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Private Compromised Divinity

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by CapObvious, Apr 19, 2017.

  1. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Mar 29, 2013
    Likes Received:

    Masterminded by: CapObvious and Hlif'Ulfr

    The inn was silent, bereft of any movement as the old man spoke. His words weaved around them like the warmth from the fireplace positioned behind him, warming them all both in body and in spirit. The people watched in a silent curiosity, the wisdom the man had begun to impart intriguing them. The man had let loose whispers of a secret threat, something lingering in the dark that awaited the perfect moment. Whether they believed him or not, they listened regardless, ready to see what the old man was all about.

    “War. The world always seems to be at war. Seemed like yesterday it was simply man against elf. Dominion against Empire. One group of supremacists demanding the other fall to their superiority, to declare their supremacy. It was always the same. Dullards too big for their silken robes, overtaken by greed, pride, what have you. Always wanting more. Though the days of the great war are long past, another cause has risen. Another banner raised in stark defiance, another wave of fresh-faced lads and ladies rushed to their early graves for squabbles that had resulted from the war before. Should this man who had ascended above the others be proclaimed a god, or is his claim of divinity a farce?

    Then another query rises to greet the first. Does it truly matter? It’s only an excuse to spill more blood and weaken an already belabored people, draw them further into submission to those who would come to overtake us when we are down, kick us when we show them our fragility, when the fight has been stripped from us and we are broken. Is there no end to this? Is war all there is in this life? A constant struggle to attain more, whether it be knowledge, wealth, or even power. Surely this cannot be all we are here to create.

    Though the evidence only proves this fear to be a fact.

    Even now, while this war for “independence” is waged on Skyrim’s already weathered soil, there is something drawing upon the chaos it sows. This force does not wear the face of any enemy our world has faced before. This is no man, no elf and no beast. At least, not any longer. It and the dark forces it commands are growing in strength while our people are instead fighting one another. Focused on such minor offenses when the world is in grave danger! It’s shadow creeps over us now as we sit in this infernal den of iniquity. A great creature, created from a pact with the devils we fear. Grown to immense strength, then cast aside when the gods themselves drew back in utter horror at the monstrosity they had created. He is here! Now! Listening to our every word, drawing his strength from our division, building his army in the shadows while we are busy floundering in the light! Our focus deterred from the true threat to us as a people while he waits for his moment to strike! Surely there must be someone who can see that we are in terrible-”

    “Quiet you old fool. That’s more than enough of your fear mongering. You’re scaring the children.” The stubborn old man heard from behind him, causing him to turn aggressively to it’s source from behind the inn’s counter. As his eyes caught the face of the owner’s torchlit visage, his eyes tightened with a pronounced squint, not a word spoken while the woman continued to allay any concern he had attempted to put into the people who had gathered around him, clinging to his every word. “There is no great creature among us. Just a codger who wants to scam you out of your hard earned septims. Ignore him, go back to your drinking, let this old bastard talk himself to death alone.”

    The old man let loose a great harumph as he stood to his feet uncharacteristically, the chair once beneath him quickly scraping across the floor behind him. His hands dropped to his waist in clenched fists, his brow bent into a darkened scowl.

    “I will not be spoken of as if I am a fool! The creature is real! He is alive and well, ready to feast upon our souls, devour our flesh, and rise to rival any god you and your hoodlum friends whisper to before you slumber. He is coming to destroy us all. Just. You. Wait.” This warning was once again ignored, the people who had once listened intently now going back to their business, their interest in the old man’s story long since forgotten. He grumbled fiercely beneath his breath, grabbing his satchels and storming toward the tavern door. As he reached the door he stopped short, his hand inches from the door handle. With a grunt he spun on his heel, turning to look out among those who had dismissed him so easily, clearly not finished with them.

    His voice rang out through the den as he passed, the words he spit out with such indignation bringing a chill to those who listened.

    “Fools. The lot of you. Even now as the world falls around your feet, you will wait until you are crushed beneath the rubble before you take heed the words of your elders. Typical. We will see, when the creature along with his vast legions that he will soon command, will be picking the flesh of those same fearful children from their teeth with your bones.” Before another word could be said the man turned and left, the bitter cold that the inn had all but halted once again wakening the drunken louts who were now chuckling at the man’s last words.

    How foolish they would feel, when they found that the man’s silly tales were instead prophecy. That as they drew upon their company and their ale, each laugh and word they shared amongst them would be their last. For as the world around them flowed like every day before, something stirred in the depths intent upon shattering the balance, ready to finally lay claim to the world it had promised itself, and then been denied by those who had feared it.

    The creatures arrival was nigh, and his first lesson would be swift. Those who dare mock, or deny him the respect he has long deserved, will feel his wrath upon them as he dashes them against the stones, then again, as he ground their bones to dust.

    They would soon know the name of this creature, and with it, soon know the true meaning of fear.

    And with that, Welcome to Compromised Divinity!
    Please note that this rp will contain adult themes, such as blood, violence, death and much more. That said, reader discretion is advised, and we suggest that only those of the ages 18 and above peruse this content.

    And now, a word from our lovely authors:

    Hello all! This roleplay is a collaborative effort between myself and Hlif'Ulfr. As such, while we appreciate any interest in the story, we are not currently, nor will we ever be, looking for any additional writers or characters to fill any gaps or roles. While I’m sure your lovely paladin is just fantastic for this, or you know this one writer who made this sick mage you may or may not have created a fanclub for, we simply are uninterested in having anyone else join us in this venture. Any and all attempts to include yourself in this journey will be met with fierce resistance, including, but not limited to, close proximity dramatic screaming, being chased from our lawn by a freaky Gramos, or being subjected to wee-woos of the amberlamps until your ears bleed. We are not responsible for any physical harm brought upon you by these horrific responses, as warning was indeed given up top. You signed the waver, you paid the fee. IT’S ON YOU. That being said, thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy reading our latest turmoil-riddled adventure.

    Character List:


    Dolmas Hlerayn
    Falco Loran
    Na'ima at-Akim
    Sebastian Laurent
    Amris Benoch

    @Hlíf 'Ulfr
    Cosset Beaulieu
    Etheril "Ther" Matius
    "Sera" Naide Sil Ka’im

    Small note: This is the IC thread, not the OOC. If anyone has something to say about the rp, please do so in pm, to avoid cluttering the IC thread. Thank you.

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    #1 CapObvious, Apr 19, 2017
    Last edited: Apr 4, 2019
  2. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Mar 29, 2013
    Likes Received:
    The Frozen Hearth Inn was abuzz as people began to pour in for the evening. The tables were all but filled, the barmaids scurrying about the place in what could only be described as a controlled terror. Whether they were not used to the influx of patrons or were simply just overwhelmed was anyone’s guess, however, as one flustered maid called for another to simply grab, “the bucket” following a rather grotesque retching sound, it seemed they had at least gotten it down to some sort of workable routine.

    However, the last few nights were nothing like the regime they had grown accustomed to. Long gone were the days where the patrons simply drank and muttered about the college and lost glories and the cold and whatever typical idle nonsense flowed between them. The last few nights had been the cause of sleepless nights, paranoia and a deeply felt mourning. These were no longer people focused on the the usual flirting and fighting and such. No, this was a tavern of people all trying to forget. Forget the terrors that lurked outside the tavern walls. The terrors that could be lurking in their own homes as soon as they depart. There was truly no telling what was to come when the sun rose once more. Would they even awaken, would they lose a neighbor, a daughter, a husband. They tried to enjoy what time they had left, because tomorrow was no longer guaranteed.

    That’s why, there was some small hope when a group of mercenaries finally answered the pleas of the local Jarl, and had made their way into that very inn. Reveling among them were men and women that belonged to one of the more diverse and fairly decorated companies that had walked Tamriel. Led by one Falco Loran and Na’ima at-Akim, The Silver Star had promised that they would bring an end to the tragedies that plagued Winterhold, and had asked if there were any who would join them to rid their town of these horrors that lurked in the shadows. It seemed however, that they might be on their own…


    “You’re going to turn me away, just like that?” A scraggly looking nord scoffed, baffled by the quick dismissal. “Yep.” Falco replied matter of factly. “Just like that.” The young mans’s brow furrowed, gauging his surroundings before leaning in to speak again. “You’ve seen what you’re up against, you’ve seen what they’re capable of, you come here looking for help, and you deny the only one with the stones to come up and offer his aid?”

    Falco’s eyes did not return to the boy, instead gazing over the crowd who flashed glances in their direction but made no move to introduce themselves. They remained cowering at their tables pumping themselves full of mead, ale, whatever it took to forget the images that no doubt haunted them. He didn’t blame them, honestly he was thankful for it. Had it been such a simple affair the town would not have needed their services, or paid nearly as handsomely to see the job done. He continued to stare into the crowd as he spoke again but returned to the topic at hand. “I’m afraid having the stones won’t keep those beasts from feasting on your innards, kid. They know it, even if you don’t.”

    The boy grunted and slammed the table with his fist, his face now inches from the man he had assumed to be their leader. “Do not call me kid, I am not-” His outburst was interrupted by a dagger stabbing into the table between his fingers. His eyes darted swiftly to a female redguard who met his furious gaze with one of her own. “They’ll be calling you dead if you lose your head so easily on the battlefield. You are unfit to be facing such creatures if you can’t control your emotions. You’d be a danger to everyone around you, but also yourself. I will not allow it. Go home, child.” At first he showed no signs of relenting, but the growing anger in the eyes of the redguard was enough to force him to relent. With a huff he jumped from his seat and made for the tavern door. “May you all be devoured by creatures of the night.” He growled under his breath as he tossed himself into the door and made his way out. As he crossed the threshold, his frustration melted briefly, catching sight of a lively young woman near bouncing in his direction, hand outstretched to catch the door. The nord stepped to the side, propping the door open for her to enter. She met the gesture with a sweet smile, nodding her thanks as she entered the inn and he let the door close behind him. Letting out a deep sigh, he tightened the collar of his cloak and made his way back home, still cursing the pair of sellswords in his mind.

    Falco sighed, resting his forehead onto the palm of his hand. Na'ima sheathed her dagger and spoke softly. “You made the right call, Falc. He’ll thank you later.” Falco chuckled softly before reaching for his drink. “I’m not so sure. The boy looks like he knows how to hold a grudge. Kinda like someone else I know…” The table shifted forward with a belabored groan as the she shoved Falco, bringing forth a knowing smirk. “He was right about one thing though. There really has been quite the lack of volunteers. Even with the pay we posted…” He glanced to the bar again, taking note of the newest entrant. Taking the moment to examine her armor Falco nearly missed another voice rising above the the dull roar of the inn’s patrons, this one belonging to Amris, the bosmer sitting to his left.“I think we have more than enough hands already, to be honest. We need only wait for the healer we sent word for, and I feel we’d be more than ready.” Falco didn’t respond right away, still transfixed by the woman who had made her way to the barbeep.

    She stuck out enough on her own, her demeanor far more vibrant than the bland individuals crowded around her. The soft smile she wore simultaneously lifting the spirit of those who caught her eye and yet also seemed to show just how dismal the atmosphere had felt before her arrival. She could not have been here long, to have wandered in without a care in the world. However, it wasn’t merely her behavior that drew attention. Truly an enigma, she seemed to be a walking contradiction. She donned custom silver plate, intricately detailed with floral decorum, vines lining the edges, over top black dyed cloth. The woman had to be covered head to toe in buckles and clasps as the armor that had been no doubt specially tailored for her and her alone fitted close and snug and provided what could only be the best . While that alone was not too out of the ordinary, the contradiction came when Falco took note of her weapon of choice. Against the shine and grandeur of her attire, strapped to her back, was a simple wooden staff, while made of what had to have been fine quality lumber, it was still out of place, not just at a contrast with the armor, but the woman who wore it. He could tell that someone like her could couldn’t possibly be ordinary in any way.

    Before he could acknowledge Amris’ comment, he noticed that the barkeep had begun pointing in their direction. A brief moment of confusion overcame him, but then it all became clear. Falco whispered to the table, leaning forward to face the woman who began her approach. “We might not even need to wait that long, it seems.”
  3. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Nothing but a lyre
    Staff Member

    Mar 21, 2013
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    “Well, what I’m really looking for is a little excitement.” her smile twisting into an impish grin only to quickly fade to a more demure expression.

    “Another adventurer, eh?” came his reply, a cookie-cutter response paired with a dry grunt which made her want to pout.

    Maybe he was boorish, she thought to herself, or maybe he wasn't in the mood to play her games. More accurately, she deduced from the way he slumped, he didn't have the energy for it. Looking him over she had her doubts that he would have been able to keep up with her even under better circumstances, not that she could blame him for that. She rallied herself and began her assault anew, this time with a different approach.

    “That was terribly vague of me wasn't it? I’m sorry, let me start over. I’m a healer, and a good one at that, an adventure as well I suppose you could say. You weren’t wrong there.” She stated coyly before punctuating her point with laughter. “Usually I’m travelling with a group, sleeping under the stars, chasing treasure, glory, adventure but now I find myself alone in Winterhold. I’m looking to fix that. Tell me is there anything you could recommend for someone like me, or have or have I fallen from favour?”

    He took a moment to look her over, running his calloused hand through his beard and rubbing his chin. She wasn't completely sure that she appreciated the way he looked down his hooked nose as his eyes slid over her armour as if he was measuring her up against some image in his head but the smile on her face never dulled. Fortunately, it was not long until he crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded with conviction.

    “Aye, I believe I have something that might interest you.” He leaned in as he spoke, lowering his voice but gesturing openly as he went “A group came in earlier, not regular townsfolk or travellers by the looks of them. I’ve been told they’re waiting for a healer but he hasn't arrived as of yet and I imagine they’re growing weary of waiting. With some luck, you might be able to convince them to take you on."

    With eyes sparkling gleefully Ther turned to follow the outstretched pointing finger of the Nord. She scanned the room, looking over the heads of those huddled closely to the bar cradling their mead and ale. The tavern boasted an impressive crowd, large enough that it complicated the simple task of finding the small group. Apprehension quickly built in her chest, holding her breath captive while her eyes flitted quickly from face to face. She was about to turn tail and ask the barkeep for some kind of guidance when finally she met his gaze.

    Something clicked, and she responded promptly with a smile. From a distant corner across the room, a man with frosty green eyes and an impressive scar appeared to have been watching her. Gathered around him huddled a sundry collection of mer and man talking intently amongst themselves, most notably an alluring redguard woman, but even she could not keep the imperials attention. This man, whoever he was, seemed to be at their helm and at that moment she had eyes for him alone. There was no question in her mind that she had found what, or for whom she had been looking. Afterall she trusted her gut with unshakable confidence, even to a fault, especially when it came to handsome strangers.

    “Thank you for your help” the imperial called absently to the barkeep as she ducked to collect her belongings. “I’ll come to collect on that offer of mead some other time.”

    A wave of golden strands cascaded over her shoulder and jumped in a lively manner as Ther brought herself upright with one fluid almost bouncy movement. Hoping to capture her moment she waited impatiently for a patron to push past her, wedging himself into her newly vacated place at the bar before gliding forward. Excitement bubbled up as she allowed her mind to wander, sidestepping each rowdy reveller with general ease.

    A sly smile slipped across her face as she drew nearer, she could feel the eyes of the group falling upon her and appreciated the already attentive way their leader looked on. She could tell by the way his eyes shone that she was not alone in her attraction, it was a mutual feeling. It bolstered her already exceptional confidence meaning that by the time she reached the group the feeling seemed to roll off of her in excess.

    “I pray you’ll forgive my intrusion,” She said warmly, wholeheartedly believing that they would do just that “but I have been lead to believe that your party has been in search of a healer. Well, more accurately that the healer you contracted lacks in certain departments, of course, I’m referring to the fact that he has been negligent in his attendance. A true shame for him, although I’m hoping fortunate for us. I’m getting ahead of myself though, allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Etheril, or Ther if you’re feeling friendly, and it just so happens that I am a healer.”
  4. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Mar 29, 2013
    Likes Received:
    As she would approach, Amris too would begin to inspect her. Elven eyes pierced her as if he were attempting to read her thoughts and intentions from one studious gaze. Whether he could or not was irrelevant, Amris just felt he knew trouble when he saw it, and that smile she bore as she approached, and the eyes she made at the other man at the table was more than enough to elicit an eye roll from him.

    Just what they needed, another unknown, not to mention one that seemed more than willing to wear her…interest so plainly. That, or perhaps it was mere manipulation? Gauging the woman from a distance could only go so far, and loathe as he was to admit it, he knew he would need to hear her speak, learn her intentions from her own lips before he could truly pass judgment. Not that it was ever a problem for Amris, he was ever prepared to do so, and as far as first impressions went, she had already made herself look downright unwelcome in his eyes. A reasonable sort would perhaps see this as far too harsh. But Amris felt he had seen her type before, and was already prepared to deny her at the first opportunity.

    The woman then introduced herself, and all began to fall into place. The range of reactions from the table as the one calling herself Ther were mixed, that much was plain. For Na’ima, it was a blink, maybe two as her eyes focused on the new arrival, before settling over her features more thoroughly, inspecting. She was a lovely thing, Na would say that much, she had no qualms about being forward. “Well now, quite the confident one, aren’t we?” She began, sitting back in her chair and looking her over. It would seem the attraction was perhaps not only coming from Falco, perhaps Ther would only eat this up should she discover it, or perhaps not. Time would tell. “I always did like confidence in hires, would not agree, ‘boss’?” She muttered with a nudge of her arm into his.

    Falco, eyeing the woman to his right with a raised brow, felt his eyes close as he gave the lowest of chuckles, air blowing out his nostrils in a humored huff. “It is a good step, that much is true, but not to mention a healer besides.” He leaned forward further, elbows on the table as he brought one of his hands to his chin, and took his turn to gaze upon the newest arrival. “I suppose our mutual friend,” He paused, pointing to the barkeep before continuing. “Let you know of such a vacancy in our little troupe already, yes? Or perhaps the gods are good and have deemed us worthy of sending a chosen our way without even asking.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat back. “But it is good to meet you Ther. You can call me Falco. The charmer here is Na’ima…” He thumbs toward the redguard with a smile, before turning to his other side to continue. “And this one here is- -” The wood elf cut him off, shaking his head immediately. “Unimpressed.” He muttered, taking the offered introduction to instead express his thoughts. He had clearly made his mind up already. “Were that mutual friend of ours more, well, reliable, he would have not have torn down said healer as he mentioned them to you. The man we expect is more than enough to handle this quest. You are not needed.” He muttered, his tone turning to disinterest the longer he spoke. Falco’s brow furrowed as he turned to look upon him, and Amris shrugged. “First pretty thing walks into this bar and you’re dropping it all to welcome her, perhaps I am dealing with mere children after all.” He retorted, unapologetic. “Think with your head, and not your nethers…lest you die and lose the chance to use them.” He muttered in disgust, reading Na’ima’s attraction plainly, but perhaps making an assumption of Falco. Who knew, truly? The boy was never one to make himself plain by his face alone. Sebastien, who had rested silently beside them, finally spoke up. “I agree, I believe we should honor our agreement, and wait for the other to arrive, at the very least. To waste his trip here so earnestly would prove disastrous, especially were we to pull from this pool of recruits again, hmm?”

    Sebastien, the stalwart silver fox, was ever the more diplomatic of the two, even in his disapproval. But both Amris and Falco could see the conflict that Seb had for the girl, and both responded to it predictably. “Two yea’s, two nays…” Amris began, shifting in his seat as he crossed his arms. “Seems the old man and I are not won over by batting eyes, at least…what of you two, hmm?”

    Falco, sighed deeply, heavily. This was posturing, in his mind. Amris was always up front about his thoughts, whether warranted or not. Sebastien was always more veiled, cryptic, but he was right about some things. Alas, he was wrong here, and Falc made sure to express it.

    “We do not have such a wealth of recruits and time that we can simply ignore help when it is offered.” He began. “Pragmatism says we need the aid, we have little time to deal with the threat, and at this point, the two of you are stalling.” He eyed them both. “I like to imagine myself a good judge of character, and I believe she is capable. I say we take her, while she is so kindly offering, and refrain from passing petty judgments on strangers that offer it…are we in agreement?”

    Amris did not buckle, nor unfold his arms, it was clear his opinion remained, but he had wasted enough air on it. Sebastien, looking upon Falco’s conviction, took a moment, then spoke. “No, you are right, boy. We need help, whether we know the source of it or not.” He eyed the girl, giving her a polite nod. Falco turns to look at her, as does Na, who shows a bit of a more mischievous grin. Falco nods at the assessment, not meeting Amris’ gaze which was now squarely on him. Na spoke candidly, smirking at Amris. “Look at that, no more deadlock. Now we can move on, aye?” Amris rolled his eyes again, standing. “I need a drink. Can already feel the regret pooling in my throat like bile.” He muttered, stepping out from behind the table, and off to the bar, while Falco gestured to the open seat before them on the opposite side of the table. “Ther, get comfortable, if you would, while we get you that drink. I believe we have much to discuss, and if there is more to you than a sales pitch, I would like to hear it.” Na, sitting up, seemed all the more interested. Seb continued to eye the girl, keeping his thoughts as his own as he waited for her to speak more on her skills.

    While not unanimous, it would seem she was now part of the team, for better or for worse.
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