Private The Lost Sands of Volenfell

[UnLonged]

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There are legends that a legendary hammer, forged for the great Daedra Lord Malacath, Volendrung, is buried somewhere in the lands where that hammer once fell - Hammerfell. Some say that it is buried, deep underground, in a place called Arkilftand in the very place that it fell and the Rourken Dwemer made their home.​

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And who's to say that you could not get that hammer for yourself? And so, you and five others go to venture to Arkilftand - but the journey will be long. You will need three keys to penetrate the door that houses Volendrung (and the mechanical beast that guards it), but those keys are useless without a certain enchanting spell. A spell that can only be learned in a book, housed in a Dwarven museum in Taneth. It will require cunning, strength and agility to get your hands on the legendary warhammer of Malacath. Do you have what it takes?​

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-PLAYERS-​

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---------------~Thread Moderators~---------------​

|Captain Nagisus|​

"Eccentric Argonian pool of knowledge and adventurer extraordinaire, Nagisus"​

|death raider|​

"Bosmer ranger hardened by injustice, Lena"​

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|E14H|​

"Redguard monk isolated from Mundus plague of materialism and ignorance, Asif"​

|Boudica|​

"Of orc and nord descent; hard as a wall, cold as a stone, Uglúk"​

|Alexstrasza|​

"Undead nord of pure vampire blood heritage yet of kind heart, Klara Many-Winters"​

|leepdroon|​

"Argonian guardian of flora and fauna, Leepdroon Antepion"​

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-RULES-​

!!!READ EVERYTHING!!!​

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As indicated by the Captain, there are three kinds of rule in this RP. There's orange - "Ah -- you're pushin' it." - and red - "Alright - yar takin' the piss." Break 1 orange rule and you get a warning, break 3 and your character gets punished. Break 1 red rule, your character gets punished, break 3 and your character gets punished WHOPPINGLY. If you break a rule, the OPs and I will notify you to tell you to edit your post. And there's yellow - "You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps." - these aren't rules with punishments, they are guidelines. Recommendations.​

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1. This is not an 18+ RP. Keep it suitable for kids.​

2. Do not get into loud, shouty arguments with your fellow RPers. I have enough stress as it is.​

3. If you get punished for something, be mature about it. We understand you'll be upset that your character lost their weapon in a fight with a werebear and you have to use a terrible weapon, but don't start whinging.​

4. No godmodding.​

5. No one-liners. Simple.​

6. No OOC lines are to be included in your posts here, use the separate thread.​

7. Don't be the guy who, every time there's a weak-ish enemy, one-shot-kills it. Sometimes people like to be creative in the way they kill things. Take turns eating snake heads, don't kill them every time they appear.​

8. Swearing is allowed, but nothing over the top. Preferably you would use other words instead of it (to lower my character's swearing I commonly replace swears with "histsap" or "Is-Not").​

9. Part of this RP is relationships. Don't be the loner who ignores everyone (unless your loner has a sad backstory that makes everyone really sympathetic and caring). No matter what, you have to have a relationship (be it love, like or hate) with one other character.​

10. Post at least once a day. Exceptions can be made if you really couldn't squeeze in one post, or if you haven't been getting alerts.​

11. No meta-gaming, whatever it is you have read about in the OOC should not be immediately known by your character unless stated otherwise. You and your character do not share a brain.​

12. Try to keep posts to one paragraph or more (five decent-length sentences or more).​

13. Questions are encouraged if things are a bit fuzzy to you.​

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14. Have fun.​

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Starting posts of each character should indicate their reasons for joining a group of adventurers in the helping of an Orcish clan get the legendary hammer, Volendrung.​

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Starting location is already in Hammerfell, in an orcish stronghold in the midst of the great Alik'r Desert. How you got there is up to you.​

 

[UnLonged]

Midday. Somewhere in the unforgiving sands of the Alik'r Desert. The scorching heat of the sun is enough to cook food upon a metallic surface. The absence of clouds worsen the situation of what's below them as if the gods themselves sentenced the living creatures that wander its dunes to death. Beasts feasting upon the carcasses of their own to appease their hunger. Shadows of carnivorous birds circle above any and all beings, waiting for their meal to finally tire and fall down to accept their demise.




An orcish stronghold can be seen in the distance. Its structures are covered in drapes that provide small comfort from the heat. The state the hold is in would make anyone wonder why it is stationed in such harsh lands, with all the amenities they have, they could easily find a better place to inhabit. A group of adventurers stand in the midst of the area, as if waiting for someone. The doors of the longhouse open and an orc walked through it. He is old for his kind but to others, he is still much young and can still go on. The orc sat down on the ground crowded with carpets. He gestured for the adventurers to sit down before taking a sip of water from a leather canteen.

 

[Captain Nagisus]

Grunting in annoyance, Nagisus took a seat on a slightly rotted wooden chair. Bah. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Lena. Always dragging me along. Bah, I say. This village, this adventure and this entire province is a Humbug. He was wearing, rather than his normal, insulated armour for the cold and unyielding blizzards of Skyrim, a faded, grey, torn set of robes, with some quite thin cloth underneath, onto which some Elven-made armour was attached. Around his mouth, nose and neck was a faded grey rag to match his robes and protect him from sandstorms (there was no need for eye protection, thanks to secondary eyelids). Despite his clear disdain for deserts, he simply waved a hand at the leather canteen, waving off the offer. His neck was quite swollen - he, as with most Argonians from Lilmoth, had small-ish packets to hold water and conserve it for slow use.

He rubbed some sand from his secondary eyelids, blinked a bit, then took off the rag. "Simply thinking out loud, my good brute, but don't you Stronghold-Orcs only live in eastern High Rock and across the four corners of Skyrim?...Or, say, didn't I hear something about Orsinium falling? Refugees, eh? Trust me, I know how hard it can be for refugees, having to live in awful places. I've snuck into Windhelm. Murdered somebody in public due to rage building up, and revealed I was an Argonian in the process. And that's why I'm not allowed in Eastmarch or near anyone racist anymore."

 

[UnLonged]

"Don't mock us, lizard." an orc clad in their traditional armor stepped forward with his hand gripping his war axe that dangle on his side. The old orc raised his hand to ease the angered guard. He simply smiled at the argonian's remark, his fangs protrude even more as he did. Despite his brutish and tough exterior, he is quite calm in comparison to his brethren. "No, we are not refugees. Orsinium has its conflicts as our current leader has his own views with regards to Malacath. I didn't call you all here for talks of politics and religion." The hot-headed guard spat on the ground at the mention of the religious conflict Orsinium is having, displaying his distaste with the matter.

"As I was saying, we are not here for our issues back home. As you can see, this stronghold is not really built to last. This is more of a temporary shelter for us." he gestured his arm around the stronghold as he speak. Though the overall structure of the stronghold is sound, they are not built like the usual strongholds seen across High Rock and Skyrim. "We are not planning on staying in this wasteland for long. I assume you all know of what I desire?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The argonian walked on the simmering sands. Even his cold blood was not enough to stand the unendurable heat. "These things are those... that... make me wish I hadn't been greedy at those stables in Whiterun..." Some rattlesnakes were heard hissing in reaction to the new being they were not used to. Vultures flew around his head, waiting patiently for his last gasp. Finally, a stronghold appeared on the horizon. "Looks like the place where the adventurers are supposed to meet." He thought.

He rememebered how he decided to go searching for the legendary hammer:
During a research at the College, he read a brief reference in a book to Arkilftand and what it was holding inside and felt curious. J'Zargo lent him a book about it's location and according to gossips from Inn's, the location was going to be explored by a group of adventurers who were sheltered in an Orcish Stronghold in the desert of Hammerfell. After a lot of bribing, intimidating and persuasion, he managed to get a man who ran a library to mark the location on his map. He set off from Riften after aiding Maven Black-Briar against the family Sypho. She gave him a green flask before he left saying "If you want to become a werecrocodile, just smell this potion, it has the ingredient which you are alergic to and, as you know, you won't know until you do me "that" favor." "Even I have some standards for money..." "Yes... I don't care about your denial, no favor, no knowledge of your alergy. Don't abuse of it! If you smell it too often, your blood may speed up and make your heart burst! At least that's what Ingun told me. I recomend you wait at least two days before transforming again. Good luck in your search. I don't know why you want a weapon... If you need power, you could just keep helping my family..." "I don't do this for power... I want to improve my knowledge in magic exploring Volenfell, make friends and perhaps improve other skills..." He replied, trying to look wise to the most influencial person in Riften. "I see... You are widely insane to leave one of the safest provinces in Tamriel, but you have good reasons. I wish you luck, my servant." "I thought we agreed in calling each other by our real names..." "Yeah, whatever..." Maven said going back to her mansion.

Already near the stronghold, Leepdroon heard an orc saying "We are not planning on staying in this wasteland for long. I assume you all know of what I desire? "I believe I have a slight idea..." Leepdroon responded, standing in front of the open doors. "Pardon me for my delay. I should have bought a horse in order to get here faster..." He said, still gasping from the blunt walk he was forced to do through the boiling desert.

 

[death raider]

Lena sat down on a small stump in the orc camp, as she was the first one there, waiting for the other eager adventureres to arrive. Lena watched and listened as her so called friend Nagisus, an orc guard and an adventurer who had just arrived bagan to talk amongst eachother. Lena was not one to interupt others so sat still not really taking in what was being said, just wanting the other adventurers to arrive so she could get on finding the great artifact Volendrug.

Lena looked around as clouds of sand smuthered her face, causing her to spiit out sand which had crept into her mouth. Lena stood up and moved into to a small tent which had been set up by her as she didn't know how long she could have been staying there, in the Orc camp. Lena lay herself on a small bedroll in the tent and gave a small thought to herself.
" What will happen when you set off on our journey? Will we all return?" she thought to herself, then deciding to answer her second question as she was almost certain some people would die as the places they would have to go, would be dangerous and desolate. Lena got up and decided she had to atleast try and be a bit social. Lena crept to the entrance of the tent and crossed her legs looking at others, trying to listen to the conversation as much as she could.

 

[Captain Nagisus]

"Something to do with a hammer. And The Hammer. And somewhere here in Hammerfell. You guys must like hammers." Nagisus then noticed Lena come into the longhouse doorway, after the rather strange fellow Argonian had entered, and gestured for her to sit on the vacant chair next to him. He whispered to her, "Are you still angry at me? I know we had a fight, but I hate dry places. I grew up in the biggest swamp from here to Aetherius and everything inbetween." He coughed slightly, as some sand being blown about outside had gone through the open doorway and gotten down his lungs. He then turned back to the Orc. "So, why's this hammer so important?"

 

[E14H]

Asıf walked through the Alik’r desert, his mind adrift in fond memories of the harsh sun, dry sand, and vicious winds—the land of his home. He smiled softly; it was good to be back.

As a swift shriek of wind cut past him, Asıf pulled the hood of his dark cloak further over his face and continued onward. It wasn’t the time to get lost in sentimentality. He was back within his burning homeland for a reason. His thoughts drifted to the letter within his robes: crisp parchment, harsh lettering, and a request from an old orc. It seemed they were in need of assistance. And who was he to deny help to the sincere? In reply to the orc’s urgent letter, Asıf had come back to his beginning.

Twitching slightly, Asıf chastised himself. He wasn’t here for recreation, and it seemed, he had arrived.

With sharp movements Asıf wrapped his robes more firmly around his thin frame. At the entrance to the orc stronghold he displayed the letter and was given entrance. With efficient strides Asıf followed the various directions of the harsh, muscled orsimer around him, smiling kindly at their rough, often misunderstood mannerisms.

Asıf halted as he neared a carpeted sitting area in which a small gathering had taken seat. He quietly moved to sit with them, catching the end half of an argonian’s enquiry about the importance of a hammer. He smiled thinly in reply to an old orc’s piercing look, obviously the writer of the letter, and displayed his rosary. As the orc’s dark eyes alighted in recognition, Asıf sat formally. He kneeled on the floor, folded his legs beneath his thighs, and rested his rear upon his heels. Unfolding his hood from his face he calmly rested his hands in his lap, waiting.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Leepdroon entered the stronghold, limping due to the exposure to the scalding weather. Shaking, he kneeled in front of the Orcs and their leader. "Greetings... I am here to help finding Volendrung." He then took out of his satchel a small flask. It had a glowing green liquid inside it, bubbling seductively. Most orcs reacted suspicious about it.

"I have a disease... I don't control it. But I appear to recognize people when I transform into... a werecrocodile." Two of the orcs grabbed their weapons' hilts. "As a matter of respect and symbol of my will to carry your orders I give it to the person who will lead us in Arkilftand. It is up to you if you wish me to transform into a beast at your service or let it be buried somewhere never to be found again. It is at your disposal. If you wish me to transform, just make me smell it's steam."

Leepdroon tried to stand up without relying on the floor with his hands, so that he looked good in front of the fellow adventurers. It was quite an effort, but he managed to do it successfully. He approached the orc chief of the orcs and stretched his arm, waiting for the wise orc to respond to his offer.

 

[UnLonged]

"Yes, a hammer. Not just a regular hammer, but one of daedric nature. If you have strong feelings against this and that it may hinder your goals, then by all means, leave now." he extended his arm to the direction of the open gates of the stronghold and far over the ruthless horizon.

His eyes caught the attention of the other argonian, obviously not accustomed to the harsh weather the great desert possess. He spoke of the name of the hammer that should have enlightened those among them that are unaware of what they are commissioned for. The argonian then took out a mysterious liquid and presented it to the chieftain, before explaining what it was for and its effect on his affliction. The old orc gave a hearty laugh and showed his open palm as if to push away the argonian. "I like your spirit, young one. I bet you've punched numerous orcs that called you a milk drinker. I won't be leading you to your adventure, someone else will have that honor."

The burly orc behind him stood forward and bashed his right arm lightly against his chest as a form of greeting. "I am Larguz-Bar, I would be accompanying you in this journey." The tall orc looked upon the argonian who he claims to be a werecrocodile and took the bottle. "I will ensure that the trust you gave me would not be misplaced and that I would do my utmost best to make sure that we won't be in a situation where we would rely on your beastly nature."

"Before I brief you of your situation, are there any concerns that I should know about?" said the chieftain, looking upon the adventurers as he comb his greying beard with his fingertips.

 

[Alexstrasza]

Klara walked along a desert path that was dug in over the years of travelers and the occasional war party. Her pale white skin was burning up in the sun and the heat wasn't helping. She looked out of underneath her hood to the Orc Stronghold ahead.

"That should be it.."

Klara walked towards the stronghold, two large orcs watched closely as she walked past. The stronghold was large but a temporary one. She looked around for the orc who had come in contact with her.

 

[death raider]

Lena carried on to watch new people arrive at the Stronghold. She was excited and she was happy to have her lover and friend with her, Nagisus who came next to her and apoligised for the fight tthey had on their way to the Stronghold. Lena crept her hand into Nagisus's and then put her head on his shoulder.
" It's ok I forgive you, the sun doesn't effect me that much considering I lived in a Jungle." Lena said giving Nagisus a warm smile.

As more adventurers arrived Lena began to get more excited and she stood up, releasing her grip on Nagisus's hand. Lena walked over to the Chieftan and watched as another bulky orc came next to him and announced he would be accompaning the adventurers on their journey. Lena looked the orc up and down and, although reluctave decided she would allow the brute to come with them. Lena listened to what was being said and Lena turned her gaze towards a so called werecrodile. Lena then looked back at the chief.
" No there is concerns exept will any of us survive?" Lena said in a rather sarcatic manner eying the orc up and down like she did to the orc who would be apparently coming with them.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Leepdroon smiled towards the Bosmer's sarcasm. His smile quickly vanished. It could be a joke, but deaths were not completely guaranteed as avoidable. The argonian looked at Larguz. "He appears to be up to lead us... Looks good with melee, as he is stout and he doesn't look afected at all by the heat, just like the other people around here... By Talos... I may be one of the weakest here..." He then introduced himself to Larguz and everyone in the stronghold. "Leepdroon. Leepdroon Antepion. I am honored to be leaded by you, Larguz. And I also have a concern: Do we have any idea of who or what guards our daedric target?"



The idea of what was guarding such a powerful item creeped Leepdroon out, if not everyone around. Anything, literally anything, could be waiting for any being to destroy painfully. One of the most powerful beings of Tamriel could be expecting them. He read the Dwemer had forged a fearsome beast to aid them in any battle, yet it had lost control and they enchanted the hammer with the gift to make the beast unable to get out of it's magic cage entire. Yet the source of that information didn't appear to trust, since the man could barely write. Could the beast-like automaton be guarding the hammer? Could that mean his death? His trust about the adventure began fading, yet he did that painful trip, beared a boiling weather, endured a sandstorm earlier in the desert and said goodbye to J'Zargo, Cicero and Goldenleaf, it was not time to turn back.

 

[Captain Nagisus]

"I think I remember reading a book about some daedric hammer, sacred to Malacath or whatever. Follendrong, was it? It would make sense for there to be some particularly devoted orcs guarding the place," Nagisus said to Leepdroon. "And of course, this is the Alik'r desert. There's bound to be snakes. As for will any of us survive, I doubt most of us will, unless all of us happen to have some knowledge of what we'll face." He then leaned slightly closer to Lena and whispered, "But I'd throw myself under a Silt Strider to save you. And Silt Striders are very heavy for massive fleas."


"I do have one concern though. Where is this Follendrong kept, and how in my mother's-surprisingly-big-and-surprisingly-not-deadly-voriplasm-pies are we going to get there?"

 

[UnLonged]

Another individual entered the stronghold, a woman very far from her home of cold. The chieftain looked at her and gestured for her to come as she seem unsure as to who she was looking for. "Come, we are in the midst of a discussion about your journey." The bosmer's sarcastic talk of survival puzzled Larguz but made the chieftain laugh, both of them having conflicting thoughts. One thought of bravery, while the other thought of over-eagerness of death. She appeared to be even more distrustful of Larguz as she sized up the tall orc, looking at him from head to toe.

The werebeast argonian introduced himself as Leepdroon. He was more welcoming of their orcish companion. One by one, the others raised their questions, most revolving around uncertainty and perhaps fear. It was apt and forgivable, only the thick-skulled ignorant will not feel fear.

"It's Volendrung. The hammer crafter for the daedric lord, our lord, Malacath. I will brief you of your journey, but-" the old orc looked around and at the adventurers one by one. "-it seems one of you is not yet here. Let's wait for your special friend and I will continue." He looked upon Larguz and nodded. The tall orc immediately walked in a brisk manner towards the lone watchtower stationed at the corner wall. He watched over the horizon to see if there are any incoming individuals. He ignored the heat blasted by the unmerciful sun to look out for that one individual, as he knows that they could use all the help they can get in this journey.

 

[death raider]

Lena listened to what nagisus said and she gave him a smile and she gave him a peck on the cheek. Lena than turned back to the others and listened to the discussion with now more intensity. Lena then heard one of the party weren't here and she felt a surge of anger run through her.
" Hurry up I want to get some killing done!" Lena said out loud notcing a few of the orcs giving her looks of confusion and a few looked at her like she was some kind of idiot.

Lena than moved over to the werecrocidile and gave him a an unconvincing look.
" So your a werecrocildile? How stupid do you think I am? I have never hear of a 'werecrocildile' what is it a crocidile that can stand on it's own two feet with massive claws and has lots of fur?" Lena said moving into his face giving him a sly smile.
"Well?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Leepdroon gazed at the Bosmer. Quite brave to insult someone who just told about his disease. On the other hand, he was no longer able to transform unless Larguz ordered him to do so. "I haven't been able to remember much... But I have no fur, just scales. And I also breathe underwater. Not that I need to transform to do that..." He laughed, but feeling quite angry. Then he kept saying, disguising his voice as calm as possible. "Despite being a minory in Tamriel, both as an argonian and a werecrocodile and a usual target of racism, I haven't heard much good about you elves too, am I wrong? Weak races... Something about that. I also believe the Falmer are the first evidences of the slow fall the elves are destined to." After cooling down he then said, to calm the ranger. "At least we agree in one thing: we want to get out of here and find the artifact as fast as possible." "I wonder... If she is in danger... Will I save her? Even try? It depends on three things: my orders, what happened until then and my honour thirst at that moment." He was not evil, but racism was one of the things that made him lose control easily...

 

[Boudica]

Urglúk was involved in a scuffle before he even got to the meeting and believed he was having a brilliant start to his day. He had travelled across the arid land with stagnant water that tasted of the skin it had been kept in, and stale chunks of bread. All is consumables had turned warm and either moist or dry depending if they had been in his pack of hanging from his hip. His toughened hide had been pierced by scorpion stingers and nipped by scuttling black ants.

Yet had he complained? No, of course he hadn't, he had been moulded by hardship since the day he arrived kicking and screaming into the world and it wouldn't be befitting of him to man like a milk drinker because if a little sand and a little toxicity.

That sun was hot though.

Anyway, back to the scuffle...

Two Orc watchmen had laid their large hands on Uglúks thick arms as soon as the half-blood had come anywhere near the gates. The scrap that followed was the result of ignoranc, misunderstandings and Uglúk expressing his distaste in being unfairly man handled. An Orc had swung at him and Uglúk had turned and headbutted the provocateur in his forehead.
If they wanted to call him a brute, an abomination and a beast, then he'd show them what a brute, an abomination and a beast could do. And that was to crack heads open as easy as walnuts with his thick skull.

Damn pure-bloods, for as much as they held their diplomacy and their bravery in high esteem, they were the first elements to be thrown to the wind when they were faced with something they didn't understand.
"I came for," Uglúk started to grunt out in his low, bass voice, "the work..."

"We haven't got any work for your kind, outsider filth," one of the two orcs responded coursely, slightly shocked that this half-breed had a deeper, more gravelly voice than he.

(( OOC - Uglúks voice is like Tim Storms; YouTube him ))

 

[Alexstrasza]

Klara moved slowly towards the Orc that had called to her. She sat in the empty seat next to the Argonian. She smiled softly, showing her white teeth.

"I hope I'm not too late."

She kept her face underneath the black hood, just having her hands exposed made her blood boil but she fought back the ever growing urge to feast. She examined the group from underneath her hood, a bit of an unsightly group but still better then her doing it herself.

 

[UnLonged]

The chieftain smiled at the Bosmer as he hear her demands of moving the journey along and kill something. An orc guard behind him whispered to him. "Chieftain, are they really the ones that we need?" The old orc nodded and looked at the bosmer and her other companions. "Indeed they are. They are capable enough to face what is in store for them."

After a short while, Larguz spotted a figure over the sandy dunes. "Chieftain, an individual approaches. How should we act?" "You two," the chieftain pointed at the two orc guards that stand by the edges of the tent. "stand by the gates and check who this stranger is." Larguz went down the watchtower - replaced by another guard - and went towards the chieftain, standing beside him.

The two guards intercepted the stranger, blocking his way into the stronghold. Withing moments, a brawl ensued between the three, the chieftain watching all the while. As one of the orc guards drive away the stranger, the chieftain intervened. "No! He is one of our -- friends." He gestured for the guards to move away to allow the stranger to enter. "So you are Uglúk? Come, we are about to discuss about your job."