Jump to content

General Chat


Preacher

Recommended Posts

  • 1 month later...
  • Replies 717
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

wildfire walked into the tavern, sat down and streched his feet out on another chair . 2 Minutes later two nords burst through the doors. when they saw wildfire they started walking over to him shoving people out of their way. "you killed our brother" one of the told wildfire ."for that you die". he drew his steel longsword and charged wildfire. when he was close enough wildfire swung his right foot up and kicked the nord. the tip of his combat boot hit the nord in the chin. insted of recoiling back the nord's head stayed attached to wildfire's boot. wildfire then lowered his foot and everyone could see a small blood soaked blade comeing out of the tip of his boot. " you'll pay for that!" the other nord said. before he could grab his claymore wildfire drew his gun and fired one shot. the back of the second nords head was blown out. wildfire then grabed the two corpses by their throats, draged them to the wall and threw them threw the window. he then walked over to the bar and droped a small pouch onto the counter. " for those who have blood in their drinks the next rounds on me". he then went back to his seat and sat down. the barman oppened the pouch, it was full of gems...
Link to comment
Share on other sites

(Continued from a parallel storyline in the other tavern chat)

 

Picking a sliver of skull from his cold glass of ale, Camuel admired the blood spray across the wall.

'Hmmm, I've foregone feeding for too long' he pondered, downing the last halfpint, blood and all. 'Ewww by Boethia, Nord blood, tastes like icey piss water...filthy Nedes!' Camuel spitted the last mouthful back into the glass and shoved it across the table. It had been three days since he had first taken refuge in the tavern. His wounds from the severe sun exposure had fully healed. Remarkable even for a man with the blood of a vampire. 'I guess that soul gem effected me in more ways than one' he recollected, recalling the feeling of his soul being removed and the incineration of his skin before it all suddenly unexpectadly stopped. Camuel knew he should've died that night, he knew that there was no way he could've survived the destructive magic contained in that soul gem. Leaning back on his chair, he let himself relax for the first time in days. It was only a matter of time until the night mother informed the listener that their Argonian swit failed in his mission, they were never gonna stop until Camuel lay cold dead like their last two agents. Placing his hands round the back of his head as he leant back, he felt a strange unfamiliar twinge in his stomach. That twinge growing to an excrusiating pain. Tumbling from his chair and knocking into a drunken Dunmer, Camuel clutched his gut feeling blood between his fingers.

'Wha...what the obliv...?' he mumbled, the customers backing away as his blood began to flood the floor. Closing his eyes, the feeling of death was close, he knew this feeling from the moment the black sould gem reflected upon himself...but as before, something divine or rather daedric must have intervened. There, in his pool of blood the pain diminished, pushing himself up from the floor Camuel was very much alive. Looking down a haggered arrow protruded from his gut. Plucking it from his stomach and chucking it against the window it tore through. Camuel stood, where no mortal man should ever step foot, he felt a fire burning within himself...something no man nor mer had ever experienced before. Realising suddenly the purpose behind black sould gems is to prolong life, the backfire of his soul gem when in use on the Argonian merged Camuels soul with that of the thousands of lives he had taken before. A backfire of epic proportions, the dark brotherhood rather than taking his life presented the vampire Camuel with immortality.

Grabbing up his pack and staff, he took a step to the tavern door. Life was just about to become very very interesting for the entire of Tamriel.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

My mother always used to tell me I was born in Black Marsh, with the rest of the Argonians, but I never believed her. I know I was born in Dune, and the reason I know this is my mother is a cat. She is not my mother. I have killed her many times, but she keeps coming back on rare occasions. I know Dune was my birthplace because the darkness of Black Marsh makes the skin pale, and my skin is dark, and black, a shade of color that comes from the extreme heat of the sun. I know also that my true father was a Dremora Valkynaz. My father always hated my lizard-like traits, and always considered me a "bovine swamp-dwelling parasite." and considered me to be "just as laconic, imbecilic and uncivilized as the rest of the muck-raping and self-consuming animals inhabiting the utterly pathetic land of Black Marsh. The only time I ever saw my father's face was when I killed him. I had no reason for it, except I just had to get those thoughts out of my head. I have no memories of him, just those words meant to offend lizards rushing through my head... every waking moment of all my days... and in every timeless moment of my dreams. I had to get the thoughts out of my head, that's all. I often wondered why he hated Argonians so much, seeing as he would probably have to have married one in order for my existence. And why was this cat lady always annoying me...?

I don't have much memory of my past, it just flows. I am slow, but life forces me to live it too fast. I can never think much... never imagine. Instead of an imagination I have a slideshow of sporadic pictures in my head... I never know which ones were real. So I never knew what I was convicted of when I arrived in the prisons of the Imperial City. I saw the emperor die... but didn't we all... it's strange isn't it... maybe the pictures are all connected...

I do not understand why those guards had to hack away at me for stealing their sword...it was shiny and I did save their city... hm what fools... I never think about it much though... one silver sword was the cause of all of this trouble... I have slain important members of every city... I had a bounty so huge I had to spend 16 years in jail...sleeping... as a vampire. I wonder why the Blades never accepted me... I only try to do good... maybe if I killed them we would both understand more clearly. I love the Nine Divines! How I love to deceive them! I kill off legions of soldiers just when they think I'm on their side... haha what fools to believe in something as narrow-viewed as religion.

Oh and yes I have killed many Daedra, I know I am half-Daedra, but how I do enjoy killing off members of my own race.

I hope you think you have learned to know who I am, now; Skooma, please. Give me as many as you think I want. I would like this place to be a little bit more... chaotic.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 5 months later...

After walking into the bar, and lighting an entire wall of it aflame, Khale Stormstrike sat down at the bar, and watched as the people inside ran around screaming for water. He closed up the bag on his belt containing the explosive cards he had just bought from a vendor in Archaon, the City of Silence. The bartender looked at him as if he were a madman! After seeing his look, Khale pulled out about five shaving razors and started juggling them, then proceeded to toss them at bottles on the wall, successfully breaking each one that they hit.

"Now you are assured that I am a madman. Now can you please go about your regular business?" As Khale said this the bartender frantically started polishing glasses and bottles.

"Alright.." He said, ponderously, "Let's see if I can get some work, or at least some poor sap to buy into my act..."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 months later...
A tall, Extreamly large man walks through the door. As he neers the bar the barkeep can see that he is no man but something totally different. This person has glowing green eyes and cracks in his skin that are also glowing green. He casts a forbodding presence and the other patrons warely back away from him. As he approaches the bar the barkeep notices the massive claymore strapped to his back. It appears to be made out of bones with a skull with rubys set in the eye sockets as the pommel. Its blade is astonshingly large and seems to be made out of the sharpened bone of some great beast. His armour is just a simple Hassassins cloak and hood dyed black though the effect on this man made it rather frightening. He quitely sits at the bar and orders a drink. As the barkeep finishes cleening the glasses, three Imperials enter the bar. The Imperials scann the bar and spot the man. The first draws his bow and takes aim at the man. As the imperial looses the arrow, the man draws his blade with inhuman speed, both deflecting the arrow and decapatating the archer in one swing. He pivots, bringing his blade up and cutting the next imperial clean in two, from groin to neck. The third imperial rases his lingsword and bravely charges the man. the man easily deflects the imperials attack and quickle dispaches him with a quick blow to the head. The man stands between the three bodies, splattered in gore, while the other patrons watch in both awe and horror, unable to move. The man calmy sheathes his weapon and sits at his stool, tosses a pouch full of coins and calmly asks "Will that cover the damages?"
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 year later...

Jack Franchi walks into the bar in a clean black suit and fedora, noticing all the commotion, and sits down quietly and orders a red wine. A shifty looking trader approaches with a sneer. "Red wine?" The trader says mockingly. "Boy, this is a tavern. Order a beer. Prove you're a man." The trader chuckles as he walks away. Jack then, with considerable speed, grabs the trader by the scruff of his shirt and flings him towards the wall. The trader makes contact with the wall with a dull thud. Jack then walks over to the smart-mouth trader and begins beating him mercilessly. After the gory fight is over, the trader lay bunched up against the wall, alive but not by much, and Jack merely brushes off his shoulders and walks back to his seat and continues to sip his red wine. His previously clean suit was blood-spattered in the front. He removes two sets of brass knuckles from his hands and places them in an inside pocket.

Another man enters. This man is also in a clean black suit and fedora, and he meets with Jack, patting him on the back in a friendly way and starting a chat. It's obvious that the two men know each other. Because of the way they dress, others in the tavern begin to speculate that it's two members of the Capitol Mafia based in the D.C. Wasteland. The second man orders a beer, and it arrives with all its frothy goodness. During all the conversations the two men have, Jack sits there, looking rather uninterested. In the evening, when the bar starts to empty, Jack finally moves. He goes for the .44 magnum strapped to his belt, hidden by his jacket. In moments the second man's brains are spattered on the wall behind him. As he exits the tavern, a black car meets him at the front. He gets in, and the only words the barkeep hears before seeing Jack leave is Jack himself saying: "to Tenpenny, boys."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 months later...

"Tch. Being in here is like being in two different centuries." Aryan thinks aloud.

 

With his ADD taking flight, he starts scratching his tabletop slowly, but ever so relentlessly until he had scratched the entire word "Ezra" into it.

 

"Damn hunters..."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.

×
×
  • Create New...