loveme4whoiam

Erunanion looks up from his chair, wondering what he just happened. He looks around bleary-eyed at the bottles of greif, mazte, and sujamma, and groans. Mumbling incoherently, he says "Must have slept right through it all." He looks around, looking for someone to talk to, in order to wear of the painful headache that was growing in his head. OOC: Do elves get hangovers?

This is turning into a thread to post corny song quotes... Anyway, frankly love gets in the way. It causes pain, death, and suffering to all. Although, it does inspire almost every song ever written, so it has even more blame attached to it :lol: It may sound like i'm bitter, but thats who i am. *hints - look at the name...* EDIT: Has anyone married posted on here yet?

OOC: You and me both./OOC "My sword, Unqualë, is Elvish for Death. It is aptly named, for it has caused unqualë for all who have challenged it. She has a story of her own, as a matter of course." He walks over to the rack, lifting it reverently away from the bracket. He carrys it back, laying it along the length of the table. "She was once the weapon of a great lord of men, who through his greed made war on my ancestor's home. A great army stormed my homeland, killing and maiming as they went. Hundreds of my kin were killed, until finally, in the Great Battle of Falasfor, the Elf army defeated the human aggressors. My great-grandfather, Roccondil, leader of the Elves, gave the Human Lord a chance to save his life in single combat. "They dueled for two days without rest, battling constantly until eventually my ancestor slew the evil lord, but at a price. His sword, Andurlil, was destroyed, shattering with the strength Roccondil used in his final thrust. Taking his opponent's sword as the spoils of victory, Roccondil claimed it as his own. But there was a fearful enchantment upon the blade, and he feared to use it in battle. "He agonised for days on what course to take, eventually taking it to the greatest sorceror in the land. He removed the dreadful incantation from the sword, replacing it with a spell of good. It forever will be undamaged by rust, use or wear, and shall stun all those it attacks with a powerful blast of the lightning element." Eruánion sighed, and looked affectionately at the sword. "My ancestors have carried it ever since, slaying the dark creatures who would cross it." He looked over his shoulder at the bow on the wall. "That, however, has a very different story behind it. But that is another story." He picks up his drink, and swallows it in a large draught.

Eruánion looks back, staring at Jouko, paying attention to his eyes as he spoke about them. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. "I too have been shunned by most who know me. My mother was a High Elf, one of the noble Houses of the Western Elves. My father was a great adventurer, skilled with his blade." He gestured at the sword hanging on the wall. "That sword, Unqualë, was my father's." He looked down at his drink, then met Jouko's eyes with burning anger in his own. "My parents were brought together during a great migration of the Elves. He protected her from the numerous enemies that attacked them. "I was born on the night the great migration ended. My parents, however, had committed a great act of depravity on their part; High Elf and Dark Elf are bound by their seperate traditions never to even talk to each other. I was kept a secret, trained by my father and his most trusted friends in the ways of war, and by my mother in the arts, lore, and speech. When i reached maturity, i was given the tools of my skills, and sent away from my parents." He reaches for his greif, and swallows the mug in one. He gestures for another. "Shortly after i left, i heard tell that my home had been attacked by a band of Orcs and Goblins. I returned as fast as my feet could carry me, but i was too late. All the people that i knew and trusted were dead." The barman placed the pot on the table, and with a tourist's naïvety pays double for his drink. "I hunted them for three weeks. When i caught up with them i slaughtered them all." Eruánion looks up at his drinking companion, looking for a response. "I now walk from place to place, learning the lore of the land my mother loved and destroying the enemies my father killed."

Eruánion looks back, matching his stare. "I am new to this place, i was hoping you might tell me of local lore, or knowledge of your race. I am a scholar in training, and any information you might give me would be greatly appreciated. He leans back, sips his drink, and waits for a reply.

A tall stranger enters the bar; too tall to be a human. A large cloak covers his body and face, leaving only his eyes showing. These eyes, one blue, one blood-red, surveyed the room. He walks towards the weapons rack, and lifts a large, battle-worn bow from his shoulder, and unbuckles a long steel sword from his waist. Hanging both in the rack, he approaches the bar. He hails the barman with a wave, and orders a greif. Turning around to lean against the bar, he unwraps his robes from his face. His features are unique yet hard to place. Looking about the room, he spots a daemon drinking quietly in a corner. Picking up his drink, he strolls over and extends a hand. "Greetings. I am Eruánion. I am new to this town. How fair thee, Mr...?" The question hung in the air, as did the hand.

Introducing Eruánion [be aware, long intro story coming up] You stand in the lee of a building, lookig out at the driving snow. A cold wind blows outside the tavern, carrying on it the sound of running feet and clashing blades. You look into the white haze, but see nothing through the blanket of snow. The sound of an goblin's scream erupts out of the still night, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. More blows ring out of the dark, then a sudden, distict explosion of a fireball shocks your senses. A long steel blade tumbles out of the sky to land point-down metres away from your feet, hilt standing upright out of the street. A loud curse in some form of Elvish just reaches your ears, followed by the deadly song of arrows let fly. Grunts of pain were the only sounds heard in the street, followed by silence more deadly the loudest noise. Your hand drops to the hilt of your sword cautiously. A stranger strides out of the darkness, black cloak billowing around him. A beautiful Elvish bow is carried idly in his left hand. He walks over to his sword, picking it up with reverence. Glancing briefly in your direction, he nods respectfully. He sheaths his word, and walks on into the night. Name: Eruánion Pronunced: E-ru-yan-e-ron Age: 156 Race: High Elf Mother-Dark Elf father Languages spoken: Quenya Sindarin (mother tongue), the Common Tongue Class: Ranger (well versed in blade and bow, and also skilled in tracking. Basic skill in Restoration and Illusion spells) Weapons of Choice: Enchanted Ebony Longblade, hand-made longbow with enchanted Glass arrows Armour: Full Glass set covered by a large black robe Battle Tactics: Can adapt to most combat situations. If faced by many enemies he will try to disable as many as possible with his bow before being drawn into a melee. If one-on-one he will prefer to duel honourably rather than kill them from range. Despises mages because it is the one area he has little skill in. Personality: He has a powerful sense of honour and will potentially risk his life in the pursuit of honour and respect. Being half-cast between Dark and High Elf, but retaining more of his Dark Elf roots, he is wise in the lore of the land, and deadly with blade and bow. The flaw in his character is his aggression towards mages and magic-users, which stems from his own in-ablility in that field. He feels embarrassed by his lack of skill when he should possess all the qualities of a skilled mage; he covers this embarrassment with anger towards all mages who show up his weakness. He also bears the racial hatred of goblins all Elves carry with them. Despite this, he is a good man, and will avoid aggression unless absolutely necessary.

Yeah, bows are good for softening up a target for melee. But the same could be said for destruction spells that do damage "on target". These have the added advantage of doing damage every time you cast them. So which would be better for the player? If you're a purist fighter, a bow fits with the image B) but is largely impractical (debatable, see above) until you can afford the best bows and arrows. If you are a mage-blade (like me - i guess i could fall into that class) then using spells rather than bows if both easier and more practical. What do you guys think?

If you go under the assumption that the player is right-handed, then the bow IS held in the wrong hand. Oops. As for this all i can say is, give the man a drink. And a straight-jacket. ;)

So, does everyone think that Bethesda severly messed up how the bows work, or at least made them too complex?

You lot have WAY to much time on your hands :D

There's logic speaking Pob :D I thought it was the BM beginning? I read in the little pamphlet you get in the box saying you get attacked in your sleep, like the Trib beginning. So i assumed that the DB lot were from BM rather than Trib. Cheers for the info. Hang on a sec, that means i'm still going to have some fool from BM attack me as well... Thanks for the thoght about the bow. But would Bethesda put that much detail into the physics? It would be nice if they did (wink, wink, ES IV) but may be beyond the engine at this point?

DragoonFurey, i know what you mean. Ive had arrows fly through the side of an Ogrim before. The collison detection is slightly suspect, methinks. Right, to answer everyones question: 1. My skill is 35-36 (i started with it as a Major skill) 2. My fatigue is usually at full. When i go hunting i usually walk a bit to let it reach full again 3. Crosshairs are on (didnt know you could turn them off - pretty useless anyway). I'm in 2st Person (knida obvious :huh: ) 4. I'm using either Chitin arrows or Iron arrows that i found on a corpse Last point about Trib, i thought that being attacked by the Dark Brotherhood guys (who have really good armour - gracias :P ) overruled the Trib beginning?

Yeah, got all the latest driver for my hunk of junk. ANd i just wen out and bought Tribunal and Bloodmoon, so everything should be up-to-date (yeah i got the patch for bloodmoon before you say anything) Kinda off topic a bit here, but i installed Trib and Bloodmoon at the same time, and i ive only had the triggers for the BM quests. I havent tried travelling there yet, but none of the Mournhold talk-topics have appeared on NPC's liek they have for Solethiem (also spelt wrong) Happened to anyone else?

Heres a question for Bethesda. Why do all the bows i use always fire to the right of where i aim? I swear i'm not an idiot or a newbie, this actually happens every time i fire an arrow (but not bolts, never liked crossbows). Mostly its with the Chitin Short Bow but even when i got hold of a Dardric (spelt wrong, so sue me :P ) Longbow, it stil happened. Is it a glitch in the game, or is it that my computer sucks and is messing it up. Any ideas? :huh:

Seems most people use the Lady - I do - for any char i make. I think Bethesda made a typo tho - its way under-balanced. Someone made a mod to lower the values - i forget who, sorry - on the old MWFiles site. I wonder how many people would chose the Lady after the change...