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    Hart

    Sassmaster
    Wrinkling her nose at the thought of him getting sick on her, the merchant scoffed and busied herself to dusting the chalky, thick powder on his face. In all reality, she was trying to focus very hard on anything but his face, her eyes focusing instead on the fine particles that were floating on air in the short distance between them. The wolfish smile he had given made her uncomfortably aware of everything he was doing, where his hands were, how he was very slightly leaning over so she could reach his face. The slightest shades of pink colored her tanned face as she worked.

    "You're just using this as an excuse to feel me up aren't you?"

    She wasn't expecting that question, leaning back from him and leveling her hazel eyed gaze. He had some damn nerve asking such a thing, seeing as they had just met mere hours ago to start this journey. Yet there was something about him that seemed familiar, and Ihylin had no reason to make enemies in such an economy.

    "This would be going much differently if that was the case. Keeping in mind that I'm paying you for transport and guard services, I suggest you behave yourself, Rolard." Her spitfire attitude had gotten her in trouble before, and she was not afraid to do it again to keep herself safe. Perhaps in this case, out of another squabble with a very large mercenary.
     
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    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    Feeling the thick chalk coated on his skin elicitted a grimace from the large Breton warrior, clearly not pleased at all with this plan. In truth, it was a rather ingenious one. Few folk wanted to interact with an Afflicted, and that went for bandits just the same. Course desperation and greed can force men to do foolish things. Only the Divines knew if this little scheme would pay off. Part of him hoped it wouldn't. Didn't want the journey to be to boring now.

    Trying not to dwell on the thick coat of chalky paste now on him, Rolard diverted his attention to his tormentor for the past day, Lady Ihylin. She seemed to get a great deal of satisfaction from beating and verbally sparring with him. Course he didn't help the situation by antagonizing her every chance he had. It was refreshing having someone treat him... Well, like a normal person. Not as an Oathbreaker or traitor. How long that would last remained to be seen, as he had made sure his reputation proceeded him throughout the holds. More than that though, there was something oddly familiar about the girl, even more so than Valencia. While he could't say why, her presence was rather comforting. Hmm, strange.

    "This would be going much differently if that was the case. Keeping in mind that I'm paying you for transport and guard services, I suggest you behave yourself, Rolard."

    The scandalized look on her olive toned face and fire in her hazel eyes told him that his barbing had the desired effect. It was really to easy.

    "Now now dear, you paid me to guard you and your possessions, don't believe there was any rules regarding behavior, isn't that right Lady Valencia?"

    As if to put the nail in the coffin, he got some of the chalky paste on his fingers, dragging it across her face starting at her forehead and ending on the tip of her nose, giving it a slight tap as he finished the motion.

    Hmm, perhaps I'm a masochist?

    @Hart @Zelda
     

    Hart

    Sassmaster
    Her patience was worn threadbare. The hand that held the over-sized, and now orange tinted brush, tightened in frustration as he drug paste-powder down her face in an obvious attempt to piss her off. She exhaled slowly, flinching when he tapped her nose, with him smirking at her like a smug bastard that he was.

    Solitude. I just have to get to Solitude and I can dump him off at the gates. There is no way in hell I'm ever hiring him again.

    Ihylin turned sharply on her heel and stepped away from him. Placing supplies back in their appropriate spots, the merchant cleared her throat, back turned to the ex-knight. 5 days was going to a rough time. Her voice was unintentionally sharp as she regarded him.

    "Lord Seton, if you are done acting like a child, I suggest you find a cloak to throw over your armor and take your seat up front. We've lost time to the storm with this bickering, and I will leave you in the snow if you slow me down. Business in Skyrim is brutal. I will lose out on profit, I will not be able to take care of myself or my family, and we will die." Ihylin turned to look at him, eyes darkened and sharp. "And I don't know who you are, but I'm sure there is someone out there you want to protect too."
     

    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    'And you are crying to me because...?'

    Such words. Certainly, most travelers seemed to appease the damsel in distress ploy. Either the ladies understood the feeling of being in trouble, or the males wanted to feel a bit more manly themselves by rescuing a poor woman. But the Khajiit... cold and heartless that one was. The once crying but then upset redguard-nord crossed her arms, pouting with a huff. "Humph! You Khajiit are no fun..." Rayyia grumbled, sighing. "Look... I'll tell you what... give me the caravan and I'll let you go, unscathed. Most of the stuff in there is probably illegal... or stolen... or both... it would be easy for a Khajiit like you to get the goods again elsewhere~"

    With a cunning smile, the woman winked, and with a snap of her fingers, the rest of her group appeared from the brush, standing behind her. "I am a good person! Trust me sweetheart: you hand over the goods, you stay alive, and everybody is as happy as a drunken Nord fellow! What do you say?" With a confidently sly grin, the woman drew her weapon, as did her group of bandits. "The choice is yours, and I believe both of us know which is the right answer..."

    She certainly couldn't let a mere caravan escape without harvesting some sort of profit from the female. They were running low on supplies, but it was fairly easy to ambush those days with the civil war and all. She could be jumping and beating someone senseless and the soldiers wouldn't bat an eye 'lest they be of the opposing war side.

    @Kivuli_The_Khajit
     

    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    The idea of being projectile-vomitted on was surely an idea the knight was heavily against... however, it made her chortle slightly by the male's threat. Certainly, he must've been embarrassed in some way or form. She would admit he was far more attractive by comparison to the others of Skyrim, but his ego was far greater. There was no reason other than play or embassment to be so defensive.

    His next statement though was certainly one that caught the guard 'off-guard', so to say, as she was briefly taken aback from her watch of the area towards the two.

    The tension was a thick fog, easily seen by the royal knight. Anyone in the surrounding area could be struck by the haze. Lord Seton's arrogant and grinning remarks only seemed to peeve Ihylin more and more. It was as if both had their own swords drawn and at the ready, waiting for one to make the first move. Valencia knew the auburn-haired woman had a bit of a temper, despite knowing her only briefly. And Rolard? A teasing and arrogant fellow who likes to piss off the tempered. It was a terrible mixture, and the white-haired young woman certainly wanted no abruptions from the trip.

    And of course, the sly mercenary would give another remark, bringing Valenica into the already boiling waters. To top it all off, he smeared the rustic-colored paste across the woman's face. The woman was ready to intervene, to stop the two of them, but Ihylin spoke too quickly.

    With a watchful eye, Valencia gave full attention as the woman turned around, placing the items away, before facing the mercenary once more. She was tense, sharp, and cold. It was obvious she was trying her best not to explode to the male.

    Despite the tension, the woman let a bit release, confronting Rolard with harsh words of information. Valencia knew that it would take time for the tension to snuff itself out.

    The white-haired knight waited a few moments before speaking up. Her voice was not as light and fluttery as usual: still gentle, but far more serious. "Let's move along, now... so we can enjoy the weather while we can." It was worth a shot to attempt to move the situation elsewhere. It was most likely a failure, but nonetheless a thoughtful gesture. The knight took her seat at the back of the caravan, stretching a bit before watching the area once again.

    @Hart @Keidivh
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    The sharpness in his employers tone made it more than obvious than any playful attitude the auburn haired merchant had was long gone, replaced instead with a chilly demeanor and biting words. It was rather irking. Granted he was having his fun with her, but it wasn't like she hadn't been returning the favor up to this point. Those last words though bothered the ex-lord more than anything else. This girl knew nothing of what he had to protect the shattered fragments of his family from, what he sacrificed to ensure their safety. And to be questioned by some mere peddler, one who relied upon him to shed blood and give his own so she could sell her trinkets?

    The Breton's jaw clenched, trying to hold back the tirade of words he wanted to throw at the woman. Luckily, Valencia saw the need to step in at this point, trying to encourage the two to simply drop the matter and move on. Even her usual, sweet tone held a severeness in it. Letting out a resigned sigh, Rolard looked to both of the woman. "Forgive me for any delay or transgression than mi'ladies, it won't happen again."

    Walking past them, Rolard when into the back of the carriage, putting away his fine arctic wolf cloak for something a bit more ragged looking, if only to ensure his own cloak didn't get any of this vile chalk on it. Draping it over his large form, he made his way to the front of the cart, remaining silent as he took out his pipe, stuffing it with some fresh Razor Weed as he waited for them to proceed. Sooner this bloody contract is done with the better.

    @Zelda @Hart
     

    Kivuli_The_Khajit

    Werewolf Queen of Skyrim
    Kiv takes a look around. "What caravan? You mean the one a few miles back or something?" She asks, in all seriousness. She was alone on a nightmare steed, on that note what caravan would want to travel with her? "If you mean that one I passed, by all means, go nuts. Not mine nor my problem." She then looks the halfbreed over. "Not bad of a ruse either. Had this been my first time out, I probably would have fallen for it."
     

    Hart

    Sassmaster
    The merchant's face was flushed red in frustration. He was biting his tongue as she was her own, and how painfully obvious it was for them both.

    She huffed quietly. Clouds on the horizon were building, the dark underbelly of a raging beast fooling those unaware with silver lined tops from the afternoon sun.

    Ihylin threw a dark, ragged dress over the one she wore, and a hooded cloak of her own over her shoulders. Rifling through the same compartment that held the orange paste-powder to mimic an Afflicted, she made quick work of making herself look ill and tired with kohl, green-purple powder, and white dust. It was convincing enough, and she packed up and jumped into the driving side of the carriage, face looking gaunt and pale, her eyes bagged and heavy looking. Yet even the usual troublemaker sparkle in her gaze was faded as she threw her hood over her head.

    "We'll, um... be going now. Lady Ildrose, if we need your assistance, I'll knock on the back wall a few times. Lord Seton, just... Try not to blow that smoke in my face. Please." The cart lurched forward as she clicked her tongue a few times to get the mare moving again.

    ------------------------

    She had removed her bracers and taken up a book to pass the time. Tension still hung thick in the air around the cart, but she was doing her best to ignore it given the circumstances. The thunderclouds had grown bigger on their path. A cooling breeze was beginning to blow in the tallest of the trees, the rustling leaves releasing the scent of green life and rain to be expected.

    Sighing quietly, Ihylin closed her book. They had traveled for a little while, and the bandit territory had been silent during the time. She placed the book away, pushing her sleeves up her arms halfway. The scars from her craftsmanship were dull and white in the muted light, but it was not something she intentionally hid. The upperclass turned a nose at her when she began to sell her jewelry, many years ago...

    "Good heavens, child! You must have stolen these pieces of finery, there is absolutely no way these are your own work! Just look at your hands, they're filthy and scarred! Have you stolen from your father? Disgrace you are. Get out of my sight...!"

    The bracers are a habit now, I suppose... they think I'm a pretty merchant with a skilled craftsman of a husband, maybe. Who knows the truth is something I'm unsure of, and may never be something I will know. I've worked so hard for my life. Maybe someone will finally see that.


    Unnatural rustling in the bushes made Ihylin snap her head up. Instinctively, her hand went to her knife, yet she hesitated. Instead she reached into her pocket, pulling something out she had her fist tightly closed over. Nudging Rolard lightly, the merchant put her head down again and hissed something under her breath.

    "Seton, your crown. Hide it now."

    @Keidivh
    @Zelda
     
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    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    The ride went quietly for some time, broken only by the carriage bumping along the uneven stones, and the occasional sigh or turn of a page. Rolard himself remained deathly silent, only the crackling embers of his pipe heard from him before it was drowned out by the cooling breeze and the rustling leaves, acting as emissaries of the coming storm, in case one somehow managed to miss the intimidating skyline, which promised a great deal of hardship for the small band of travelers.

    When Ihylin finally placed her book down, Rolard decided to steal a glance and see what she was doing, if for no other reason but to mitigate how bored he was. He certainly wasn't expecting to see what could only be described as vicious and painful scars, clearly caused by an intense flame. Being one skilled in the arts of Destruction, it was a sight he was all to familiar with. There were a fair number of charred corpses in the world thanks to him. Part of him was tempted to inquire about the scar, surely it must have had an interesting tale to pass the time. But in reality it would likely end with the two bickering and the merchant tossing him from the cart, so he remained in silence.

    Until an unnatural rustling in the dense and foreboding foliage alerted him that things might be getting exciting soon.

    "Seton, your crown. Hide it now."

    The Breton didn't even acknowledged her words with a grunt, instead clandestinely sliding the crown off his head and into his travel sack. Overall, his form looked relaxed, as if nothing had changed, but the hazel eyed merchant would likely be able to see his hand resting upon Saphfire, flexing instinctively.

    "Just keep your eyes ahead. Let them think they caught us unawares." Rolard knew better than most how to turn an ambush against the aggressors. Knowing their enemy was there, they could easily turn the ambush around, but they had to let them believe they were still in control.

    Time to earn his pay, the only way he could. With blood, fire and steel.

    @Hart
    @Zelda
     

    Hart

    Sassmaster
    He knows his stuff, at least... Let's just hope it's wolves, and not--

    Her train of though was interrupted as a small band of raggedly dressed bandits emerged from the shrubbery, weapons drawn. Ihylin gave an annoyed sigh. Could she not have at least one tripped not entirely fucked over by something?

    Bandits. Of course it's bandits.

    "Alright, girly, hand over the goods and nobody will die today." The poor bastard of a leader looked out of sorts, his nose crooked and sideways from one too many bars fights, and the rest of him scarred to hell and back. The rest of them looked to be in poor shape, skinny and starving, and overall a complete mess. The pathetic attempt of an ambush felt more like a nuisance than a threat, but the merchant kept her face calm.

    "I haven't really got much, if it's gold you're looking for. Now bodies... I have plenty of those. Afflicted, done in by their disease. See, I've got one right here if you want to get a close look." A hoarse laugh echoed in the trees. They looked uncomfortable, shuffling feet taking tiny steps backwards at the idea of being near an Afflicted. Ihylin nudged Rolard with her elbow and chuckled again.

    "Now, best you be on your way, I think. The lot of you are looking like you've been dragged Oblivion and back, and I do believe I could call that impressive. If yeh happen to go back anytime soon, tell my Aunt Yngvild she needs to stop by for tea some time." She was playing for the look of a madwoman, and it was working. Even the chief of the group had lowered his knife to stare in disbelief of what he was hearing.

    Yet it didn't go at smoothly as she had hoped. A Redguard in the back had been fidgeting the entire time, murmuring to himself, twitching spasmodically every so often. Keeping an eye on all of them was proving difficult, and how Ihylin had missed his behavior until just now...

    She shifted her feet on the cart. His head snapped up, and he cried bloody murder, charging the caravan with little regard. Slamming her fist again the back wall a few times to alert Valencia, the merchant moved fast, skittering down the side of the cart with her dagger in hand and disappearing into the trees, two of the six bandits on her tail. The mare pulling the cart reared, striking the Redguard dead with heavy hooves to his skull.
     
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    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    The ride, while being in the caravan, was generally peaceful thus far. Of course, the knight had no observations from the back to tell if Ihylin or Rolard were bickering still, but from no sounds of shouting, it seemed to prove they were fine.

    To pass the time, the white-haired youthful woman took out a book from her satchel. She Hid an abundance of potions, gold, and a dagger within her armor if she were ever attacked and had her satchel sword and shield stolen, but most of her belongings that she carried with her were in her satchel.

    The book was about two men who went on an adventure through the fictional kingdom of Aeslir. It was a place once powerful, but centuries ago, the kingdom was destroyed. While the remains of ruins from the old kingdom existed, the lands were fresh, wild, and peacefully serene with nature. There were small groups of terrifying goblins and trolls that communicated well enough to form their own territories much like the bandits of Skyrim. However, the lands were mostly filled with scattered villages with peaceful people, ruins of the old kingdom, and wide open unexplored areas.

    Secretly, the woman always had a desire for adventure. She became a knight, and had her eduation of basic arcane arts, but she always had this desire to just go off and explore vast unknown lands. Of course, she knew better that she was far more useful as a protecter, and she was happy she held herself to such a degree.

    As she read through the two men's adventures of finding magical ruins and strange artifacts, something seemed... off. She heard noises outside the caravan, only muffles from where she was. Instictively, she placed her novel away and placed her hand on her blessed weapon when the caravan stopped. If it were bandits, she could only hope they would leave due to the "Afflicted". However, she also knew that if combat was initiated, the bandits would know that the caravan is not of the Afflicted, but of riches.

    Then she heard the cry and bangs. Bandits.

    Leaping out of the back of the caravan, Valencia drew her weapon and prepared her shield. To most, if never seen fighting she seemed far too optimistic to put an end to other's lives. However, when it came to protecting others, she would do all she could to do so.

    Taking a quick glimpse of the bandits, she counted six. All was chaos as she tried to find Ihylin and Rolard: to make sure they were at least fine. She watched as the mare struck a bandit to the ground, giving her a better idea as to who she needed to counter.

    Two bandits began to approach Valencia, running quickly at her. One with two axes and the other a greatsword. Preparing her position, she watched as the two ran after her. She knew the greatsword would be easier to take out than the double-wielding fool, but she knew her action plan. Running at the bandit with a greatsword, she slammed her shield upward from his downward blow, giving her a complete view of his open body. "Hya!" Giving a slice to his body, it gave her enough time to spin around and block one blow from the double-wielding axe user, and to twist her blade between the ridges of the other axe before it could slice her. So far, so good.
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    Barely raising his head, Rolard took a moment to look over the ragged group of bandits that approached their wagon. Clearly this was not the creme de la creme of bandit gangs, far from, these poor curs looked to be the runts of the pack, to weak to challenge any of the other major gangs, taking the scraps they managed to come across. Little did they know they had bitten off a great deal more than they could chew. Plenty of bandits, highwaymen and low lifes had been cut down by the Breton. To him, they were all just another mark to add to his tally.

    "Alright, girly, hand over the goods and nobody will die today." Tch, on top of looking pathetic they can barely muster up a true threat. I almost feel sorry for them.

    Ihylin however stuck with their shtick, so he complied, and when she nudged him he let out a hacking cough, "P-Peryite said he would bless us... He said he would bless us he did." The ex-noble muttered madly beneath his cloak, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. This caused many of the assorted thugs to backpedal, wanting nothing to do with a disease ridden wagon, and a possible cultist to boot! Rolard swore he even heard one of them mutter a prayer to the Divines. Ironic given they were the ones attempting to mug and murder them.

    One in their midst seemed to drug addled to comprehend this potential threat, clearly one ten to many doses of Skooma for his own good judging by the way he twitched and spasmed. Letting out a shrill scream and charged the cart. Thank the Divines, no more of this bloody charade. Even as the Redguard drug addict had his head smashed in by their horse, Rolard tossed off his robe, revealing glistening runic armor, arcane runes etched in ancient Bretonic scrawled across it.

    However before he could intercede, his employer decided to make a mad dash to the woods, prompting two of the bandits to eagerly pursue. "Ihylin, Divines woman you were supposed to stay where I could guard you!" He cried out to her before leaping off the cart, landing with a resounding thud that kicked up a splash of mud and dirt, squaring off before the supposed 'chief' of this paltry group.

    "Pha, well aren't you all nice and shiny! I'm gonna look forward to looting your corpse, and then I'mma join my boys and have a proppa good time with your lady friend, now that we know she ain't some disease ridden wretch." The Imperial barked in a rather in-eloquent fashion, made all the more disgusting to hear with his crooked, rotted smile, nose permanently crooked. A truly disgusting and vile sort of creature. Rolard was all to happy to put him down.

    A predatory smile came over the veteran knights face as he drew his bastard sword from his scabbard, enchanted white ebony shimmering even with the heavily clouded sky. "Now, now my friend. Is that anyway to speak about a lady?"

    The Imperial cocked an eyebrow for a moment, before Rolard descended upon him, Saphfire singing as it tore threw the air. The Imperial barely had time to raise battle-axe, just blocking the blow from his would-be 'victim', the strike rattling him to his very core. Any arrogance the leader had quickly drained and face became pale as he found himself hounded by a flurry of strikes from the bastard sword. The chieftain attempted to get in a few desperate blows, only to be side-stepped or parried, and receive a nasty slice from the white ebony sword in response. After another locking of blades, the chieftain pushed off Rolard, giving him precious time to produce a vial of sickish purple. Skooma... Well plops.

    As the drug began to flow through his veins, a wild look came into the Imperials eyes, much the same as the Redguard as he launched himself in another frenzied assault. While he completely outclassed the bandit, Skooma added an unnatural strength and speed to even the most pathetic of would be warriors, and Rolard was pressed to keep up with how quick the axe began moving, before actually managing to break his defense, slicing across his left arm. However no cry of pain was heard from the azure eyed warrior, instead a low, savage growl. It was an insult to be so much as touched by such an unworthy opponent.

    "I've had just about enough of this." He growled to the drugged bandit leader as he ducked beneath another swing, leaving him completely exposed. Taking full advantage of this, in one swift motion Saphfire cleaved through the mans leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, where the blade once again came to meet him. A shocked expression was frozen on the Imperials face as it was decapitated, send spiraling through the air so clean and powerful was the cut. A burst of blood spurted out of stump where his head once was before collapsing to the ground.

    "Oblivion take your soul." Were the only words offered to the bandit, before his attention was turned elsewhere. Valencia had her opponents well in hand, one of the brutes quickly falling to her blade, her fighting style impeccable. Very few received such training... Knights received it.

    This was shoved to the back of his mind for now, as his auburn haired tormentor was somewhere in the woods with two ill intentioned thugs. "Damnit it all, Ihylin? Ihylin, where are you?" His voice cried out towards the dense woods, Rolard breaking into a spring towards where he last saw her. You're not dying on my watch.

    @Hart @Zelda
     

    Hart

    Sassmaster
    A distant sound of a yowling echoed through the woods in the direction the merchant took off towards. Seconds after that, a Khajiit burst from the bushes, hissing in pain, his hands covering his more... sensitive areas, blood pooling around his trousers. Poor bastard fell to his knees on the cobbled path, but the more unexpected sight was Ihylin sprinting from the treeline towards him.

    Her expression looked rather dangerous, as if she wasn't all there. Yet she gave no one time to react, snarling at the downed bandit on the road. She grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, pulling him on his back and falling to him with dagger in hand, making terribly efficient work of ending his life with multiple stabs to the throat. Turning her head towards the treeline, there were blood splatters across much of her face, staining the white powder a morbid pink. Not seeming to notice, she ignored both Rolard and Valencia and stood, watching the second bandit come out of the trees, already bleeding from a small gash in his side, and missing two fingers on his sword hand.

    "You bitch! I should gut you where you stand, worthless mongrel of a woman!" Whipping a dagger from the ragged tunic he wore, the last of the pathetic band charged the merchant. Sidestepping his attack, she adjusted her grip on the knife, bringing it down on his back as he stumbled by her. He lay dead on the ground, but a sharp pain in her side brought Ihylin crashing back down to reality. The bastard had managed to knife her as he fell, leaving the blade shoved in her body at an odd angle.

    --------

    The merchant looked up from her wound with a paler face than the powder she wore, glancing between the two of them uncertainly. Her entire world spun as she opened her mouth to speak, the adrenaline of the fight coming to crash down on her all at once, and she yanked the bandit's dagger out, making a dash for the trees yet again.

    A bush had an unfortunate encounter with this morning's breakfast in a less whole manner as she wretched, hopefully out of the view of her accompanying guards. She clung to the tree, acting like it was the only thing anchoring her to Nirn at that moment.

    Eventually, the soft glow of healing magicka streamed from her hands; she regained her composure enough to stitch close the wound on her right side to the point of being able to stand properly and hobble towards the caravan.

    Awkwardly avoiding the gaze on her hired help, she cleared her throat.

    "Er... thanks. Wouldn't have gone as smoothly without the two of you."

    @Zelda
    @Keidivh
     
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    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    The soothing, calm silence was too good to be true. Kyneth knew that at random his calm respites came to an end just as quickly as they had started, and his slow, rocky descent was no exception. The dwarven architecture behind him he had stood on minutes before, was now cloaked in the mist the falls and heavy rainfall generated. As was most of the terrain that surrounded him. He knew what the fog was covering, a forest of jagged rocks, boulders and sparsely placed trees. But this could not explain the shadows fading in and out of the white clouds around him as he kept pace.

    "KYNETH!" A shrill and frantic female scream dashes right behind him.

    Kyneth whips around swift and calculated, drawing his blade cautiously looking for a source for the startling call. Nothing. A heavy, slow breath releases itself from between pursed lips, as the man turned back on his way. His sword fell into it's scabbard flawlessly, as Kyneth inhaled slowly through his nose. The voices had returned to him again today.

    "Once is never enough, is it?" he spat between gritted teeth, exhaling once more. "Oh how I miss my little fowl friend."

    "......kyneth," a quiet whisper, close enough to feel the breath on his left ear.

    A left hand swats to the left of his head, while a right pulls his axe to the ready. Once more, nothing. The aching feeling of foolishness in his gut began to throb, as his lungs burned as they started to wheeze faster and faster. He knew there was nobody around him, nobody to call his name, but he couldn't help but expect there to be. Attempting to regain control of his quickening breathe, Kyneth drops Prehn back into it's loop and lowers himself to kneel. With his eyes squeezed closed, he focuses on the sound and feeling of his own breaths. The sudden harsh shift in the gravel to his right sent a surge of fear through him, shattering the minimal focus he had. On his feet once again, axe and sword in each hand, Kyneth stares intensely in the direction of the movement. Breathing like a madman, there is no more controlling his breathing. In seconds the burning in his lungs turned into an overwhelming numbness that began to rush over his entire being, and the shade of hyperventilation pushed him into unconsciousness.

    ~8~

    "You wanna kill Kyneth? You want to f***ing kill your own mother now too? HUH? WANNA KILL DEAR OL' MUM?" the memory of his mother's voice filled his ears, pulling Kyneth back to consciousness.

    "YOU MURDERED HER!" He shouted in instinct, as he felt the familiar feeling of blood pumping onto his hand. Around him were surroundings he had not seen before. He was on the road now, along the river - not far from where Kyneth remembered passing out, and it was still pouring.

    "P-please," a gasping breathe choked out at his feet, "finish m-me."

    His gaze dropped down to the body of a bloodied man, wrapped around his right hand which gripped the hilt of the blade stuck through his bleeding torso. Kyneth's blood ran cold as his mind snapped the information together, and he ripped his dagger from the chest of the man. He turned the blade to face downward in his hand, and quickly and powerfully plunged the knife into the man's skull. His body dropped completely onto the stone path, while Kyneth remained frozen in place. It took him another second to resume taking in the information around him; the man wouldn't be missed - nor would his two friends. Three dead Forsworn in the reach was no burden to anyone, aside from himself.

    You're so f****ing weak. That girl made you easy to push, plops-for-brains. I was itching to grab that blade myself, and these depraved individuals were itching to meet it's point.
     

    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    "You bitch!" The bandit behind Valencia staggered back from her second slice to his body. Still with her sword intertwined with the double wielder's axe, the woman quickly twisted and thrust her blessed sword outward, unarming one of the axes. Spinning around, she bashed the bandit with the greatsword with her shield once again, to only return tp the axe wielder to block again with her sword. As the royal appointed knight, her training is the greatest the kingdom to offer. These bandits were mere insects that lingered wherever they could scavenge things from.

    "Be gone, filth!" Turning around, the white haired woman thrust her sword forward, penetrating the greatsword bandit, all the way through. Blood splattered on her crystalline clean armor, before she removed her sword to face the other axe-wielder. "I am surprised to not see you run," She spoke, smirking as their weapons clashed. While Valencia was a sweethearted doll, those unworthy to live would meet her bitter end. "Either courage or foolishness drives you, love." With another slice, she blocked the axe, bashed with her shield, spun, and decapitated the man one-sight. With the following silence, she looked around in worry of losing Ihylin or Rolard. She found Rolard at the edge of the trees, as well as Ihylin, exiting them.

    Running over to the two, Valencia left her shield on her arm as she sheathed her blade. A warm light emanated from both her hands, searching over both of them much like a worried mother. "Are you two alright? No wounds? Cuts? Bruises?" She quickly questioned, the glowing light still as bright as ever. As a Breton, they often become mages, as was her mother. While she was destined with the blade and shield, she mastered the Restoration school. It was a magic that saved her life during her greatest battle.
     

    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    The young woman's cries lasted quite awhile. The rain's mist that traveled beneath the protective tree added to her own tears. She couldn't tell what was the sky's tears and her own upon her cheeks. Once her shaky breaths had evened, she weakly stood, soaked and cold. However, she was not lost. She knew the woods from the back of her head. When looking for ingredients, she needed to remember exactly how to get where and what was where. Walking in the rain, she looked for ingredients she could easily pick as she walked by. With her cottage hidden away in a secluded tiny valley, she had no worries of being unable to find safety.

    Most would never stray away from the roads: bandits, wild animals, and thieves roamed them in an abundance. However, just as she knew her woods, she knew their invisible roads. She knew where the wolves hunted, the thieves and assassins hid, the bandits wandered. Her forest was rather serene, and did not have many of those such vile creatures. The hunters and fishermen of the areas often took care of the vile creatures. And those same people rarely did anything wrong, as they mind their own business, so the small area is seemingly safe. Of course, Eydis had her run ins from time to time, and thanks to pure luck and knowledge of the forest, she was able to escape with her life.

    After a half an hour of walking, she arrived near a hillside that the edge appeared to have a mudslide. On it vines tangled downward of the rocks that were left bare. Knowing exactly where to go, the small woman grabbed some vines and pulled away a board that was camouflaged as the rocky vines, before entering the small space and closing the 'door' tightly behind her. She made her way down a dark cave-like tunnel, lit with lanterns of elongated candles for timely burning. As she walked into the light, a beautiful yet tiny valley emerged. A small waterfall allowed fresh water from the snowy mountains from above and far to enter the small valley, only to exit down a cave. Fish from a large pond swam around a tiny makeshift boat near a small dock. Safe and serene wildlife flourished as large mushrooms, flowers, plants, butterflies, dragonflies, and many other small living things lived happily in the beautiful secret of a small land. While a small area hidden away from the evil world, the sun usually still shined above through the trees way up that barely hid the entrance of what looked like an empty hole in the ground. The rain blocked the sun though, and continued to pour in the sanctuary.

    Inside the small sanctuary, the young woman walked down the stone path she created to a small cottage. The cottage she found many years ago, abandoned and forgotten. While it was almost dead, she revived it by fixing it up, repairing any issues, and controlling the wildlife within the tiny valley. For security, she sealed the sanctuary away from the evil outer world: much like she did with herself. From within, she could safely make potions, sleep, cook, and thrive, without a worry. From above, the place seemed like a dark empty hole that drauger would roam in. Smoke from her house from cooking? Once it reaches the thick brush from above that lined the walls, it looked almost like misty fog from a cavern below. And the hidden door? Bandits and thieves do not look for such things. No one had ever messed with it anyway: the kind of people who steal and murder for things want things in the present, not wasting their time messing with vines. The only way someone could find it would be to physically attempt to remove the vines in such a correct way that the door slides over and open. Never had such a thing occurred.

    Once inside her home, the girl looked to her soaked and muddy white dress with a sigh. Freezing, she first kindled the fire before stripping. She changed into fur clothing more suitable for a Nord, before sitting down by the fire. The thunder lingered still, but did not bother her within her safe haven. With a small rumble of her stomach, the girl picked up a cookbook and began flipping through the pages.
     

    Keidivh

    Noble exile of High Rock
    Upon hearing a pained shriek erupt from the treeline, Rolard cursed himself under his breath, having seemingly failed his mission. The bloodied and wounded Khajit that burst from the woods quickly put these concerns to rest, as it became apparent that the hunted had become the hunter. Said hunter was quick to follow her pray, auburn hair a blur as she sped to her prey, bright flashes of steel quickly ending the Khajit as bursts of crimson came from his neck. To say he was shocked by the display would have been an understatement . Tamriel was a dangerous place, and even the common folk had to be familiar with violence, but such a brutal execution... That wasn't something you'd find your average merchant doing.

    Hmm, what drove you to be such a merciless killer mi'lady?

    When the next bandit emerged, the Bretonic spellsword didn't bother to intercede, curious to see how the bloodthirsty maiden would react. Sidestepping his attack, she drove her blade deep into his back, ending him in but a strike. It was impressive, but sloppy, and even in his death throes the last of the band managed to land a swipe on her side. As the adrenaline seemed to leave her system, the merchant seemed to realize what had transpired, and lost her breakfast from the sight of it all.

    "Er... thanks. Wouldn't have gone as smoothly without the two of you."

    Shaking his head, Rolard let out an amused chuckle before picking up his employer, carefully setting her at the front of the carriage. "No thanks is needed my lady, though might I recommend you let Valencia and I do the fighting next time. You're paying us to take the blows, may as well let us earn it." Glancing over to Val, he was less than surprised to find her foes were quickly and summarily executed. proving her well forged equipment wasn't just for show. Within a few moments, her gently glowing hands were soon searching over him, eagerly seeking any wounds he had received. Her sincere concern was sweet, but unneeded.

    "Are you two alright? No wounds? Cuts? Bruises?"

    Waving her hands away, he attempted to redirect her attention to Ihylin. "Sweet of you dear, but I've lived with far worse wounds than this paper cut. Our little warrior merchant may be in need of care however. Took a nasty hit to the side while she was butchering our would be assailants." Leaving the two for a moment, the young exile went about collecting any and all valuables from the corpses they left scattered about. Weaponry, a couple pieces of poorly made jewelry, and even a couple pouches of Septims. Even managed to clean off his sword on one of the dead. Tossing their spoils of battle into the back of the carriage, he went back to his female companions, tossing a quarter of the newly acquired Septims to each of them.

    "Ah, no better profit than the kind gained through bloody battle." A satisfied smirk rested on his face, much of the tension and frustration cleansed from his mind after shedding blood and feeling steel bite his flesh. It was a temporary fix, but it often was the only thing that distracted him from the shattered remains of his life, and the dark future that awaited his family. Speaking of dark, the storm clouds loomed ever closer, and threatened to unleash a torrent of freezing rain and vicious strikes of lightning.

    "Hmm, I don't think we should travel further, seems Oblivion is about to break lose, and Ihylin isn't looking well. May well be time to set up camp." He waited to see what the others had to say, though he was prepared to argue the point. This storm was far deadlier than the pathetic bandits they faced, and he preferred to have at least some semblance of shelter to weather it.

    @Hart @Zelda
     
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    Hart

    Sassmaster
    Ihylin wasn't expecting him to pick her up, stiffening subtly at his sudden action. The merchant didn't protest however, allowing Rolard to place her near the front of the caravan; sudden exhaustion made her too tired to fight him over something trivial. The knight rushed over to meet them, fluttering her hands about in a worrisome fashion over wounds. Any attempts of waving her off failed, the mothering nature of a healer at work making Ihylin frustrated and embarrassed.

    "Lord Seton, I-- Lady Ildrose, please! I'm fine! I just--I was protecting myself. It was a reaction. I did what I..." She trailed off for a brief moment, reaching up to touch her face, like she was trying to regain some memory of what happened merely moments ago. Her hand, already bloody, came away with a thick maroon paste, crumbling as she rubbed her fingers together.

    "--had to do. By Kyne, what did I do? She murmured quietly. Valencia, despite protest, still fussed over small things, warm light of magicka still flowing around her hands. Knowing she wouldn't step off without reassurance, Ihylin took hold of the knight's wrist, directing her away.

    "I'm alright, Lady Ildrose. Just a small wound. I already closed it up, it wasn't that deep. I think." Rolard had disappeared for a short while, returning with a small sack of gold and tossing it to the merchant. Yet when he mentioned stopping until the storm blew over, she narrowed her eyes at him.

    "We can't stop right now. Another half hour on the road and we'll be fine, we need to leave this area. The storm won't be bad by the time we stop again, working in the rain won't kill us if it's light. These woods are going to be teeming with wolves once they get the scent of blood on the air, and I can't--" Sharp, fiery pains shot up her side, shutting her up immediately, and she doubled over, groaning under her breath. She was going to act like a stubborn ass about the entire thing, but this was from previous experiences that she knew better to linger where blood lie on a path.

    Either way, Ihylin didn't seem like she was in any position to argue with two individuals who were far stronger (and in much better shape) than she.

    @Zelda @Keidivh
     
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    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    "You wanna kill Kyneth? You want to f***ing kill your own mother now too? HUH? WANNA KILL DEAR OL' MUM?" The blade in her shaking hand was sharp enough to lightly cut a crimson line in the skin of the shaking girl's neck. "Well mamma wants to kill too, ay! Mamma wants a turn Kyneth! Mamma wants her turn! Who, who WHO should it be?!"

    "Kyn-" Maree's squeal of fear was cut off by a choking blade to her neck.

    "No, no no no no NO! You shut your f***ing trap, and you" Kyneth's crazed mother spat at her, then turning back to him, "You little plops! You little f***ing plops. You killed my Roark! You killed your own bloody father!"

    Kyneth's youthful face burned hot as tears carved wet paths down his cheeks, the panic and fear in his stomach was something worse than any food poisoning or flu he had ever experienced. Overwhelming and indescribable, the feeling radiated throughout all his veins and limbs. His arms and legs felt too big for the skin that contained them, tight and uncomfortable. No matter how much pain came from the feeling, Kyneth could not control the balled shaking fists that burned at the ends of his straining arms.

    "M-Maree," Kyneth shook as he tried to speak clearly and loudly, "I promise it will be okay, I-I love you sugar-plum."

    Maree's eyes closed tight, squeezing an endless stream of tears as his mother's handful of her hair yanked and jerked her head around. The woman pulled her upwards, stretching the girl's neck tightly. Maree's eyes suddenly shot open in terror, her soul screaming as his mother's arm began to violently saw the dull blade into her throat.

    "I love you t-" her voice was replaced with inhuman bloody gurgles and chokes as the blade tore through the girl's throat, severed arteries now pumping an overwhelming, constant stream of blood down her dying body.

    "Little F***ING bitch, HA," Kyneth's mother screamed in a disturbed cackle, "venomous little WHORE! HA HA!"

    Kyneth's body dropped to it's knees - numb and without feeling. The horror he felt, that he saw. The blade hardly cutting or slicing, but rather ripping and gnawing through his love's flesh. The sound of the chipped, over-used blade trying to carve through Maree's spine was the last Kyneth heard before his ears started to ring so loud he couldn't make anything else out. Her body ripped itself away from it's head as the last bit of skin tore after the knife finally got through the thick center bone. As the city guard kicked through the door behind him, his mother kissed her body-less head before throwing her at his lap. The expression of terror and pain left on her lifeless face sent a shockwave of terror and disbelief down his spine, and into his brain.

    -8-

    "You brought her into that house, so you're f***ing responsible for her death!" The dark shape lunged at Kyneth through the white endless abyss that is his subconscious mind.

    Kyneth winced as the shadow enveloped him and dissipated, "I brought her to save her! I loved her too! I-I loved her too!"

    The man's scream echoed throughout his meditative, blank mind. He would often come here to be alone with his thoughts, and occasionally family. Though the white, blank abyss stretched on endlessly around him, it did not frighten him. Here he was safe, as long as his body was safe in reality. Having tossed the bodies of the savages into the white waters of the Karth, Kyneth quickly found and hid himself in a small tucked away cave. Overlooking the river's path through the terrain toward Solitude and the Sea of Ghosts, the cave was shallow, and just big enough to fit a man Kyneth's size as long as he remained seated. This valuable respite from the storm was perfect for him to meditate, something he needed long before he ran into that girl.

    "Save her? You put her in danger! Father raped her Kyneth, beat and RAPED her every single day she was in that bloody house! BECAUSE OF YOU!" The shadow dove at him once again, enveloping him only to dissipate once more and reform back where it was initially.

    "AND WE KILLED HIM, REMEMBER? We did it together right? That's how you said it, TOGETHER. You loved her too, and you wanted her with us as much as I did. It's OUR fault! Mother killed her because of YOUR STUPID PLAN!" Kyneth's tone was booming and sinister, shrinking the cloud of shadow with every word.

    "you did it together. to protect her. all we wanted was to keep her safe," a new shape spoke, presenting itself from nowhere. It's form was bright, and glowing, and was not a cloud like the shadow. It had form, that of a young girl - no older than 10, in a flowing gown. Her face was an empty blur, and her voice warm, soft and familiar. "and they killed mother because she was the one who murdered your sugar-plum. she is gone because of the darkness inside of mother's heart, the blackness that consumed her being."

    "She needed to be safe, Kyneth. Mother and Father endangered her! They were a threat to her!" The shadow boomed and grew larger than before.

    "and she is dead. so are they." The girl spoke back firmly, breaking and interrupting the shade's outburst.

    "We failed her." Kyneth muttered.

    "you loved her. and she loved you." the girl said, before moving through Kyneth's body with a gentle warmth.

    When Kyneth turned around to look at her, there was nothing but the white abyss in which he stood. Returning to face the shadow, he found that it too was gone, replaced by the endless white. Kyneth nodded decisively, and sat on the ground to mimic the position he began to meditate in. He closed his eyes, and began to breathe deep, controlled and in pattern once again - syncing himself back to reality.
     
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    Zelda

    Princess of Hyrule
    While the flustered Ihylin rambled on to the two guards, Valencia received her answer. While Rolard stated he was fine, the auburn-haired woman said the same, but did not look the same. She was obviously not well-equipped for battle, and went a bit rouge, to the knight's concern. While being dragged away by the merchant, she absolutely wanted to heal her, but felt obliged to not heal her unless she accepted. "I cannot heal you without your consent, love. I will oblige to your wish, but I wish myself to heal you. Do not be afraid to ask. And please... as Lord Seton states, you should leave the fighting to us. It is our duty to protect you, not vise versa."

    Valencia was always a protective one. As a royally appointed knight, it was her duty to serve and risk her life for those who she protected. She was still a Knight of the Roses, but she was also, at that moment, a knight of Ihylin. With the sight of Rolard, she was tossed a bag of gold. She was a bit surprised by the gesture: not the fact that he would share the loot, as he seemed like a generous man, but the fact that not many are generous in Skyrim. It was the reason she was still in Skyrim: she wanted to heal Skyrim's wounds, and protect it, perhaps even from itself. "Well thank you love! Very much appreciated." With a smile, the woman placed it away in her satchel, facing the two as they began to discuss the storm and travel.

    The storm did worry the white-haired knight: illness was her weakness, as her low immune system had always been with her. People questioned her white hair as a child, and with her weak immune system, constantly becoming ill, it was no wonder such conditions worried her. However, throughout the years, she had learned to adapt, and deal with illness. The travels were up to Ihylin, and whatever the plan, Valencia would serve.

    Her thoughts stopped abruptly when the woman beside her doubled over in pain. Rushing over to her side, Valencia placed one hand behind her back and the other in front of her side to hold her up. "Please love: let me heal you if need be. You need it, and you need to rest." Her words were still soft and gentle, but were in a tone that almost seemed worried.

    @Hart @Keidivh
     

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