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 Last Dragonborn

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Zelda, Feb 28, 2017.

  1. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    The Last Dragonborn

    "The year is two hundred and one, the Fourth Era.

    A home to the Nords now faces corruption, death, crime, rebellion, and... dragons?

    Legend tells of a hero, Dovahkiin, a dragon's soul in a mortal's body, born to slay dragons.

    With the rebellion caused by Ulfric Stormcloak and the resurrection of dragons, Skyrim is in chaos.

    According to rumors, a dragon attacked and destroyed Helgen, leaving very few survivors. One of those survivors slain a dragon outside of Whiterun right before absorbing its power. This, hero... may be the Last Dragonborn.

    For us, who knows what this Dragonborn may bring us. Hope? Death? It concerns me, thus the reason I am writing this. I am just an ordinary merchant; my neighbors live the same life. Some more powerful than I and more in the ranks of other guilds still worry for this Dragonborn.

    No matter what the Dovahkiin brings to Skyrim, we will still fight for our home.

    With or without him."

    - Anonymous


    *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

    This is the Role Play Forum for The Last Dragonborn Roleplay. In The Last Dragonborn, your character will be living or traveling through Skyrim at the time of the rise of the Last Dragonborn. Your characters will interact with the world, just as every other NPC does. Whether your character is powerful, high-ranking, or an ordinary citizen, they live in the time of change. Fighting for the Imperials or Stormcloaks, joining the Dark Brotherhood or College of Winterhold, Trading as a Merchant or Healing as a Priest; your character is alive.

    To learn more about this role play thread and request joining, you must follow the guidelines to the OOC Thread of The Last Dragonborn.

    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/18-the-last-dragonborn.93022/#skyrim-discussion.6
     
    • Like Like x 3
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    lizardisok: 20 Points Mar 2, 2017
    Valin Oakthorn: 14 Points (Looks like a really interesting roleplay, I'll be trying to read as much of it as I can.) Mar 7, 2017
  2. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    A creaking door greeted the workers of The Drunken Huntsman with a familiar face. With only a smile to the figure, they were greeted one back; the usual courteous gift the figure gave. The figure, or rather woman, sat at a bench, a book at hand. Her armor was always a sight to see for those who did not know her; it was clean, polished, and well taken care of. She refused to to dishonor her home with a beaten-down excuse for armor.

    Her scarf was another clean thing to find - other than the fact that almost everything from her radiated cleanliness of a higher person in society - was a blue scarf. The most sacred material object she owned she brought with her everywhere she traveled. Others could potentially find such a materialistic and useless object ridiculous to care for more than one's blade, but the woman was sentimental.

    Another strange addition to her appearance was her soft facial features, her vibrantly light blue eyes, and her youthful white hair. They screamed Nord, but her physique still held the indication of partial Breton descent. She was truly a rare sight in such dreary times. The sight was not exactly deceiving, but judging a person by their appearance was no better than judging a book by its cover.

    In the tavern, she was a normal sight for those familiar with the woman. "Welcome back Valencia. Here to read and enjoy a meal?" A waitress stood beside the youthful white-haired woman. "Thank you, love. And yes; how could I enjoy my day without a fine read?" The woman's voice was light and gentle, going against the armor of a knight that she adorned; however, it was defeated with the vibrant smile that rose to her lips. "Of course; how could I forget? The same as usual?" "Yes please, thank you." With brief conversation, it was still strikingly noticeable as a converse between two friendly acquaintances.
     
    • Like Like x 2
    • Winner Winner x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Specter of Death: 17 Points (Great start to a potentially great RP!) Mar 6, 2017
  3. thatguy2

    thatguy2 Member

    Joined:
    Nov 13, 2016
    Messages:
    52
    Likes Received:
    5
    Reputation:
    70
    The young Nord felt the heavy weight of another man sleeping on top of him. He ran his hands through the man's auburn hair and over his beard, taking note of the scars there that ran across his nose and cheek. He felt the young man on top of him place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

    "Good morning, Erik." The words rang out quietly across the room as Erik's eyes slowly drifted across the young priest's face.

    "Good morning Alvor," he replied, returning the kiss to the man's cheek. They headed down to the bath at their houses, cleaning the dirt off of themselves and off each other. Once done, Erik slipped into his chainmail, placing the yellow leather jerkin on top of that and slipping into the cloak he had received when he became a guardsman. He slipped it into the brooch Alvor, his husband, had given him, as Alvor also got dressed. They broke their fast on some milk, cheese, and cooked beef. They headed out to Riverwood, to keep watch and protect it from any dangers that may be lurking from the dragons.
     
    • Like Like x 2
    • Winner Winner x 2
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Specter of Death: 7 Points (Fantastic Start my friend. I love the duo :D) Mar 7, 2017
    Keidivh: 5 Points (I hope your not like me and cause something tragic to happen, cause they seem like such a happy couple xD) Mar 7, 2017
    lizardisok: 5 Points Mar 10, 2017
  4. Hart

    Hart Active Member

    Joined:
    Aug 1, 2015
    Messages:
    171
    Likes Received:
    79
    Reputation:
    286
    A morning in Whiterun was no quite thing, in any of the districts. The Wind District was alive with the sounds of the sparring Companions, Carlotta chatting with early morning goers, and Anoriath hanging up fresh killed meats in his stall. The Plains District was also far from quiet, much of the disturbance coming from an auburn headed woman as she bartered for pricing.

    "Are you sure this is all you have, love? I ordered the stock two weeks ago, giving you plenty of time to compile ingots. The quality, too... Where is Kyne's name did you get such poorly smelted materials?" She clicked her tongue, disappointed. Pure silver ingots were harder to come by, yes, but visible imperfections on the precious metals surface were wholly unacceptable. The woman continued picking up stock, turning each over and making disapproving noises, fully aware of the half scowl Andrianne was giving her.

    "You know materials are getting harder to come by, what with bandits getting bolder on the roads, and now dragons roaming the sky. I'm honestly very surprised I was able to come by this much, let alone five of them being of higher quality. Make your decision then, the forge is getting cold and I've got a business to run."

    The auburn headed woman let out a disapproving sigh. "You're right, my apologies. How is 3/4 pay for what you have here, and I thrown in a Cyrodillic engraved pendant with onyx? I'll set up the next shipment with your husband inside, but let it just be ore? Is the deal fair?" The two of them deliberated on details for another few minutes before both finally headed inside to finalize the business. They were fairly good business partners, so jabs at one another were to be expected. Andrianne, however, had been right. Craftsmen specializing in anything other than weapons and armor in the war struggled to make a decent living, let alone hold a successful business open for long periods of time.


    Needless to say, the woman had earned herself a reputation among the guards of the front gates. A successful and road traveled merchant that she was, she had previously managed to coerce the men to tell about their loves lives, working a pitch from there. One or two petty fools had been dumb enough to listen to her "sagely" woman's advice and buy a ring from her, in the hopes of proposing to girls they fancied. Of course, they were on their own when it came to an amulet of Mara. But morning still rolled on, and the woman departed from the forge, straight into The Drunken Huntsman to barter for something else this time.

    Her entrance was anything but subtle. "Elrindir, lovely, how are you this fine morning? Have you got that shipment of Colovian Brandy, Surlie Brother's, and Firebrand Wine?" She shot the Bosmer a dazzling smile, leaning her elbow against the counter in a relaxed manner. The woman in shining armor had caught her attention when she first set foot inside, but made no move to regard her until her business was finished. Patrons before noon seemed to be a rare thing for the establishment.
     
    • Like Like x 3
    • Winner Winner x 2
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Specter of Death: 7 Points (Great Start my friend!) Mar 7, 2017
    Valin Oakthorn: 10 Points (Really great job of showing the characters personality through actions. Great writing!) Mar 7, 2017
  5. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

    Joined:
    Mar 11, 2016
    Messages:
    162
    Likes Received:
    80
    Reputation:
    216
    [​IMG]
    A gentle breeze rolled through the forests of Falkreath, causing the branches to rustle and sway, sounding as if they were whispering secrets to each other that no mortal would ever get to hear. Breathing in a deep inhalation of his pipe, the Breton closed his eyes as he sat back in his wooden chair which overlooked Lake Ilnalta. At times like this he would realize how tired he felt, every muscle in his body aching to its very core. If only he could just stay like this, just never open his eyes again.

    ‘One such as you doesn’t deserve to know any semblance of peace, Oathbreaker.’

    His face visible flinched at the voice that spoke to him, falling into a deep frown. You think I don’t know that? I’ll never know peace in my lifetime, you don’t need to remind me of it ya prick.’

    ‘If the Divines have any sense of justice, then your soul will be damned to Oblivion when it ends.’

    Icy blue eyes shot open, only to find himself completely alone, the rustling trees the only voices speaking to him now. “You may be right on that account old friend.” Taking another draw from his pipe, he let it out in a shaky exhale. Perhaps this was why he was so tired. Whenever he took a moment to rest, they came back…

    “Rol!” The darkness of his thoughts seemed to drain away, now laughing lightly to himself, Rolard turned to see a young child running up to him. She had flowing blonde hair much like her mother, trailing behind her as she raced towards him. Getting up from his chair he knelt down to capture her, pretending to be knocked back by the force of her. “Oof, knocked me down again Snowflake. I swear you hit like a Minotaur.” The Breton laughed in amusement as she was picked by Rolard, her blue eyes showing now, nearly identical to Rolards asides from the glow of his.

    “Hehe, or your as flimsy as a Goblin!" She shot back, sticking her tongue out at him, causing a genuine smile to form on his face. “Brother said dinner is ready, will you be able to eat with us this time.” At this his smile faded somewhat, sighing as he began walking towards their homestead. “You know I can’t little sister. Business in Whiterun, somebodies gotta bring home the bacon.”

    His sister crossed her arms and pouted at the large Breton, clearly displeased with his answer. “But your always gone Rol, and every time you come back you’re bleeding. I don’t want the bad men to hurt you. To…” Her voice broke and eyes began to water before pressing her head against, staining his clothes tears, poking at his heart like hot irons. Gently kissing the top of her head, he held her tight, stopping for a moment to try and comfort her.

    “Shush now Snowflake. They might get a few knicks in but I always end up on top. I’m just too good to lose.” This seemed to at least stop the tears, although she still clutched onto him as if he’d slip away into the Void. She had seen too much for one her age, lost too much. The last thing she needed to worry about was her eldest brother dying to.

    Eventually the woods gave way to a small clearing where his family’s manor lie. The great hall was still under construction, largely delayed due to Rolard’s consistent absence, but slowly progress was being made. Really the only livable portion of the house was the entrance hall where the three siblings crammed in together. A far cry from the sprawling grounds of Akaire, but it was theirs. Two torches lit the front of the homestead, showing off its smooth white stone walls and yellow tiled roof. Upon entering it became clear just how cramped their living. A bunk bed was squeezed into the corner, a fire pit with a large kettle hanging over it where another Breton stood over it, attempting to make something edible, although by the grey, watery look of the soup he had made it clearly wasn’t working out. He wasn’t as tall as Rolard but had a powerful build nonetheless, with long, brown hair and a clean shaven face. His blue eyes looked up when the door opened.

    “Heading out already then are ya?” There was an air of disinterest in his voice as he asked the question. He already knew the answer to it, and though he tried to hide it was clear that he resented Rolard for it. Keeping him boxed up in the middle of nowhere while he adventured throughout Skyrim. To him it must have truly seemed glorious. How wrong he was.

    “Well I was thinking of staying brother, but after smelling whatever concoction your brewing think I’d rather walk all the way to Whiterun on an empty stomach.” Vaynar glared at him for a moment before, an uncomfortable silence filling the small room before all three broke out into laughter.

    “I miss Old Nan, she always made the best stews.” Ellia hopped out of Rolards arms before running over to grab a bowl of the greyish soup, making a scrunched up face at smelling the food. “Blegh, only you could turn chicken stew into this Vaynar.”

    “Hey now, least I don’t chasing you round the house trying to smack you with a wooden spoon if you stole a sweetroll like Old Nan! That woman was more vicious than a troll.” The two siblings laughed as they reminisced, Rolard only rolling his eyes as he moved to a locked dresser, opening it to reveal masterfully forged set of armor. It was well kept, superbly polished, inlaid with arctic wolf fur. The most noticeable aspect of the armor however were the lightly glowing runes that were etched around the edges, making it a truly enchanting sight to behold. It didn’t take long to armor himself, the process having long ago become second nature to him. Saphfire was sheathed at its side, the ancient and enchanted blade looking as if it was fresh from the forge, the passage of time seeming to have no effect on it. The next weapon he picked up made him grimace however, a sleek steel dagger which looked to belong more to a thief or assassin than a knight. Heh, or an ex-knight at least. He recalled when his little sister Ellia had gifted him the blade. Something that he could use to kill all the bad men with. She had a perturbing obsession with these men, and no matter what he said to console her, she always feared they would come to take her and her brother, just like they took her home. Her parents. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do for her besides pray to the Divines that her fragile psyche stay intact.

    Hmm, I wonder if the Divines listen to prayers from the damned? He simply shook his head as he sheathed the blade on the back of his waist, before picking up the final piece of his ensemble. The Ember Crown itself, a silver circlet inlaid with runes to protect against the bitter cold or blistering flame, with three sapphire gems inlaid in the center. It was the only thing they had that still connected them to Akaire, to show that even now his family were the rightful rulers. And if it painted a larger target on his back so be it.

    After finishing arming himself he took to packing some other essential in his satchel, a few skins of water, dried beef, clothes, a sleeping bag and some other mundane supplies. With everything gathered the siblings in a group hug. “Be careful out there Rol, and make sure to wear your wolf skin so you don’t catch cold!” Rolard cocked an eyebrow at the little Breton, not a hint of joking in her voice.

    “And try to mind the bandits and giants as well. Hear they’re not great for your health.” This look then turned to Vaynar, who clearly enjoyed seeing Ellia trying to mother their eldest brother.

    “Why thank you mum and dad, I’ll try not to stub my tow as I walk out.” Opening the door, the young noble began the trek to Whiterun, turning back for a moment to see his siblings standing in the door frame. Trying to force a confident and unconcerned smile, he waved at them before wandering into the dark trails of Falkreaths woodlands. While most would think twice about travelling so late into the night, but Rolard wasn’t particularly concerned with any bandits or beasts that would dare try to cross his path. As he walked he pulled out a strange note that had been bothering him ever since it managed to find its way to his homestead, a place he made sure few knew existed, so how some anonymous merchant found it was beyond him. But even more concerning than that was the contents of it. Dragons attacking the Holds, and now some Dragonborn who can absorb their souls to use as they see fit. All of it spelled danger and chaos, things he didn’t care to have near his family. He needed answers, and it was clear those would be in Whiterun. Finding some new jobs would just be a bonus. Wrapping the arctic wolf cloak right around himself, he quickened his pace, eager to find answers.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    It was a rather uneventful journey to Whiterun as far as Rolard was concerned. The odd bandit here and there, a couple of wolves he got to skin and hopefully make a few Septims off of. His eyes had light bags beneath them, an evident sign that he had walked non-stop from his home towards Whiterun. When he finally approached the gates the two guards on duty laughed at the sight.

    “Well well, the Prince of Rags returns? To what do we owe the honor your grace?” One of the larger Nordic guards he came to call Dull-F***. He had heard his true name before, but found this one suited him so much better.

    “Well from what I heard the good guardsmen of Whiterun are having some issues with dragons and other nasty beasts Dull-F***, so I’ve come to lend aid. Unless you prefer me to sit back and watch your town burn to the ground cause you’re a stubborn jack ass with just enough cognitive ability to know what end of the sword is the pointy one.” Neither Dull-F*** or his fellow gate guard had anything to say back to the Breton warrior after then, the large nod simply scowling as he gave a nod for him to pass. Giving a mocking bow towards the Nord, he entered the city, not before turning to the other guardsmen.

    “Try not to let this guy rub off on you lad. Gives the good folk of Whiterun a bad name.” Not waiting for him to respond he walked into the bustling Plains District of Whiterun. Stopping at the entrance, he took a moment to listen to the wondrous noises of a lively city. Adrienne seemed to be bartering with a quite knowledgeable customer, further up in the square he could hear the yammering of many deals being made, and the occasional yell to accompany it. He even managed to catch Carlotta tossing a very stale loaf of bread into Mikael after another one of his pathetic advances, sending him reeling back and stepping into a pale of water. How such a fool ever managed to become a bard was inconceivable. “Hmph, old Leodias would such his lute up the boys ass if he ever met him I’d bet.”

    It was all quite the spectacle, and it was something that made the bitter noble relax somewhat, letting himself be reminded of what it was like to live a normal life. “Fine day to you Adrianne, getting screwed out your full pay I see, not the best way to start the day now is it.” The blacksmith, glared at him for a moment, her grimy and soot covered face looking like she was about to say ‘piss off’ before she simply sighed and turned back to her forge.

    “In all honesty it was better than I could have hoped for. Supplies are getting scarce. Was bad enough with bandits and highwaymen taking control of the roads with the civil war, but now with dragon attacks. Ulfberth and I are lucky to break even as is.” While her voice didn’t give any sign of anger or frustration, it came through quite clearly in her work as she began beating on a super-heated blade perhaps a bit too hard, but likely was helping her to not beat in someone else’s head so he kept quiet.

    “Forgive me, I knew things were tight but… Is there any way I may assist.”

    “If you’re asking if we have the Septims to pay you to clear out the roads or guide in some supplies I’d think you’d know the answer Lord Seton. We have none to spare.” She stated coldly, her eyes not even leaving her work as she went back to the forge to get to making a new blade, sweat dripping from her brow due to the blistering heat.

    “Hmm, a fine point, though I’ll keep an eye out for anything that may help you and your War-Bear with this. A fine day to you mi’lady.” Bowing slightly towards the Imperial, Rolard left Warmaiden’s to enter the Drunken Huntsmen, which generally was a bit quieter this time a day than the overcrowded bannered Mare, and allowed him to sell some of his supplies as well. Upon entering he was immediately hit with the aroma a freshly cooked meats, still roasting over the fire pit with delicious spices, and more importantly strong booze.

    His entrance was sure to draw eyes as he was a rather eccentric sight, though familiar to some there. Even in the rather dimly lit tavern his armor still shined with a pristine glimmer, its runes in particular glowing an azure blue.

    His face held a clear nobility to it, from his strong chin to well kept hair and stubble, though the most striking thing about his countenance were his eyes, which clearly glowed an icy blue, causing a couple of Nordic patrons to become disgruntled at the sight, likely taking it as a sign of sorcery. And despite his lean build he was powerfully built, something not regularly seen amongst Bretons.

    A broad smile on his face, he completely disregarded the looks of contempt he received so often, brushing it off with an easy going attitude. “And a fine morning to all you lovely folks, and to you as well Elrindir you glorious Bosmer you. Your brother manage to shove another arrow up your ass since I’ve been gone?” While perhaps not the best way to make an entrance, he just couldn't help himself at times.

    Elrindir was clearly not amused with the entrance or introductions by any means, trying his best not to acknowledge the Bretons appearance. “I’m dealing with a client right now Rolard, why don’t you just take a seat somewhere and bother the waitress, we can speak later.”

    “Touchy now aren’t we, and this that any way to talk to a customer my friend?” He didn’t press the issue however, knowing if he pissed off Elrindir to much he’d never get a decent price for the fresh wolf pelts he had acquired. So instead he turned to the auburn haired Nord who evidently had the faintest looks of an Imperial about her, “Forgive me the interruption mi’lady. And lovely dagger might I add.” He added with a wink before walking over to a table close to the fire, attempting to hail down the waitress. As he waited to place an order his attention turned to a heavily armored woman who sat on a bench, engrossed in a book which he couldn’t quite see the title of. Her hair looked to be as white as freshly fallen snow, and despite her battle ready appearance appeared almost genuinely friendly. A tough act to pull off.

    “Well now, how could I have possibly missed you when I entered? A fine morning to you mi’lady, and may I say that is some superbly crafted armor you have there. Haven’t seen anything of such craftsmanship since last I was in…” His voice trailed off into uncertainty, unsure if revealing who he was to this stranger was such a good idea. Granted it wasn’t a well-kept secret (something he had made sure off), but something about that armor reminded him a bit too much about home. Unfortunately that only spelled danger.

    “Heh, well, it’s been quite some time to say the least. Rolard Seton, at your service.” He stood to give a small bow before returning to his seat, the waitress finally coming over to drop off his usual order of Solstheim Spiced Wine and roasted pheasant. Taking a deep drink of the wine, he let out a sigh as he let the alcohol relax his body and numb his mind, an award winning combination if there ever was one. If only he could afford to be inebriated more often.

    @Zelda @Hart and whoever else joins!
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Valin Oakthorn: 10 Points (Wow, great writing! Look forward to reading more.) Mar 7, 2017
    The Phantom: 8 Points (Now this is a character introduction, my good fellow) Mar 10, 2017
    #5 Keidivh, Mar 7, 2017
    Last edited: Mar 7, 2017
  6. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Herald of Glory. Faas Dinok.

    Joined:
    Oct 30, 2012
    Messages:
    1,812
    Likes Received:
    512
    Reputation:
    411
    DISCLAIMER: THIS POST EMBRACES THE 18+ RATING OF THIS RP TO THE EXTREME. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THEMES OF SUICIDE AND SELF-HARM PLEASE REFRAIN FROM READING THIS POST. (I hate doing OOC bits in posts like this, and this will be the first and only time I will be doing so. But even in an 18+ post I feel the need to include this, for it would not be the first time I get negative backlash for writing like this.)

    Jump.


    Kyneth knew the view above the falls cascading over the sharp rocks of the reach would only be beautiful for so long. A moment ago all he could think about was how much it reminded him of home; High Rock. The sharp cliffs and mountain forests of the Wrothgarian mountain range in which he grew up, and later trained in. Now? It seemed the urges he learned to bury deep inside of his mind were seeping out his very ears.

    Jump. Just do it. It would only hurt for a moment.

    He looked at his feet, then at the smooth stone slab beneath them. His toes slowly inching themselves to drape over the golden, Dwemer trim that adorned it's edges. Would it only take a moment? Or would he feel every bone in his body break drop by drop as the current thrashed and threw him into the countless boulders hidden beneath the white waters? Instinctually, he closed his eyes, and looked forward. Slowly, his right leg lifted itself from it's position next to it's mirrored twin, readying to take a step up the first stair in a staircase that didn't exist. His heart started to pound, shaking his reality and deafening out the white noise of the falls.

    Just lean forward coward. You deserve it.

    Then, the thumping stopped and was abruptly replaced with a hearty, nervous chuckle. It lasted but a second, before his eyes opened to reveal the same view he had been contemplating just moments before. A part of him was disheartened; almost like he had hoped to see a different view entirely or rather nothing at all.

    The blade of his dagger stuck to the inside of it's sheathe as he pulled it out with a well defined yank of his right hand, and with the same hand, he pulled the sleeve of his tunic out from under his bracer and up his forearm to show bare skin. The cold sting of the well sharpened edge against his skin, cut a new well defined line in his arm with ease. Like a wave, he felt the warm serotonin flush it's way through his body. He let his head tip back, and his eyes roll; pure ecstasy.

    F***ing coward. You know you're going to do it eventually, you deserve it and you f***ing know it.

    After taking in a few long inhales through his nose, Kyneth dropped his head, wiping the blade of his dagger on his pants before sharply shoving it back into it's home. It took him but a moment to pull a wod of cotton and wrapping cloth from his belt to wrap his wound, which he couldn't help but gaze into and spread open with his fingers before he did so. It was a deep wound this time, one of the deepest he had made. For some reason he was fascinated with looking at his own flesh when disfigured and marred. It added to the high, in a way, and it was something Kyneth was deeply ashamed of.

    You sick, worthless, sadistic piece of sh**. You think this is normal? It's not, you're not. Don't even try to tell yourself that this kind of crap is okay to do. Next time, slice vertically. See what kind of high that gives you, you morbid, waste of breath. You should f***ing hate yourself.

    "I do," he muttered, in what could only be described as less than a whisper.

    It took him a few more moments before he was satisfied that the bandage was well hidden beneath his sleeve, and began tucking it back under his bracer. He glanced at the sky for a split second, taking in what he already knew, the sun was hidden behind the dark grey overcast cloud. A definite sign of an impending storm. His map was roughly folded, but easily tucked away between the waistband of his trousers and his skin, which allowed him to quickly access and unfold it.

    "Deep Folk Crossing," he spoke to himself, eyeing the western reaches of the province's crudely sketched outline where he was located, "Half a day's walk to Karthwasten. Good. With my luck it will be far beyond nightfall before I arrive."

    The thought of the small Reach town being completely dead silent sparked a stir of excitement within his stomach. Enough to mute out the voice for the time being. He still, however, had some time to kill before the deluge began. Kyneth was already deeply rooted in the decision not to begin his trek to the small village until the rain began to fall, so he knelt himself slowly to the Dwemer bridge's stone floor until he could rest his bottom down into a seated position. His legs draped over the edge, down toward the falls, which despite the itching urge he did not look at.

    "Perhaps a pipefull of green-reed to pass the time," he half questioned, half stated to himself, pulling out the small pouch of his smoking herb, and long wooden pipe. It wouldn't be any more than an hour before the sky began to quench the thirst of the ground beneath it, and here he would stay until then; perched and inhaling the calming smoke in deep, defined breathes.
     
    • Like Like x 1
    • Winner Winner x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Valin Oakthorn: 12 Points (Controversial subject but definitely written tastefully and well.) Mar 7, 2017
    #6 Specter of Death, Mar 7, 2017
    Last edited: Mar 7, 2017
  7. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    The Cake and the Diamond: a short but entertaining tale that, when Valencia was a child, she was read multiple times. It was still one of her most memorable books to date, as she always made sure to put a read of it somewhere within long strands of time. The old woman used to make her giggle, and the thieves made her praise the woman's tactics unconditionally.

    "Here you are dear." Lifting her icy but calming blue eyes from the text, Valencia met with one of the waitresses who had her usual snack; a fine glass of water and a sweet roll. Perhaps not very nutritious, but that was the point; she made sure to treat herself every now and again to keep her spirits up in such dark times. It also supported the tavern, which by all means she was willing to help as many people as she could. As a knight, she couldn't avoid such feelings.

    "Thank you love," her sweet voice responded, giving a few septims to the waitress: some to pay for the dining, and a few to tip. As the waitress left her side, the white-haired youthful woman took a sip of the refreshing cool water. She wasn't one for alcohol; spoke as if it poisoned the mind. Of course, she would enjoy a small bit of wine on a special occasion. Taking a small bite of the sweet roll, its oozing sweetness tingled her tongue - they were always baked daily there. Taking another sip of her water, she began to read the book she read multiple times prior.

    However, she heard an unfamiliar voice calling to her, making her eyes leave the text once again to face the source. Her eyes found a rather noble man, appearing in a what appeared to be enchanted attire from a first glance. He looked like one whose past was private to him; proving her correct when he spoke. With her usual knightly but royal like demeanor, she gave a warming smile to the male.

    "Good morning to you too, love. And thank you for the compliment; your armor is too a sight to see. I am Valencia Ildrose." Her voice was her usual; light and sweet. It contrasted heavily with her knightly appearance. Of course, it was simply how she was raised. So close with the royal family, she certainly picked up on their demeanor unintentionally. It seemingly worked well with both the allies and the enemies, as gentleness at such a time is difficult to come across.

    As the male left, she returned herself to her book, reading, eating, drinking. It was a relaxing moment for her; something she tried her best to soak in.
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Keidivh: 6 Points (Ha, great post and good choice in literature! xD) Mar 8, 2017
  8. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    A soft breeze danced gracefully through the leaves both above and below. Birds sung their songs in relaxing melodies, flowing sweetly with the sounds of other creatures that wandered the forest.

    Not only did the creatures sing their tunes, a young woman - 19 years young - hummed her own graceful tune of a peaceful song. Her blonde hair and white dress blew slightly with the cooler breeze, enjoying her work.

    In hand, she held a basket while the other free hand plucked Nirn of its ingredients. Mountain flowers, mushrooms, and more. Continuing to walk gently through the forest as she hummed, she took a deep breath of fresh air: only to be taken aback by the scent of rain and the trickles of cold droplets. Rain.

    Usually the nature-loving woman was quite accurate in predicting the weather; however, no one was entirely infallible. As she picked up the pace, the rain seemingly mimicked her. A steady pour occurred as she ran, looking for cover.

    The trees were not entirely great for cover and she had yet to find a decent rocky cover. Finally a different smell entered her nostrils: a pungent smoky odor. Smoke could only occur with dryness, and she was desperate. Shivering, the woman ran towards the scent, finding the glistening tint of dwemer ruins. She was not knowledgeable on such, but found the machines fascinating.

    It was there she found a ledge; perfect for hiding from the rain! However, she saw the figure with her indigo eyes. He was taller, older, and intimidating to her. To be truthful, she was frightened by him. With the evils running rampant through the lands, she was weary of the stranger's presence. Despite this, she could no longer endure the cold rain.

    Walking quietly over to the male, she stood underneath the ledge, slightly tense, but stayed quiet. "My apologies. I wish not to disturb you sir." Despite her shivering, her voice was soft, airy, and light; a gentle breeze, as usual. Her indigo eyes glanced away as she pushed her soaked blonde hair aside, and she hoped the lack in eye contact would lessen the chance of aggression from the male.
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
  9. DropTop

    DropTop Member

    Joined:
    Dec 8, 2016
    Messages:
    42
    Likes Received:
    21
    Reputation:
    49
    Outside Whiterun, clad in petty fur armor, stood a figure of immense strength. His situation would be considered a tragedy to those outside his reality. Those who's affairs lie within the city wall. However, he was just content with his situation. Why integrate with a people who couldn't even define themselves to their home. Split between Empire and Stormcloaks, both die to his hands with swift measure on the roads of Skyrim. Starring at the gates, he knew their was no point in approaching. A simple expression is the only thing that kept him starring at that gate. That expression was curiosity, a devilish form indeed. He had strayed a hundred yards from his caravan, standing in solidarity about 50 ft from the gate. The guards eyed him carefully and they need not speak to relay the message that he wasn't welcome. A Cathay-raht wasn't a rare sight, and it surely wasn't one that pleased the eyes of man. A Khajiit capable of man-handling each and every guard that stood in his way ironically played in their favor. Any move he made toward the door would result in perhaps him being detained and made a fool. So instead of feeding their desire to jump him there, he stood with curiosity as to what was on the other side. All he knew were bandits, spriggans, bears, sabre cats, necromancers, skeletons, wolves. All of skyrims enemies weren't just acquaintances to Kharjiir. Every day he slaughtered someone or something, and it was his form of venting the anger that fueled his will. Why without that anger he'd have nothing to think about. He'd be like the wild beasts that roamed this land, living off instinct for survival. The anger that gave Kharjiir a purpose was the anger towards the guards that stood before him. Towards the people that walked in and out of these gates without question. If it were up to them, he'd punish them all. So he stood, air forced through his nostrils as his temperature grew. His curiosity derived from his necessity to one day infiltrate these gates, and take what these people held so valuable. That curiosity would never be settled however, because unlike his more agile kin he couldn't sneak his way in and out with ease. For a cat his size, you could point him out a mile away.
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
    • Like Like x 1
  10. Hart

    Hart Active Member

    Joined:
    Aug 1, 2015
    Messages:
    171
    Likes Received:
    79
    Reputation:
    286
    The woman couldn't have rolled her eyes harder at the newest guest as he spoke to her. Flattery was one thing, but this wasn't it, as she noted his armor and manor, eyes resting on the jeweled band that rested on his brow. He seemed to be someone used to getting his way with women.

    Looking back at the Bosmer as he placed 15 bottles of alcohol on the counter, she nodded in approval. A deft hand popped the seal on a brandy, she drew out a hollowed cattail reed and dipped it in the sweet liquid. A brief taste test left her nodding again as she recorked the bottle. "This is a good shipment this month, Elrindir. I commend you on that. I'll trust your work and assume the rest of these are good quality too. I meant to ask last time, is your brother still considering that month long hunting trip? He's got the whole plains of the Whiterun hold and he wants to travel to catch his deer."

    The man sighed and shook his head. "I asked him not to go, we can't afford to have the meat stand closed for that long. Besides, I agree with you. There are plenty of deer to catch right outside these walls. What are you doing with these bottles anyway?"

    "Ah, that. Err. Selling it all as a set. You know, the brandy goes with Cyrodillic styled pieces, the Firebrand goes well with gold jewelry with rubies in it, and the Surlie wine is good for traditional Nord bits. I've sold more steel torcs to men looking for strong drink than those looking to actually buy a bit of metal for around the neck. I can't say it's a... bad thing. You just have to know who to sell to. Target audiences."


    Elrindir gave a thoughtful look before shrugging. His specialty lie elsewhere, and he was good at it. Taking the hit that the conversation was over, the auburn headed woman produced a hefty sack of coins and dropped it on the counter, and went to wrap each of the bottles in a thin layer of tundra cotton and leather, storing them in the massive pack she had next to her feet. The knight-looking female she glanced still held her interest, and she wander over towards her bench, calling the waitress over and asking she prepare a meal for the road. Taking a seat next to the knight-woman, she stretched her arms over her head and sighed.

    "The Cake and the Diamond, hmm? I used to love that book in my younger years. I couldn't help but notice your pendant earlier, and I was curious of its maker... Ah, if you don't mind me asking that is. I know some folks tend to be a little possessive of family heirlooms."

    @Zelda @Keidivh
     
    • Like Like x 2
    • Winner Winner x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Keidivh: 6 Points (How could you give him the cold shoulder, he's so chariming! xP awesome post friend!) Mar 8, 2017
  11. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Herald of Glory. Faas Dinok.

    Joined:
    Oct 30, 2012
    Messages:
    1,812
    Likes Received:
    512
    Reputation:
    411
    Puff by puff, Kyneth inhaled the euphoric and carcinogen rich herb packed tightly into his long, wooden pipe. A tradition carried by his great grandmother's tribe, smoking the many different plants and flowers that grew across Nirn was a way of connecting one with the spirit, and the planet itself. This specific plant, green reed, was something he had bought sometime long before he had crossed the border into Skyrim this time around. Supposedly imported from Yakuda, it was a particularly potent smoke, and quickly brought Kyneth into a calm, and relaxed disposition.

    What must have only been about fifteen or so minutes, passed for what seemed like hours, before he felt an icy drop dot his right cheek. Then another on his forehead, and so on. Before he knew it, he was throwing his hood back over his head and darting under the cover of the tower nearest to him that was holding up the impressive dwarven bridge. Taking in one last draw from his pipe before tapping out it's contents, Kyneth exhaled the cloud of smoke in 3 strong and pronounced o's that were quickly swept away by the ever increasing downpour. His eyes were closed now, inhaling the sweet and calming smell the rain gave off as it drenched the ground. Petrichor had always been one of the things that relaxed him most, along with the rain and storms that brought it. This on top of the buzz the reed had brought him, was as close to happy as he had been in a fairly long time.

    "Those damn deserts, I swear they suck the soul right outta you," he spoke in a soft sigh, letting his eyes open to stare up at the stormy clouds above.

    "My apologies. I wish not to disturb you sir," a soft, and unexpectedly friendly voice spoke out beside him.

    Even despite it's soft and welcoming tone, the words it uttered sent chills down his spine and made his blood run cold as ice. He froze, stiffening and tensing his body in what was more than likely noticeable to the voice's source. Slowly, Kyneth turned his head to the right, letting a small figured girl enter his vision. He felt his eyes widen, and the shiver return up his spine. He was not expecting anybody to be so far up the rocky cliffs, and in this weather none the less. His eyes quickly darted away from her form, fair and small, dressed in elegant white. She too avoided looking directly at him, and quickly he felt the tension rise like a thick fog.

    Say something you bloody fool!

    "Er-uh," he started, only able to create incomprehensible noises.

    Lovely. Now how about WORDS? Unless you'd like to look like a half-wit?!

    "It's a-alright," he finally spat out softly, almost choking on each individual letter, "You're not disturbing me."

    There you go, now a smile ay? Make the situation a little less awkward.

    Kyneth let his head turn back to her again, this time staring at her feet and letting a small smile adorn his face. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could muster, before jerking his head back to staring - now awkwardly - at the clouds above. He nonchalantly raised a hand up to pull the hood off of his head, revealing more of his face and head; a meager attempt at making himself a little less imposing. It was clear the girl was uncomfortable with his presense, appearance, voice or perhaps all three. This made his heart start to thump in his ears, and his blood go from chilled to hot. A cold sweat began to flood the pores of Kyneth's skin, as the anxiety of being in such close proximity to another person set in.

    Do you move? Walk across the bridge to the other tower? NO, then she might get offended, like - like you may not actually be okay with her. No, just, don't move, hold perfectly still, and breathe damn it. Breath, man!

    His eyes dropped to his feet, his left foot tapping rapidly - and loudly against the damp stone floor. He closed his eyes briefly as he drew in a deep breathe, and as he exhaled he stopped his foot from tapping so noticeably, and nervously. Without the effects of the herbs still fresh in his body, odds are there wouldn't be half as much bodily control as he had. However, even his breathing didn't stop beads of sweat permeate atop his forehead, and moisten the skin under his clothing.

    Perhaps you should say something else? If you can't run away, odds are she won't either, and this storm is only going to grow more powerful. Erm... Rain! Say something about the rain!

    "I've always liked the rain,"
    he said soft and plainly.

    AND...?

    "It's uh-," he stuttered for a second, "it always sets my mind at ease."

    Good. Keep going, or this is only going to get more and more awkward, you bumbling wind-bag.

    "Even storms," his softness returned, "no matter how violent they might be, they just - give you something else to focus on. The power mother nature has, and how turbulent she can get. Really makes you think about how small your problems might actually be."

    Well now, you're not so bumbling after all, fella.

    "You know?" He trailed off, glancing at the girl once again with a pause.

    He took a short moment to analyze her face, which he found to be much friendlier looking than he initially noticed. Her face was soft, nose delicate and her eyes were a dazzling and soft shade of dark purple. The fair, blonde hair that cascaded down over her shoulders and back complimented her youthful beauty. After but a second of taking her in, he turned back to the view of the falls below; misting up with the ever increasing deluge.
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
    • Like Like x 1
  12. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

    Joined:
    Mar 11, 2016
    Messages:
    162
    Likes Received:
    80
    Reputation:
    216
    [​IMG]

    Rolard closed his eyes as he let the spiced wine burn down through his throat, numbing the many aches that ran throughout his beaten and scarred body.

    His eyes opened only when he realized that the armored woman had returned his greeting, her voice surprisingly sweet, the genuine tone catching him off guard. What truly puzzled him however was the nobility that seemed to seep through her words. It was a distinctive type of tone, one that reminded him a bit too much of the courts of High Rock, particularly Wayrest. While all peoples had there own nobility, High Rock was something different. Tradition, honor and etiquette were considered near sacred by the noble families, as much as cunning, subterfuge and ruthlessness were required to survive in the Great Game they all played. If you lived among such an environment it left an imprint that would be obvious to any other native to the courts of High Rock. By what were the chances an armored warrior from Wayrest would just happen to be here?

    You’re being paranoid fool. If they were to send assassin, this wouldn’t be her. She’d give me too clean a death.

    Shoving aside his concerns, he began tearing into the pheasant, the tender meat seeming to melt in his mouth. Elrindir may have been an ass at time but the bastard knew how to make a damn good pheasant.

    Before he could continue his conversation with the seemingly kindhearted woman, another had walked up to join her, the Nord who had preferred to roll her eyes at him rather than speak. He used to do rather well with the woman, but as his reputation had spread so to had the fairer sex’s opinion of him. Any who knew of who he was would get this look of disgust that cut just a bit deeper each time he was given it. How he longed to see the warm and accepting eyes of Alissa.

    If her eye's haven't been plucked out of course? Although I'm sure they would have had some fun with her before they did, poor thing.

    Shut the hell up, no one knew about that. She will be safe.
    His fists instinctively curled into a fist, knuckles turning white as his rage built.

    Are you as idiotic as you are dishonorable. No secrets are safe in that Game you nobles enjoy so much. She'll die because of you, another damned because of your action, Oathbreaker.
    His grip turned into a vice as the voice continued to torment him, the goblet in his hand shattering, the remaining wine falling like tears of blood onto the dirt covered floor. This immediately caught Elrindir's attention, who seemed about ready to toss him onto the street before Rolard turned to him.

    "I'll pay for it." His voice seemed to be more of a hiss as he dropped a small pile of Septims onto the table, enough to pay for the goblet and afford him another cup of it.

    "The Cake and the Diamond, hmm? I used to love that book in my younger years. I couldn't help but notice your pendant earlier, and I was curious of its maker... Ah, if you don't mind me asking that is. I know some folks tend to be a little possessive of family heirlooms."

    The voice of the merchant snapped him back to reality, giving an irritated sigh at his own actions, only hoping that they would go unnoticed.

    “Aye, quite tale that story, an old alchemist outwitting a thief. Course I always preferred books such as Before the Ages of Man. Tales of the Dawn and Merethic Era always held a certain kind of fantastical charm to me.” Reaching into his pack, Rolard pulled out his well-used pipe, packing it with some Razor Weed. It got its name from being a smoke that would burn through your throat, far from smooth. Any less though simply couldn’t take off the edge for the Breton. Striking a flint and lighting the pipe, he let smoke go deep into his lungs, holding it in before breathing it out in a long exhale, the room slowly filling with its distinct and earthy scent.

    “And aren’t you just the most curious little merchant. Looking to try and make a deal I take?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, prodding at her if only due to her cold demeanor to him before. Course it wasn’t like many others treated him far worse.

    “Ah but here I am trying to bring up business when I’m sure we’re all here for leisure. What brings you enchanting ladies to Whiterun, and the Drunken Huntsman of all places?” He could hear Elrindir mutter some profanity towards the Breton, causing him to smirk in amusement. As he waited to see if either responded he took a moment to look over the two. The merchant had a confident demeanor about her, and not one to take sh** from any judging by her reaction to his simple compliment. Her auburn hair further compliment her olive skin, something he wouldn’t expect from a Nord which only further convinced him something else ran in her blood.

    Meanwhile the woman who had actually acknowledged him had fair, pristine skin that he would expect from a Nord, but her build didn’t quite match, having a gentler, feminine look to her form, though still quite strong. Then there were her eyes, each a deep sea of blue that seemed to shine brighter even than his own eyes, almost exuding kindness. What's more they looked almost familiar, yet no matter how much he wracked his brain he couldn't remember why.

    Hmm, s’pose hunting down a job can wait. If only to see what stories they have to offer. He nodded to himself in assent before taking another draw from his pipe, the glow from the pipe lighting up his scarred visage.

    @Zelda @Hart
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
  13. Hart

    Hart Active Member

    Joined:
    Aug 1, 2015
    Messages:
    171
    Likes Received:
    79
    Reputation:
    286
    The forest green ring of her iris caught the light of the fire as she leveled her gaze towards the Breton, quirking and eyebrow at him as she watched him take a deep drag from his pipe, exhaling its smoky, choking scent into the tavern. Watching him with a frigid gaze, she said nothing, letting the silence settle in before she moved only to twist the ring on her finger. It was silver, engraved with Nordic patterns and inlaid with orichalcum and bits of broken onyx and emerald, and by the way she fiddled with it, it wasn't of significant importance.

    The auburn headed woman finally spoke, her voice cool and level as she kept eye contact with the male. "I do not conduct business on days I pick up on supplies. Or perhaps you were hoping to hear I was flouncing my way through Whiterun, looking to hire a strong and daring mercenary to protect my wagon back on my way to Solitude?" Clearing her throat, she broke off her stare and quit messing with the ring on her finger.

    "Whiterun is the business hub of Skyrim. Goods run through here like the wind runs the plains, so I choose to order through the local merchants to encourage trading since Divines know we could use the funds. In all reality, I stopped ordering my silver from Markarth because of the damned taxes they levied on even the ores. 20% they tacked on for the sake of profit, greedy bastards. 20!" Scoffing, she absently adjusted her bracers. With a softer expression, she nodded towards him, with an apologetic bow of the head.

    "Being rude is not good for reputation, as I have previously seen. My apologies. I am Lady Ihylin Sweetwater, of Solitude. Pleasure to meet you. You are...?"

    @Keidivh
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
    • Like Like x 1
  14. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Herald of Glory. Faas Dinok.

    Joined:
    Oct 30, 2012
    Messages:
    1,812
    Likes Received:
    512
    Reputation:
    411
    Rage... incredible rage. And sadness, thick and oozing. Her sight was clouded by the visions of a man's thoughts. Diluted with such agony and strife, that her gut was pained with knots, and her heart hot from it's intense thumping. Then numbness. Incredible numbness. Like death, her body grew inhumanly cold, and aching. Yearning. Searching for comfort, validation. Then the pain in her arm, the sting of her flesh being cleanly opened by a cold, unforgiving blade.

    Then it was over.

    Eruanna's body shot up from it's position laid in the soft grass. The vision was so vivid, so intense - like nothing she had ever experienced when spirit walking before. Whoever this man was, whoever's soul was in such pain, they were looking. Now she was to look as well, for the source of such raw and powerful emotions. Her body shook, as thunder above her seemed to tear open the very plane of mundus. How fitting, she thought plainly. The weather above seemed to tie into her very intuition, to the person she had just channeled.

    Putting her feet underneath her, she glided across the the yellow grassed hillside, until she could see her camp once again. The embers of what was once their blazing campfire, slowly being drowned by the deluge from above. She moved with quick, and focused determination as she gathered the few things she needed. Haphazardly, she threw her water-skin, and collection of gemstones and minerals into her pack before throwing it over her shoulder.

    "I take it your 'walk' was eventful," a raspy voice called out behind her.

    Her head fell to her chest, as she turned around to see Illia staring at her firmly. A single eyebrow raised, it seemed Eruanna's actions had offended her in some way... again. The young woman had always been the blunt, unimpressed type, regardless of the situation or any person involved.

    "Yes," Eruanna spoke in a sigh, not entirely thrilled with the tone the woman brought with her, "and to answer your next question, yes I am headed out. And the next; no you are not going to be left in charge this time Illia. Milene is not only older, but more experienced than you are. You'd be wise to take my decisions in stride, because no matter how high you raise that little brow of yours, my decision is not changing."

    "Come on!" Illia raised her voice in protest, "Milene is always hopped up on her mushrooms and flowers, she couldn't lead a healing circle adequately if you were right there guiding her through it Anna!"

    "I resent that," Milene's voice called from just atop the hill Eruanna had descended just moments before.

    Eruanna looked to the sky in bewilderment, and frustration combined. "Milene is in charge," she said sternly, "and that's all I have left to say in the matter. If you have a problem with that, take your things and go start a circle of your own Illia. I'm through bickering with you every single time I am called away."

    Before Illia could even utter another word, Eruanna turned her back to the lass, interrupting whatever bitter point she may have had prepared next.
    Then on her way she went, guiding stone in one hand, map in the other. Her thoughts now back to focusing on the feelings that had filled her in her vision, honing it through the point of the clear quartz crystal. Her focus so intense, in fact, that she almost couldn't hear Milene call out to her.

    "Eruanna, before you go, I need to know," she started, matching her pace, "is it your sister?"

    The question shot through her focus like an arrow most true. She gritted her teeth tightly enough to feel her muscles begin to shake her mandible. For some reason Milene, of all people, could not let go of Eruanna's sister. Her sister, not anybody else's but her's. Her denial of what happened to her months ago, though understandable, was the last thing Eruanna needed to be thinking about right now on top of all the stresses and responsibilities she was left with.

    "Kyra is dead, Milene," she hissed, burning her gaze into Milenes delicate Bosmer eyes, "So no. It isn't. Take care of the girls while I am gone, okay? And take care of yourself, more importantly. No more using reagents to self medicate, you need to face this just like the rest of us. You don't want her spirit to get lost in the transition do you?"

    The mer's head shook softly, then looked at the ground.
    "You're right. I'm sorry I am such a disappointment to you all. I'll be better, I swear it."

    The words yanked at Eruanna's heart as soon as they met her ears.
    "Milene," she started, dropping what was in her hands to pull the woman into her arms tightly, "You would never disappoint me, muffin. Or any of us for that matter. We just want what is best for you, just like you want the best for me, and the rest of us, alright? There is no reason to apologize, just keep your head up. Focus on the ritual tonight, and focus on it like you never had before, it'll help more than your concoctions ever will. I promise. I will be back soon, promise you will take care of each other while I'm away?"

    She separated herself from Milene, without taking her hands off her shoulders.; only letting go and picking up her map and crystal once she got a nod out of her. Eruanna glanced back at Illia, who was now joined by Liyara and Uzakai, then back at Milene who's eyes burned red with tears.

    "Promise?" She asked again, to both Milene and the three others, all bowing their heads in agreement before surrounding Eruanna in their arms.

    "I love you all," she added once again, before breaking free.

    "We love you too, Anna," Illia replied, still raspy but with a soft expression upon her face, "Come back safely, and come back swiftly. We miss you already."

    A soft smile graced her face, before turning her attention back to the stone and map, and turning her back on her family. She felt her eyes well up for a moment, before emptying their contents onto her cheeks. She hated to leave them behind, but she had work to do. Work her sister taught her, that was more important than she was. Eruanna closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, focusing her emotional thoughts into the crystal as well as the memory of the feelings of the vision. She would find this wounded soul, and she would help him no matter what it took. She would heal his soul.
     
    • Winner Winner x 3
    • Like Like x 1
  15. thatguy2

    thatguy2 Member

    Joined:
    Nov 13, 2016
    Messages:
    52
    Likes Received:
    5
    Reputation:
    70
    The flames danced across the building. He heard one of the other guards cry out, "Fire! Fire!" Erik raced over, noticing that the house burning was his own.

    "sh**!"he cried out. He bashed in the burning door with his foot, rushing inside. He saw his parents and his sister inside the building, unconscious. He tried to pull them out as a log fell down from the ceiling on top of him as everything faded to black.

    "Erik." The quiet words seemed to ring out in the room as Alvor held Erik close."You alright?"

    "Yeah. Just a bad dream I suppose. The same one I've been having."

    "You can't change the past, Erik. I am so sorry for what happened, but you can't change the past."

    "I know. It's just that something's been on my mind that I want to tell you. I want to be a father alongside you."

    "Alright then. Let's start trying to adopt tomorrow."

    Sent from my Nexus 6 using Tapatalk
     
    • Like Like x 1
    • Winner Winner x 1
  16. DropTop

    DropTop Member

    Joined:
    Dec 8, 2016
    Messages:
    42
    Likes Received:
    21
    Reputation:
    49
    "Move along Khajiit. We've made it clear you can do business near the stable." The guard center of the gate spoke in a monotone, robotic voice. Glaring his dangerously sharp pearly whites, Kharjiir trekked his way down the path leading to the stable eyes apparently focused on nothing...just the ground.

    To describe the rarity of a Cathay-Raht khajiit outside his home of Elsweyr is like drawing the pathway up High Hrothgar with a stick in dirt. He had nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth always, for he had nothing. Not even the dirt between his toes was his. Just the rag tag bunch he had traveled with for the past three years. He was the groups body guard and carriage. All the heaviest items were placed on Kharjiir's broad shoulders and made slight work of. So his purpose wasn't divine, it wasn't a journey like most would call theirs. Kharjiir spent hours upon hours leaving his group during night hours and walking the roads ahead of them, searching for a sign of some sort. Something that may give him a real...purpose. Every time, no matter what, he came to the same conclusion. It was unfair.

    And before he knew it he had arrived to his destination. Stopping in his tracks, he took a moment and looked back up that road.

    "One day." He whispered in a voice so melodic, producing an irony, like that of thunder during a sunny day. His voice, seemingly handcrafted by the gods to make up for their unfair treatment, was his only safe haven. It soothed his torn spirit, it reminded him of his father. He spoke to himself often, for many reasons but most commonly because he had no one else to talk to. But just a smoothly as it left his lips it was cut off by a blade of a voice.

    "Kharjiir! What is wrong with you?! Approaching the city like that, get your a** back over here and set up the tent!" A voice hissed, approaching swiftly and planting themselves directly in his face. Kharjiir winced at the high pitched whine, and his ears flattened themselves on his head. "Always away from the group! What did Khayla tell you, strength lies within the group! You are mince meat once you take two steps from this caravan you hear!?"

    Kharjiir didn't respond, just followed orders and began towards the place where they would set camp. He traveled with the caravan owned by Ri'saad. Their route was Markarth and Whiterun, and they not dare involved themselves with the other holds as other caravans had rightfully claimed those routes. Their was a sort of general respect amongst the caravan's. Other Khajiit werent given the same hospitality. The ruling was almost true, most khajiit did shiv you right in the back when you weren't looking. Khayla was the guard before he arrived, and she wasn't happy when her position and half her belongings were subtracted due to a larger cousin making home to the group. She yelled at him every chance she had to perhaps let Ri'saad know she was still in charge. Clothing, warming, and feeding a giant like Kharjiir wasn't easy. But with the growing threat the roads of Skyrim possessed, they needed a giant to defend them. Bears were taking a likeness to travelers, and they simply didn't have the strength to continuously fend off these beasts. So fight fire with fire they thought. It took a huge burden off their shoulders.

    So Kharjiir began placing poles in the ground and setting up their main canopy where they would sell their goods. It was always his job to do so. For now he'd be in a state of neutrality, but as soon as he was left alone with nothing to do, that fire would ignite once again. Lost in his own thoughts he'd be, and that wasn't a safe place for anyone....not even himself.
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
  17. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    Hearing the voice of another, Valencia's blue eyes left the pages of her book as they met with a woman's. "Ah yes; t'was a favorite of mine as well. I still long to reminisce to the first time I read it..." the knight's voice trailed of sweetly, deciding to stop herself from rambling on. She continued to greet the auburn-haired woman with her gentle smile. "My pendant? Ah; it was given to me by a few family friends. I am not sure of its creator, sadly." With a nod of the head, the white-haired young woman heard the Breton male speak once again, gaining her attention once more. She did not dare speak more of her pendant, as she did not want to completely reveal her knightly state and closeness with royalty. It tended to rub others the wrong way, to her disappointment.

    "I find having a plethora of genres more suitable for myself: from comical tales to harrowing adventures to romantic fantasies, I find interest in many books I can find." Her response was not to defer his own, but rather keep the conversation flowing. However, she could easily spot the growing tension between the somewhat flirtatious male and somewhat cold female. Not wanting to cause a much larger issue, the woman kept her own mouth shut, hoping for the thick air to blow away.

    The sass that bellowed from the mouth of the aurburn-haired woman was enough for Valencia to almost slip a chuckle - luckily, she did not. It was close call. She was very interested though, in the fact that the woman was too a merchant. Valencia certainly kept her ways as a knight, and had an abundance of coin left and constantly shipped to her: however, she was a defined trader due to her travels. Hence her reason for purchasing a home in Whiterun. "I agree. That's one of the reasons why I purchased a home here. It really is a fine place for trading. I'm surprised I've never seen you before around here. Must be my lack in observations recently."

    The blue-eyed woman was in fact, very observant: perhaps extremely. In recent times though, with the trouble rising exponentially in Skyrim, she has found herself more busy with travels and trying to help others with their own issues. Thus, she has less time to actually sit down on a bench and observe any changes or new things going on. Then again, it could be just simple timing that has left the woman unseen by her prior.

    To her delight, the woman apologized to the male, giving her name. It was a beautiful name really, and by with the negativity dissipated, Valencia's sweet smile returned.
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
  18. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    Despite her fear in the intimidating male, the young woman was surprised to hear the stammer slip its way out of his mouth and into her ears. Quite frankly, she was confused: did he suffer a natural stutter? Or was something wrong? It certainly caught her attention as her indigo eyes gave a quick glance to the male before averting away. Did he wear a smile, or was it her eyes playing tricks on her? Whatever the case, she was not worried: it seemed forced, but also weak, as if the smile was more for his own reassurance than his own.

    To her, she was quick to find that her presence was an issue to the other. By then, she was absolutely dumbfounded and discombobulated: that taller, stronger, powerful man was somehow timid and bothered by her presence? She even began to question if he held fears of closeness to others or perhaps even women...

    Eydis' eyes continued to glance back and forth between the sky and the male strategically: hopefully not noticeable by him, so he isn't bothered. Despite his demeanor, she did not want to upset him to the point where he lashed out on her. She was still cautious, but felt horrible that she was causing visual discomfort to the male. It was her goal in life to help others. His inability to stand still after her appearance was reassuring enough that she was a problem; which saddened her. However, she was willing to fix the situation.

    Suddenly, he spoke, breaking the deafening silence between them. His statements were broken up: pauses between them. This she did not mind, because it let her know that he was attempting to fix the situation as well. A gentle and calming smile reappeared on the female's face, her indigo eyes now staying on the male beside her. "I agree with you." Her voice was just as sweet and calm as her smile, as she hoped it would calm the male beside her.

    She removed her eyes, letting him know that she was not intending to stare at him and make him uncomfortable. "The rain is the peace of the lands: the storms are its destructive beauty. It certainly takes out attention elsewhere; somewhere simpler." Her eyes watched the rain pour in front of her, her shivering pretty much gone. Silence returned, but this time, more welcoming. To Eydis, it was a peaceful silence: one that other could enjoy listening to the rain without feeling the need to speak. Although, she was hoping to have some sort of interaction with the stranger. "Thank you for letting me stay under this ledge. Nirn needs more people like you." Her voice was still sweet, but her eyes did not look to the male: she did not want to overwhelm him with herself.
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
  19. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Herald of Glory. Faas Dinok.

    Joined:
    Oct 30, 2012
    Messages:
    1,812
    Likes Received:
    512
    Reputation:
    411
    As the heavy downpour filled the falls with a slight fog, Kyneth could feel the mist entering his nostrils with each natural breath. Along with it, the natural smell of the rain, which continued to set his mind at ease. There was something off about this moment, however, as he was now completely at ease in the presence of this stranger. However, this abnormality was not jarring or frightening to him, but rather it gave him a small sense of pride. Was he no longer afraid of the company of strangers?

    Okay, good work Kyneth. You can actually stand to be around another person... for once. Too bad it's just the high of the smoke getting you through this, cause you know otherwise I wouldn't be so civil.

    Kyneth let his eyes drop to the ground, just beyond the edge of the tower. It took him a moment to adjust his vision, as he tried to make out the detail of the grass beneath the mist. He glanced back up at the girl, who's eyes met his for a brief second before darting back to the clouds above. He imitated the very same action, and felt his heart start to beat a little faster.

    She's more afraid of you than you are of her, you fool!

    "I agree with you," her voice met his ears, interrupting his thoughts, "the rain is the peace of the lands; the storms are it's destructive beauty. It certainly takes our attention elsewhere, somewhere simpler."

    Or not...

    The silence that followed her voice this time, seemed to be almost warm - calming even. It surrounded him, and filled his heart and mind with a sense of almost impenetrable ease. Something he had never experienced with the other inhabitants of Tamriel's cruel and unforgiving lands. Often times, the people reflect the places in which they live and come from, and more often than not those places were not the nicest or at all forgiving. With this in mind, he could only imagine the kind of place this girl had come from; and it worried him. What was such a graceful and calm soul doing in such a harsh and terrible environment?

    Who is she? And what in void's name is she doing out here?

    Kyneth turned his body toward the woman, preparing himself to initiate more conversing with the very same question, but she beat him to it without taking her attention from the increasingly violent storm above. "Thank you for letting me stay under this tower. Nirn needs more people like you."

    What?

    "What?" He blurted out - almost in unison with his inner-self, reeling in surprise by his sudden outburst, "I - I mean... um what do I mean. I'm sorry, I umm - I don't tend to uh, talk to many people..."

    Nice save there big guy, now what are you gonna do? There's no way she's gonna want to talk to you now!

    "I don't think any world needs more people like me, I mean," he looked at his feet, letting his arm instinctively reach up to his hair for comfort, "What... um... what are you uh, doing out here? The Reach, I mean. It's not really the safest of places, what with the uh - madmen raiding the cities and whatnot."

    Why? Because a woman can't take care of herself if she's wearing a pretty white dress? What even are you? You better correct yourself, and you better get that damn pipe back out or I'm gonna start getting angry!

    "Not that you can't take care of yourself, or anything," he almost chuckled, nervously, trying to correct himself, "It's just that, you know. You're so... and you're not in armor... you're not even armed."

    Oh good lord, man. Why must you keep talking? You JUST had it, then you go and screw it up by putting your damn foot in your mouth. This is why we don't talk to strangers, Kyneth. You should-

    "I'm sorry," he interrupted his own train of thought, "I don't mean to imply anything or be rude. I just... this place isn't exactly the safest of places is all."

    Better.... now get your pipe out. Unless you want to actually scare her away you need to get more control of yourself, Kyneth.

    Kyneth stared at her for a moment blankly, then turned his body to pull his pipe back out of one of his pouches, as well as his herbs, and flint. Turning his attention back to the sky, he calmly packed the pipe full of the dried plant then tucked the reed back away, his muscle memory taking control of his actions without him having to think about it. He took the end of the pipe in his mouth, and raised his flint and steel up to strike and light it's contents, but paused in brief contemplation.

    "You... don't mind, do you?" he asked blankly, without looking at her, or even wavering in his gaze at the sky, "it helps me... um... relax."
     
    • Winner Winner x 1
  20. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2016
    Messages:
    157
    Likes Received:
    53
    Reputation:
    113
    Rain: oh the feelings it brought. It was diverse; children saddened, adults relaxed. At least, that was the average response. After she spoke though, her eyes widened slightly, and her head turned to face the male once again after his secondary stammer. It then progressed to a third, fourth, fifth, consistent rambling.

    The words he chose... his diction... his tone... they were all easy for the young woman to understand. She knew very well from the beginning he did not speak to others often. Her skills in speech were high: how else could she calm others? Words were important. The way the male's hand reached for his hair was yet another signal of discomfort. Looking for something calming.

    His rambles then switched to the next subject; her presence in such a place. Every word that managed to escape his lips let Eydis acknowledge his lack in communication skills. He would retort his own statements for the sake of not wanting to offend her or make any irrational presumptions... all of which, he was emphasizing by his own irrational speech patterns.

    The entire time he rambled, she watched the male calmly: not with a judgmental stare, but a listener's watch. She desired to prove she was of no harm to him mentally, and that she wanted a calmness to fall over him. She thought briefly about using a calming spell, but decided against it, as that could potentially make matters worse.

    Once he finished speaking, she gave a warm and gentle smile to him. "I do not mind at all." Her voice was her usual: airy, light, and gentle. She let her indigo eyes leave him, giving him another chance to relax. It was simple practice. Her orbs watched the rain before she spoke once again, answering his rambling questions in a calm manner.

    "I understand the dangers of this world clearly. I have no armor, yes. I carry only the knowledge of spells, a plethora of potions, and a single dagger." She paused once again, letting the rain soothe the atmosphere. "I am never offensive; rather, defensive. Even then I try my best to use calming spells, then perhaps an invisibility potion, before retreating. So far, it's been a successful plan."

    Her eyes then met with the male once more, a sweet smile still adorning her face. "It is my belief that I must help others. I travel to heal. Whether I heal travelers or those in the towns across the lands, I do what I can to make this world a peaceful and more enjoyable place." Her eyes left him again, looking down below her. "Of course, it is such a foolish dream to even fathom such peace... but if I an help one person even, it makes every journey worth it. It's silly of me, but I enjoy helping others. So while I am scared of so many things, as long as I help those who need aid, I will face those fears. I am weak, yes: but strong of heart, certainly."

    Finally her indigo orbs met with the rain again, a smile still living upon her lips. "From what I've seen: Nirn does need more people like you. I may not know you or your past, but from our interactions here, it lets me know that you still have kindness somewhere within you. Never let yourself believe you are lowly."
     
    • Winner Winner x 1

Share This Page

  • Like us on Facebook