Open Reforging an Empire

[Aethalia]

Aliah retrieved three wooden swords, and tossed one to the Bosmer. " I'm sure there are other weapons, if the sword isn't your blade of choice" She assured him, noting that he lacked an actual sword of his own. Turning her attention to her own wooden swords, she put them through a lazy practice routine. Rolling one arm over the other, almost as if she were playing drums. She finished the practice with a double thrust forward, before straightening up and giving the other elf a playful grin.

 

[Linamina]

Eilene sat in a corner to watch what was apparently a sparring match, wondering if everyone else would be doing it too. If so, she hoped nobody would pick her. Eilene was more of a killer than a duelist. Then again, the swords were made of wood anyway, the worse damage it could do was break a bone or maybe hurt a pressure point. Either way, she didn't want to hurt anyone...or worse, find someone that could match her.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Nachael was worried. Simus had believed Jailani's lie, and now she was officially in the 1st Skyrim Legion. If the general wouldn't see the danger his cause was in, Jailani would derail it in some way. He thought back to the time when the two were younger and he himself was just escaping naivete.

"S-so you're saying- you LIKE the Thalmor?!?" Nachael asked, an incredulous countenance upon his face. He had begun to see the ugly truth about his lover and friend just the day before.

"Oh, stop it! You act as if it's my duty to be the good little patriotic Redguard! How can you even say such a thing, when you don't know where your own parents stood on the war! You really are a fool! I guess it must come with that thick blood of yours. That's one thing the Thalmor have better than you; circulation to the brain!" The act of hiding her past had grown old for Jailani. Why should she hide who she was, she wondered; Nachael was just a man, anyway, his opinion mattered not, if he could even form one! Jailani chuckled at the thought. Why she had been with him all that time escaped her now; but she knew that it was only for superficial reasons. It felt good to begin to be free of him. "And do I like the the Thalmor? No, not as the current entity that rules Alinor; they have affronted me in the past. But yes, I appreciate their ideal. A world without the races of men." She considered herself Altmeri at heart. "A world without you." She spat the words out.

At this, Nachael grunted and shoved her toward the edge of the dusty path they had been walking on for hours; a few pebbles skidded over in her wake, and she threw herself back at him, a small hand giving a solid THUD against his cheek and turning his face away. The journey through the ravine had seen the escalation of violent outbursts like this to almost a norm between the two, but now they were tiring too much to keep it up. Nachael muttered a curse under his breath and kept trekking along the path.

Nachael snapped back to the present as if Jailani had hit him from years in the past. People were beginning to pick out sparring partners, and all he could think to do was to move away from Jailani.

Jailani knew what Nachael was thinking, and she looked playfully at him. She loved to see him squirm. "Now, who is a match for me in this room," she wondered to herself.

 

[fellowknight]

Jen smiled as well. He wasn't all strong with the blade,but he kew his potential. It wasn't like he had never picked up a blade before,he has had to resort to his long sharpened elven daggers many times,though not of late.
He Readied his sword,getting familiar with his surroundings,calculating how much space he would have, and tested the weight of the sword. He swung it from side to side,using his elven training and memory of his past battles. He swung it to the left then right then right then left then he blocked then he ducked and swung again. He was swift and fast when swinging the sword,though not all familiar with it. He turned back to aliah and smiled back.

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Taking a deep breath, Soldin went over a picked up a huge wooden blade. It resembled the design of an Iron Greatsword. Tossing it back and forth between his hands he examined it. He judged the weight, and he judged the length. Even though it was just a wooden sword to some people, sometimes gathering as much information about a weapon as you can, and using that to your advantage can turn the tide of battle.

He did a couple of test swings along with footwork for his temporary weapon. Turning to Simus he asked, "Whenever you're ready, Commander." He gave a soft smile.

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

Smiling, she carried Alice back to her room, layed her down on the bed gently and spoke in a soft voice, "I'll be back in a bit, sit tight." After looking around some she found some of Alice's spare clothes, then proceeded to wash up. After changing she took her clothes and threw them away. Dabiene's clothes were torn, bloodied, and the smell was rancid. She truely did not know how Alice managed to overcome the smell of sweet, blood, and a bunch of other nasty smells while she hugged her. When Simus told her how strong she was, she didn't expect that to include the ability of resisting odd and gross smells!

Going back into Alice's room, she stood in the doorway leaning on the frame. While she looked at Alice sleeping she was deep in thought.

She heard pounding footsteps coming up the stone steps of the College. She had identified Onmund's sent from a mile away. She was standing, leaning over the work table and claws had grown and sunk into wood of the table, about ready to tear it apart like paper. Her canines were large and her eyes were dilated. Dabienes eyes were grey, but not the grey that had shown when the beast went into rage, oh no. Her eyes were a very light grey, almost misty. "Dabs!!" Onmund yelled on the other side of the door and proceeded to pound on it like his life was on the line. In a way it certainly was.

"Dabiene Caristiana! What's going on?! What in Oblivion happened back there?! You nearly tore off J'zargo's head off!" The noise that came out of Dabiene's throat was enough to make Onmund pause. It was as if the wolf inside her was turning feral, and it sounded like it just... Cackled... Or laughed evily. Heart pounding he opened the door slowly, only to have Dabiene right in front of his face grinning from ear to ear. A sadistic look on her face made him yelp in surprise. The wolf grabbed Onmund by his robes and tossed him clear across the room. 'Go on, my dear, finish him! Claim him! Or I WILL!' Dabiene momentarily faltered and her eyes flashed normal and she slammed herself against the now closed door. 'No, please! You know what will happen damn you! Get out of MY HEAD DAMN YOU!' The beast inside of her howled and sneered at her, 'So weak... How did you ever have the guts to have such power... And then neglect it all the same!!' The monster took control once again and by that time Onmund had already stood up and had fireballs in both hands, "Dabiene! Listen... I know what's happening! I talked to Aela!--" "You.... Did... WHAAAT?!" Dabiene shouted at him, her claws if even possible, grew even longer. Her hands were twitching, her inner self holding back to at least hear him out.

The young man was shaking as he looked at her. "Dabiene, please. I know what's happening. It's normal! Well, not exactly normal, but it's not highly unusual! Maybe I can talk to the others! Just to--" Dabiene chuckled but on closer inspection the wolf had taken over again, "You foolish boy... Who do you really think we're after? J'zargo? Oh no... He's a weak match... Trust me. The Teachers are obviously off the list... You however..." The young man's eyes widened in realization, "No... No.. No!" Stalking towards him she laughed, "Oh yes, yes, yes!" She then took a leap at him.

Dabiene nor the 'hungry' wolf never heard Savos Aren come up the stairs, and freeze her in place.

Turning back to the present she frowned. There was only other man that made the beast spark to life. That was Farkas. And being a werewolf himself he understood. They both didn't want each other that way but that wasn't what the wolf wanted. She didn't truely want Onmund either. He was a sweet young man but he lacked confidence. Sighing she walked over and sat down on the bed next to Alice. Stroking her hair she whispered to herself. "Do I really deserve to be blessed? Oh mighty divines? If so... Thank you, for giving me a chance."

Getting in the bed completely she got under the covers and held Alice protectively. The last thought she had before drifting off was that even though she would probably never have a mate, she was overly happy at a chance to be a mother figure to someone. And that's all she could ask for at this point. And for the first time in months she relaxed and drifted off without one single nightmare.

(OOC: Ok I hope that wasn't too confusing. I got the idea from Sinding when he loses control, and from a weird Harry Potter fanfic. Plus when you first transform into a werewolf and then you are found by Aela, she mentions that 'your transformation was not an easy one. Even Farkas' wasn't that difficult.' or something like that. Meaning that probably both Farkas and the dragonborn (or player) lost themselves in the tranformation for a while. Plus, Dabiene does have emotional issues and that connects with her magic, causing her to be highly dangerous. Thus influencing her 'wolf spirit' to act up and take over when she's weak. If you have any questions, ask in the OOC )

 

[Simus]

Fatigue took over Alice as soon as Dabiene put her down on the bed. She had more she wanted to say to her new caretaker but she was finally too tired to talk. She wasn't covered up yet but the soft, deep pillow her head sank into dissapated the last of her will to stay awake. Dabiene came in after a few minutes having changed into one of Alice's older but still nice-looking night gowns and got into bed with her. Alice heard what Dabiene said about getting a chance to be a mother and a big smile crept into her half-awake face. Dabiene covered both of them up snugly and took Alice in her arms. Alice snuggled up to Dabiene and did the same. The softness and comfort of the bed and her pajamas, Dabiene's warm embrace and the thump of her strong slow-beating heart were so comforting that there was no room in Alice's head for nightmares. She fell asleep in complete peace.

...

Simus looked over to Eilene and saw that she was sitting against a wall, watching everyone like a raven. He knew she was more killer than duelist and that she was reluctant to participate but she wouldn't get any special treatment out of him.

"Eilene!" Simus barked. "Get off your arse and get in formation! Everyone but you has a partner so yours will be a surprise!"

Everyone was in formation and Soldin and Baroth were eager to get started. Simus wasn't about to keep them waiting.

"Here's the deal." Simus said. "These fights last as long as they have to. They end when someone can't get up, when the lose consciousness, when they tap on the ground three times, when someone says 'stop' or when I'm satisfied things have gone on long enough. The winners of these matches get to sleep in one day this week and therefore get a pass on one of our runs. The losers get to clean chamber pots one day this week and get double runs. I decide who wins and who loses and my word is final."

He looked to the two Heavy Legionnaires.

"If either of you dispute my ruling, winner or loser, you both get chamber pot duty. Now men, whenever you're ready."

 

[fellowknight]

Baroth nodded at simus,"I will do my best,sir." He raised his sword and got in a good position. He didn't require any further practice or warm-up with the sword,as he has been using it ever since he was 14. He held his sword in blocking position. He then spoke to soldin,saying,"Ready when you are,the first stroke is yours." He said humbly.

 

[arctic73]

"Oh no oh no! What have I done!?!?" Reg bolted upright and whispered these as he looked around. ZHe was back in the Bannered Mare, with a half- empty wine bottle on his table. At least I didn't drink too much, he thought. But I'm gonna be in trouble for blowing off training...

Reg got his armor on and his things together, then quietly left the inn. once he was outside, he sprinted as fast as he could to the Hall of the Dead. Now I remember what happened, he thought. I was experimenting with some spells that made me tired. Then I went to rest. He cursed his fatigue and slowed up when he entered the training area. To his surprise, it seemed there were fights afoot. And a lot of people he didn't know. "Excuse me, Simus? I'm so sorry I'm late, but may I ask what we're doing? And who are all of these people?"

 

[Gunnbjorn]

Arillious snapped out of it the minute the word "Spar" came out of Simus' mouth. He nearly jumped out of his seat at the very thought. He went over to where everyone was, and joined the group. There were two soldiers that were starting - none of whom he recognized. At that point Arillious knew that this weird dream-like occurance had been taking over his thoughts too dangerously, and that he better get back to normal by the time they head out to do their first mission. He had no idea who those people were and that is scary.

Arillious sized up all the men in the room, he seemed to be bigger and taller than everybody else.
"These men seemed well-rounded, regular fighters. It could be doubtful that they would be the ones to openly charge in and hold the fore-front, however." Arillious assigned himself this task, he loved the sight of soldiers double-thinking their reactions when seeing a confident brute like himself running right towards them without a care in the world. Yet, he also made sure that he would be open to surprises. All of these people are here basically to fight the entirety of Skyrim, and he wouldn't be surprised if some of them have some tricks up there sleeve.

He positioned himself in the back, he had a clear view of the spar and wasn't blocking anybody from seeing it. He missed a lot apparently, and he wasn't going to let it happen again.

(OOC: I created my own text color - my favorite color is green . Also because The maroon looks as though you can't really read it well so I figured I try something that looked easier on the eyes. Simus I know your color is dark green, I think there is a clear difference but if you want me to change it I will find something else.

Also, apparently Hale is sleeping in the other room, so Arillious made no notice of him yet - I'm sure if any of you are aware of our past relationships you all might think this is a little suspenseful .)

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Jailani walked toward Nachael. The first sparring session was just starting, and he hadn't found a partner. She laughed to herself as she slid next to him. "Looks like you haven't got a partner. And the sparring is beginning. You have no choice." She took silent pleasure at her perceived dominance over his options.

Nachael said nothing. He was kicking himself inside for not finding a partner earlier, but then a glimmer of the upside of his situation flashed before him; he would get the chance to best Jailani. What's more, if she lost, she would be on chamber pot duty. Now that would make her gears grind like a crumbling Dwemer ruin.

He turned to her, and said, "It looks that way."

 

[dwemerDESTRUCTION]

Galmar stops his assault only to take a breath. I lower my shield, my body sore and bloodied after taking the brunt of his attacks. He smiles and straightens up, "well I can see that your in no condition to continue battle. Will you be so kind to surrender now?". I lean on a pillar, "I'd rather die here" I manage to get out "before my body is treated like Tullius and Rikke's". He laughs, "suit yourself" and he raises his axe ready to bring it down for the killing thrust. I close my eye's ready for the end, but instead I hear Galmar howl in pain. I open my eye's to see Galmar with an ebony arrow sticking out of his shoulder. He snaps it in half and whirls around to be greeted by the same Deathlord I was hiding from, along with a few reinforcements it must have awakened. He lets out a battle cry and engages the Draugr, I take advantage of this distraction to pull out a few healing potions. By the time he is finished killing them off I'm already up and running, urged on to the exit by the promise of a fortune.

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Drawing his weapon he grinned like a little boy who got his favorite present. "Why thank you sir! My pleasure." After bowing to the man he got into position and in a flash he did a powerful side stroke, whilist maintaining his footwork for the next strike or block, whichever it was. He knew the man before him had more experience than him, but that didn't make him faulter. That could get you killed in battle. Baroth hardly staggered as he blocked the blow, and Soldin replied, "Come at me, friend!" He cried in a loud but playful manner.

Yes, he certainly was like a playful puppy at that. Of course he was a werewolf after all... He waited for Baroths blow while in good position. If he did lose, he'd be happy all the same. He would get to run after all. It wasn't at all the fact he liked to be cocky, he just liked to make his leaders or commanders happy. So he'd gladly run if he lost, and clean the pots. Yes, he'd be happy both ways, whatever the outcome.

 

[fellowknight]

Baroth smiled as soldin yelled,"Come at me,friend!",loudly but playfully. Baroth smiled,he drew his sword and got in a striking position. "My pleasure,friend." He said,Charging at him. He came down with a hard stroke. It was blocked by Soldin's blade,and Baroth was pushed back. He raised his sword again,ready to make a move,after Soldin of course. He didn't mind waiting for his opponet to strike,as the heavy armor was made for such blows. He also didn't mind letting him go first,it was mere knight manners.

 

[dwemerDESTRUCTION]

I limp into Morthal ready to just lay down on the ground and die. But there is money to be had and money is one of the greatest motivators of all. Walking into the Moorside Inn I can see my employer enjoying a bottle of mead. I approach him and he looks surprised to see me. "Why hello my friend" he says cheerfully, "I must admit I didn't think you would get out of there alive". I laugh and grab his mead, after downing a few gulps I turn to the matter at hand. "Well here I am and I believe you owe quite a bit of gold". He looks scared, "um yes about that I'm afraid I can't pay you kinsman. I only gave you this job to see if you are worthy". I'm overcome with rage, I pick him up by his collar and I open the door. I throw him out and he lies on the ground quivering, "worthy for what" I yell as some townspeople gather around to watch. He looks up at me, "worthy to join the revolution against Ulfric. I've had my eye on you for a while now Drebin, we could use somebody like you". I pause, the rebellion? I've never given it much thought, I fought in a war once and I'm not quite ready to go back there. But someone needs to bring Ulfric to justice. After that thought I whirl around on my heels and start off to Whiterun. I hear that's where you go to join up.

(Is Whiterun where you go to join the revolution?)

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Still smiling he charged again he made a fake stroke before spinning, ending at Baroth's right side and taking a huge powerful hit to his side. He swiftly jumped back and while naturally watching his footwork and readied for the next attack. It was a wonder how the swords didn't brake already, since they were wood. In the light Soldin's eyes seemed to twinkle.

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

Meanwhile, Dabiene slept ever so peacefully, holding Alice in a very protective embrace with a smile fixed on her face.

 

[Gunnbjorn]

Arillious continued to stare at the two who were sparring - becoming more and more impressed of their combat capabilities as each attack was being executed, blocked, parried, or countered. He hadn't seemed to have properly met these two just yet - There were both Nords, one was big and burly, sort of like him - he was slower than his opponent, but his positioning, his balance, and the way he maintains momentum in each swing is on point. The other one was light on his feet, and much faster when striking, clearly due to their difference in weapon type. The quick one was playfully taunting the Nord. Arillious liked that, it's always fun to know somebody other than him has a sense of humor. He may be looking at his new friend during this journey - Even though this wasn't his first quest he had with Simus, his new rank may greatly affect the way he is around him. It was always key to have a higher respect for your Commander, after all.

He carefully continued to watch the two go at it, while at the same time enjoying the sound of wooden weapons clash, low grunts, and loud breaths that could hint to fatigue.

Perhaps the fight will finish earlier than expected.

 

[fellowknight]

OOC:Srry was making another CC) He readied his sword and charged. He decided to really get into it this time. He swung for his mid-chest,ducked,got behind him,then swung for his back. It was blocked and now soldin was on the right and he was on the left,ready to strike again.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

He was back in the Nine Hells. Oblivion. The Void. He was in his own personal hell, orchestrated by the pit fiend Baalzematichu. Sent to this realm by the evil wizard Garumn the Mad, Hale had no choice but to fight. He was running, running from the devils, the dremora, the fiends. It was an eternal dark forest this time, the blackened trees specked with hellish fire instead of the pure green leaves of his Goddesses earthly realm. He knew that She could not help him now, no one could.

The malebranche appeared from the copse of trees to his right, stabbing his trident towards the Ranger's side. Seeing the attack, Hale twisted to his left, and at the same time turning his sword, Glamdrang, up and around his head, culminating in a downward chop that drove the hellish weapon into the ground. With a demonic growl, the war devil lashed out with a vicious left hook that caught the Druidic Ranger on the left shoulder, narrowly avoiding his throat. With a grunt of pain, the Ranger rolled with the punch, feigning greater injury than had really occurred, tumbling to the ground in an apparent chaotic heap. As the malebranche stepped over the Ranger, laughing in his apparent victory, Hale quickly spun up and shoved his demon-killing blade up into the devil's throat, punching out the back of his head. Pieces of dark-red skull and brain splattered over Hale as the very much-dead war devil fell over backwards, as the Ranger pulled out his blade.

With a sigh of relief, Hale stood up, thinking the current crisis at an end.

He was wrong.

A hellish screech echoed through the demonic night, and once again, Hale found himself running. Always running.

Hale awoke from the nightmare with a start, at the clashing of wood-on-steel. Looking around, he saw that many of the group had begun practicing with each other. Shaking his head, he kept hoping desperately that these nightmares would stop. No, not nightmares, thought the Ranger with a cold shudder. Memories.

Realizing that he had been out for more time than he had intended, Hale stood up and began pacing around the perimeter of the room. As he took note of the new faces that had entered since he had took his rest, Hale was astounded to see an all-to familiar (though not exactly welcome!) face.



"Arillious?! Oh, Gods, is that you?"

 

[Gunnbjorn]

As he watched the spar continue, Arillious couldn't help but notice the lurking figure of another man circling the perimeter of the small arena and it's spectators.

"Only a Ranger." He thought.

"Arillious?! Oh, Gods, is that you?" says the nuisance - the very bane of Arillious' patience - Hale Loneshadow. 'The Ranger.'

Arillious lowered his head, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and paused and cherished what could be the last few seconds of quiet on this quest. It had been nothing but intelligent conversation for many months since the rather mysterious disappearance of Hale, and he couldn't say he didn't relish every second of him not being present.

After indulging, he snaps his neck into the direction of Hale, and with no sign of any joy, sadness, anger, or resentment, he glared.

"Well, well, well - look who is it - Hale Loneshadow, the Ranger that disappears - did you get lost back at the Reach? Or could you just not handle the intellect required to be involved in such a group? But all jokes aside - Where did you go, and why did you come back?"


Arillious took a few steps toward Hale, close enough to tower down upon him. He still stood tall and mighty as he crossed his arms.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

Matching the man's glare with nothing but a stiff stare, Hale peered up at Arillious, resisting the urge from Baalzematichu was whispering in his ear to gut the man where he stood. Mentally shaking the demonic urges aside, Loneshadow stood stoically as he ignored the jabs of the usually imposing man, and answered his question the simplest way he could.

"In Hell. How about you?"