly in the fire's light. She, Tacitus thought with a vulgar smile, is the prize of the town.

    Tacitus slipped the note out of his pocket quickly, to glance at the name it bore - Freyr. He stuffed it away, took a step forward and spoke: "Is this the travelling party I have been hearing about," Tacitus eloquently enunciated each word with his royal-sounding Imperial accent, and looking at the man who had led the others inside, said "and are you Freyr?"
     

    Envii

    Member
    Freyr sat down by the fire and chewed on the end of his pipe as the group filed in around him. Wisps of smoke snaked their way up from his pipe and settled around his head giving his features a hazy dangerous look. He remained silent as the various potential members of the party sat down around him, obviously sizing one another up.

    "Welcome" Said Freyr darkly once everyone had sat down and shifted their attention onto the weather worn hunter. "I hope every one of you is prepared for the danger that lies ahead" He said in a dead serious tone as his green eyes traveled from person to person. "this expedition...and Skyrim herself..are nothing to joke about, the cold landscape will kill you faster than any blade if you are not prepared."

    A silence hung in the air following his words and he quickly pulled a map from out of his rain soaked pack. He laid the map down on the table and smoothed out the edges letting his companions take in what they were seeing. It was Freyr's old hunting map. It was made of well worn parchment that was rain damaged and lightly torn in many places. Scribbled across it were notes about the movement of herds of deer and the ideal places to get freshwater. The details were high in the area around Falkreath but become less and less frequent in other areas of the map. However, a clear line was drawn on the map outlining the path of the journey.

    Freyr jabbed his finger down on the mark that represented Falkreath " We will begin here in Falkreath and make east towards Helgen." "from there will pass through river wood and then make our way North through the tundra towards winter hold." As he spoke he traced the path with his finger and then leaned back to take a puff of his pipe.

    His thought drifted once again.. to her..Aela. She had been taken from him and forced to enroll in the college of Winterhold. emotion crossed his face as the thought of his love crossed his mind. He quickly steeled himself and looked around at the strangers. " If anyone is not ready to face the cold, now is the time to leave." He said gravely.

    At that moment a man entered the tavern and immediately and obviously began sizing up all the fair women of the tavern. His eyes lingered especially long on the young girl that sat quitely listening to Freyr's plan. "Disgusting" thought Freyr as he watched the man. "Only an imperial would have such filth on his mind at a time like this" as he watched the man made his way over to their table and spoke out loudly interupting the conversation

    "Is this the travelling party I have been hearing about,"

    asked the man rudely

    "and are you Freyr?"

    Anger immediately shot through Freyr at the mans impudence. with one swift motion he raised his hand from below the table drawing the dagger from his belt and plunging it down into the table while never breaking eye contact with the man.

    "And what if I am Imperial?" he spat. "What does a man like you want with our company?"

     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    "I really need a haircut."

    Smiling to herself Elsa couldn't help but agree. Shaking her head as the man battled, and lost, to his fringe Elsa began to relax minutely, settling into her seat. With her cloak now hanging over the back to dry, the chill from her skin was leaving, replaced by the encompassing warmth of the tavern. Wringing out the end of her braid in a futile attempt to let it dry Elsa returned her attention to the group. The redguard, Farthlion as he called himself, had offered his hand to them by way of introduction. Drying her glove on her leathers she returned with firm and strong grip. "Elsa. I'm no good with a sword but I've been told my bow skills are pretty damn good." Offering a truly genuine smile she leant back in her seat, her mind racing. The stories he must know, the tales of this land and others. Elsa hoped that he wouldn't mind spinning a story or to for her on their journey. There was still so much about Skyrim she had to learn, surely a bard would only aid her in her discoveries.

    Her forest green eyes returned to Freyr however as he began to explain himself and his proposition. She listened closely and intently, her sharp eyes picking out as much information from his map as she could. Thinking to her own relatively empty map she bit her lip. Perhaps Freyr would be kind enough to let her compare, though she knew this journey was likely to fill it up easily, without the Nord's assistance.

    The door swung open, and out of both curiosity and habit Elsa turned to size up the newcomer. Catching his eye Elsa frowned. She recognised that expression. Feeling like nothing more than some kind of prize being measured she folded her arms with barely contained irritation. She did however spot the glint of gold at his chest. Perhaps she would have time to remove it form his ownership later on. She would be able to get a good price for it no doubt. However any plans for theft was halted as he approached the small group, addressing Freyr in a way that clearly irked the nord.

    Unable to stop herself flinching at the sudden display of aggression Elsa did her best to remain quiet and still. It wouldn't say much about these men if they were already coming to blows before having even passed through Falkreath. Spotting the tense quiet in the room as all eyes went to Freyr's blade Elsa spoke up. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to put the knife away. I don't know what this man has done wrong but I'm sure you can work it out later...maybe when there aren't people who will happily go to the guards if this gets too loud?"
     

    Rextoret

    top kek
    As this rude Imperial entered the tavern, Sorex grimly stared him down. He was the kind of person that made Imperials seem "the bad guys." As the man spoke of his intent to join the caravan, Sorex flared with anger. "Why you little..." He said under his breath. Freyr stabbed the knife into the table. The way the man looked at the nord girl made Sorex even more angry. This would not end up good for the Imperial unless something happened soon to calm Sorex. Sorex was about to reach down for the dagger in his boot when Elsa said, "Perhaps it would be a good idea to put the knife away. I don't know what this man has done wrong but I'm sure you can work it out later... maybe when there aren't people who will happily go to the guards if this gets too loud?" Sorex calmed a bit at the girl's reassuring voice. His hand stopped reaching for dagger and he stood up. He knew this was a bold move but he reached his hand out toward the man. "I am Sorex. 'Pleased' to meet you." Said Sorex with a large bit of sarcasm and hate in his voice.
     

    Gentleman Adventurer

    A True Gentleman
    Relyn had barely taken another sip of his drink when the Imperial man walked into the tavern. Watching him look over it's inhabitants, lust evident on his face, the Dunmer scowled. Confident walk, stench of arrogance and greed. In the name of Mora, it's another damned party member.

    Sure enough, the newcomer strode over to Freyr's group. "Is this the travelling party I have been hearing about," He asked, his stuffy Cyrodiil accent quite evident. "And are you Freyr?" The words seemed to infuriate Freyr, for whatever reason. The hunter drew a knife, and plunged it into the table knocking over Relyn's drink in the process. "Hey, watch it there! I paid damn good money for that wine and- No one's paying even the slightest bit of attention to me are they?"

    The lack of response from his new teammates seemed to confirm his thoughts. Slumping down in his chair, he watched as the girl, Elsa she said her name was, tried to get Freyr to put the knife away. She appeared to have succeeded, as the others didn't draw any weapons. The first Imperial stuck his hand out and spoke to the troublemaker. "I am Sorex. 'Pleased' to meet you." Relyn rolled his eyes at Sorex's overly sarcastic tone. Would you look at that, more of the famed Imperial subtlety. Looking around, Relyn realized no one was talking. It was an opportunity, and he was going to take it.

    He stood up dramatically, and bowed. "Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Master Relyn Telvayn of the Great House Telvanni. I'm sure you're all stunned to be meeting me right now, and let me assure you that I'm just as amazing as you've heard." The adventurers did not look amused. Relyn sat down, sulking. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.
     

    Farthlion

    I swear to drunk, I'm not Talos.
    Farthlion smiled widely as the woman, Elsa, took his hand and shook it. If his years of shaking travelers' hands reigned true, she seemed to be a friendly person who may be interested in a story or two. The woman who he had requested mead from had now returned with a pint, and he thanked her gratefully, handing her several coins as payment.

    He then listened quietly as Freyr motioned to his map and explained where they would be heading. Farth shivered at the thought of the snowy conditions he would have to possibly endure on this journey. In Hammerfell it was blazing hot during the day, but it could freeze overnight. Nights spent warming himself by the forge were his fondest memories of home, but he had to admit that he did enjoy the heat of the day. He hadn't met a Redguard who preferred the cold over the heat, and he had met quite a few of them as they stopped by in Solitude.

    As Farthlion became lost in his thoughts of home, he suddenly noticed that a tenseness grew in the room. Freyr had drawn his knife and embedded it into the table. The nord's eyes rested on a new man, an Imperial by his looks. The Dark Elf's drink was now knocked over, its contents running wildly out of the cup. How he had not noticed whatever happened between the two, he did not know - as a bard he learned to be watchful of everyone in the room and pick up even the most meticulous details. It was apparent something had happened between Freyr and this man - perhaps they knew each other?

    Before the Redguard had a moment to help cool down the two men (as it was one of his priorities... he was a bard after all, a master negotiator), Elsa defused the situation with ease. Freyr's knife was put away and the other Imperial was already standing up and introducing himself to the newcomer. Farth did not miss the sarcasm in his voice however, and frowned at his action. Yes, he had obviously missed something while day-dreaming of Hammerfell.

    The large bard remained silent as time seemed to slow - an awkward pause among the 6 travelers filled the room. Suddenly, the Dark Elf, the last person he would have thought to break the silence spoke, "Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Master Relyn Telvayn of the Great House Telvanni. I'm sure you're all stunned to be meeting me right now, and let me assure you that I'm just as amazing as you've heard."

    Farth could barely contain his laughter. After seeing the Dark Elf sink into his seat looking less than happy, he realized he probably should have laughed. He had not met many, but from his experience Dark Elves were quite hard to read. You never knew when they were talking in a friendly manner or were angry. They seemed to have a dark tone attributed to them. As a bard, it made Farth's job quite difficult.


    He suddenly heard Freyr's angry reply and cringed, a frown crossing his features for a split second before he turned to the leader of the group. "Freyr... please," Farth said calmly, taking a deep breath and giving him a calm, but serious look. Now was not the time for arguing - they had a journey to embark on. They would settle their differences later.

    "I hope this is all of us - this group is getting quite full," the bard smiled and took a sip of his mead, "Please sit down my friend. Men after a long trip could always use time to sit down and enjoy a pint or two. Freyr, the one you were looking for, was just getting to the important details of our journey." Farthlion motioned with a large hand for the new Imperial to sit down in an open spot next to him. He wasn't sure why everyone seemed to dislike this newcomer, but he had learned to never judge someone until he got to know them. Not everyone was outgoing and friendly at a first impression.

    "What brings all of you to this journey?" Farth questioned, attempting to break any remaining tension in the group with a subtle conversation. Though, he was truly interested in their reasons for accepting Freyr's call.
     

    The OP3RaT0R

    Call me Op. Or Smooth.
    "And what if I am, Imperial? And what does a man like you want with our company?"

    Tacitus knew that this must be Freyr. He was a bit annoyed at the remark about his character, but he would not deny that it was probably justified. He answered, "Ah yes, you're one of those 'Skyrim for the Nords' types." He knew that probably wasn't the only reason this man Freyr disliked him immediately, but it mattered little. He went on, "What do I want? Why, simply a group of people such as yourselves who can watch my back, and in return I'll watch yours." The pretty Nord woman chimed in, "Perhaps it would be a good idea to put the knife away. I don't know what this man has done wrong but I'm sure you can work it out later...maybe when there aren't people who will happily go to the guards if this gets too loud?"

    "Oh, I have no intent to fight. On the contrary, actually." Tacitus had had his chance to size up Freyr when the Nord drove his dagger into the wooden table, and he knew if the two fought, he would be running or unconscious quickly, and he did not want that to happen. Especially in front of the woman. Just then, another Imperial stood up and offered his hand - Tacitus noted that the man was suspiciously slow to stand, and seemed too tense. If anyone would decide to throw a punch his way, he decided it would sooner be this man than Freyr. "I am Sorex. 'Pleased' to meet you." Tacitus shook the fellow's hand briefly, replying, "Tacitus Axianus. A pleasure."

    It occurred to Tacitus that there was a Dunmer sitting nearby and causing a small uproar over his drink, which Freyr had spilled. The elf soon turned from the dripping table to Tacitus, and said "Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Master Relyn Telvayn of the Great House Telvanni. I'm sure you're all stunned to be meeting me right now, and let me assure you that I'm just as amazing as you've heard."

    After the elf's brash introduction, there was a long pause before Tacitus chimed in, "Telvanni, eh? Why not conjure yourself a new drink?" He gave a small chuckle at his joke, then went on, "In all seriousness, I look forward to seeing what your elven magic can do. Barmaid," he called over his shoulder, "get our friend from House Telvanni an bottle of wine. I'll have a bottle of wine too, thank you." He wasn't sure if he had bought the elf a new drink as a gesture of goodwill or to get him to shut up; both were plausible.

    Then the huge Redguard spoke up, first to try and calm Freyr, then making mention of the size of the group and the journey's destination. "Men after a long trip could always use time to sit down and enjoy a pint or two." This man was much kinder than the others - something that surprised Tacitus, given the fellow's size. He beckoned Tacitus to take a seat, then asked why everyone was there.

    "Well, I have been around Western Tamriel, in search of good times and..." Tacitus wavered for a moment while he chose his words, being mindful of the reaction he would likely get from Freyr if he wasn't careful, then continued, "er, companions, for some time now. This is my first time in Skyrim. I thought it would be smart to not wander about alone." As he finished speaking, the barmaid walked toward the group and stopped a few steps away from Tacitus, who looked back and noticed her with the wine he'd ordered on a tray. He reached back and grabbed the bottles, setting one on a table near the chair where he sat, and offering the other to the elf, Relyn. He then removed the cost of the drinks from his pocket and placed them in the hand of the waitress, along with a conspicuous extra few coins and a wink.
     

    Envii

    Member
    The rush of anger that had come over Freyr faded quickly as the small girl that he had over looked earlier placed her small but strong hand on his arm. At the same time the enormous Redguard gave him a fatherly and serious look. The disapproving stare of the Bard and the soft grace of the girl were enough to make Freyr's face flush with embarrassment. He knew that he had over reacted, and he quickly sheathed his blade. "This is why things never go your way Freyr!" he thought to himself.

    Freyr had never liked imperials, he had grown up a thief and a beggar and The imperials had seemed like the ones with the boot on his shoulder. Still simply being an Imperial was not enough to bring out such an outburst in him. Growing up with nothing, Freyr was disgusted with those who had everything. This man clearly did not know the hardships of life, He has slept with his head on a pillow his whole life. As he watched the two Imperials shake hands and then then slip into their seats he felt a momentary surge of anger flare up again but silenced it this time.

    As the rest of the group made conversation about their reasons for being here Freyr took a few drags on his pipe and let the conversation wash over him. He let the conversation proceed this way for a quarter of an hour before he finally sat up straight in his chair. Using his thumb he extinguished the smoldering herb in the end of his pipe and raised his green eyes to the group. "If you are with us, we will leave Falkreath in three days time" He said out loud. " This damn storm will not have cleared out until then" he said gesturing to the smoky tavern ceiling as a clap of thunder boomed over head. "Make sure you are prepared for the journey ahead." he said gravely " We cannot afford stragglers in our company."




    As his Words settled over the table Freyr pushed himself back from the table and rose quickly to his feet. His Ragged hunters clothes sqeaked and groaned as he moved. His agile stride carried him quickly to the doorway. "I will meet you all here in three days time. Bring only what you can carry and be ready to travel." and with that he turned on was gone in a whirling of his cloak and a flash of green eyes under a brimmed hood
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    Elsa could hardly believe the tension brought on by this imperial turning up. This was the problem with prideful men, always quick to compare the size of their sword. Even Sorex with his introduction, was clear in his distaste for the Imperial.

    "Tacitus Axianus. A pleasure."

    Wide eyes shot to the newcomer. Opening and closing her mouth as if to speak Elsa tried desperately to find the words. The Axianus family were well known within the Imperial City Walls. To think that the son of such a noble family would be here of all places. As a young girl Elsa had heard plenty of stories about the young Tacitus, more so had been warned to stay away unless she planned to have her virtue stolen. Even more disconcerting was the dunmer. Having heard many stories of the House Telvanni the young girl was suitably impressed. It seemed fate had found her a far more interesting group than she had hoped or bargained for.

    The bard spoke next, he had a friendly air about him. Like some kind of gentle giant he seemed trustworthy, he was easy to speak to. "What brings all of you to this journey?"

    Nodding in agreement with Tacitus she scooted forward in her seat. "Pretty much the same for me. I'd been living in the Imperial City for a while and I've been travelling since then. Figured it was worth seeing the land my pa always talked about with my own eyes." Smiling warmly at the redguard she hoped that she would be able to wrangle a fair few tales from him before their time was over.

    Listening closely to Freyr Elsa nodded, knowing she would need to get herself some furs before they left town. Deciding to remain in the tavern for the night she flexed her fingers around her wet cloak and cleared her throat. As Freyr left she looked to the rest of the men before excusing herself. "Uh, well in that case I think I'm going to talk to someone about a room, get myself sorted out before we leave. I guess I'll see you all around." Standing up she nodded her goodbye before quickly heading to the barmaid to inquire about a room for the night.
     

    Farthlion

    I swear to drunk, I'm not Talos.
    The bard listened politely to each of his companions' stories. They certainly had interesting backgrounds. Several of their surnames sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite think of where he had heard of them before. Perhaps during the next few days he would find them in his books somewhere - he certainly brought enough for an entire library.

    Farth gave a great yawn and stretched his massive arms. Where did this tiredness come from? He watched as Freyr, the leader of the strange group left, stating he would return for them in about 3 days. The bard took his cup in his large hand and clumsily got up from the table. He was quite thankful that they wouldn't have to begin their adventure in such dreary weather. Skyrim certainly had more to offer than rain for a first time traveler.

    "Goodnight my friends," he waved with a friendly smile.

    Taking a large gulp from what was left of his pint, he went to go find the inn's bard. If there were stories to be told, he wanted to hear them!
     

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