General Chat

[ObsidianKnight]

Titanius looks up from his mug of sujamma. "Yeah. This is not a good time to be in this tavern. There's an assassin here.... and we don't know who...." Titanius stands up, and wavers a little, slightly drunk. "Ugh... I feel bad... I'd better sleep this off." He struggles up the steps to his room.

[bloodmoon_werewolf]

Race-vampirial dark elf

Sex-male

Class-shape shifter

Name-Raithe

 

A dark elf with black dwemer armour and a long black cape with a hood walks in the tavern and listens for gossip. WHAT ASSASSAIN!!!

[Jouko]

Name- Jouko Akujin

Race- Daemon

Sex- Male

Class- Vampire/Assassin/Thief/WarriorMage/Mecenary

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A figuire dressed in black enters the bar with a fairly large sword on his back, he walks up to the bar and orders the stiffest drink the bartender has. He walks back to the darkest cornor table and unhooks his sword and sets it beside the table. He takes off his cloak reveiling two wings, (demon and angel), he sits down and begins drinking slowly from the flask. He stares around the room with cold nearly black eyes.

[loveme4whoiam]

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.

[Jouko]

Jouko stares back at the tall one with his peircing eyes, "the name is Jouko, sit thee before i change my mind. what buisiness doest thou have with me."

[loveme4whoiam]

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.

[Jouko]

"I am not a normal of my race, we are a war race, we fight to live and live to fight, but im am different from the others, regular of my people have blood red eyes, and 2 demon wings, as you can tell i have nearly black eyes and 2 diff. wings, one being a demon and the other i still do not know of, my father said an ancient came to him and birthed me, i believe it not, i have been shunned from my village for being different. As for any lore i know of i do not, i came from the mountains far in the distance, a newcomer here i know no one, i trust no one. As for you sir? Your Lore and background should be quite interesting.

[loveme4whoiam]

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."

[Jouko]

"well the was interesting, as for your sword the Unqualë, what is it made of besides steel? My sword is made of a demon's tooth, i slayed the scum for he was the one who brought me to these lands, he taught me how to fight, then he relized i was surpassing him so he sent some assassins after me, i found out from one of them that he was the one who sent them after me. I slue him the next day, took his teeth and made my armor and sword from them, then i came here. Barkeep bring me another round"

 

OOC: i wish others would post

[loveme4whoiam]

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.