The OP3RaT0R
Call me Op. Or Smooth.
Aaaaand I posted in the wrong forum. Hopefully this gets moved.
It was Sundas, and Daggerfall was bustling with life. The great spires that rose over the city's amalgam of architectural styles, which were like the rings of a tree in that they each told of a different time in Daggerfall's history, casted odd shadows across the huge city. It made one feel small to look out across this, but at the same time, the city was a sea of life and excitement. Dwarfed by the skyline, Kebu weaved between the noisy throngs of Daggerfellians that crowded the avenue running from the main gates to the towering palace, walking with an unusual lack of purpose. He was headed for the Muddy Boar, a local tavern he frequented and enjoyed, but he had unhappy memories on his mind thanks to the date. In the sea of humanity, only occasionally parted for a clattering cart or palatial procession, Kebu wanted to steal something, not even for fun, but to divert his thoughts. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, illuminating his sea of potential marks under a blue sky.
He chose the first woman he saw dressed somewhat well, a jeweled brooch prominent on her silken gown; he passed her by, discreetly unlocking a street merchant's chicken cage and timing it so that the birds fluttered out just as she walked into their path. The sight of his plan working perfectly cheered him a little as he swooped into action, hurrying up behind her and bumping past, swatting at the aimless fowl and swiping the mark's jewelry imperceptibly, then sliding into an alley before she knew what had hit her. Luckily, he could take the path he had chosen the rest of the way down to the Muddy Boar.
When he emerged into the avenue once more, he was right by the tavern, and on his way in, he fished out a handful of Septims for a copy of the local paper being peddled by the door. As he pushed through the wooden door into the cozy dimness of the sparsely-filled tavern, he looked down at the paper and frowned.
"Oy there," said James, or Jemsé, the pleasantly plump proprietor of the Muddy Boar when Kebu took a seat at the bar.
"What brings you here, mate?" he asked in his thick Wayrest accent - the man was well loved by the city 'in spite of' it, Kebu was told, but he didn't see how his accent was different from anyone native to Daggerfall, let alone why it would matter.
"Something strong," Kebu answered a bit dejectedly.
"What is it, noon?" Jemsé asked with a bit of a joking lilt. When Kebu didn't have a retort, he followed, "Oll right then. How you gonna pay?"
Kebu slid the brooch across the table.
"You must be awful thirsty. Go on then, what's got ya down?" he said, preparing a drink.
"Today," he began, looking off through one of the small windows at the tavern's front and tapping on the bar with a Septim, "seven years ago today-"
"Was the Warp," Jemsé interjected.
"...Was the day I was exiled from Hammerfell. Never to return for a period of seven years."
"So?" Jemsé asked, setting a glass of brandy before him. "I thought you hated that place."
"I do," Kebu said.
"Well then, what's the issue? You don't have that hanging over you any longer, you should be glad."
"Yeah, yeah, I should, but it's all I can think of today." He took a swig of brandy, feeling the warm tingling sensation it brought to his throat. "I feel like- like I'm going to wind up back there sometime soon, much as I want to never go back."
"Then just don't go back!" Jemsé said. "Can it be that hard?"
"I don't know, Jemsé, I don't know."
"Boy, you're no fun today, Kebu."
Kebu gave a little melancholy chuckle. "Come back when I'm a little deeper into my cups and maybe I'll be more cheery."
Kebu leaned on one elbow as Jemsé walked down the bar, preoccupying himself with the drying of glasses and maintenance of the smooth oak surface. The Redguard turned back to his liquor, but after a short time, Jemsé was back around.
"Did you ever tell me what you were exiled for?" he asked.
"Once, maybe."
"Refresh my memory," Jemsé said.
"Well, I did a lot of things - you know that time wasn't exactly ticking right back then - and I don't remember more than fragments of a lot of it, but after those two days were up and time was running normally again, I was in the arms of a pair of Sentinel palace guards with a bag of jewels and finery at my feet." Kebu chuckled. "They threw me on a boat here that day."
"Oh, that's rough. Have another drink," Jemsé said.
"Best thing that ever happened to me. And thanks," Kebu answered, sliding his empty glass to the barkeep.
It was Sundas, and Daggerfall was bustling with life. The great spires that rose over the city's amalgam of architectural styles, which were like the rings of a tree in that they each told of a different time in Daggerfall's history, casted odd shadows across the huge city. It made one feel small to look out across this, but at the same time, the city was a sea of life and excitement. Dwarfed by the skyline, Kebu weaved between the noisy throngs of Daggerfellians that crowded the avenue running from the main gates to the towering palace, walking with an unusual lack of purpose. He was headed for the Muddy Boar, a local tavern he frequented and enjoyed, but he had unhappy memories on his mind thanks to the date. In the sea of humanity, only occasionally parted for a clattering cart or palatial procession, Kebu wanted to steal something, not even for fun, but to divert his thoughts. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, illuminating his sea of potential marks under a blue sky.
He chose the first woman he saw dressed somewhat well, a jeweled brooch prominent on her silken gown; he passed her by, discreetly unlocking a street merchant's chicken cage and timing it so that the birds fluttered out just as she walked into their path. The sight of his plan working perfectly cheered him a little as he swooped into action, hurrying up behind her and bumping past, swatting at the aimless fowl and swiping the mark's jewelry imperceptibly, then sliding into an alley before she knew what had hit her. Luckily, he could take the path he had chosen the rest of the way down to the Muddy Boar.
When he emerged into the avenue once more, he was right by the tavern, and on his way in, he fished out a handful of Septims for a copy of the local paper being peddled by the door. As he pushed through the wooden door into the cozy dimness of the sparsely-filled tavern, he looked down at the paper and frowned.
11th of Frostfall, 3E 324
Today marks the seventh anniversary of the end of the Miracle of Peace, when the Great and Illustrious Kingdom of Daggerfall brought an end to the endless wars that formerly plagued the land, bringing the many rebellious city-states under its flag. The day also brought improved relations with the neighboring kingdoms of Sentinel and Wayrest, as well as a renewed alliance of the Empire...
"Oy there," said James, or Jemsé, the pleasantly plump proprietor of the Muddy Boar when Kebu took a seat at the bar.
"What brings you here, mate?" he asked in his thick Wayrest accent - the man was well loved by the city 'in spite of' it, Kebu was told, but he didn't see how his accent was different from anyone native to Daggerfall, let alone why it would matter.
"Something strong," Kebu answered a bit dejectedly.
"What is it, noon?" Jemsé asked with a bit of a joking lilt. When Kebu didn't have a retort, he followed, "Oll right then. How you gonna pay?"
Kebu slid the brooch across the table.
"You must be awful thirsty. Go on then, what's got ya down?" he said, preparing a drink.
"Today," he began, looking off through one of the small windows at the tavern's front and tapping on the bar with a Septim, "seven years ago today-"
"Was the Warp," Jemsé interjected.
"...Was the day I was exiled from Hammerfell. Never to return for a period of seven years."
"So?" Jemsé asked, setting a glass of brandy before him. "I thought you hated that place."
"I do," Kebu said.
"Well then, what's the issue? You don't have that hanging over you any longer, you should be glad."
"Yeah, yeah, I should, but it's all I can think of today." He took a swig of brandy, feeling the warm tingling sensation it brought to his throat. "I feel like- like I'm going to wind up back there sometime soon, much as I want to never go back."
"Then just don't go back!" Jemsé said. "Can it be that hard?"
"I don't know, Jemsé, I don't know."
"Boy, you're no fun today, Kebu."
Kebu gave a little melancholy chuckle. "Come back when I'm a little deeper into my cups and maybe I'll be more cheery."
Kebu leaned on one elbow as Jemsé walked down the bar, preoccupying himself with the drying of glasses and maintenance of the smooth oak surface. The Redguard turned back to his liquor, but after a short time, Jemsé was back around.
"Did you ever tell me what you were exiled for?" he asked.
"Once, maybe."
"Refresh my memory," Jemsé said.
"Well, I did a lot of things - you know that time wasn't exactly ticking right back then - and I don't remember more than fragments of a lot of it, but after those two days were up and time was running normally again, I was in the arms of a pair of Sentinel palace guards with a bag of jewels and finery at my feet." Kebu chuckled. "They threw me on a boat here that day."
"Oh, that's rough. Have another drink," Jemsé said.
"Best thing that ever happened to me. And thanks," Kebu answered, sliding his empty glass to the barkeep.