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18+ The Last Dragonborn

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

  1. The Phantom

    The Phantom Consulting Criminal

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    The night was black and the hunter was hungry. Revus Sailaron, a Breton whose usually handsome and lean features struck men and women alike, looked like death. His face had sunken in so far his burning, golden eyes seemed to protrude from their sockets and at a first glance one would likely attribute his appearance to being a draugr who had wandered down from the crypts of the ancient Nords. His body too appeared decrepit and skeletal, his armour hanging loosely around him with no sign of muscle on this pathetic creature. However Revus was no mere draugr but another form of undead, a creation of Molag Bal, Daedric Lord of Domination. The Breton was a vampire, and he was starving.

    He had crossed the Falkreath border into Skyrim from Hammerfell but an hour earlier and now lay waiting in the dense woods of Falkreath. 'Twas a long and arduous journey that had led to this moment, beginning in Valenwood. He had been hunting and researching the vampire clans there. The only information he could find in literature was that of the journal, "Trap", the chronicle of the first vampire, "Opisculae Lamae Bal" and the most useful book, "Immortal Blood" in which multiple clans were found to be detailed. Since his turning Revus had made it his mission to learn all he could on the nature of vampirism and thus travelled Tamriel, assassinating clans and strays alike after his interrogations of them. He had hoped at first that he would be able to somehow learn or absorb the powers of the other bloodlines but it turned out to be a fool's errand. He had once heard an old phrase that "there is power in blood" and this appeared to be especially true to someone of his disposition. From his studies he had concluded that almost all the vampires afflicted in Skyrim can be traced from what was called the "Volkihar" bloodline. While it seemed impossible at the time to gain new powers, he had found out that he could enhance his current ones. While an aged vampire would naturally grow in power, Revus felt he would rather empower himself sooner than a few hundred years. In Valenwood, he stalked the Bonsamu, Keerilth, Yekef and Telboth clans who each had unique abilities such as revelation only in candlelight, mist form, the power to swallow creatures whole and to kill and replace men and mer alike, respectively. He managed to find at least one of each and torture them until they finally relinquished their rituals to him and were slain.

    As a descendant of the Volkihar bloodline, he boasted little to no exceptional powers, however he did have supernatural speed, strength, reflexes and the ability to seduce the minds of the living who had the misfortune to look him in the eyes. Using the rituals he had learned from the other clans and a large amount of blood drained from lowly victims he had managed to enhance these abilities beyond that of a regular vampire, effectively ageing him into a vampire master, granting him strength, speed and reflexes too much for most mortals to cope with. There was however, a caveat to this. He found that during the day he was weaker than the average mortal, and while the sun would not destroy him, it prevented him from recuperating to any extent, leaving him vulnerable to attack. This has led him to disguise his vampirism and keep it secret for fear of attack during the day and thus his official occupation to most who meet him is that of a vampire hunter in order to explain his knowledge of the subject. While well fed, Sailaron was almost indistinguishable from a mortal aside from his sharp canine teeth, though after going more than four days without feeding, he would begin to shrivel into the form with which he stalked the woods of Falkreath.

    The one thing that Revus felt separated him from most mortals and immortals was his iron will. It was this, seemingly supernatural power that had allowed him to traverse the sands of Hammerfell with scarcely a sign of blood; it was this power that made it so easy to enthral the minds of mortals and it was this power that enabled him to wait. Revus waited, patiently and quietly, for prey to walk the roads of Falkreath Hold at night. To those passing through, all they could see was three feet in front of their eyes with help from a burning torch, praying that nothing ambushes them. To Revus, it was as if the night were day. In the darkness there was nothing that could escape his vampiric gaze, much as an eagle looking down on the Earth observes even the smallest prey, so too could Revus see a Nord noble-woman and her bodyguard stumble helplessly along the dark path in the distance. Moving slowly from the forest and onto the road, Revus began to stalk his way towards them, seeing their every step in the night as they approached, blissfully unaware of their fate. Within a few seconds he was within audible distance as they heard his footsteps approaching "Who goes there?", rang the words of the bodyguard, only to be met by the deathly silence of the forest and the slow dragging of the vampire's boots on the stone path. Again he called for answers and squinted to see who was approaching and again the darkness of the forest betrayed him as Revus stood perfectly still, awaiting them to come to to him.
    "
    Allow me to introduce myself, gentleman and fair lady. I am Revus Sailaron, I am injured and afraid to make this journey alone anymore" The vampire rasped as loudly as he could project to them
    "
    What came to harm you, man?"
    They drew ever closer as Revus exclaimed "
    A vampire... he tricked me"
    "
    What manner of trickery, traveller? What did it do?"
    "
    Come to me and I shall tell you but stay quiet until you arrive lest our voices lure it back." And with that, Revus waited for his prey to arrive and as the body guard held his torch long in front of his face, he finally glimpsed the macabre figure of Revus who promptly smacked the torch out of his hand and stomped it out, leaving them all in complete darkness. The noble-woman clung to her bodyguard who unsheathed his blade and, trembling, attempted to threaten the predator with naught but his words "Come out and face me like a man, creature of the night! The power of the divines will protect me!", however his voice cracked as his fear in all its honesty made itself apparent to the Breton who circled his prey like a wolf who knows he's already won his prize but just enjoys the thrill of the hunt. Revus then closed in on his victims, positioning himself within a foot of the bodyguard's face. He paused for a moment, revelling in his victory before casting the magelight spell to illuminate things for the mortals, making eye-contact as he always did as both a matter of strange courtesy and assertion "Lament not for the loss of your own life, your blood is far more useful to me than it is for you. Besides, there was nothing you could have done." with that he pulled the man into his embrace and sank his teeth deep into his neck, quickly draining the life, the blood rejuvenating and restoring Revus to his full glory as they seemed to swap appearances until the guard was nothing but a husk.

    The immortal let go as the corpse dropped to the floor, exposing the noble-woman. She was very beautiful with long brown hair and a revealing, low cut dress with gold trimmings that was covered by a fur cloak to keep her warm through the night. She was obviously rich, that much was evident and it became clear to Revus that this woman might be more useful to him alive in more than just to keep him company. He closed the distance between them as she stood petrified with fear as he put his finger to her lips and looked her in the eyes intensely, imposing his will on the elegant Nord
    "
    Shh, dear, relax. It's okay, you can trust me."
    "
    I, I, relax. I can trust... I can... I can trust you." She said, resisting more than most but her mind still breaking under the pressure as her mind became a slave to the now handsome vampire before her
    "
    Good, your mind and body are mine now."
    "
    Yours now."
    "
    What is your name, and where are you from, my dear?"
    "
    I am Hellen Andelson of Whiterun though my family are from Markarth."
    "
    Hmm, and your status?"
    "
    Very wealthy and known." Revus smiled to himself, as it dawned on him that this lady was his ticket into two major cities of Skyrim. He cupped her face with his hand and then softly spoke again
    "When I tell you to, you will pass out, wake again and forget everything that just happened and that you ever had a bodyguard."
    "Yes, forget."
    "And instead you will remember me as your lover and protector whom you adore and serve."
    "Adore and serve you, my lover."


    Revus, still holding her chin, sensually kissed her and told her to sleep as he slowly lowered her to the ground and awaited her awakening. As she awoke, he explained to her that she had fainted after a vampire attacked them but he, in his heroics, had saved her life. For a moment she stood there, dazed and sleepy before finally returning to her senses. She thanked him and told him that she would really love to finish their journey to Whiterun. However, as they observed each other, illuminated only by the magelight, the two gazed at each others bodies for the first time. Both struck by the beauty of the other, they drew closer until Revus couldn't contain his passion anymore and bit her. Hellen unstrapped his armour and dropped her dress with her cloak as the two began to kiss furiously against the trees before they fell to the ground and lost themselves in their passion.

    Before too long the pair were finished and while Hellen wanted to stay and take in the stars but Revus could not afford to wait for the sun to return so far from shelter. Despite her protests, she obeyed her master as she robed herself and her vampiric lord too equipped his armour and weapons. The two then began to walk through the woods of Falkreath towards the plains of whiterun around the mountains but just as they were about to cross into Whiterun Hold, another Nord female, this one in farming attire seemed to be walking towards them. Revus tensed, something was wrong, he saw no one with her and seemingly no obvious tells of any cause to be travelling in the area. He paused, unflinching as his mind processed the possibilities. It was a very rare position for Sailaron to be in where he didn't feel aware of everything going on. He sensed blood and
    there is power in blood he thought to himself, and there was definitely power in the blood approaching him and his newfound thrall. Tentatively, he held an arm out and gestured for Hellen to take a few steps back as he walked forward to confront the woman.

    Revus scanned her up and down, as two competing lions would before they attack each other to fight for supremacy, Revus too absorbed every detail from the woman. She was tall, taller than Revus in-fact, with long, muscular legs and broad shoulders and a harsh yet attractive face and blonde hair that, together, made her seem quite appealing. Making eye-contact, Revus planned to diffuse any situation by merely enthralling her, too tempted to give up the opportunity to satisfy the flesh with such a striking woman. Yet when she stopped in front of him, he could tell that something was wrong, her soul was absent from her eyes. They were glassy, but not like the eyes of a broken mind or thrall, these were the eyes of a killer. For a moment they just stared into each other's eyes not as lovers but as rivals. Despite this, something about the dead eyes made it seem as though this woman was not a true killer but was instead not in control of her mind somehow. Attempting to impose his will and avoid conflict, he ordered "You will serve me and kneel." as she then fell to her knees and grabbed her head, seemingly in agony. It became clear to the vampire that this was not an effect of his seduction but of whatever was afflicting her. Approaching closer, he knelt down too and whispered the command in her ear once more but could see that she was violently shaking. Looking up at him, her eyes had changed into that of an animal's and Revus jumped back and drew his blade while she began to scream so dreadfully that even Hirsine would be ashamed. A look of humanity washed onto her face for a moment as she whimpered one sentence
    "
    Run or I will eat you." to which Revus quickly joked
    "
    Hey, at least buy me a drink first." prompting one final, pained laugh from the Nord.

    Whatever was left of the woman's mind and soul abandoned her in that moment as the beast took over, twisting her body into a hunch while her limbs and musculature extended considerably. She swung her arms, knocking Sailaron back and over as she finished the transformation. When Revus had returned to his feet, across stood a beast that, despite his travels, he had never encountered before. He was very interested in just how challenging this would be. In his studies of vampirism, Sailaron had stumbled across some accounts of lycanthropy, most notably "Physicalities of Werewolves" in regards to which he was amused by how accurate the descriptions were. The vampire and werewolf both circled each other but before it was time for blade to meet claw Revus cast a flesh armour spell to prepare him more for the brunt of the brute's attacks. Revus attacked first, closing the distance with vampiric speed and attempting to slash at the werewolf's stomach but the beast too had supernatural capabilities and caught Revus with a claw across the chest as he attempted to retreat following his strike, cleaving through his leather chest piece and only just not breaking the skin, the impact still causing him to stumble back. Before he could react further, the lycanthrope charged him, knocking him down and the duel-sided blade out of his hands as he mounted him. The wolf started to rain down claw strikes on him which Revus attempted to defend with his bracers and arms, cutting him severely before Revus reached up and pulled the wolf close to him to remove the space in which the beast needed to strike. Then, reaching into his pocket he grabbed his dagger and plunged it into his adversary's ribs, causing her to emit a deafening howl. Seizing the moment, Revus pulled the dagger out and pushed her off of him, scrambling to his feet and grabbing his signature weapon once more. Waiting for the werewolf's assault to renew, he timed a counterstrike as the wolf leapt at him, rolling underneath the slash and striking upwards with the blade into her jaw before following through across the chest, stunning her. Pressing the attack, he entered the pocket and slashed quickly, eating the lycanthrope's own strikes as he landed his before managing to find a gap in the beast's defence and cut open its neck. It fell to the ground with a thud as its body shut down while Revus too fell to his knees, badly cut all over his body.

    Catching his breath, he stared at the blood of the now deceased supernatural being and began to drink. He felt the blood replenish him as his cuts began to heal themselves. The vampire had found the situation somewhat amusing being at a physical disadvantage at night, albeit exhausting and knew the sun was soon to rise and another encounter like that would be the end of him. He saw Hellen trembling not far away and calmed her down before decapitating the werewolf and displaying its head on a tree by the side of the road to warn travellers and any other of its kin to steer clear. With that, he began to finish his journey, eventually arriving at the gates of Whiterun with his thrall on his arm.
     
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  2. DropTop

    DropTop Member

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    After the canopy was set, Kharjiir was given his freedom. He sat beside a dim fire, dazed by the flickering orange waves that matched the color of his thick fur pelt. Ri'saad took seat in front of the canopy on a handmade blanket awaiting customers to walk by. It was a pretty dull morning, all the activity appeared to be going on inside the city.

    "Come take a look at Ri'saad's goods! Finest you'll find on the roads of Skyrim!" Ri'saad repeated this statement every time someone was within range of his voice. It went right in Kharjiirs ear and out the other from hearing it so often. Half the time people didn't approach to buy goods, but to get a closer look at the large cat. He was more of a show than anything else. People wondered how a khajiit could grow so big. What they didn't know however, was how fast he was. Tales of Cathay-rahts told they are nearly as agile and strong as a werewolf. The stories were true.

    As Kharjiir pondered over the fire amongst his fellow cousins, a couple made their way towards the gate. His heightened sense of smell caught such a stench of blood it overwhelmed him and he swore he could taste it. He turned to see what was the cause, perhaps a fresh kill, or a group of soldiers with blood ridden clothing. Or perhaps, what he wasn't expecting, a man and a woman arm in arm. His pupils became like sleeves of black and auburn, focusing intently on the couple. Saliva began to accumulate in his mouth as his heart rose ever so slightly in rhythm. This wasn't any ordinary man. Three years on the roads of Skyrim accustomed Kharjiir to its offerings, and this particular person wasn't just any ordinary man. Kharjiir had an idea, just an idea, of who he was. He stood to give notice to this couple who they were passing. Making someone feel as though they were a toddler compared to Kharjiir was an easy task for him. It was an act of intimidation but not a threat. He lifted a hand to his right shoulder, pressing his thumb firmly into his thick front delt. He repeatedly guided his thumb along the muscle alleviating any stress, eyes still locked on the approaching couple. Kharjiir had always played games with people's attention, forcing it somewhere other than his eyes. It was a way to gain advantage over someone, always be one move ahead of them. Kharjiir was a master with body language, for he didn't have to use his voice often, and since body language is 55% of communication it was easy for him to control someone's focus. In his mind, if he was going to be a show for the common folk, then he better make some use of it. Perhaps however, they didn't see him yet or even notice him, but he sure did notice them.

    "Come take a look at Ri'saad's goods! Finest you'll find on the roads of Skyrim!" The old cat spoke as they passed. Kharjiir heard it this time, but wasn't expecting it. Ri'saad's senses clearly must've not been doing him any justice, for he blindly invited the two over. When Kharjiir took a glance amongst his crew however, they were on the same page as him yet fear took hold of their minds. Kharjiir showed not a hint of it, for his heart grew in pace not out of fear but excitement. These were the moments he lived for. Fear wasn't something Kharjiir was capable of. This probably was an illness, because fear is healthy in some cases. But Kharjiir couldn't know fear if it punched him in the face. His mind just didn't produce the expression. So with two steps he was away from the fire and standing like a tower beside the canopy and his dim witted leader, awaiting a reaction from the man and woman. Nothing would arise from this situation as they were only meters from the nearest guard station, but Kharjiir was simply curious. Curiosity is tenfold with cats.
     
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  3. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    Icy blue eyes met merchant’s forest green ones, hot faltering under her clearly hostile glare. He was curious to know what he had done to earn this attitude from the woman. The Breton was familiar with such disdain, but generally it was because of his reputation. It was almost refreshing to be hated for another reason, a light smile forming on the Bretons face as she continued her rant. She had a nice voice. He considered offering her the compliment, but she seemed to not like those too much. So instead he took a sip of his fresh cup of spiced wine, the savory liquid pouring over his taste buds, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he set it back down.

    “Now what’s wrong with flouncing dear lady? Everyone needs to flounce every now and then. Oh, and you forgot to add dashingly handsome to that description of the mercenary, at least in my own humble opinion.” A smirk played at his lips as he waited to see what the fiery merchants reaction would be, finding her hostile attitude rather amusing. Meanwhile the armored woman continued to be more than cordial, surprisingly not at all irked that two total strangers had interrupted what looked to be a quite relaxing morning. Hmph, lass seems to be sweeter than that Sweet Roll.

    “I see you have quite the varied tastes my lady. I enjoy a good adventure tale, but I prefer to live it myself. And judging by your armor, I’d say you have had your own share of adventures as well. As for the romance fantasies… Well as I said, I prefer to live such tales.” While the merchant may continue to scoff, he wasn’t necessarily over-exaggerating. He had campaigned against Orsimer raiders in the frozen reaches of Jehanna, hunted outlaws across Skyrim and delved into his fair share of ruins and caves.

    He remained silent as the two began to discuss market prices and trade, two things Rolard generally didn’t pay much attention to in general. He wasn’t a merchant, he was a warrior and he made his living with steel and flame. But merchants often offered decent paying contracts, something he often found himself in need of.

    He tuned back in when the merchant decided to quit being snide long enough to actually offer a greeting. “Oh, were you being rude? Hm, I hadn’t noticed.” His voice feigned innocence, acting as though they were just having a friendly conversation.

    “A beautiful name my Lady Sweetwater, my name is Rolard Seton. Adventurer, mercenary and explorer. I’m also told that I’m just wonderful company to have around as well."
     
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  4. Hart

    Hart Active Member

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    Ihylin looked back at the white haired woman and raised an eyebrow in question. "You own Breezehome? It's a lovely property, and frankly I'm a little jealous. It would be nice to have a home in the heart of the busiest trading hold in Skyrim. Or, at least a storage building with a spare bed, but I'm afraid that would be broken into while I'm traveling. Regardless, having shop set up in Solitude has done me well so far, what with the upperclass getting cosy with Jarl Elisif, especially after High King Torygg's death, Divines watch over his soul."

    She touched her fingers to her collarbone, muttering a short prayer. Absently straightening her bracers, she rubbed at a scar on her thumb. "I normally don't stay in the city for very long. In fact, this is probably the longest I've stayed in over a year now that I think about it... Hmm. Which reminds me, I should probably get back on the road, there's a storm coming. I was hoping I could be in Rorikstead before it hits."

    “Now what’s wrong with flouncing dear lady? Everyone needs to flounce every now and then. Oh, and you forgot to add dashingly handsome to that description of the mercenary, at least in my own humble opinion.”

    Snorting in laughter, the merchant couldn't believe her ears. He had bigger ego than any Jarl she had ever met, and that was saying something. Regaining her composure, she snickered quietly and looked up at him.

    "The only thing I see dashing about you would be imaging you dashing from a pack of rabid skeevers trying to eat your face off, and hopefully succeeding. Huh!" She stood, ignoring his obviously sarcasm and dropped a handful off coins into the open hand of the waitress, taking up the neatly packaged bag of food and uttering a thanks. Making her way towards the door, Ihylin briefly nodded at Elrindir, and turned to face the patrons of the tavern.

    "Then, Lord Seton and... Lady Ildrose, yes? If either of you are looking to make coin, I have a wagon that could use an escort up north for 800 gold pieces. I'll be around the gates for another hour or so, if you choose to take the job. If not, then farewell, and good luck in your endeavors in Skyrim."

    @Keidivh @Zelda
     
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  5. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Long-Dead Member

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    Before the girl even muttered out her response for consent of his medicating in front of her, Kyneth lit his pipe with a flick of his flint and steel. Thankfully she was okay with his smoking, as Kyneth feared what would transpire if he was not at least half in control. He took the puffs in his mouth, before taking in the smoke with a deep diaphragmatic breaths. Within a few deep, smoke and flavor filled draws, he found himself grow warm and relaxed again. A few more, and his head was floating with happy and poised focus. His voices were silenced, his heart light, and his mood happy and content. This was the baseline Kyneth had always wanted for his natural and normal attitude, however knew was impossible to accomplish without his spiritual herbal medicines.If not for the girls voice lifting his attention from the mere sensation of living, he would have devolved into nothing more than sheer inner, existential tranquility.

    "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," her tone light and as delicate as a monarch, "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."

    Of course she'd be a mage, how else would she be okay out in this world. We should move on, let the whelp continue to stumble around the world with the mad ramblings of power hungry cowards.

    "I am all too familiar with the benefits to fleeing, believe me," Kyneth chuckled light heartedly, feeding off of the girls gentle inviting grins in his direction, "When you do what I do - or did - or have done um, well, it's one of the very first things you learn when it comes to dealing with these vast and violent lands."

    What? WHAT? What are you saying, you idiot, she's gonna see you as a bloody fool and coward now!

    "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," the girl dropped her eyes, breaking the friendly eye contact for just a moment continuing, "Of course, it is such a foolish dream to even fathom such peace... but if I can 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."

    Too bad you're just the opposite, Kyneth.

    "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," the girls eyes moved up from the ground and back to the now violent storm that pillaged the terrain around him, yet somehow ignored their domain under the tower.

    Her final sentence fluttered from her lips, and graced his ears, staying for but a moment before completely sinking into his head. He has only had this type of open and welcoming presence from another but a few times. What he knew for sure, was each time they seemed to be more and more surprising. How could anybody be so good in a world so inherently evil - and better yet good to somebody so inherently doomed. Kyneth stared at the same storm ahead of the two, before letting his body drop to the stone floor beneath his feet to sit. Legs crossed, pipe in his hand and mouth, he continued to take in the savory smoke and looked up the woman. He hoped she would find a natural place sitting near him, as he was growing more content with their discussing.

    You are lower than just lowly Kyneth, and nothing will change that. Not even the ravings of a naive little doll of a woman. This is going nowhere!

    "You know," Kyneth started gently, "not many people I have come in counter with are as... open-minded and, um, what's the word - optimistic - about the world. They are few and far between. And every one of the few, have earned my appreciation and admiration. It's a rare gift, and should be treasured. I think I had kindness long ago, but it got lost on this lonely 'yellow-brick road' if you will."

    He could see the curiosity behind her eyes grow, despite the delicate smile that perched itself upon her youthful face. As much as he desired to continue, the agonizing itch that began the ravage his left forearm interrupted his very words. He glanced down at it's position set on his left knee, to see the gentle red tint of blood start to work it's way through the surface of his dark cloth sleeve. His eyes widened, and a huff of surprised breath left his chest, leading into a hearty cough as he choked on the smoke within his lungs.

    Kyneth attempted to hide his arm, and draped it down to set his hand on the ground next to him; his body shielding it from the girl's line of sight. "I don't think that if the world tries to prevent you from doing what you love, that it necessarily makes that dream foolish. It makes it a challenge. And everything good in this world worth doing, is going to be a challenge to do. Which makes a person grow more than anything else. And believe me that type of growth and wisdom is important."
     
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  6. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    "It is very similar to the Breezehome, yes. It's still for sale if you are interested though." The white-haired woman spoke, grinning, before she heard the woman speak of the High-King's death. She closed her eyes as well, whispering a small prayer in respect, before communicating once more. "Ah, that sounds lovely though. Solitude is such a beautiful place." She commented as she then gave another warm smile. "Well, you certainly do not want to get stuck in such a storm: the wilderness is dangerous enough without it!" she claimed, nodding her head.

    She herself had traveled far: from Wayrest to Whiterun was no easy quest. Of course, she had her desires to help the land, and soon return to Wayrest to serve as a knight once more. She did not have much longer in Skyrim, to be frank. She was surprised by her own long presence in the cold place. No matter the time, she was still happy for her 'changes' she's made. It was her duty to help those in need, and spread the awareness for the need of kindness and generosity among others.

    As the woman took another drink of water, she heard the most conceded statement her ears had yet to hear in quite the time! She managed to choke on her water by the vanity, coughing a bit as she grinned. He was absolutely smitten with himself! She held in laughter, clearing her throat from the beverage. How could such a person be so intoxicated with their very self...? She could barely believe the words that escaped his mouth. However, hearing the woman's statement is what finally made her chuckles escape.

    She had to give herself a moment to let them fade, nodding her head to the woman beside her. Her statement was definitely not wrong.
    "I have yet to hear such vainglory in quite awhile... I believe someone needs to be humbled... yes?" The words came from her mouth in almost a declaration of a challenge: one of her eyebrows raised and a small smirk formed on her lips. While she was joking, she had no doubts the haughty male would take the challenge out of spite and his need to defend his 'glory'. Valencia was quite skilled in the psychology of others; how else could she be such a successful knight?

    However, she played the simple game and tossed the sly challenge aside nonchalantly, facing the auburn-haired woman. A smile placed upon her face as she placed a hand on her chest and bowed slightly.
    "I would be delighted to aid you on your journey." With that she rose, grinning before continuing. "Going on a trip elsewhere always helps ease my spirit anyways."
     
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  7. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    The sounds of the rain was by no means relaxing; however, the young woman was seemingly unaffected by the violent weather that raged above them. There was no need to; she was safe under the tower, and surprisingly, near the stranger.

    As the male responded with his 'fleeing' stories, the blonde was overjoyed by his chuckle. It seemed a truthful chuckle to her, and she certainly was happy to hear it. It was sign; a sign of relaxation. Perhaps a bud of trust? Of course, assuming things was foolish, but she took notes on his behavior. She wanted him to be calm. This desire was a bit selfish, as well as selfless: she wanted him to feel better, as that would benefit him, and benefit her in the way that she is happy to help. He seemed so skittish with her presence prior, so she certainly felt accomplished with the conversation they held.

    However, as she explained her reasoning for her traveling and her statement of the male being kind, he reacted... unexpectedly. It was not surprising to her, but rather, she did not expect it. He seemed taken aback: as if he was surprised she said such a kind thing. As if it was one of the only kind things he had heard in quite the time. She watched him sit down, which she took note of.

    With his first statement, the indigo-eyed female still stood, looking down to him as he spoke. It was true: the world was filled with abominations of evil and darkness. It truly was a precious gift. Eydis was saddened though; for the male to state such kindness escaping him, it proved to her he was not an innocent. Despite his words, she knew there was still some sort of kindness within him, whether he believed it or not. The fact that she was still alive next to him, and that she was holding a pleasant conversation with him was proof enough he was not as barbaric and awful as he thought. It would take some time to prove it to him, but she certainly hoped she could convince him.

    Finally, she sat down next to him, her legs dangling off the edge. The mist of the rain hitting outer objects and floating inwards created small droplets on her dress where her legs hid. She kept her hands in her lap, turning to face the male as he spoke once more. While she did sit down and paid no attention to most of his movement, she did catch something of concern to her: he was hiding his hand.

    At first, she assumed it was nothing, but that would be ridiculous - what if it was a weapon? She certainly did not think so; he would've hurt her long ago. However, her curiosity was heightened as to what he was trying to hide. She averted her eyes as if she had not seen a thing, paying attention to what he said.

    His next words were sweet. Honestly, she was surprised that time. He was wiser than he looked, which brought a smile to her face as she looked away from him towards the storm. "Your words bring me joy." She finally spoke, still watching the storm. She paused, before speaking once again. "However, you say such terrible things of yourself... yet the words you say... they hold wisdom and kindness. While I know not much of you, your words tell me your thoughts. A man who says such things cannot be fully horrible... and the time you've shared with me is worthy of my praise."

    She turned her head to face him, her indigo eyes meeting with his. "Listen as I say this: do not take it lightly. You are kind to me. Whether you believe yourself to be or not, my words are of truth and truth only. You have gave me nothing but kindness; a terrible person would not waste their time in such a way. But you... you give me honest kindness. I know of no other you; and thus, my only judgement is that you are kind to me. However, you are unkind to yourself... Please: give your own heart kindness. It needs it." Her words were soft, light, and elegant, as usual. They were sweet: a smile still on her face. She truly hoped him the best.

    Eydis then rose slightly, her body facing the male as she sat on her knees. Her eyes could now see the hand: crimson rose through the bandages. Her eyes closed as she held out a hand to the male, before opening them and meeting her eyes with his once again. "Please: let me heal you." Her words were just as gentle as before. She wanted not to bother him, as he was seemingly skittish with people's presence, but she wanted to gain his trust. To let her help him. And she vowed in her mind not to move until he gave her his hand.
     
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  8. The Phantom

    The Phantom Consulting Criminal

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    "Come take a look at Ri'saad's goods! Finest you'll find on the roads of Skyrim!" Revus paused. He heard the unmistakable Elseweyr accent to the side of him and concluded that the caravan must be trying a scam, having him figured as just some rich nobel ripe for tricking. The vampire's eyes observed them and while all the other Khajjit were, to Revus, pathetic and unassuming creatures, there was one that stood out. A monstrosity of a Khajiit so large that, for just a moment, he thought it was another lycan. Sizing him up, he noted all the attributes he could and concluded that this freak of nature would be far too strong to even consider duelling during the day. Not that he was even considering fighting the cat, but travelling Tamriel had trained him to think of every possibility and threat in a situation.

    One thing Tailaron could not believe he had not noticed at first glance however was that all the Khajiit bar the giant seemed to have an air of fear hovering around them. He saw a nostril flair on one and it dawned on him that the beastfolk had senses on par with his own. They could smell the blood on him. Smiling, he began to walk over to the caravan, attempting to diffuse any possible exposure they might bring him.
    "
    Ah, just my luck, khajiit caravan here outside Whiterun! I must say I traded with a great many of your people in my travels through Tamriel and always found your services useful. The people of Skyrim truly do you and your kin a disservice. I warn you, my friends, last night my lover and I were attacked by creatures of the night in the Falkreath woods. We barely fought them off and I used the last of my healing potions to repair my wounds. You wouldn't have anything to help clean the scent of the blood, would you? Or at least any healing potions?"
    With that Revus shook the hands of the Khajiit while they processed his words and finally came time to shake the giants hand. The vampire extended his hand, fully braced and ready to endure the undoubtable strength of the specimen before him in order to assure them of his weak mortality.

    (Sorry for the lack of flare, I feel Droptop and I must plan this and I struck a writer's block so I apologise if this seems uninspired.)
     
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  9. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    When Ihylin brought up Solitude and the recent murder of the High King, Rolard couldn't help but feel a spark of rightful rage in his heart. He had never had the honor to meet the man during his travels as an ambassador of Akaire and even Wayrest at times, but he had been well respected and a just ruler. The way in which he died was an ugly and shameful event that showed what the Stormcloaks were at their heart. Opportunists and murderers, more like children throwing a tantrum than a true uprising. In what likely seemed to be an out of character act of piety the warrior made the symbol of Stendarr, the shape of the horn over his heart. "Stendarr guide his spirit to Aetherius, and through your righteousness let justice be achieved." It was a small prayer muttered under his breath, but heart felt nonetheless.

    He recalled travelling to the city in what seemed to be another life. It truly was a beautiful city, from the strong and elegant architecture, to the blue Palace itself. It was said to be the jewel of Skyrim, and only Whiterun could content with the ancient city in terms of being one of the most beautiful and enjoyable cities to visit in the Nordic homeland. "Ah Solitude. Home of the infamous Bards College and breathtaking Blue Palace. Not the easiest journey either, Nine watch over your path if you get caught in that storm dear."

    The Breton turned back to enjoy his meal and take another drink of his spiced wine, having to stop himself from spitting it up when the auburn haired merchant gave a rather pointed retort. Yet there wasn't the usual venom that he so often found when having normal conversation with others. It was rather refreshing oddly enough. After all it had been some time since someone has had enough with to offer him a verbal spar worthy of his time, and it seemed this woman was up to the challenge. Yet before he could offer a counter, she proceeded to leave the establishment, but not before offering a rather interesting offer. For a simple escort, a full 800 Septims? It was, well beyond generous really. Made him question what kind of merchandise she was really carrying. But then again, it did promise to make the trip a bit more interesting, and he was in need of the coin. Better yet, he would be able to learn more of this Dragonborn that was apparently travelling the breadth of the land. "You know what my lady, I may just have to take you up on that."

    His attention then fell on Valencia who still remained with him, cocking an eyebrow at her as she giggled at the exchange. And then she... Challenged him? Did she truly just do that? And in such a polite and adorable fashion as well. An bemused and surprised expression came across his face as he simply sat back in his seat. "Well now mi'lady. If I didn't know better I'd say you were offering me a challenge. Seems now I have no choice but to go, if only to prove my worthiness." He could understand where she was coming from, his rather self-glorifying persona rubbing many folk the wrong way. Yet it was something he needed to hold onto, to force others to acknowledge the masterful warrior he is, to remind them that being an Oathbreaker didn't take away from that. It was another change that oft sat ill with him, remembering a time when his deeds were enough to speak of who he was. He seemed to find less and less of that man as the days went by.

    He followed the two after taking care of his bartering with Elrindir, managing to force the Bosmer to come to a fair price for the fine furs, as well as the weaponry he managed to obtain from the bandits he had cut down during his trip. He managed to leave the store with a hefty pouch of Septims, enough to see him through this escort contract. He took a moment to bask in the mid morning rays, glad not to much time had slipped by as he sat in the warmth and comfort of the small tavern. Many more folk were in the streets now, vendors calling out slogans and special offers which would more often than not turn out to be a sh**e deal, but enough to garner a few passerby's attention.

    "Ah, what a glorious day to start a journey." While his tone was upbeat, it sounded strangely hollow, as though he were not able to find any true joy in this beautiful day, try as he might. "Well I'll have you wonderful ladies know that I've decided to grace this little expedition here with my presence." He said with an overly haughty grin, now simply baiting the two for his own amusement rather than being truly so self absorbed. "I have some matters I must attend to quickly in Jorrvaskr if you wouldn't mind. I assure you it will be but a moment." He didn't offer any further explanation than that before making the trek up the hill towards the Wind District and the legendary mead hall itself. He passed through the crowded streets seamlessly, most choosing to ignore warrior of ill repute rather than have to acknowledge his existence, although he felt the occasional cold stare from some of the more bold passerby's. He had hardened his heart as to not feel the sting of the gazes, and simply continued on his way. He passed by the mythic Gildergreen as he approached the hall to admire its divine beauty. It was saddening to see it in such a sickly state, and even the Priestess' seemed clueless as to what do. As he continued forward he could only hope something could be done to heal such a gift from the gods.

    Speaking of, he was soon approaching one of the only open shrines that remained to Talos, a priest boldly and proudly shouting out praises to the warrior god, and calling upon any and all to do the same. He himself stopped at the shrine, taking out his white ebony sword and placing the tip in the dirt as he knelt before the warrior god of man. While not one of the gods focused on in the Bretonic pantheon, he was one Rolard personally held in his heart as a true deity, even after the White Gold Concordat stated otherwise. Silently praying for blessing and offering praise to Talos, he eventually made his way up the final steps towards the mead hall, Jorrvaskr. It was an imposing building, holding a commanding view over the city. Only the house of the Jarl stood higher than this structure, yet it seemed to fall short in legend. Yet the hall was not his true destination, instead veering off towards the sheer rock face that held the Skyforge. Rather he entered the hidden Underforge, passing through the tunnel and into the chamber where he found himself surrounded by his fellow circle members. The twin warriors Farkas and Vilkas, the fierce huntress Aela, Skjor the Bold and of course their Harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane. Each of them turned to acknowledge the entrance of the Breton, only Kodlak and Aela not seemingly irked by his presence.

    "Shield-sibilings." His voice echoed through the dimly lit room, each offering their greeting in return.

    "Tch, I still can't believe we've let this Oathbreaker into our ranks. And to let him join the Circle without offering the gift?" Skjor had been against Rolard's joining the Companions since the beginning,condemning him as a dishonorable whelp unworthy of even standing on the grounds of Jorrvaskr. The only way he was able to join was by challenging the veteran warrior to an honor duel, stating that if he was the dishonorable man Skjor claimed him to be, the gods would see fit to have him be struck down. After a grueling duel that lasted a full hour, Rolard managed to strike down the mighty warrior, offering him mercy and earning acceptance into the vaunted brotherhood. He continued to prove himself to be a trustworthy ally, working his way into the ranks of the Circle with astounding speed. He was also the first to join that had not been infected with lycanthropy, refusing the curse with the support of Kodlak Whitemane and even the twins as well much to Aela and Skjors chagrin.

    "Well old man if ya like I can beat you into the dirt again to remind you why I am here." His voice remained cool and calm, an easygoing smile on his face whilst Skjors seemed to turn red with rage.

    "Why you insolent mongrel, I'll tear out your fluffing throat with my teeth." He snarled before Kodlaks hand came down on his pauldron, Skjor immediately calmed by the presence of their Harbinger and unwilling to dishonor him here.

    "You all know that Rolard here earned his place through blood and strength of arms, as is expected of any of us." Kodlak always was the voice of reason in the group, at least before Rolard arrived. But his voice was often drowned out by the ignorance of his fellows, and was lucky to count the venerated warrior as an ally and friend. He knew how difficult it must have been to accept one with his reputation, having killed many of his old brethren. But he had faith in the young noble. It was a feeling he had nearly forgotten til that point. "Tell us why you called us together Rolard."

    Stepping forward towards the center of the chamber, he looked around to each of his shield siblings before pulling out the letter he had received from the anonymous merchant, holding it high so as to garner everyone's attention. "I'd say my kin that it is evident why I have called you together. The Dragonborn of ancient legend apparently walks Skyrim, slaying dragons that are tearing out of the earth and absorbing their very souls. Yet as of now we have done nothing. Nothing about the Dragons that now plague so much of this land, nothing about this legend who for all we know will use this power for his own gain. Should we not take action to investigate this? To ensure the safety of this land." The room remained silent for some time after he spoke, the chamber becoming deathly still.

    "Well I'd say brother its clear why we haven't hunted any of these dragons. No one's put up a bloody contract for one, and the only one known about has already been killed? Are we to waste our time chasing rumors and hearsay?" Vilkas' stated strongly, the rest of the room seeming to agree with him. Aela's voice soon joined his in the dismissal of Rolard's concerns. "And of this Dragonborn, we have no evidence that he is a threat, and you would have the entirety of the brotherhood put their attention on this?"

    The entirety of the Circle seemed to share this, only Kodlak seeming to show any type of concern in regards to this, although Farkas seemed to not be entirely sure of where he stood. "Ugh. Well. I mean he did kill a dragon practically single handedly. Seems like something we might wanna watch out for." He was surprised to have gained even Farkas' support in the matter, minimal as it was. Though he wasn't sure if it was just because of his dimwit or Rolard's legitimate concerns, he wasn't sure.

    Kodlak finally stepped forward, seeming to have reached a decision on the matter that would appease to all of the Circle, as he was not the technical leader of the group, and while he held enough respect to command the Circle to do as he bid, he rarely if ever forced such a thing. "Well brother, it seems that many here are not convinced of the threat. Though myself and Farkas share this concern, we cannot commit the brotherhood to investigating this matter further. However I can say that you have full leave to pursue this concern, and I will ensure any and all reports of the Dragonborn or dragons in the land will be brought to you by those in the field."

    To be quite honest, it wasn't much he had gained from the Companions in terms of useful assistance. He knew he didn't really need permission to investigate the Dragonborn, and he would likely get very little useful information from those in the field, and if he did would likely take a great deal of time for him to obtain it. He hoped that someone would have at least learned something about this man (or was it woman?) but he wasn't event hat lucky. But at the very least he had official support from the brotherhood, and if he were to find true evidence as to the gravity of this threat, could likely bring the full might of the group to bear.

    "Well then, I will not take up any more of your time. I leave for Solitude in a few hours, and will continue my search there. Until then may Shor guide your blades my kin." Giving a curt bow, Rolard made to leave the dank and cramped chamber, stepping out into the fresh air and taking a deep inhale of it. For the time being he was on his own. At least in that respect nothing had changed.

    Stopping by Belethor's General Goods, he gathered a few more essentials for his trip before eventually reconvening with his two new travelling companions, offering them a bright smile. "So ladies, when do we depart?"

    @Zelda @Hart
     
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  10. Hart

    Hart Active Member

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    Ihylin was pulling her massive pack off the floor when both of them suddenly agreed to the escort contract, and she snapped her head up a little awkwardly and nearly dropping her cargo in surprise. A disgruntled look on her face, the auburn headed woman finally managed a word:

    "What?" The bottles in her bag clinked. Shouldering the pack with a grunt, she regained her composer, walking outside the shop with Valencia towards the front gates. Normally, it was a fight to even get a single soldier to see her out past the watchtowers, but now she had two warriors sitting on either side of her for the journey to Solitude? Glancing over at the knight-woman as they pushed through the gates, she cleared her throat.

    "My apologies if I seemed surprised, dear. Normally I have to haul through the wilderness to keep away from bandits, and it's exhausting. 'Suppose now we can take our time getting to Ivarstead. Which, if I assume goes well, we could be there, say... late afternoon? There's the issue of pay though, but I'll take care of that when Lord Seton pleases to show up." Pausing just outside the gates, Ihylin looked up at the covered wagon that had been parked right outside the walls.

    It was a quaint little thing, about the same size as a regular traveling wagon, yet instead of it being uncovered, a thick, dark blue top was stretched out over a frame. The entire thing enclosed, the little door on the back had stars carved into the wood. They traveled across the sides and crept up onto the canvas. If one had an attentive eye, you would see white specks representing stars trails off into the colored cloth, messily arranged into constellations that too dotted Kyne's great sky. Nevertheless, the merchant wasted no time getting ready to go, popping a compartment open on the side of the wagon that was otherwise hidden, storing her bottles of fine wine along with other higher class alcohols, and locking is shut again. From afar, the entire thing looked to be solid wood. A closer inspection show instead that the woodworking of the wagon was a fine one, and several compartments of varying sizes ran down its side.

    Despite her fidgeting for the journey ahead, not a horse was in sight, the tongue of the wagon propped up on two stray barrels. It wasn't until Roland showed his face outside the gate did she turn to face them both, brushing hair from her eyes.

    "Alright. I have enough room for the three of us, but someone will have to sit in the back. It's a livable space, just cramped. If I have to, I have the supplies to set up a camp for the night. Considering the inn usually only has one room open, that may or may not be the case." Realizing she was getting inquisitive looks about the lack of a horse, she blushed only slightly, letting out a low whistle.

    The steady sound of hoof beats came plodding up the path, a cream colored horse trotting it's way (rather merrily) towards the wagon. Making short work hooking the bridles up, Ihylin climbed up to the drivers seat, looking to the road ahead.
     
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  11. DropTop

    DropTop Member

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    Kharjiir shook the mans hand, eyes searching for an answer in the face in front of him. His story wasn't far off, pretty believable in fact. His voice didn't tremble, he didn't stutter, and his lover looked as though she had seen the predicament hours prior. Kharjiir's conclusion was that he was telling the truth. He wasn't one to be easily fooled, but if this man was fooling than he was exceptionally good. It was something about the female he was with that gave him a slight edge. Perhaps it was deja vu, but he swore he had recognized her. He set aside these odd feelings and continued to evaluate the two in front him, not imagining this man would have a thought of sizing him up. Ri'saad grinned at his kindness, offering him a look at his goods with a gesture of his hands.

    "Thank you for your hospitality. Many are ignorant to the trials we face on a daily basis. But what is most important is that you take a look at what we have to offer. A wide variety indeed. Is there anything you were perhaps looking for? Fur coat? Maybe a shield in case of another encounter?"

    Kharjiir dazed off as the old cat spoke, thinking back to a time when he squeezed the neck of one of those night stalking creatures so tight it's head nearly popped clean off, attached by nothing but stringy muscle tissue. He chuckled as it faded and his sense came too. It struck him then, for some odd reason, why he recognized this woman. She was a noble. Rich indeed, for he had seen her enter and leave the city plenty a time. He even remembered her name after hearing it called so many times. The only thing missing from this was her body guard. This struck him as odd, maybe even a puzzle piece to the bigger picture. He had never seen this man she was with before, and by the way she was holding him it seemed as if they were married for quite the time. Kharjiir wasn't one for detective work, he was the brawn. But this was quite amusing to him, for what else did his brain have to think about but the next creature he'd abruptly send to its maker. So a question posed itself to him. Quite a personal one, towards the woman clutched to this man. What did he have to lose though?

    "Where is your guard? You have a guard with you every time you enter and leave the city," he asked, eyes piercing into her own like a spear in flesh. What a coincidence really, how this all began to figure itself out in Kharjiir's mind. Why if this man was good at fooling, he was very good, because Kharjiir for a period lost all suspicion. But after processing this story, something just clicked. A natural instinct all predators share when in the presence of another predator. That instinct is respect. He awaited her response. The way he looked at her, even the way he said it was uncomfortable for it spoke only to Hellen, the man, and Kharjiir. Ri'saad had absolutely no clue as to why Kharjiir asked this, and didn't bother pondering the thought. All he cared for was coin. Kharjiir's eyes looked like that of a beast ready to pounce on its prey. In this case her secret was the prey, and Kharjiir was delighted to here her excuse for him not being present so he could act as if he didn't already know why he wasn't there. This was all a set up for a follow up question he had already prepared.

    His fellow Khajiit had left the conversation as soon as the man finished his story. Their senses were eased by his voice it seemed, they lost all worry as he spoke. Just as Kharjiir asked the question, two women and a man passed by. They stopped at a carriage well designed for a lofty merchant. Something about this carriage grabbed his attention, perhaps the starry configuration on one of the sides, or the compartments where bottles were being stored. It'd be a lucky day for a bandit brigade to stumble upon that load. It seemed to carry some valuable items indeed, but perhaps even more valuable were the people aboard. They all seemed to possess great power. What grabbed his attention in the first place made itself present at that moment. She wore intricate armor of a knight and a cap of beautiful white hair. She stood out amongst the three. She was delightful to the eyes, something Kharjiir usually refused when it came to Nords. The other nordic woman he couldn't quite see as she was calling a horse and strapping him up. He shook this daze quickly and refocused his attention back to what was in front of him. What was most important was that she answer correctly so his next question be viable. He awaited impatiently, with the facade of a calm demeanor on his face.

     
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  12. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    While her challenge was slyly slipped forward before drawing it away, Valencia was by no means surprised when Rolard accepted. He was a haughty man, and she knew no such man could deny the challenge of another! Of course, her whole challenge was a ploy to simply make him come along: not that she would enjoy his presence, but have him aid another. Then again, she had no proof that he wouldn't join otherwise, so she just took the acceptance as amusement.

    When the young woman accepted the journey, she herself was a bit discombobulated as to why the woman was dumbfounded by their acceptance. However, as the auburn-haired woman explained to the white-haired woman what the ordeal would have been and the money issue, the knight shook her head with a gentle smile. "Do not fret, love. My payment is the sight of you safely arriving in Solitude." Her voice was soft and sweet as usual, and she placed a hand on her chest before bowing her head for a brief moment.

    Once the male had arrived, she was "pleasantly" greeted with the very "graceful gift of his presence". The kind woman did not roll her eyes, but smiled out of amusement. She could never take someone so vain seriously: it entertained her, truthfully.

    While the caravan was a beautiful one, Valencia was a bit... perplexed by the lack of a horse. "Do not worry about the space, love. The keyword is 'livable"." She spoke, grinning once again to reassure the other. With the horse still absent, Valencia could not help but look awkwardly to the front of the caravan. Despite not meaning to fluster the woman with her look, the other woman was quick to whistle for a steed.

    The knightly woman had always wanted a horse. They were truly magnificent creatures, and quite strong. Back in Wayrest, the woman was often pressured into owning a trusty steed due to her knightly hood. However, she prompted others that she preferred to stay on foot unless traveling, and traveling was not often found for a royally high-ranking knight such as herself. When the royals traveled, she was provided with a horse. There was never a need to own one. However, now that she had spent quite the time in Skyrim, she was often questioning whether she should purchase her own finally.

    As the creature made it merry way to the caravan, Valencia couldn't help but smile at the sight of the creature. She frankly wanted to stroke the beautiful horse's mane, but decided against it, as she did not want to spook it. "Your horse is absolutely gorgeous. I'm a tad jealous, love." A small laugh exited her lips as she smiled once again, happy to compliment. As the woman mounted the caravan, Valencia stood beside it, ready to go along. "I am ready when you are. You as well love?" She inquired, her icy but warm blue eyes glancing to face the haughty lord.
     
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  13. Kivuli_The_Khajit

    Kivuli_The_Khajit Werewolf Queen of Skyrim

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    Heading towards Solitude herself is a young dark grey Khajiiti lady, on a certain mission. One of espionage and cunning, and all such things. She sports the drab colors of a mourner's set -- not that she was in mourning, she just preferred those colors -- overtop her slim usual combat gear as she usually did. Riding on a fine black purple-tinted mare, she comes across the fork path that lead to Whiterun's stables to notice an odd trio of folks gathering together about to depart. Out of curiosity, as Khajiiti tended to be, she decides to get a closer look. First settling her mare in the stall, before slowly approaching Valencia and the others. "Pardon this one for asking, my dears, but she is just curious as to where you three are headed."

    Upon closer inspection, one can almost see two small horns on her head...and her hair mostly covers one side of her face and stops down at her tail's base. She keeps her bright blue eyes on the three, in case any funny buisness happened.
     
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  14. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Long-Dead Member

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    She's gonna figure it out, idiot. She's gonna see you trying to hide it like a bloody fool.

    Kyneth sat frozen for a few seconds, and it felt like hours. Without thinking and by pure reflex he took another long, slow draw to calm the panic burning inside of him. If she knew what it was, on his arm. What he had done to it - to himself. What would she think?

    "Your words bring me joy," the girl said, following Kyneth's last statement, "However, you say such terrible things of yourself... yet the words you say... they hold wisdom and kindness. While I know not much of you, your words tell me your thoughts. A man who says such things cannot be fully horrible... and the time you've shared with me is worthy of my praise."

    WHAT in Sithus name did she just say? That she knows your thoughts? OH SHE'LL KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS.

    Her eyes locked with Kyneth's, and they shared a mutual gaze as Kyneth's blood grew frozen. His heart began to pump and pound thunderously in his chest as his defense mechanisms began to kick in. His eyes went dead, and his eyebrows dropped to be emotionless. Lips that were once lightly friendly toward the girl quickly morphed into that of a subtle scowl. Kyneth clenched his jaw, and squeezed the fist moistened by blood into a tight fist. He started to breath quickly and sharply through his nose and mouth, keeping from turning this frustration into a panic or a manic state.

    "Listen as I say this: do not take it lightly. You are kind to me. Whether you believe yourself to be or not, my words are of truth and truth only. You have gave me nothing but kindness; a terrible person would not waste their time in such a way. But you... you give me honest kindness. I know of no other you; and thus, my only judgement is that you are kind to me. However, you are unkind to yourself... Please: give your own heart kindness. It needs it," her words, her tone, was soft and delicate while maintaining firm motivation.

    As Kyneth started to think he had warded the moment away, he realized something very familiar - his voice, his torturer, was silent. He knew what this was, what was always to come after the voice goes silent. Kyneth's mind caught on something in the words that she said, and he didn't know what it was yet, but did know that it was the reason the voice went quiet. As well as the reason why Kyneth morphed into a very cold and vindictive version of himself. Kyneth had been withholding as much control as he had possible, and was able to to ward off the anger and the violence. Then he felt words like poison grow in his mouth, and his mouth opened.

    "Don't assume to know what I am thinking girl," his words hissed and shot as quick as an arrow through hide.

    Kyneth reeled, letting the words he said enter his mind and fill him with shock. He quickly grew enough control to drive his left fist in a violent punch, close and quiet into the stone floor. The pain seeped into his skin and warded off the darkness and anger in his mind, and allowed Kyneth to raise the pipe to his lips and take a long, relaxing drag.

    HA HA! Look at what you said you waste of breath! Hate yourself! Kill yourself! YOU ARE TOO DARK AND ANGRY FOR THIS WORLD. LEAVE IT!

    "I'm sorry, I - I," he started, returning back to his soft and regularly calm tone while avoiding eye contact, "I, just don't do well with people making assumptions of me... it gets people hurt. Because you are correct, you do only know this version of me."

    Yeah, keep telling yourself that you're something different than what I am. I am the truth and you are the liar. You aren't this calm version of yourself, you're me, but you try to hide me away!

    Kyneth glanced up at her firmly, but friendly, "There are aspects of my feelings, personality, and mind that are... dangerous. Who you see now? I'm only one part of a whole... one I hope you don't ever have to see."

    Then her eyes dropped to his lap, and she turned her body directly at him with her legs underneath her. Kyneth shuttered uncontrollably as the realization overtook him. She had seen the blood seeping through his sleeve. Her arms raised out toward him, offering a place for him to set his wounded extremity to sit and be analyzed.

    Oh bloody hell. Now what? We don't get to be angry so NOW WHAT DO WE DO SMART GUY?

    "Er-," Kyneth's meager attempt at changing the subject, and divert her actions was interrupted by the girl's voice.

    "Please. Let me heal you."

    Uh.... what? F*** no! No, no, NO. Don't do it it's a trap we need to leave let's go. Come on, COME ON!

    Kyneth choked as he attempted to formulate more words for her, but eventually took her words into his mind. Again, likely in response to panic the question brought, his pipe met his lips in reflex. The draw this time, was the longest and likely last left in the bowl. The cloud that left his lungs and mouth was thicker than the very mist of the storm, before getting dispersed by the heavy rainfall.

    Oh. OH. I see. We're going on f*** it mode? Really? You're a true F***ING coward.

    "Normally I would say 'no' to anyone, most everyone. Even you. But neither of us have anywhere to go now that is worth traversing through this deluge," he said, turning his body toward her's, "We're trapped here for the time being, and something tells me you'd exhaust me into it at some point later on. So let's just cut out the middle man I guess.... What have I got to lose? He he.."

    The small chuckle at the end of his words were light, and held a pinch of fear and panic within it. He blankly stared at her for a moment, realizing the possibility of her mistaking his words, then turned his stare to the hands she held out in front of him. Kyneth raised his arm up so that they both could see it, and began to pull up it's sleeve. His knuckles were now noticeably bloodied and bruised from hitting the stone floor moments ago, but he tried not to take his attention off of unwrapping the bandage around his arm. His vision grew blurry as he realized how many of the hundreds of scars, jagged and violent, were visible despite the bandage's cover. He assumed her attention was only on the surrounding scars now, as the gash that was newly carved deep into the flesh of his forearm was completely out in the open

    she saw the cuts.... what is she going to think?

    Kyneth presented his arm to her, setting it in her small soft hands. Then he began to read her. He hadn't got the chance while he was distracting from both himself and her attention. Now he could seize this opportunity to read her face closely, and take in her body language. Her posture was poised and focused, and her indigo gaze softly coaxed a gently rhythm of breathing out of him. He could pick up on no less than true and pure intent radiating off of her, which told him that she was not reacting to the open wound in his arm.
     
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  15. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    It seemed Rolard had arrived just in time as he took note of the rather intricate and admittedly beautiful carriage that awaited the group. He was impressed by the quality of the carriage, curious as to how the merchant could afford it. It also raised the question as to how the girl survived, as all of this simply painted her to be a much larger target, and considering that state of Skyrim, it was a damn ballsy move. S'pose there's a reason she asked for two warriors armed to the teeth, I imagine we'll be working for our pay.

    "Alright. I have enough room for the three of us, but someone will have to sit in the back. It's a livable space, just cramped. If I have to, I have the supplies to set up a camp for the night. Considering the inn usually only has one room open, that may or may not be the case."

    He wasn't overtly concerned with the lack of space that they'd have with the wagon. Hell, he was half expecting he'd have to walk alongside the whole way, wouldn't be the first time he's had to do that, not all merchants cared about how they treated their muscle. Course those types never lasted long. "Aye, think I've lived through worse than some cramped travelling conditions." They both probably assumed that he would have been an ass about the whole thing. Granted he was halfway tempted just to get a rise out of Ihylin, but he had enough fun at her expense... For now. Besides he truly had lived through much worse. Unlike most knightly orders the Knights of the Flame spent little time in civilized lands. They were often on campaign in the more dangerous regions of the land, whether it be the harsh north, the Wrothgarian's or wherever else they were needed. Often times they would lose knights to the harsh elements rather than bandit gangs and Orsimer raiders. Hmph, funny that I look on even those memories fondly.

    It didn't take long for him to notice that their gorgeous ride lacked something rather important. A horse. "Ugh, just so you know mi'lady I signed on to guard you, not drag your cart around." His playful smile made it clear he was trying to play a bit nicer with her. He enjoyed the quips that they made at each other, but he knew he couldn't afford to make yet another enemy. Her blush gave away her embarrassment over the situation, hurriedly calling for her horse. It was a beautiful specimen, well built to drag the heavily laden cart. It made him think of his old mount Greywind. Another thing lost when he was forced from his home. How he missed travelling the breadth of the land on a powerful charger, cutting down enemies from his saddle. But struggling to build a life for his fugitive family was costly, and a horse was definitely not in his near future.

    "I am ready when you are. You as well love?"

    Rolard gave the white haired woman an inquisitive look, his icy eyes scanning over her for a moment. She was incredibly friendly, almost oddly so. Yet he felt as though she acted a bit off with him? Perhaps he pulled off the cocky asshole bit to well if it irritated even her. But there was something else about her. She seemed almost familiar, yet he couldn't place it and it irked him to no end. He wouldn't push it now, but intended to figure out the reason for it.

    "Always mi'lady. Been to long since I've had some good travelling companions. Looking forward to it."
    He gave a sincere smile to her before hopping on the back of the wagon, letting his left leg hang off as he attempted to get comfortable. "I'll take the back for now, our poor merchant friend can only handle so much of my charm." He laughed to himself as he pulled out his beloved white ebony sword, pouring some oil on a rag before carefully cleaning the blade, ensuring it remains in top condition. As he cared for Saphfire he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him. Looking up he saw possibly one of the strangest sights he ever laid eyes on. It seemed to be some bizarre hybrid of Khajit and Argonian. I feel like if I think to much into this, I'll just disturb myself. Instead he focused on the question the strange creature asked.

    "Well, I'll leave that to our lovely employer here to share, though I have to ask, why do you care?" While it might seem a bit pointed, he was not without reason. This stranger looked peculiar, and it wasn't just her race. She dressed darkly, spoke softly. All around seemed like a suspicious character. For all they knew she could be trying to set up an ambush for the troop. Not that some excitement wouldn't be appreciated. But experience gave him cause to be paranoid.
     
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  16. Kivuli_The_Khajit

    Kivuli_The_Khajit Werewolf Queen of Skyrim

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    "This one is headed up to Solitude you see. If you are headed that way, she wouldn't mind the extra company. Safety is in numbers, especially with bandits and Giants amok in the wilderness. " Kiv shrugs slightly, keeping her body language unthreatening as possible. She really wasn't in the mood to fight, especially since she had no idea what these caravaners were capable of.
     
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  17. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    His words. His words that were once filled with a calm demeanor were now trampled by a venomous phrase. His facial expression was harder, colder, darker. What he is thinking? Had she spoken the wrong words? Words of which brought a fury. She could tell in his eyes. Eydis was frightened easily, yes. However, she knew she needed to aid this man with her words, so while her expression faltered slightly, she had no inclination to wince away.

    It was sudden: a violent punch to the floor below. The blonde winced at the sudden movement but quickly focused firmly but softly back to him. It was then her indigo eyes watched him take in another deep breath from his pipe. He was truly unstable, and by his actions, he knew it. Instability is never given, though: it is learned. That man went through many things that caused his instability, and when it is learned, it is hard to break habit.

    The apology was shaky, but meaningful. His eyes avoiding any contact was proof enough to her that he was truly sorry, but wary. She listened with full attention as the male explained himself, giving hints of 'danger' and 'assumptions'. Was she a bit frightened? Certainly. But her calm demeanor proved herself worthy, as she was not going to let fear stop her from helping the man. That was what drove her to surpass any and all fears she owned: helping others was more important.

    "I understand. No need to apologize for something you struggle to control." She began, keeping her eyes on him while keeping a gentle expression. "There are many people in this world that struggle much like you: keeping the demons locked away. I cannot presume your condition, as only you know your struggles, so I do apologize if I am misinterpreting anything but," she paused, her eyes looking outward to the rain. The pause continued: she had trouble formulating the words she wanted to use, but she knew she needed to speak before it worried him.

    "We all must have this balance of good and evil. Without evil, how can someone know what is good? They are two sides of the same coin: one cannot exist without the other. And I understand it is difficult to go about your life with this other part of you that shouts in your mind terrible thoughts that clash with your mindset of another. Just... be strong. Be courageous against your demons. It's a tough battle that I am sure you have fought for ages." She paused once again, smiling as she shook her head. "Look at me: rambling on. I cannot remember what my point was now."

    It was then that she went into her position, seeing the crimson that seeped through the bandages that he tried to hide. Once she had made her statement, the male seemed to fill with fear. Not the fear most would assume, but the fact that she had his attention on something he was not proud of. She would not divert her attention though, as she knew he needed aid and she was sure that she would give it to him. She watched another puff of smoke leave his lungs once more. His next statement gave her more information, which she certainly soaked in. She already knew he was not well in social interactions, with, well, their own interactions together. But he was right that she would not stop and would dog him until he would allow her to. As he chuckled, a smile fell upon her face, easing the air.

    She still held out her hands, but in a friendly way: not the 'I am still waiting' format. Her indigo eyes watched carefully as he unwrapped the bandages, watching a multitude of scars plastered on his skin appear. The blood of the most recent wound lined a few of the scars that made them more defined. Her face did not falter nor change; it was still just as soft and gentle.

    As he placed his arm in her hands, she softly smiled. It was huge step to allow her to heal him, at least, in her mind. Gently, with her soft hands, she moved one slowly below his arm to hold it up while the other went above. She closed her hand into a gentle fist, as her indigo eyes closed as well. Her hand hovered above the wound as she inhaled. Finally, she exhaled, opening her eyes as a soft orange glow emanated from her now open hand. The swirls of light twisted and flowed around the wound, making a small hushing sound much like wind through the mountains mixed with the crackling flames of fire. The blood began to flow back to his wound much like smoke being inhaled into one's mouth. As the blood returned to its sender, the wound began to lose its redness and began to close. Once it was completely closed, final crackles from the magic signaled the end as the stands of orange light faded away.

    The blonde carefully placed her hand where the wound once was, before gently stroking her fingers across the surface of his skin. She could feel the bumps and ridges of his scars, but gave no other attention to him. Finally the orange glow of his own skin faded, and she removed her hand, placing it below his arm where her other hand was.
     
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  18. Hart

    Hart Active Member

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    Rolling her eyes are Rolard, she had the reins wrapped around her fist, ready to leave, when the bizarre looking Khajiit suddenly made an appearance next to the caravan. Ihylin bristled, though it was subtle, fingers tightening over the leather leads she held. With a straight face, she considered what to say very carefully, before silently nodding to Valencia to sit next to her in the driver's seat of the caravan. Between the mourning clothes, and the way this Khajiit was attempting to make herself look small, to the mere way she looked in her peculiar manner all threw up massive red flags that made the merchant uneasy.

    "Northeast. I'm going to Dawnstar. If you are looking for a priest of Arkay, go to Falkreath. The hold capital isn't walled in, and Solitude guards won't let you in as it is. Now if you don't mind, I've got places to be before that storm blows in from the west. You'd best be on your way."

    Ihylin snapped the reins crisply, and the mare pulling the cart lurched forward down the path, wood creaking with bumps hit on the road. She held her lips in a thin line, staring straight ahead at the road as the started their journey (apparently) up to Dawnstar.

    @Zelda @Keidivh
     
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  19. Kivuli_The_Khajit

    Kivuli_The_Khajit Werewolf Queen of Skyrim

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    Kiv couldn't help but chuckles at the remark about Arkay. "Not in mourning. Nice guess though. Kiv just prefers dark colors. Help with hiding when trouble befalls her." She had already mapped out ways into Solitude, none of them via the front doors, so that wasn't much of a worry for her. "Frost trolls await thee up there. Ice Wraiths as well...and nightmares. Rumors travel fast, and rumors dictate that the fair folk of Dawnstar never rest easy."
     
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  20. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Long-Dead Member

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    Though the girl reacted kindly to his apology and explanation for his harsh words towards her, Kyneth couldn't accept it. Her talk of courage, and understanding, it spurred something deep within him. It was another inferno, but this time, he was willing. He wasn't resisting. He knew it was coming this time. He accepted the fire that was burning inside of his stomach, and let it consume his heart and mind. This wasn't the first time he let the fire take over, because when it ran out he was left hollow; sad, and depressed. And he craved it.

    Blah, blah, blah, BLAH! 'Be strong' she says. 'Be courageous' she says. It's not that simple, is it Kyneth? She doesn't have a damned clue what she is talking about. Look at her, you can see her naivete behind those eyes. I know you can hear it in her voice too; so soft spoken and friendly. She fears you, no, US. She's is weary behind that smile, thinks we can't tell how desperate she is to help us. You know exactly why she is talking to you how she is Kyneth, you know exactly why you put you arm in her hands. Give her what she wants, let's keep her around, ay? How's about we show her just how unstable, how INSANE we really are?!

    Kyneth's sharp gaze didn't move from her face as she scanned his mangled appendage. He watched her eyes try to focus on the new gash he had carved, but as he expected, she briefly glanced at his other self inflicted scars. He could almost see her face try and shift her expression from the soft and friendly look, but it remained even still. He quickly shot an unnoticeable glance at her form, absorbing the information she unwittingly presented to him once more. Though her body's position on the floor suggested nothing, he noticed her hands slightly twitched in reaction to his arm hovering above her small hands. A twitch that even she couldn't have noticed, a subconscious tick that suggested a change in nerve. It told him that his instincts and initial reading were accurate, she was indeed afraid of him, and though she had been disguising it fairly well there are some things even the most secure of minds cannot hide. Then she raised one arm above his own, and light began to pour out of her hand.

    What. The. HELL is she doing?!

    He winced, and clenched the fist attached to his mending arm. The urge to rip his arm away from her and react was unbearable; but he wouldn't allow himself to lose it in front of her yet. He needed to draw her in, gain her trust and give her his own. Then show her the harsh reality of the world; there are some things you just cannot mend. Nobody could help him, and he would make sure nobody would. He was hopeless, as always, and though he dreamt of being the perfect person he wished to be, it was a goal only he alone could achieve. He squeezed his teeth together until his jaw shivered, and pulled his locked gaze on the golden magicka warming and pulling his skin back together back to her face. This time he let his eyes burn as he glared, and awaited her eyes to lock with his.

    Make sure she knows the mistake she made. NEVER again will she heal you. NEVER AGAIN. AND NEVER with that unnatural garbage they call magicka.

    He felt the warmth of the spell recede, and began to formulate the words he wanted to say. The words that would make her learn the boundary she had crossed. He didn't care that she couldn't have even known, and right then and didn't want to. He didn't care that he was the one responsable for the entire situation to begin with, because she was his enemy in this moment. The fire was urging him away from empathy, away from being nice or gracious. Then the fire was doused, instantly and entirely. Her touch, her soft fingers gently touching his forearm, it had pulled him away from the malice he had willingly let in. He forgot how much he loved that, the gentle touch of another stroking along his arms. It was familiar, and it was something he hadn't felt in over a decade.

    Amara used to do that.... it's not the same.

    Now, the feelings inside of Kyneth disappeared along with his thoughts, words, and personality. He was numb, in reset. Pulling his arm away from her hands abruptly, he set it in his lap and let his hands meet and interlock with each other. Then he felt the wave start to rush over him. It was cold and painful, filled with all the sorrow and sadness he kept buried deep within and under him. The intense emotional response sat in his throat like sand, and filled his eyes with tears. His head fell to his chest, and his hands opened to cover his face. He was trying to control this poor girl, manipulate her, and it was time to stop. The guilt swirled together with the feeling of loss and sadness, and added to the now numerous waves that threw themselves through his body. Why did he want, no, need to control her? Why was he so offended by her? What did she do? Why was he never in control of himself? Why couldn't he think clear?Why was he either emotional and heartbroken, angry and malicious, or his 'true' self; however numb it may be? Why couldn't he just be normal?

    Pull it together Kyneth. She already fears us. She already pities us. We can't let her see all sides of us within the span of an hour. Numb it out. Push it down. Grab your knife.

    With a deep breathe, almost a gasp, he pulled his hands away from his now recomposed face. He knew what he wanted, and reached toward the sheathe of his smaller blade, but stopped. He looked at the girl, then at his lap, then his arm, and lastly the storm above them. He didn't take his gaze away from the dark sky, and pulled his hand away and set it back to his lap with the other. He didn't want to frighten or unintentionally threaten her by pulling the blade, or better yet, he didn't want to reopen the wound she had just selflessly healed.

    "I don't like magicka," he spoke in monotone, "Never really have."

    He paused for almost a full minute, the let out a sigh before continuing. "I'm Kyneth, by the way. I carved that gash myself, mere minutes before you arrived in fact. I.... did it with this," he gestured back to the blade he had almost pulled out, still in it's sheathe, "You're not going to be able to help me, dear. I appreciate you healing my arm, but I won't let you do it again. I can't. I deserve these scars. They remind me, and in a way, heal me. If I let every stranger I met help me fix my own wounds, I.... well I wouldn't have all these damn scars, that's for sure."

    Though he did not feel it, the happiness behind the slight grin that he let grace his face, he hoped it, along with the facetious remark at the end of his words, would help ease the tension he had undoubtedly created between the two of them.
     
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