Night Stalker.

[HeLLL]

DM

 

Yogor turns to Ty. "Yes I new the boy. He would come in every week to get his Chitchin Dagger repaired. Always playing down by the river he said. Quite sad he dead now. Yogor feels sad. Yogor needs a hug...." Yogor stretches his arms out and looks for some comforting. It is very obvious that Yogor and the boy where close. It also seems that Yogor isn't telling everything by the look in his eyes when he was describing the boy coming to his shop.

[Guest _Thomas]

The sound of crows cawing then scattering in the distance echoes throughout the town. The sun creates a bright glare that makes you squint and want to look away.

But then a figure forms out of the glare. The figure of a breton, most likely 20. He is wearing a black hooded robe with the hood pulled over his face. Only his mouth and nose are visible. His footsteps are heavy and crunch everything beneath them.

His arms are folded across his chest, and his head is bowed down. Giving off the appearanc of a man in deep thought.

He walks up to the large crowd. And when they see him they immediantly part to let him through. Some even salute him. He stands right next to the boy and stares at him. One of the townspeople stepped forward. Com..c..c..comander Thomas? Do you know what did this? Thomas shook his head then knelt down. He picked the boy up in both arms , and stood back up. Lets at least give him a proper burial. whispered Thomas. He carried the dead little boy into the temple.

[HeLLL]

DM

 

Yogor runs after Thomas and follows him into the temple. There is noone inside.

[OddGuy]

Oquilerdalin slowly follows the two into the Temple. His head is bowed, and he is massaging his forehead, obviously in deep thought.

[Peregrine]

Completely occupied by examining the body, Alenee barely noticed the new arrival. After a few more minuites of searching, she finally stands up, a look of frustration on her face. She turns to speak with Ty. "This wasn't done by any weapon I've ever seen. The marks are too...." suddenly Damian's collapsed form catches her attention, her voice dropping off mid-word. Pushing the gathering crowd out of the way, she rushes to his side. After a quick glance at his injuries, she points accusingly at the nearest observers. "You! Why are you just standing there like a mindless fool! Go find me a healer! Even this worthless hell must have one somewhere!" Despite her obvious anger and frustration, the tone of authority is clear. The voice of one who is absolutely confident in her orders, and very familiar with command. Then, the crowd quickly removed from her mind, she bends over Damian's body. With almost unthinking familiarity, she tears a strip of cloth from her cloak and begins to bandage his wounds. Looking up briefly, she is obvoiusly not pleased with the crowd's efforts. "What are you waiting for? I can only slow the damage, without a healer this man may soon die!"

[Sol'Kanar]

OOC: Hey guys, mind if I join you? B) HeLLL gave me the ok.

Posting char desc. here to make it simpler.

 

Character: Feyzure (Hires himself out under the name "Brand")

Race: Dunmer

Class: Assassin

Age: 27

 

Description: Feyzure is a man who looks extraordinarilly bland and dull. Nothing about his facial features make him stand out. Black hair, cut in whatever the popular fashion is that time of year, common clothes, and a dark red robe, under which the slight clink of imperial mail gives away that he's armored. He has blue eyes, warm and inviting. He wears an iron short sword at his hip, as many commoners do for protection. However, the sword is hardly his tool of trade, rather, it is a decoy. In a concealed pocket, he carries a sharp glass dagger, enchanted to blind whomever he strikes when he calls out a slight incantation: Midnight. It is his preferred tool of his trade. His ability to blend in with any crowd, his inviting personality, and generous spirit lull victims into a false sense of security, making him prosperous in his work, although he's not as skilled as many professional killers. Although a killer by trade, he can never turn down a good mystery when he's not being hired out. He carries several potions on a hip belt, among them healing potions, and, of course, poisons, cleverly mislabeled as popular alchoholic drinks (Feyzure does not drink himself).

 

IC: Sitting at the bar in what passed for a tavern, Feyzure was not having a good day. Down to only 100 drakes, and no one in this pitiful town needed a killing. Outrageous.. that no one was in the middle of a feud, or eager to displace a rival merchant. Ah, well, perhaps he'd have better luck when he moved on to Caldera. As he passes 10 drakes to the tavern owner, tipping well in case he needed information in the future, he hears loud shouts for a healer, and strides quickly out of the tavern. Pushing through the crowd, he reaches the warrior woman in the center of all the commotion, and hands her a standard flask of healing from his belt.

 

"I believe this is what you need," Feyzure said, nodding at the breton she is tending to, and giving Alenee a warm, knowing smile.

[The_Reaper]

Ty follows Alenee to were Damian is lying unconcius, and notices the newcomer handing her a healing potion.

"Who might you be dunmer?" Says Ty, adressing the strange man who´s wearing a dark red robe. As the man moves, Ty notices he´s wearing armor underneath.

[Sol'Kanar]

IC: Cordially, Feyzure replies, "Just a man who knows when best to aid felllow travelers, I suppose. As for my name, I was born Feyzure. Anyway, obviously a group of travellers means there's some sort of trouble around here. Might you need another sword?"

[Elucidator]

Elucidator has been observing all the events and decides that while the death was tragic, he had to do some interviewing with Betolious Pictar.

 

Elucidator makes his journey to Betolious Pictar's farm.

Hoping to ask some questions about the boy and Pontius Nirthat.

 

 

<ooc helll you will have to tell me if Betolious is outside or else what the state of the farm is as I arrive :D

[Peregrine]

Alenee looks up at the new arrivals with an annoyed look at the disturbance. She seems about to yell at them as well, when Feyzure begins to speak. As she listens, the anger fades a bit. She replies "Thank you, and I hope you're right." She takes the flask, and with a look of uncertain hope, brings it to Damian's mouth. She tips it up, letting a small ammount flow into his mouth.