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The Elsweyr Expedition


Keanumoreira

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The Count waited and waited, and as the hours dragged on, his patience gradually lessened. At last, when it appeared that no one would come, he directed himself to his quarter's, declaring the expedition a failure. "Keel'lye, set our sails to Morrowind," he breathed bitterly, "we're going home."

 

It was at this moment that a voice addressed him, male, apparently seeking to join the crew. The Count turned in slight disbelief, wondering if what he heard was true. And indeed, it was, for there before him, a Wood Elf stood, waiting to be answered. Overwhelmed of the possibility that the expedition may still have a chance, he was at a loss for words, stammering and struggling to organize his thoughts. But before he could say another another word, he boarded the ship. But it mattered not, for he wasn't the only one arrived seeking membership.

 

"Captain!", Keel'lye cried, "Two Bretons approach!" He turned his gaze from the Wood Elf, and sure enough, there they were, both female. One Of them seemed to ask if what they have heard of the expedition was true. He laughed heartily, leaning forward with confidence and zeel, "This is an adventure that will leave you with what few can or will dare to boast about. Everything about the rumors, stories, and gossip is anything but a lie. My dear, everything that you have heard is indeed true and more!" He raised his eyes to a figure approaching from the distance, who appeared to be a Nord, although the Count couldn't confirm it.

 

Renewed with a certain strength that only hope can promise, Count Llau'wai welcomed them onto the ship, one by one, and retreated to his quarters in a rather mad dash. Keel'lye was left to address the crowd, "The Captain will return shortly with your contracts. Until then, please make yourselves comfortable. Your most gracious patron has laid out a feast here, on deck, which we are to enjoy from now, through departure, and until we make land in Senchal."

 

The Khajiit woman made her way to the table, lifting lids and explaining each cuisine as they were presented,"This is but a taste of the glories Elsweyr has to offer you. Sweet candies, pastries, and pies, no moon sugar of course, but appetizing nonetheless. There are also honeyed meats -boar, pig, chicken, lamb, and minotaur-, salted fish with appropriate spices -rare, expensive, and unique to our nation-, various fruits -both sour and sweet- and all manners of other dishes from the other provinces, for just as our land has welcomed the people of Tamriel and their customs for centuries, so do we greet you with open arms." She scratches the back of her neck for a moment, briefly in thought, "of course...that idea has been strained in recent years, but we welcome you nonetheless! Come! Dine! The Count has spared no expense!"

Edited by Keanumoreira
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Eldrin accepted his meal. Noblemen normally wouldn't give him such luxurious food. The fanciest he usually got was dried pork. Here, it was as if the captain had brought a festival on board. If the captain was this wealthy and generous, then by the Divines he could only imagine what the pay would be. He was going to have to thank Commodus later for giving him this job as well as keeping it a surprise. Speaking of Elsweyr, he was familiar with it's people, as it was easier to find a Khajiit in his guild than snow on a winter's day. He occasionally got a mission to Elsweyr, a few times a year at most. He had the occasional job of getting either moon sugar or skooma for those mentally unwell addicts. He'd once been to Senchal some years ago. Senchal was a mercantile port city filled with open markets, bazaars, and of course, the black market. But with all of it's success, the city still hasn't fully recovered from the Knahaten flu epidemic centuries ago. As a result, much of the city remains ruined or abandoned.

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Icira smiled at the prospect that she may finally be getting somewhere. Seating herself at the table, she was somewhat overwhelmed by the wide selection; as she was usually traveling on foot, she was accustomed to rations small enough to carry in a satchel. Even when she and her family had returned to the Arcane University just recently, she had kept her portions small, simply because that was what she was used to. Still, not wishing to appear rude—especially when tensions between Elsweyr and the Empire were so high—she resolved to accept what all present would consider a full meal. Bowing her head, she whispered a quick prayer of thanks to the Eight before indulging in the bounty laid before her.

 

On the whole, her familiarity with Elsweyr was somewhat limited—she had gleaned bits of information from books of history and myth, but nothing that went into detail. She didn't even know that many Khajiit, so most of what she knew came from the stories her husband, Willis, told of his parents' adventuring party, one member of whom had been a charismatic Suthay-raht who often acted as their negotiator and merchant. Tragically, he was murdered along with the rest of the intrepid adventurers, save Willis' mother, by that bloodthirsty beast Kr'ohr gro-Lestim, who harvested them for their souls after having been their friend for many years. What circumstance could have possibly created such a monstrous individual was a mystery for the ages; Willis frequently said that such a person could only be born, not created, but Icira always thought that sounded like a badly-written fairytale. After all, no one can be born a monster, can they?

 

But whatever the reason, the monster existed. Just where exactly, no one had been able to say; even where signs of his presence were evident, no one seemed to have heard of him, and those who had endeavored to help find him had turned up nothing. Elsweyr was one place that had not yet been searched, and Icira was hopeful that this expedition would point her to the lead she and Willis had been seeking for twelve years. Meanwhile, Willis was on his way to Skyrim, believing they were more likely to find Kr'ohr if they split up. Icira had objected to the plan at first, thinking it unwise for either of them to confront him alone, but Willis remained steadfast, reminding her that they had the Synod at their disposal and could call on them for help anytime. Though reluctant, Icira eventually relented. Their children, Kaeli and Orlin, were left at the University to keep them safe and further their combat training.

 

Jerking her train of thought back to the present, Icira quite suddenly realized that she had not been told the exact purpose of this expedition. Well, she supposed it would all be explained to the assembled crew once the Count returned with their contracts. The Count had come across as somewhat odd to her—in her experience, it wasn't in the nature of a Dunmer to be immediately trusting of anyone not of their race. Even her adopted son, who had not hesitated to save Kaeli's life the first time they met, was wary of everyone around him, although that may only have been due to personal experience, as he didn't particularly trust other Dunmer either.

 

Icira considered asking the Khajiit woman for further details, but as no one else had yet spoken, she was uncertain whether it would be appropriate and decided to hold her tongue for the moment. Patience, after all, was a virtue.

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Violet curtsied to her host then moved on to the feast as she was directed. She reached out and took a candied treat from the table and tried it.

"Wow..." she blinked, then sampled more and more dishes. It was all amaziing.

"I've never had such nice food..." She said to herself. Picking a seat and draping her cloak, she revealed her attire; The black one. She sat down and began to eat, not bothering to meet anyone.

 

She may or may not meet them anyways, and she wasn't really wanting to go back to her old job.

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  • 3 weeks later...

(Alright, let's go ahead and get this thing going)

 

The Count returned sometime later with a small chest in his hands. He dropped it in the middle of the table rather imprudently, seemingly more interested in what was inside than if he shattered a plate or two. Carefully, as one might expect from a man of his ambitions, the Count retrieved the contracts and laid them at the table where each of his guests would be seated. He frowned at how many were empty and tucked the remaining documents back into the chest. With a sudden air of confidence, he jerked up and took his seat at the head of the table, ready to engage his guests: "Everyone, please take your seats. Everything will be explained to you."

 

Keel'lye approached him from the side, almost submissively, "I hope the food is to your liking captain." The Count sampled his dish, sensing the Khajiit's nervous gaze from over his shoulders, "It's exquisite as always. Hot and delicious, as if it were just prepared. How did you manage to preserve it so well?" Keel'lye dipped her head, looking out towards the waters of Lake Rumare, "This one used a type of salt that is native to the deserts of Elsweyr. It keeps the food hot and delectable, even in such conditions as these. It is very difficult to acquire, and this one went through much lengths to obtain but an adequate sample, but she knows how much it is important to you."

 

The Count was somewhat taken aback by this news, evident in a brief but dramatic pause, "Keel'lye...you didn't have to do that for me." For a moment, she said nothing, what seemed like words stirring but expressed incomprehensibly, "I know how much you try to pull your weight around this ship, and I know that you worry that you don't do as much as you should. But the truth is that you do and that I would be lost without you. No one on board the Madeira, including her handsome and devilishly intelligent captain, is more fit to ride these waves." They laughed, exchanging glances, "But it is the truth and I want you to know that. So please, don't overextend yourself. Take a seat, next to me, and let us enjoy the splendid gifts that an afternoon can offer."

 

Keel'lye nodded graciously, touched by her Captain's benevolence, and as she moved to take her seat, he remembered that they weren't alone and blinked at his company. He noticed that some were seated, others standing, but nevertheless, he felt that the time was right, "Ah, yes, please forgive me. The memory of a man of this age is waning." He gathered the chest by his side as he addressed his guests, "The contracts you find before you detail the points and purposes of our voyage, appropriately named "The Elsweyr Expedition." You'll agree that no one is held liable for any fatalities that may occur on our voyage. Your life is your responsibility and yours alone. Each of us should work together to benefit the other; remember, we are a team, and we need to work as one if we're going to survive. Immediately following everyone's signatures, we'll make our may to Senchal in the southern kingdom of Pelletine and begin our journey from there. Forts, ruins, settlements- the aim is to find as much treasure as we can. I know reliable and trustworthy people in each of the cities who can pick up what we find and transport it back to a warehouse I've purchased here in the Imperial City. Following the end of our expedition, we will return here and collect payment. We'll be on our way and that will be the end of our terms of agreement."

 

He leaned back, taking a sip of his wine and allowing it to wash about daringly; after a moment, he looked up from his glass, "any questions?"

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"Just one, sir," said Icira as she skimmed over her contract. "I must admit to having an ulterior motive for joining your party—there's someone I'm trying to find."

 

The way she saw it, there was no point in keeping her employer in the dark about this. She hoped her upfront honesty would help earn his trust more completely.

 

"To your knowledge, have the people of Elsweyr noticed anything out of the ordinary recently?"

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Introducing Judah Mulsir



Pronounced: Jue-duh Mol-seer



Age: 33


Sex: Male


Race: Human/Redguard


Birthplace: Sentinel


Lives: Daggerfall



Weapons of choice: Sera (See-rah) ,Light Bow and arrows and Sema (See-mah), an ornate Scimitar Created by Reman Al Farad, a member of the famed Al Farad family of artificers in Sentinel.



Fighting Tactics: Summons Dremora Lords and undead minions to quickly tear down the opposition while he unleashes ranged punishment from Sera. He was also trained by one of the last sword-singers, but his magical prowess overshadows his sword skills but not by much.



Attitude: Don't let his hulking body and 6'6" stature fool you, he is a scholar and a savant. He is modest and wise for his age.



Background: His adventures started at the age of 10, when he ran away from his noble ancestry to pursue his interests in magic. A Necromancer, by the name of Muldir (Mol-deer) Death-Speaker, took him on as an apprentice and taught him the dark arts and the mastery of Summoning. At 18, he and Muldir a falling out when Muldir tried to take the soul of his girlfriend, Sera. Judah paralyzed Muldir and slue him with a magical dagger that trapped his soul then had his thrall and childhood friend, Buel, a summoned Dremora Lord he developed a friendship with, vaporize the dagger. Sera and Judah then married at 20 and had a child, Sema 2 years later. They lived prosperously in Sentinel for a time until it was attacked by a vampiric branch of The Morag Tong in 3E 430. His family was spared only if he agreed to join them and aid them by enchanting, their weapons with his notorious Mindflayer and Visceral Chargnum enchants.


He and his family agreed and to seal the deal they were all made vampires.



Strengths: A master Conjurer, skilled with a bow, wealthy, trained by an Ansei in the sword.



Weaknesses: Sunlight, fire, bloodlust



Association: The Dark Brotherhood, The Morag Tong, The Mage's Guild, The Al Farad Family



A large man walks in. He seems intimidating enough. Tall and muscular, his eyes stern and determined with a faint glow of unnatural power. He carries a decorative walking stick and his robes are out fitted with leather plates and black as night. A runic sash draped across his shoulders gives proof to a wizard of sorts. He carries an ornate bow on his back and an ebony and starmetal hilt can be seen coming out an ebony sheath. He takes off his hood revealing a shaved and tattooed head. His skin is slightly pale for a Redguard and he has an odd presence about him.



"I see I'm not too late." He said blankly. "I have heard word of your expedition and would like to accompany you if I could. I am very interested in this area." He pulls out a fat sack of Septims and presents it to Count Llua'Wai."


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Out of all of his previous experiences as a sellsword, none have been this 'exotic'. Eldrin quickly looked over the contract laid in front of him, signed it, and slid it across the table to the Count's Khajiit assistant. He had only one question: "Will the total loot's worth be divided amongst ourselves, or do you already have a set payment for each of us?"

 

Almost on cue, a tall, stalwart Redguard man appeared out of nowhere and made a last minute job application. He also presented the Count with a sizable bag of gold. He'd never heard of a man who paid to get a job. As far as he knew, he was not told he needed to pay a toll to embark on this expedition. He looked the part of a shady dealer or a fanatic, but you never know. He wordlessly returned to his own business. That man's concerns weren't his, but he still tried to keep an eye. Without much else to do, and without further questions, he made himself comfortable. He leaned back in his chair, kicked his feet up on the table, and sharpened his arrows one by one with a stone.

Edited by twentynine29
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"I do not want to work for you rather, I'd like to hire your crew to take me to Elswyr I have some research that requires study of Khajiit culture." Judah takes out a phila filled with a red liquid from his pack and favors a bit then places it carefully back into his pack. The bright sun makes his glowing eyes squint and his skin hot. He puts a pair of long black gloves on and covers his head more with his hood."I don't mean to rush but, will we be off soon and if not is it possible for me to go inside? I sun burn easily." He says in discomfort.
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