Open When in Skyrim, Do As The...?

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    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    He took the bowl and secretly admired the mark of a good alterator, although so far the boy only demonstrated his telekinetic skills. He picked up a stray fork and began eating bits of the strew, pausing to talk between long bites. "The one thing I didn't take a shining to in the Marsh was their drink; a fine wine suits me, but it's hard to get a good Surilie 415. I even had the pleasure of enjoying a 399 with Jean-Pierre Surilie* some years ago... he's probably gone now." He said solemnly - he had seen many people come and go from this world.
    "A good mead is all you need in this land." Thorek said, his mouth full of food. Saloman laughed silently at the boldness of the nord, as he had always admired the natives of this land.
    He stopped eating and turned his head to the floor for a few seconds. He turned to Rathalos and looked right through him;
    "Tell me, tribal, is your clan truly lost, or have you given up hope?"

    ((*I was gonna put Davide Surilie but I realised he died like 200 years ago in the 3rd Era :L))
     

    CapObvious

    A Rotten Scroungeral
    Carenen and Kaalys were still at the inn, exhausted from the events over the last few days. They laid in the bed together, Carenen holding her tightly to his chest.

    In the world behind Carenen's eyelids, the world was all right again. Kaalys was back. He himself was back, and they were away from her blasted father. Things couldn't have been better in his opinion. Kaalys, however...

    Kaalys lie awake next to him, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with the frightening future that awaited her back on the isles. Her father, who believed Carenen long dead, was going to have to find out that not only was he alive, but that she had disobeyed him and fallen in love with him again. Sharp feelings of guilt wracked her brain, and she sighed. She took a look at her long lost lover, and how peacefully he slept. How lucky he was, that didn't have the same problems as she.

    Almost as if summoned, Carenen awoke. His eyes were trained on Kaalys', which were misty. He clutched her tighter, and kissed her forehead. He didn't say a word, and Kaalys didn't mind. He didn't have to say another blasted word again, as long as he was right beside her to the end.

    They both closed their eyes, and finally fell asleep.
     

    Rathalos_lord_of_the_sky

    -Bnahabra King-
    Rath paused for a moment. He never thought of it, it was true the clan could be rebuilt, but not in High Rock. "All but 8 clan members died." He said in between bites. "We agreed it would be best if we.. Never spoke again." He looked at the floor. "Though, I was next in line to reign. The future of the Clan is up to me."
    "Ni thuighm." He shook his head at the thought and continued eating.
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Saloman nodded, understanding, but couldn't help crack a smile; he could be mean with his knowledge at times.
    "So you would rather live a life never intended for you, one where you are far from happy, living in the shadow of terrible events?" He finished eating and put the bowl on the side, turning to Rath with his hands together, invisible under his drooping cloak. From Rath's position he could see the man was wearing a blindfold under his cloak, not to mention a faint smile. His cheek was adorned with tribal paint and on the opposite side burst capillaries had stained his cheek from a trauma many years ago.
     

    Rathalos_lord_of_the_sky

    -Bnahabra King-
    Rath finished eating, his bowl landed on top of the other. "I like to believe that I was brought here for a reason." He stood up and began pacing. "I will rebuild, I must, but I 'm young. They won't follow someone so... Inexperienced..." He paused, placing a hand on his hilt. He straightened his back and stood at attention. "I will serve Mi'lady unto death." He broke form and continued pacing. "But my years of training are not enough, I must learn more. I still haven't mastered Telekinesis. I need to find a proper teacher."
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Saloman laughed a bit, then more, until he was cracking up with laughter.
    "A teacher, boy? You think the best magisters in the known world had teachers?" He continued to laugh until the ruckus was broken when he snapped out of his giggles and waved a hand across the room, sending a table in the corner flying into the wall and smashing into pieces. He then looked at Rath for a second before returning to laugher. "Telekinesis!" He exploded, apparently very amused.
    "We'd better get back." Thorek interrupted, which halted Saloman's laughter once more. "But why, child? You're already where you need to be, unless the fabric of time has lied to us all." He grinned at Thorek, whose face was turning even more disturbed. "Don't test me, you old fool!" He blurted, standing up and putting a hand on his belt to ready his axe.

    Thorek was on the other side of the room before Saloman could snap his fingers. He hit the wall with a thud which sent alchemical ingredients from shelves falling to the floor around him. He rubbed his head and stumbled out of the room, his beard pointing straight like a starched pair of pantaloons. Saloman turned to Ratholos once more;
    "Your friend is right. We'd better get going."
     

    Rathalos_lord_of_the_sky

    -Bnahabra King-
    "You ever heard of the college? Or the Arcane university? Yes a lot of mages had teachers you Bosh'tet." With a wave of a hand the shelf swung itself across the room halting just before hitting the old man. "Don't want to make a mess now do we?" It slowly rested on the ground, everything still in place. "We? No, me and Thorek need to be going."
    Rath placed a hand on his hilt. "Lady Namira give me strength!" He crouched down ready to block any incoming blow. "All you dimwitted elders do is underestimate the young." Rath eyes dilated as he hissed, and growled.
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Saloman stood still for a moment before cracking up again.
    "Perhaps we underestimate because you rarely prove yourself."
    Thorek lurched forward and grabbed Rathalos by the shoulder before they both removed themselves from the shack. "Oh you may try and escape the path you take, but all roads lead back to destiny." He said watching them go.

    On the way back to Ivarstead they had a good laugh about the old man at his expense, all that talk of destiny and fate - "Hogwash!" They laughed, glad to be out of there. Once they had reached a good distance from the shack a creaking could be heard loud in the distance. They turned to see the speck that was the wizard's hut crumble into the ground. The dust settled and there appeared to be no remnants of what had been there; it was as if the structure had never existed. They'd have laughed at his misfortune if it weren't so ominously predictive of the events to come.

    As they walked into the village it could be noted, if one were so observational, that a much higher number of luna moths had filled the air, especially as evening was only just coming into position. They quickly found Myra who was wondering where they had gone and stored the spoils of their hunt in the caravan. They headed to the inn for a stiff drink after the strange events of the day.
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Thorek stopped eating his hogroast roll for a second and replied to her;
    "Yes... 'well'..." Not knowing what else to say, he tucked back in to his pork sandwich, taking mouthfuls of mead as he went. "Though I will say, this journey is becoming stranger as we go. I fear bad tidings in our next travel."

    The door swung open, as it had done many times before that evening, so Thorek ignored it. A cloaked man wandered in and approached the bar, leaving a black cane near the entrance. The barkeep smiled and welcomed him in, offering him a drink on the house. The hooded man was short and his voice was unheard over the bustle of the inn, but it appeared that he gladly accepted a glass of wine from the kind bartender.

    The man did not turn his gaze to the others, however, as he continued to drink and engage in conversation with the barkeep and the others of the inn, who all seemed to revere him for some reason.
     

    CapObvious

    A Rotten Scroungeral
    Despite the pairs fondness of lazing about, hunger eventually called. That, and the voices of their comrades broke through the silence and clamoring of idle chatter and lute strings.

    Carenen and Kaalys exited their room, quickly spotting the group eating. Without ordering any food, Kaalys plopped down next to Myra, and smiled. "How are you feeling, Lady Aredreyn?" She asked, playful tone working on the last two words.

    Carenen headed over to the keep and asked for some steak, along with two spiced wines for the wait. He carried them over after dropping off some coin, and took a seat across from Kaalys. He noticed Thorek looked a little more...out of it, he guessed than usual. Before he could ask what was wrong, his eyes caught the sight of the hooded man at the bar. His curiosity nearly got the better of him, but Kaalys brought him back to earth with a small kick. "Wake up, dear." He shook his head, clearing his mind, and smiled at Kaalys. He spoke aloud, to the entire table, to break the small silence. "Everyone feeling alright? It's dead quiet over here."
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Thorek grunted to Carenen but kept his eyes fixed on the bar; He'd never been fond of mages, but mysterious hooded men looming around him? He was on edge like a cat on heat. He could've sworn for a second that the man turned to give him a cheeky grin, but he stopped himself from launching up when he realised he didn't want to stir anything up at the table.

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

    "He knows." Saloman thought as he shot a smile towards Carenen. "Yes... He will be interesting."
    "Valtieri!" Said the barkeep, "You look a little distracted tonight, is something wrong?"
    The old man turned to him, the glass of wine in hand, and addressed the whole group around him;
    "People of Ivarstead, I will be leaving you once more. This time, however, I fear I will not return."
    There was shock throughout his close friends who had come to depend on him;
    "So I suppose you want us to go to those sodding Greybeards for our wisdom now?" Said one disgruntled patron.
    "Now stop with that talk! I've leaving and that's enough. If you seek me out, you shall never find me; you will find my home has been dismantled, as it has been before."

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

    Thorek couldn't make out what the man was saying over the noise of the crowd in the the inn, so he continued to grumble as the others spoke; back to his old self it seemed. He took another drink of mead and looked to Carenen. He thought for a second that perhaps he was actually making friends on this trip - that maybe his uselessness as a guide was unheard of as long as he remained loyal to the group. He drunk to his pathetic self and slammed an empty bottle of mead onto the table, gazing at the others with a hard face.
     

    Patricia

    Not Death's Bitca
    "Potion. Hangover from Oblivion. Potion fix. Potion wear off. Dying.", Myra groaned. She'd have Corelas fetch the other bottle for her once she could speak above a slurring mumble. He seemed more than willing to be a dog for her. She'd have found the sweetness in it any other day, but today she found him, and pretty much everything else, overly annoying.
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Thorek looked at Myra under bushy eyebrows and seemed to glare at her. His tone was low as he spoke;
    "Where is your next destination, my lady?" He said. It had been long since he'd addressed Myra as such - he felt more like a member of this party than the guide. But he remembered his role again.

    ((Speaking of which, haven't we come a long way? :3))
     

    CapObvious

    A Rotten Scroungeral
    Carenen took a bite of his steak, his mind on the trip ahead. But mostly, it was plagued with the past few weeks. He had accomplished so much, yet...Another kick from Kaalys, and Carenen cleared his throat. He knew the question was for Myra, but he felt it would be okay to answer.

    "We should be getting close to Dawnstar, I hope." He chuckled a bit and smiled at Thorek. "You should know, being our guide and all!" He chided playfully. He hoped that a little joke here and there would bring Thorek out of his brooding, but Carenen was never good at lightening the mood.

    Then, his eyes caught the old hooded man at the bar, who had stood up to say something earlier, which was drowned out by the sound from the boisterous drunks surrounding their table. The man's gaze kept returning to him, then to Thorek, and it made Carenen not only uneasy, but a little peeved. The drink must have been getting to him.

    Carenen's hand rested on his blade's hilt, and he coughed to get Thorek's attention. "We might have some trouble, Thorek." He whispered, nodding his head to the hooded man. Before Thorek could turn to see what he was talking about, Carenen stood and approached the man, calmly.

    The man looked to be old. Experience and hard times practically oozed from every wrinkle on his aged face. Surely this man meant no harm, but Carenen was never one to leave any possibilities off the table. He placed his drink on the counter, and spoke to the man without looking to him. "Sir, I hate to bother you like this, but you are making my friend and I a little uncomfortable with the way you are looking at us. Have we wronged you or something?" He hoped he come off as polite, not wanting to start a fight while trying to steer away from the one that was brewing right then.

    Kaalys just watched the pair of them, her hands running along her daggers compulsively.
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    Thorek kept his eyes sharp but his head fixed away from Carenen. He hunkered within himself and allowed his hearing to overcome all senses - drowning out the noise of the merry patrons in the bar. He loosened his legs from the bench and rested a hand on the table, the other one drifting to his belt.

    The old man turned and looked at Carenen, and he could see the man was struck blind - a white blindfold covering his eyes under the dark hood.
    "Not yet, but give it time." He laughed. The drunks of the bar all seemed to ignore the man who had approached the wizard.
    "Boy, I'll be calling you boy as you elves age so slow, despite living many lifetimes of men, you approach your enemy in their own quarters surrounded by their men. Do you still consider yourself a soldier, or do you merely not want to spark a battle?" He showed a warm grin to him.
    "Still... you can't be that simple, you seem to have that brute under control. Him and that tribal are on the edge of their blades when I'm around. People always challenge what they don't understand, don't they?" He laughed a little and shot Carenen a sideways grin.

    "Now I will give you a real answer, or at least a better one, as that did not please you. No, boy, you have not offended me. I'm simply going to travel with you to wherever you may go, whether you know where that lies or not." He smiled again. Any other man would've called this man some kind of dark magister - a conjurer of necromancer... but he hoped Carenen would understand his true intentions, if he was as perceptive as he thought.
     

    Patricia

    Not Death's Bitca
    Corelas held the potion that Myra asked for in his hands, and walked to her. She had her head on the table, and he could tell just by looking at her that she was in a foul mood. He understood why Kaalys and Carenen could sit with her; they had known her for longer. But him... He would give her the potion and leave her be. He barely knew her, and yet, he felt like he owed her something. She did, after all, make him a potion that let him talk as he liked. But right now, he knew his head would be ripped off of his neck if he said something. He walked over, quietly put the bottle on the table, and walked away to get a drink. Myra downed the liquid and lay her head back on the table. Corelas took his drink, and leaned on the counter, watching the old man talk to Carenen. He couldn't help but think he looked familiar.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Myra mumbled something about Whiterun before, setting her head back down, and when her head had cleared enough, she realized that someone was talking to Rumare Carenen. She opened an eye, and looked up to see a withering old Breton in Gray-Blue robes. He spoke in riddles, though it sometimes sounded like tongues. She was amused (mean drunk), but as she went back to herself, it became curiosity; and curiosity became fascination; and fascination became admiration. He reminded her of her childhood magics teacher. She listened quietly.
     

    Patricia

    Not Death's Bitca
    (Woah, dude, you're right! You can never see his face, and his voice actor does the Nordic elderly men's voice, and I seriously thought Valcelmo was a Nord o_O. Pretend I didn't describe Saloman, okay? I can't change it on my phone...)
     

    TomLeViking

    Call me Tom; or don't
    The old man pushed passed Carenen when he took a few seconds to digest what had just been said. He walked to the table and put a hand on the shoulder of Thorek, which made him flinch. The nord did not move further, however, he just kept his eyes fixed forward on Myra. As did Saloman, incidentally, as he asked her "So what's wrong with you, girl? Are you as troubled as the rest of this poor excuse for a therapy session masquerading as travelers or is it simply catastrophic hangover?" He grinned down at her, and she could see the man was stricken blind.
     

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