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Just a few stories about some of my characters when I feel like writing them down. Feedback is more than welcome!
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  • Welcome to Swindler's Den Aug 14, 2015

    Sooko's yellow eyes opened slowly, trying to adapt to the darkness of the place he was in. His wounds still had a strange, burning pain to them, but that was nothing compared to being exposed to the sun and the crows like he was before being taken there. He had been put on a bedroll, which, judging by the blood on it, had not been cleaned once ever since Sooko had arrived. On his right, there were several, shall we say, unsettling tools, soaked in blood, that gave out a fairly accurate hint about the level of proficiency of the person that had healed him, and on the left, a large torch that provided some comfortable heat in that large cave. While the wounds did feel better, beneath their bandages, the argonian had no clue about their actual state. For all he knew, someone could have just given him some skooma to ease the pain.
    - Ah... You are awake._ A soothing voice was heard from the darkness._ I'll be honest, I advised against wasting resources on you. But I guess I was wrong. Here you are, alive, for now...
    - Wha...?
    - Two arrow heads taken from your thigh and your shoulder,_ the unseen voice continued_ three cauterizations, a few drops of paralysis poison to make you stop squirming, some bandages and a broken needle due to me being kind of drunk at the time, and voila! A resurrected argonian. Again, for now...
    - Who are you?
    - Oh, sorry. My name is Delm. And I am the man to who you owe being alive._ A young fellow got out of the shadows. His race was hard to make out, as well as his looks, but, thanks to his somewhat controlled speech, Sooko assumed Delm would be an imperial._ Look, I am going to warn my boss about your awakening. He might just kill you straight away, so please... do try to be a bit polite.
    Sooko was then left alone in that cave, counting the bloody knives, pliers and needles that had been used to heal him up. Apparently, the doctor had been too busy to get rid of both the broken needle and the arrow heads, as well as cleaning up the whole mess. His real wish was to run away from there, but with those wounds, and no clue about where he was, even Sooko knew it was a bad idea. Not long after, Delm would have returned with his boss, and their argonian guest would still be in his place. The man was a redguard, with a huge silhouette and a fairly intimidating voice.
    - So... You finally decided to come back to the living, yes?
    - I guess so...
    - Do you know who I am?_ He knelt down in front of Sooko, letting him get a better look at his face. That redguard's eyes were the second scariest ones he had ever seen, losing only to Jegya's. Blue, cruel and probably even a bit psychotic, they examined their frail hostage without any trace of sympathy in them. His hair was short and unwashed, with one small braid for each side of his head.
    - No..._ Sooko coughed._ Should I?
    - Do you know where you are?
    - Again... No idea.
    The large man stood back up and turned his back to Sooko, as if rejecting his very existence.
    - You, my friend, are in Swindler's Den.
    Sooko tried his best to avoid looking worried when hearing that, but anyone could notice that he was as serious as a Jarl posing for his portrait.
    - That's right. We are the bandit clan that your Halted Stream buddies have been robbing. You rob our caravans, you kill our fences, you even kill my men if they are unfortunate enough to bump into you on your way to the Sleeping Tree.
    - ... ... and you are...?
    - Yastar. Leader of this hideout. I have watched my men squirm under your clan's boot for too long. You have been seen riding with the Halted Stream gang very often, so I assume you are worth something to them. I wonder how much they will pay for us to return you in one piece...
    A spark of hope was lit after Yastar spoke. Sooko looked up, with defiance in his eyes, and spoke to Yastar as if challenging him.
    - I know how much they will pay you. Zero.
    - Feeling like joking, huh?
    - No. Those men, were the ones that left me in that state. One of them lead a mutiny against the leader. Probably none of the old members are still alive. There has been a takeover in Halted Stream Camp.
    - So... Why did they leave you, specifically, to die in the middle of nowhere?_ Yastar turned back to Sooko, with a raised brow.
    - They probably think I was dead already, but their new leader dislikes me enough to refuse to bury me near his precious camp.
    - And the old leader... What of him? What of the man that I need to kill?
    - He was the first to fall._ Lied Sooko, so sincerely it was almost melodic._ An arrow to the chest. From Kruda, the traitor himself.
    - So... You are telling me that your people have suffered a radical change, lost their leaders and experienced members, is being led by a traitor, and has no idea you are alive? And you expect me to believe that?
    - Had I been more honest, you would also know how many whores I've slept with, and how many lives I have taken.
    - And, assuming you were that honest with me..._ Yastar condescendingly approached Sooko once again._ ... what use do you have to stop me from killing you to get some sweet revenge? Why should I spare you?
    The argonian paused for a few seconds. In all honesty, he thought there could be little that someone like him could do for someone like Yastar, not to mention the fact that he was actually the former leader of his enemy clan. With as much sincerity on his voice as he could pull out, Sooko spoke, after a deep breath.
    - Because I am the only person in this cave that has ever been inside Halted Stream. Because I currently have no more sympathy for them than you. Because despite our different clans, I am still a decently average bandit, and I know some things about skooma dealing your gang might appreciate. Because, while knowing my life was very likely lost anyway, I still told you the entire story for your profit. Because some fences and clients of my own, might still recognize me, and believe me to be parted of their gang. My usefulness isn't outlived.
  • As bad as it can get Aug 13, 2015

    How it happened was still a bit of a blurr in Sooko's mind. Before all that mess, he could have sworn to be on top of the world, preparing to sell a box full of Balmora Blue vials to a twitchy breton in Whiterun, for a price that could buy his way out of any crime for years to come. The catch, however, was that he had not cooked that Balmora Blue. No... Sooko knew more than anyone that no man with such common alchemy skills such as his could just pull a bottle of Balmora Blue out of his lab. That Balmora Blue had come from one of Skyrim's toughest and bloodiest drug lords, a Khajiit female by the name of Jegya. Taking it from her own warehouse had been a rash decision, but a lowly bandit rarely measures the risk when it comes to making money. During a convenient night when there were less valuables inside, and as such, less guards, Sooko and his gang had been able to snatch an entire crate of the good stuff, and with a remarkably low number of deaths on their side too! Needless to say, the client had no clue where the Balmora Blue came from. All he had asked for was the product, and it was the product that was going to be given to him.

    Of course, none of it actually happened. The breton never saw Sooko again, because, once they met at the agreed spot, the poor fellow would already be dead. Worse. Before Sooko and his men could turn back to Halted Stream Camp, the thugs that had taken his life revealed themselves, and their boss was with them. Jegya had figured it out, through gods-knew-what methods on some poor soul that didn't have the luck of dying in her warehouse before she got to him. She looked just as every bandit described her. Scarred everywhere, from her face to her tail, blind in one eye, being the other one so green it seemed to be poisonous. Her ears (or what was left of them), were pierced by three earrings each, and the tip of her tail was missing. Despite all the obvious damage she had taken, however, and the nearly psychotic look on her face, Jegya still maintained a certain level of beauty. Her body was in excellent shape, something that was possible to notice due to her light, leather armor, and the way she walked seemed to be daring for anyone to try to kill her and kiss her at the same time. Simply put, she looked and was dominant, and to see her with one's own eyes, was usually a very bad sign.

    It did not take long before Sooko's men started falling. The thugs Jegya's wealth could hire were a lot better than the petty clan our friend here had gathered over the years. Most of his trusted men fell before his eyes, some of them being decapitated by Jegya herself. The few left made a run for it, pushing through whichever openings they found between the several soldiers of Jegya's army. Those that made it to their horses, rode with Sooko back to their camp, at Halted Stream.

    There, the rest of the gang awaited. Members who were not as trustworthy as those who had accompanied Sooko dwelled inside, behind the gate. Someone had to watch over the camp after all. Sooko ordered the gates to be opened, so his men and him could get some rest, and maybe find a way out of that mess. However, no one answered. Sooko ordered a second time, and again no reply was obtained. Already pissed after such a long day, our friend shouted mightily, demanding the gates to be opened.

    And they were.

    To his dismay, behind the gates, awaited ten of his men, with bows at the ready. Before Sooko could even unsheath his blade, the arrows flew towards his squad, hitting most of them lethaly. Those who weren't hit, surrendered, but Sooko didn't have such a privilege. With an arrow on his shoulder and another on his thigh, he felt to his knees, and saw, walking towards him, the traitor to who he owed the loss of his gang. Kruda. That arrogant Bosmer seemed to be the leader of that small mutiny, and he did not look like he wanted to spare Sooko.

    Kruda took Sooko's blade from his sheath and ran it through his stomach with a spit to the ground afterwards. His last sight had been the looks full of sorrow of the few men that had survived the mutiny and were still his friends, and now he was alone.

    When he woke up again, the argonian would be laying in the plains of Whiterun, exposed to the afternoon sun, left to decay, were he as dead as everyone believed him to be. Crows circled around him, in the air. Heck, some even buried their beaks in his open wounds and tried to take out some flesh, slowly. The little strength he had left wasn't enough to get back up, but at least those damn birds could be scared off for a while. Sooko spent a few minutes that way, as more and more of those feathered bastards gathered around to spectate, waiting for his last breath so they could dig in. Suddenly, they started flying away. Most of the ones circling in the air even gave up, too. A shadow relieved his sore eyes from the bright sun. Sooko couldn't figure out who that fellow was, of course, but, whether he was there to put him out of his misery or to save him from such a horrible state, it was still better than that. He saw the figure wave to someone else further in the plains, and before he knew it, somebody would already be lifting him from the ground.
    - Man... This guy here is f***ed..._ He heard someone remark, before fainting.
  • Luduslik Apr 26, 2015

    Harte scratched his unshaved chin, admittedly impressed by whoever had caused that much damage to the inn. Truth being said, he had not enjoyed being forced to go to Solitude, when a bottle of Murw and a warm fireplace awaited him at home, not to mention the fact that not even Jesska had bothered to come along, but that scene did look promising for a medal if he was able to catch the criminal. The Winking Skeever, despite not being by any means Harte's most frequent location, had definitely taken some damage. There were broken chairs dropped on unconscious bodies, small stains of blood on some walls, and Harte was easily the only man in that room who actually knew that he was alive. Beneath his feet, broken bottles and spilled drinks gave away his steps with gentle, soft cracking sounds. A few groans could be heard of the men, as their toothless, bruised faces started to become felt once again. Above his head, a chain swung slowly, attached to the ceiling, being it the only noticeable movement in that room full of frozen violence. That iron chain was what used to keep the goat horn chandelier in the air, but, at that moment, the source of light had been left on a big fellow's head, probably after being swung at him once or twice. Not even the inn keeper had escaped the beating that had been served all around. Inside the drink cabinet, with one of its wooden doors open, Harte managed to spot the man, with a busted nose, and some marks that had clearly been caused by a bottle smash against his face. On the counter, his purse remained untouched, between some bottles of mead that had escaped the brawl. The criminal was definitely not after gold.

    One man had woken up a few seconds earlier, a skinny, unwashed whelp, nothing much to hold its own in a brawl, for sure, who Harte ordered to climb up the stairs and wait in a room for an interrogation. Upon climbing those stairs himself, Harte realized the upper floor was hardly forgiven in comparison to the lower one. The rooms' doors had several sharp weapons stabbed on them, ranging from usual cutlery to large cleavers and even a morning star. One of the beds had been throw down the balcony, into two bodies whose gender Harte had failed to make out, but still displayed signs of life nonetheless. Inside a more intact room, with almost no dents or blood stains on the walls, the lad awaited, massaging the countless bruises that were possible to see in his face, and the parts of his body that his rags did not cover.

    - So..._ Harte sat down, in front of the bed he was on._ You were the lucky first to wake up.
    The boy seemed uneasy, staring at Harte's mechanical left hand non-stop, with his popped out brown eyes.
    - Answer my questions and you will be fine._ Harte unpaused, ignoring the skinny man's staring._ So.. First of all: What happened?
    For a few seconds, Harte got nothing but silence, as if the kid wanted to vomit the information, but, for some reason, couldn't. However, after a few awkward moments, the information finally came out.
    - Th-there w-w-was a man! Luduslik! He... he went crazy! He was the one who started this thing. He destroyed the inn!
    - Luduslik?_ The inspector tapped his steel replacement with his nails._ Why did he start the fight?
    - I-I-I don't know! He used to come here often! O-One of the other men angered him. Called him an "abomination", or something like that. N-next thing I know, there are bodies everywhere, and I am being thrown into a table!
    - Had anyone insulted Luduslik before?
    - Y-yes... They did it often... But... but... he usually ignored them.
    - Tell me... How was this... "abomination" like?
    - I... I'm sorry?_ Stammered the lad.
    - Luduslik's appearance. Why was he called an abomination?
    - Oh... Yes... He-he's a, a, a hunchback. A huge hump on his back, which hinders his walking enough to force him to limp instead of walking.
    - I see..._ Harte crossed his legs.
    - Lu-Ludus is also very strong. He is very bulky, it is p-p-possible to tell even when he wears heavy clothing. Uhm... All you need to do is really find a man wh-who looks like a monster. It is probably Luduslik. His teeth are too distant from each other, yellow, very, very ugly. D-During this brawl, one of my c-comrades managed to wound him in the cheek with a f-f-f-fork, s-so he might have a scar when you find him. Oh, and his eyes are... b-b-bright green. To me, they seemed almost... too bright for him not to be blind. His pupils are usually very d-difficult to see.
    - So... a hunchback kicked your ass because you mocked him?
    - We didn't all mock him._ Spat the lad, somewhat angrily.
    - Alright. How did he act, when he wasn't trying to rip out your heads?
    - I... I didn't even know him! He usually sat alone, quiet, in a corner. He never bothered anyone, even when some drunkards poked him a little. H-he seemed so quiet and shy! Th-that's all I know! S-some people also said he used to walk around the docks with a lovely woman, b-but I never saw anything! I don't even know where he comes from!
    - And this woman is?
    - They... uh... they said she was a prostitute... Uh... a hooker, sir...
    - Her name?!_ Harte almost shouted, growing impatient, and wanting to go back to his office.
    - D-Demetria! I think that was it.
    The inspector got up, sweeping some dust off his coat elegantly afterwards.
    - Good. That is all, for now. Unless there is something else you'd like to add?
    After some hesitation, the kid finally spoke up.
    - Oh! He... he has these large bear-shaped steel gauntlets around his wrists! O-one of his punches almost ripped out my head thanks to those things. I've never seen those weapons anywhere else.

    I had to finish this quickly, so this is still a WIP, but that is Luduslik's basic introduction and CC. Sometime later, I will come back to give this piece of writing some more description, maybe dialogue, etc. Thanks for reading!
  • Rent's Due - A Poem Apr 7, 2015

    It was a morning like any other
    At the inn of Riverwood
    Where Leepdroon napped quietly
    At least, while he could

    The previous night had been divine
    For it, there was no besting
    The argonian had eaten like a swine
    And he now required resting

    The feast, in all honesty
    Mattered little for its cause or guests
    Leep just managed to sneak in
    And the mistress took care of the rest

    Of course there had been damages
    And previous scores to settle
    But when you are cold and hungry
    No danger seems too fatal

    Delphine had woken up,
    Ready for Leepdroon to do the same
    For in her guest book's black list
    There was a heavy debt attached to his name

    He eventually got up
    Yawning relatively carefree
    Proving again to be the fool
    Everyone claimed him to be

    His plan was tricky and clever
    "Its fool-proof!" He thought,
    Just before his scaly hooves
    Gave away his exact spot

    Delphine wasted no time
    That skirt of hers was no burden
    She slammed his room's door open
    To find him squealing behind the curtain

    What was it he tried to do?
    Why so suddenly becoming quiet?
    Would he admit trying to flee through the window,
    Or lie and hope she would buy it?

    "Leaving so soon?"
    She roughly pulled him through his hood
    "Pay me what you owe."
    "I-I would if I could."

    The woman's expression got angrier
    And she demanded one more time
    "Give me my money!"
    "Is not having it a crime?!"
    "Actually, it is,
    you disgusting scaly slime."
    "Then complain to a guard"
    He said "For I don't have a dime!"

    Delphine's eyes sparkled with anger
    A lot more than he usually saw
    Before the poor man knew it
    He would get a fist to the jaw

    Now Leepdroon was no coward
    A lady he would not hit
    He made this especially clear
    "She is too fast! Holy ****!"

    And so, through punches and kicks
    The brave innkeeper kept him knocked down
    Coups to the crotch, he counted six
    Luckily there was nobody else around

    After the beating was served
    With a satisfied grin on her face
    Delphine took the freedom of snatching
    Leepdroon's purse belt from his waist

    She left him on the ground,
    Where the lizard laid for a while
    After giving him back his empty belt,
    Delphine said: "At least beating you made me smile."

    Leepdroon walked out of Riverwood
    With his head held down in shame
    Despite being very strong in combat
    Hostile enemies were always his bane

    Looking at his empty wallets
    Already limping and on his way
    He mentally apologized Goldenleaf
    Leep wouldn't buy her necklace that day

    So... yeah, I decided to change my blog to something a little more open to different things asides from Leepdroon's story alone. I chose to make it a place for me to occasionally put short stories (usually nothing too bloody, I hope), and, for a matter of respect, Leepdroon got the first post.

    I have also tried something different today. I had only written poetry a couple of times before, and none of them were in English, so... yeah, do tell me how to get better at this (although this won't be a poetry blog)

    As for the old posts? Well, I have come to realize I became a little better at writing than in 2012 (gotta give me some credit, ok?). My former lack of adjectives and excessive dialogue have definitely changed, even if just a little bit, I hope, and I don't think those had much quality asides from the story itself.

    Thank you for reading and, like, being part of these forums. I have been around here for 2, almost 3 years. Its all thanks to you guys <3
    Sah likes this.