Forgotten Civilization

[Greywolf]

Rule 1: No power characters

Rule 2: Be descriptive

Rule 3: Have fun ... or is this rule 1, hmm

 

This is a Tameriel (The world in which Morrowind lies) RPG ... I am the Game Master, what I say goes ... I will not be playing a character, only npcs and creating the setting ... have fun and good luck!

 

Setting: Well, let me see ... ahhhh, Elyswer ... that's as good as anywhere to start ...

 

 

 

The blazing sun bore down upon the sandy dunes of outer Elyswer as it reached its zenith. The heatwaves that floated above the brown landscape made a myrid blend of mirages and colours. Set smack dab in the middle of this wasteland was the settlement of Ras Kell, a sparse collection of buildings sitting on the only water hole for miles. Ras Kell, the outhouse of the world, where all sort of scum that need to lie low for a while could be found. Its most prominent building was the tavern and inside the giant argonian Skaz was lord.

 

He was larger than most argonians, a veritable giant towering at an impressive seven feet four inches. It wasn't just his height though that made him someone not to mess with, but also the broad shoulders and large muscles that played beneath his scaly hide. His favoured weapon was a massive club often used to settle bar room disputes and to end brawls. Besides this powerful appearance, he was also a gracious host who was willing to provide anything for his clients, at a profit of course. Skooma ran like water and moon sugar was passed by the barrel-ful. All manners of drink was available and he even ran a small smithy on the side, besides Skaz there was only a group of smugglers that used this place as a base of operations, everyone else was either passing through, laying low or dead.

 

Today was like any other, drinking, smoking and brawling. Skaz had his hands full for the morning with a band of raiders on there way to the outer imperial colonies. Skaz was glad when they finally left, with a little persuasion. Skaz dumped the body in the back alley and proceed to clean up the dead raider's blood from his floor. He hissed a song to himself, keeping an eye on the moon sugar addicts in the corner and the barbarian orc guzzling beer by the pint at his bar. He wipe the last of the blood up and place the mop and bucket in a corner. The door was open for the passing traveller. The cool tavern was a far cry better then the scorching midday sun. Skaz moved behind the counter and began to wipe it down with a cloth, more out of habit than for cleaning. He awaited to see what sort of riff-raff would come to his establishment today, regulars or more like those raiders.

[Tiel]

Jack looked around the dimly lit tavern. Around the other drunken low-lifes here he should have felt welcome; but the once renouned rouge just wished too drowned his sorrows in some vile liquid the Kajiit had the nerve to call ale'.

 

'Thhiss poison would never do in Wayressst,' he slurred,' try serving this in The Dancing Orc tavern you'd ave a bloodly riot on your hands'

 

No-one took much notice. Jack was half Imperial and half Nord, or so he had been told. As a rouge he had been a legend, he was known all around the north, his usual haunts were in Daggerfall, Wayrest, Solitude and other northern coastal cities. He excelled especilly in the piracy business.

 

How Jack Lethan, the great legend of the criminal world had ended up in this dump was a sad but not unusual story. He was used to falling flat on his face only to pull himself back up again.

 

Right now all that was on his mind was a good fight with some of these filthy Kajiit who he knew were talking about him in there unintelligible language. In a drunken stuper he dozily eyed the other patrons for any sign of provoction...

[ObsidianKnight]

OOC: Is there a sign-up required?

 

Titanius sips at a glass of wine and winces as he swirls the drink around "Da**, the drink IS bad here." He gulps down the rest of it. "Uh, glass of water, bartender." He steps over to Jack. "Hey mate, glad to know someone else thinks the drink is bad here."

[Greywolf]

OOC: No ... no sign ups ... no mess ups (looks at everybody menacingly ... joking) Though please introduce your character's appearance and bring in his appearance elements from time to time so that other's may react, for instance, race, general built, general age is good to know but blend it into you RPing

 

 

Skaz mumbled under his breath about missing the Black Marsh and not having to deal with arrogant customers. He threw the cloth aside and brought the man his water. A brackish excuse for the liquid, but water none the less. He looked around, everyone was pretty quiet, keeping to their own conversations and addictions.

 

A shadow crossed the door, attracting Skaz' attention. The loner was back. The dark figure was hooded in a brown cloak that made him appear to made from the sand outside. He surveyed the room and moved to the bar, his face hidden beneath his hood. Only a square jaw covered in a couple days growth of beard stuck from underneath it. Skaz moved to the bar and poured the strange man his usual beer.

 

Some said the loner was breton, others an imperial and others something else. No one really ever payed much attetion to him. He left them alone, and they were more than happy to leave him alone. Skaz had first seen him come into his establishment three years prior, on the night of the desert storm. Some freakish accident of weather that broke a typhoon of rain on the parched land. He had seen the loner and flowers for the first time in Ras Kell. Since then the loner had been a regular, vanishing from time to time yet always returning. He had only ever spoken to Skaz three times in those three years. The first was to order his now usual drink, the second for legends some forgotten relic and the third to be warned if a blind bosmer with a nix-hound pup ever appeared.

 

The loner sat drinking while Skaz returned to the natural business of wiping the counter top. Soon he poured himself a glass of ale and winced at the own concoction. Skaz was glad that the supplies he ordered would be arriving soon. His stock was getting a little low, not that these low lifes cared what they drank, just as long as they drank.

[Tiel]

Jack was about to reply when he caught a glimple of the dark stranger that had entered the room, he gazed at him for a second, with a brief feeling of recognition before turning back to the stranger who had just spoken to him.

 

' When you're in my business for as long as I have been you gain a good sense of whats safe and what isn't. I can tell you now my friend, I would rather drink a pint of this vile ale than a drop of that water. Beleive me, the reason it looks like its come from the private latrine of our fine host here', he eyed the Argonian,' is because it probably has; stick to the ale friend, its too vile for anything to be living in it, unlike the stagnent water you have there'.

 

Jack finished there because the Argonian looked none too pleased. He rubbed his tired eyes and took off the old cloth he used to tie his hair in a roughy respectable fashion and ran his fingers through his dark, and now rather long, hair. As he did so he again caught the eye of the dark stranger who had entered the tavern. This time he recognised the stranger and his senses came flooding back. He realized he now had to somehow quietly exit the building. He knew that if this man was who Jack thought he was, he would be luckly to leave the tavern alive.

 

He shrunk back towards his new-friend in this backwater cesspit and began idley chatting to Titanius as if they were old friends; always aware of the brooding eyes of the dark stranger burrowing into the back of his head. Never one to be unprepared Jack kept his hand on the hilt of the small but trusty short sword he kept under his jacket...

[Greywolf]

The loner, as everyone called him, eyed the half-breed human with slight recognition. As he sipped his sour beer, he reached back into the recesses of his memories. Though they were a shattered mess, he had been able to piece together shards of his past. He knew his name, his station and who he had been. He knew that it was taken away in one night's massacre and he knew he would avenge that desecration of his life. Yet, everything seemed familiar. He had been through every civilization known, even Stros M'kai.

 

The stranger had removed the cloth from his head, freeing the bound hair to fall in greasy black strands. The loner shifted his weight on the barstool, ignoring the flash of fire in his side. Another drink and it was gone, a wound soon to be another scar ran along his side; it had been an eventful week. The undead were rapidly taking control of their old haunts, ancient tombs and graveyards. Sometimes it was even unsafe on the road. The Elyswer Battle when khajit rebels opposed the Imperial expansion had resulted in countless graves in this desert. It had only been two nights ago that the loner had been challenged by a skeleton warrior; a good one at that.

 

The loner took another drink, he almost could recall who that person was ... it was on the tip of his tongue so to speak. A name came to mind finally, but nothing else, no information just a single word: Jack. The loner rubbed his chin, the hood moving to the side slightly to reveal a white scar down a shallow cheek. In a second the hood was returned and the loner had turned his attention away from Jack to the bar. He raise a hand and Skaz refilled his mug. Softly, almost indiscernable in the rather noisy tavern, he began to hum to himself. A soft lilting song much like a lullaby, the past was dead, the present dieing and the future a grave. The loner stood up, leaving the beer and moved upstairs to the room that was always empty for him. He could feel Skaz watching him and others for that matter, but what did it matter. He stopped halfway up the steps and smiled, he had remembered Jack, but he would leave him for another day. Jack could always die another day, there was no rush.

[I Am That Is Matthias]

A man in a cloak walked into the bar. he walks over to the orc and draws his sword. "I have traced you all over tamriel now you will die!" He then drew his sword which glowed with a strange light. Lighning shot down the blade before the orc could react. It missed but hit the stool which the orc was sitting on and caused burn damage to the orcs bottom. "Oops i missed" Before anybody could blink the stranger cut the orcs throat and shoved him aside. "Bartender ill have some flin."

[ObsidianKnight]

Titanius eyes the loner with his dark brown eyes. He felt as though he had once seen this man.... and wished that he hadn't. There was something about him... a presence of power, or something. Titanius shook his head and washed his mouth out with the water. "Heh, poor orc. What was he wanted for?"

[Tiel]

Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the loner left the tavern. He placed his sword down by his side.

 

Jack did not know the man's name, though he had heard a lot about him. Who he was and where he came from Jack did not know. He had heard men call him a warrior, villian or some mysterious man from far away. Jack fancied he was a collecter of some sort, he always seemed to carry many valuables and artifacts with him. Some years before he had ambushed the man near the coast road of Bhoriane, on the way to the crossing to the Isle of Balfiera, Jack got away with a few nice jewels, but the sword fight he had with him was incredible. In a way the loner earned Jack's respect that day.

 

Jack Lethan, though taken aback with the sudden slaughter of the Orc did not show it.

 

Instead, he eyed the man in the cloak who had killed the Orc. He always looked down on those that killed unarmed men, but then, Jack had no knnowledge of the circumstances.

 

Jack said goodbye to Titanius and got up from the bar. He planned to follow the loner discreetly, smelling a chance of a big profit. As he walked out the bar he turned to the bartender.

 

'Though your ale is not fit for a dog, it smells beter than you. And that is something I am greatful for'

 

And with that Jack lost no time in bidding farewell to the gutter and out into the streets of success, he felt good.

[Sol'Kanar]

-Withdrawn-