Tangled Webs - An Elder Scrolls RP

[darkedge42392]

And so starts the Tangle Webs roleplay thread!

 

All OCC and character sheets should be posted http://forums.nexusmods.com/index.php?/topic/2475529-tangled-webs-an-elder-scrolls-rp-discussion/ here.

[darkedge42392]

Varys Sul, Daggerfall, High Rock

 

Varys stood in the shadows of the makeshift conference room, his bright red eyes reflecting the lightning as it flashed through the closed windows. He was silently watching the meeting before him, studying the craggy faces of the old men as they quietly conversed. The room was small, and lit with only a few candles. The steady beat of the rain against the roof above was a calming lull for his racing mind.

 

It had been a fortnight since they had arrived in Daggerfall, and nearly a month's travel before that since receiving the summons. He was glad they had finally arrived. A letter had arrived from a noble of Daggerfall, asking to see Varys' mentor, a renowned adventurer in his own time named Adrynn Indarys. The grizzled old mer had not wanted to go, tossing aside the letter as soon as he read it. Varys had read it himself, and insisted that his mentor heed the summons. After a lengthy conversation, which involved many angry scowls from Adrynn, the old Redoran had finally agreed to go. Now, here they were on the other side of Tamriel in a nondescript tavern, talking to the man who had sent the letter and summoned them.

 

"So tell me again, Breton, why did you drag me across Tamriel again? Because the locals are having bad dreams?" Adrynn asked, his weathered face set in his customary hard scowl. "Why haven't you asked someone a little closer to home to take a look instead?"

 

The aged Breton noble, Sir Michel Hawkford of House Direnni sighed and ran his fingers through his long beard. He hadn't expected the stories of how blunt this Dunmer was to be true.

 

"The court has, Serjo," Sir Michel said, using the Dunmeri formal name, "but what the court has found is something that is a little, well, out of our reach. We were hoping you would be willing to take a look into these matters on behalf of the High King."

 

Varys watched the muscle in Adrynn's jaw tighten. He knew well what was on the old Dunmer's mind. "Well then, tell me what you have found, Breton, so that I can give you my answer," Adrynn said sharply. Varys already knew what the answer was just in how Adrynn's body sat, in the tight strain of the fabric over the old mer's broad shoulders and the stiffness of his back.

 

"The court has found this problem to be . . . Daedric in origin. We suspect that the Mistress of Nightmares is involved," Sir Michel said, a look of disgust on his face. "And, with your knowledge on the Daedra, we were hoping you might be able to advise us on a course of action to solve this dilemma so we can all get back to our lives.

 

Varys shifted his gaze to the old Breton noble, taking in the deep circles under his eyes. It was obvious he was exhausted. He glanced back to Adrynn, waiting for the inevitable answer.

 

"Vaermina," Adrynn said, spitting out the word. "I know her well. But what can I tell you that someone else here would not know?"

 

"With your experience during the Oblivion Crisis and after it, it would help in any way," Sir Michel said, grimly.

 

Varys watched the veins in Adrynn's forehead stand out. Similar thoughts were going flying through Varys's mind. The Skull of Corruption.

 

"The only artifact that I know of that Vaermina uses to such effect is her Skull of Corruption. But from what I understand, it was cleansed from Nirn during the Stormcloak Rebellion several decades ago in Skyrim," Adrynn said.

 

"Is it possible it has returned?" Sir Michel asked, going over questions asked dozens of times already in his mind.

 

"Possible? Of course," Adrynn said, stroking his salt and pepper beard. He then shook his head. "But probable? No. Not yet at least. It takes several decades for an Artifact of that power to reappear in Nirn after being cleansed as it was."

 

Sir Michel slumped in his chair, a defeated look on his face. "Yes, that is what our own people have told us. If not the Skull of Corruption, then what would be releasing Vaermina's terrors upon us?"

 

Adrynn bowed his head in thought, a perplexed look on his face. "I do not know, Breton. But I cannot hunt for this item of Vaermina's. My adventuring days are behind me."

 

Sir Michel hid his disappointment as well as he could. It was only to be expected, considering the life the mer before him had led. Varys shifted uncomfortably in the shadows before stepping forward into the light. His coppery hair was pulled back out of his face, and his dark ashen skin absorbed the candlelight.

 

"I will take up the hunt for you, Ser Michel," Varys said, his voice low and quiet. "Just tell me where to start."

[Zephyr2011]

Baltis Arendus, Daggerfall, High Rock

 

Baltis perused a market stall, despite the rain there were still several shoppers and all of the vendors were hanging about. A rather disgruntled Breton stood on the far side of the table lined with a variety of jewelry. The gems and baubles were all within cases, but the Breton himself neglected to grab a hooded cloak before leaving his home earlier in the day and a steady drip taunted the tip of his nose from his cap. Baltis himself had his wolf skin cloak's hood pulled over his head and was enjoying the opportunities the rain provided.

 

With the lately cool temperatures and the rain, the Breton was shivering vigorously. Baltis struck up a conversation with him about the pieces which seemed only to disgruntle him further as he rued the weather and longed for the opportunity to close up shop. After ten minutes Baltis had sized up his mark. The man was agitated with the weather and agitated that he had a customer so he had to stay. His eyes barely showed any light when Baltis was bringing up the pieces he knew to be the most expensive at the kiosk. Arendus got the most reaction when he brought up a jet inlaid necklace made of brilliant silver.

 

The Dark Elf smirked internally. The jeweler would easily be caught up with the sale of this expensive piece, it was incredibly valuable and had sat stagnant for a long time, despite being in a place of prominence on the table. Baltis haggled a little and got the price to a slightly less exorbitant mark up before finishing the deal and thanking the shopkeeper. The merchant handled the coin quickly, but fumbled multiple times, clear evidence of his cold hands. Baltis took the offered box for his new purchase and bid the Breton fair well.

 

Arendus, ducked into a nearby tavern before he pulled out the two rings and amulet that he had managed to swipe during the transaction from his sleeve. The Breton was so concerned with the one piece, he failed to noticed the lesser ones disappearing. Overall he a little more than doubled his "investment." He could easily find a fence or someone from out of town to peddle the jewels to, he'd keep the purchased piece for himself. With the Breton's discomfort, he was unlikely to take stock today when he closed up, and would never connect the purchaser of his finest piece with the theft.

 

Baltis lowered his hood, approached the bar and ordered a bottle of fire whiskey to get the chill out.

[AurianaValoria1]

Katarin Maelle, Daggerfall, High Rock

 

Damn these cobblestones and damn this thrice-cursed rain and damn this cold...

 

Katarin nearly slipped down for the third time on the smooth cobbles of Daggerfall's streets, made slick as oil by the steady rain that pelted her in a constant icy drizzle. The Breton spotted the lazy smoke rising from the chimney of a nearby tavern as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and she thanked Akatosh for her luck. Pulling her blue cloak tighter about her shoulders and shaking the excess water from her hood, she quickened her pace and headed straight for the tavern door...

 

One foot hit a cobble just right, and it flew upwards, throwing her off balance and landing her squarely on her rump in the middle of the street faster than she could react. Her golden elven armor cushioned her fall some, but not nearly enough.

 

"DAMMIT!" she cursed, splashing one gloved hand in a mud puddle. Her hood had fallen back, and now her head was wet, the cold rain plastering her sandy-blonde hair to her face.

 

Growling, she got up and resumed her march to the inn door - thankfully with no more slips. She forcefully opened it, hard enough to nearly tear it off its hinges, and stormed inside, dripping water all over the floor as she let it slam shut behind her. She shrugged off her cloak and left it on the stand by the door, the soaked fabric draining rainwater into a puddle underneath it. The Breton huffed in frustration as she then pushed locks of wet hair back behind her ears and motioned for a waitress. The heavyset woman who responded to her call took her order for a bowl of hot stew and a mug of ale before quickly hurrying off to relay the request to the cook. Katarin herself, meanwhile, found a seat in the back of the tavern where she could sulk in peace.

[SoulofChrysamere]

Mjaska Red-Feather: Daggerfall, High Rock

 

 

Mjaska gazed absentmindedly out the back of the leaky Daggerfall-bound wagon. Her hooded wool travel cloak thankfully spared her from most of the cold, but the occasional gust still managed to chill her face. Turning her face from the opening was the obvious solution, but Mjaska found the broody weather and soaked countryside more interesting than her fellow passengers. The cracks of thunder were the only respites from their banter. Further back on her side sat a small, lanky, pipsqueak of a Breton carrying on a bawdy, drunkenly slurred conversation with the man across from him. Across from Mjaska sat a silent figure swathed in a hooded robe that barely showed its wearer's lips and chin. In the middle of the floor, there lay sprawled out another Breton working on his third flask of beer. While she preferred to watch the skies weep from the coziness of an inn room, Mjaska still found it a better traveling companion than the usual rabble of wayfarers.

 

Time seemed to crawl as the wagon slowly kept making its way toward the kingdom's namesake, and Mjaska's patience with the two perverts withered a little bit more with each creak of the wheels. Were it not for the timely announcement from the driver that Daggerfall City was fast approaching, she might have eventually given the pair a couple of toothless mouths to discuss. When the wagon finally came to a stop just before the city's main gate, Mjaska eagerly disembarked and began putting distance between herself and the others.

 

Daggerfall's smooth cobblestone roads were a challenge for even the most surefooted of goers when wet, and Mjaska was reduced to slow, careful steps to avoid hitting the ground. After a short while wandering the streets, Mjaska spied the smoke from an unassuming tavern. Thank the gods...I hate being out in the rain. Mjaska picked up her pace slightly, and managed to nearly make it to the tavern's door before finally finding a cobble a tad too slick to manage. She managed to keep from falling backward, but she overcorrected and barreled into the wall right beside the door. "Son of a netch..." Mjaska crankily muttered as she stood back up.

 

The Nord flung open the tavern door and immediately headed for one of the tables at the back. She lowered her hood, took off her helmet, and shed the cloak, draping it on the back of her chair before sitting down and leaning onto the table. The dull glints of her armor caught the eyes of several patrons, one of which evidently had a belly full of liquid courage and a thing for women in combat gear. No sooner had Mjaska signaled for a waitress and ordered a rather large helping of venison, grilled vegetables, and ale, did a young, heavily inebriated man appear before her.

 

"Well now, who might you be?" The boy began, muddling the words worse than the two sots in the wagon.

 

"Someone who's tired, hungry, and not looking for company in bed." Mjaska retored bluntly. She could see his eyes taking in her features and his carnal smile.

 

"Aww, why not? Surely you'd be wanting all the heat you could get after walking through that crummy weather." The man continued, obviously unable to recognize an unveiled rejection.

 

Urgh...why do men always think that "No." means "Keep trying?" "I think a warm meal and a blanket will do just fine." Mjaska replied.

 

The man committed his next mistake by bravely running his hand up one of Mjaska's mailed arms. "C'mon now, someone like you? The life of a warrior must get awfully stressful sometimes..." He persisted, changing tactics.

 

"I said no, Breton. Twice." Mjaska said, slightly raising her voice and shrugging off his hand.

 

Still not convinced of his mission's futility, the boy stood and walked around behind Mjaska, who was about ready to employ a more physical means of communication. "You're hard-shelled, ain't ya? I bet there's a real nice lady underneath, though. Besides...I like them tough." He said, unfortunately attempting to rub Mjaska's cheek afterward.

 

Sick of the boy's bullheadedness, Mjaska grabbed is wrist and rose, causing him to gasp at the sudden pain. Mjaska then spun him around, gripped the back of his shirt with one hand while hooking the other between his legs, and hurled him into the middle of the room. The boy caught a table with his head along the way, and he took his time in getting up.

 

"I trust that'll serve as an answer for everyone else as well?" Mjaska asked rhetorically. Satisfied she had made her point, she returned to her seat and leaned back, staring into the wooden table's burls. Hurry up with that food. I'm starving.

=====================================================

 

Tadrinas Canderrus: Daggerfall, High Rock

 

 

Ah, nature...you can be so helpful to us thieving types, but you can be such a drag sometimes.

 

Tadrinas sighed with relief as he beheld the strong stonework edifice that was Daggerfall's main gate. After boarding his horse at the stable, he hurried into town, eager to escape the chilling rain. It had been a dismal ride to town with his only companions being the pelting raindrops and the rumbling thunder. He was keen on seeing what kind of trouble there was to stir up around the city, but he didn't mind putting that off for one more day. Shelter from the weather was what he wanted presently.

 

He ambled down one of the streets, quickly learning to not hurry on the wet cobblestone. Before long, he came across a fairly rough-looking tavern that seemed as good a place as any to escape the elements. Tadrinas managed to stay vertical as he approached the tavern's door, and he nonchalantly entered the establishment. He quickly saw it was the typical working man's watering hole. Most of the clientele were in cheap, laborer's duds with dirt and other stuff speckling their arms and legs. The young Bosmer strode over to one of the back tables. He took off his cloak and hung it over the back of the chair, then sat down and propped his feet up on the table.

 

After ordering a big bowl of stew and some beer, Tadrinas relaxed and watched the other folks' antics. The armored women seemed a little out of place to him - especially the one wearing Elven armor. He'd only seen the material a few times. The short-haired woman digging into a slab of venison appeared more intriguing though, sitting there somberly with her Dwemeri mail giving off a unique, bronze-like glow. Since he was in the mood for meeting new people, the elf relocated to a table beside Mjaska, who glanced at him an annoyed look.

 

"You look like you've had a long ride down here...Nord?" Tadrinas said, guessing from her stature. He was unaware of how well the previous guy had fared.

 

"Longer than I care to discuss, Wood Elf." Mjaska answered dismissively in between bites, wishing to be left alone with her food.

 

"Yeah? Horseback or carriage? I was alone on the road, and it's easier to pass the time when there's someone to talk to." Tadrinas said.

 

"Except when said 'carriage' was filled with only the drunk and shady." Mjaska replied.

 

"Ah, so you got one of those rolling drunk tanks. Complete with the leaky roof?" Tadrinas asked.

 

"Aye, elf." Mjaska said, still holding out hope he would leave.

 

"I've seen a few of those. Never been in one since I've got my own horse, but I imagine it's a lot like being in a Bruma tavern. You can catch a buzz just smelling a Nord's breath up there." Tadrinas joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

 

Mjaska couldn't help smirking despite herself. "Sounds like Riften, then. We even had a little joke to remember when at a tavern."

 

"Yeah? What would that be?" Tadrinas asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

"If a man has one tankard, kissing him will get you buzzed. If two, tipsy. If three, drunk. If four, floor." Mjaska said.

 

Tadrinas let out a hearty laugh. Mjaska grinned, pleasantly surprised by the Bosmer's subject matter.

 

"So, you're from Bruma, huh? I've never been to Cyrodiil." She inquired.

 

"Yeah. It's probably a lot like the other side of the Jeralls. Cold as hell and only two colors - white and gray. If I remember the maps I've seen correctly, Riften's down in Skyrim's southeast. I'd love to see its forests some day." Tadrinas answered.

 

"Heh. Seems to me like you've gone the wrong way then, elf." Mjaska said.

 

"Yeah, well...I had always wanted to see western Cyrodiil's forests too. Figured I might as well keep heading east. Also, the name's Tadrinas. Tadrinas Canderrus." Tadrinas said. "Oh, hey, I'm over here, waitress!" He called, seeing the confused woman standing at his old table.

 

"Mjaska Red-Feather. Went all over Skyrim before coming to High Rock." Mjaska said.

 

"'Red-Feather' huh? You got a feather you stick in your hair sometimes?" Tadrinas asked jokingly between bites of stew.

 

"Heh, no. You ever heard of the Forsworn? Also known as the Reachmen?" Mjaska asked.

 

"No, can't say I have." Tadrinas replied.

 

"Pray you never do, then. They're among the scariest people I've done battle against. I did find one coward hiding in a tent during one fight, though. He threw a red bird at me before I put him down. Had to pick a feather out of my teeth. Later that night, the other mercs I was with started calling me Red-Feather, and it stuck." Mjaska explained.

 

"Hah...thats funny. I figured all that gear wasn't just for show, judging by that mark on your chin." Tadrinas said.

 

"Nope. I've been in a scrape or two." Mjaska said, wiping her chin.

 

"So...how've the locals been treating you? They seem like a mostly uncouth bunch." Tadrinas asked.

 

"They haven't, for the most part. I did have one runt try to charm his way into my greaves, but he was about a hundred too many beers past it." Mjaska answered.

 

"Yeah? Sounds like he found the floor a little differently." Tadrinas quipped.

 

"Just a bit. He was well on his way there, but I helped him along." Mjaska said.

 

The two continued carrying on for a while as they enjoyed their meals. While the rain wasn't getting any lighter, the tavern's fires thankfully stayed roaring.

Edited January 18, 2015 by SoulofChrysamere

[darkedge42392]

Varys Sul, Daggerfall, High Rock

 

After handing over all he had on the subject, along with a hefty starting sum of gold for the trouble, Sir Michel bid the two Dunmer farewell with a small bow and departed. Varys watched him go and suddenly wondered why he had agreed to take up the quest in the first place. He shook his head and glanced at Adrynn, who's weathered face was thoughtful behind his steepled fingers.

 

"That was unexpected, though not surprising," Adrynn chuckled, his deep voice a comfort to the young Redoran. The older Dunmer sat back in his chair and gave him a long look. Varys shifted his weight from leg to leg, unsure of what to say.

 

"Do you think I acted in haste?" Varys asked Adrynn, his brow creasing into a hard frown.

 

"I think that it's up to you to see this little adventure through now, Varys," Adrynn said, standing up and running his fingers through his grey streaked black hair. The heavy red robes that the old Dunmer wore draped around his tall frame as he stood to his full height. "But come, let us think on these matters later. I'm hungry."

 

Varys nodded and wrapped his heavy black wolfskin cloak around his lean frame, covering the Gah-Julan Bonemold armor for the most part. His weapons he had unfortunately had to surrender to the innkeeper before they were allowed to stay here, though he was glad for it. He didn't like lugging around the long spear he used for battle indoors. Especially in these small western buildings.

 

Varys followed Adrynn downstairs into the main part of the tavern, keeping an ever watchful eye on the old Dunmer. His limp was getting worse, especially during these rainy days. Even though Adrynn would wave off any concern Varys showed about him, the young Redoran Guard did care for the grizzled old veteran. He was like a true father figure to him, even more so than his own father had been, who had only been concerned about politics among the Great Houses.

 

They passed by several tables full of drunken Bretons, various adventurers, and the hardened workfolk of Daggerfall before finally finding a somewhat secluded table for themselves in the back. Varys sat with his back against the wall, draping his long cloak over the back of his chair. As the maid took their orders, he scanned the crowded tavern, and he noticed several of the adventurers he had taken note of earlier were situated close by. A tall Nord woman was merrily chattering with a lean Bosmer, apparently discussing about themselves. Meanwhile a sour looking Breton with soaked blond hair was quietly gazing out into the crowd herself, her face a warning against approaching. He nodded to her, while the maid returned with his and Adrynn's food.

 

"Ah, hearty Breton food," the old Redoran said contentedly, digging into his stew of beef and vegetables. Varys allowed himself a smile. If there was one thing that could make the grouchy old Dunmer smile, it was food. Varys himself tucked into his bowl of stew of clams and pork in a thick broth. He had always loved clam stews, though he thought this might be the best he had tasted. Not surprisingly, considering how close the ocean was to the city.

 

While enjoying his food, Varys noticed a tall and burly Nord, obviously already drunk, stumble into the tavern with several of his friends, laughing at some joke one had told.

 

"Oi! Wench! Get me and my fellows here some mead!" the Nord yelled from the middle of the room. Several heads turned to the Nord before conversation went on as normal. One of the tavern maids shuffled the bunch of Nords to a table in a corner and took their orders. Varys finished his food, keeping an eye on the group of Nords in case they decided to cause trouble.

 

"Well Varys, how are you going to go about your little adventure?" Adrynn asked quietly, as he sipped on his wine. Varys turned his attention back to Adrynn.

 

"I'm going to go to where the nightmares are the worst, find the culprit, and either destroy it or get it taken to where it can be," he said simply.

 

Adrynn nodded. "Sounds like a simple enough plan. I hope it goes well for you."

 

"So you won't come with me, Adrynn?" Varys asked, despite knowing the answer already.

 

The old Dunmer shook his head. "I told you when we left, that I would come with you only as far as here. Now it is up to you. You wanted an adventure so badly, so now it's up to you to get things going. I will help you as I can, but as I've said, my adventuring days are long behind me."

 

Varys nodded, somewhat sadly. "Well, I'm sure something will happen-" he started.

 

A sudden scream of outrage went up from the corner of the building. Varys' head snapped toward the sound. The drunken Nord had one of the serving maids in his meaty hands, his hands around her throat. His face was red with fury, his eyes bloodshot from his mead.

 

"Ye stupid bloody wench! I told you I wanted steak, not this sliver of pork! I'll make you learn!" he yelled, while the maid clawed at his arms to let her go. Her face was slowly turning blue while she gasped for air.

 

Before he knew it, Varys was across the room, leaping over tables and sending plates flying, his fury so great he couldn't think except for one phrase. I'm going to kill him.

 

"Let her go, Nord!" Varys snapped, running forward and snapping a heavy kick into the side of the Nord's knee, sending him to the ground with a cry of pain and anger. Varys then elbowed into the inside of the Nord's arm at the joint, buckling it and releasing the serving girl, while grabbing the wrist of the same arm and a fistful of the Nord's greasy blond hair. He slammed the Nord's face into the side of the table as hard as he could, hearing the satisfactory crunch of wood on bone. He did it one more time for good measure, before kicking aside stunned and bloody Nord.

 

He went to help up the serving girl who's face was slowly returning to a natural color before he felt hands snatching at his armor and the roar of anger behind him. He had forgotten about the drunkards companions.

 

Well, this is going to hurt, Varys thought quickly before he was spun around and had a large fist slam into his face. He stumbled back and knocked over a few tables, before he stood up again and took stock of the four Nords who faced him.

 

He spit out a bit of blood from his busted lip and grinned. Oh how he loved the challenge of a fight.

[SoulofChrysamere]

Mjaska Red-Feather & Tadrinas: Daggerfall, High Rock - Tavern

 

 

Mjaska and Tadrinas briefly observed the pair of Dunmer that had entered from the back of the tavern before resuming their talk. They weren't an everyday sight, but Mjaska figured them no less outlandish than herself.

 

The pair had seen and heard the Nordic sailors' raucous entrance, and both instantly became wary of the group's presence. Mjaska knew all too well how much trouble drunk Nords could cause, and Tadrinas did as well from his experiences in Bruma's taverns. When one of them had gotten mean and began choking the waitress, both had started to rise. They were slowed by the flash of blue and dull yellow that had bounded over their tables, scattering the remants of their meals, but they soon stood and took off their weaponry before approaching the building fray. They reached the Nords not long after the Dunmer had managed to save the poor waitress and take a fist to his face for his trouble.

 

"'Ey, meatheads! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?!" Mjaska bellowed, hoping to distract at least a couple of the four Nords from the elf.

 

"Or how 'bout me? Surely y'all could wallop a scrawny little Wood Elf!" Tadrinas taunted.

 

One of the sailors accepted Mjaska's proposition and came toward's the woman's face with a wild haymaker. Mjaska blocked the swing with one arm while sending the other's fist into the man's jaw, knocking a tooth loose and sending him stumbling through furniture into the middle of the tavern.

 

Another of the Nords sought to prove Tadrinas right and came toward him with all the lumbering recklessness that was to be expected of a soused Nord. The Nord took a couple of wild punches at Tadrinas, but the small elf ducked under them and brought his arm up into the brute's groin. As he bent over in pain, Tadrinas seized his head by its long, blonde locks and brought a knee into his nose. The Nord stumbled backward, falling onto a table.

 

Mjaska was able to shrug off most of her guy's blows as she only lacked her helmet. However, she had plenty of drink in her as well, and she overstepped one punch only to have the man dodge and deck her right in the nose. Mjaska reeled and tripped onto a rickety table that seemed barely able to support its lone diner's dinner. The table collasped under the lass's weight, and she found herself trying to scramble to her feet.

 

Meanwhile, Tadrinas had been more or less having a sort of graceless dance with his sailor, skipping away from the man's careless blows before ducking back in and delivering a few quick counter punches that were unfortuately not quite enough to stun his larger opponent. Then, the Nord managed to get a hold of Tadrinas after an ill-timed punch from the latter and hurled him across the room. The small Bosmer managed to avoid hitting any tables as he flew, but after hitting the floor hard, he was dragged to his feet by a drunk Breton happy for an excuse to brawl and punched in the ribs. Tadrinas felt his breath leave him, but scarcely had time to recover before taking a blow to his cheek and sprawling into the counter.

 

It seemed that the number of combatants in this bar fight was beginning to grow.

Edited January 19, 2015 by SoulofChrysamere

[AurianaValoria1]

Katarin Maelle, Daggerfall, High Rock - Tavern

 

Katarin had been keeping her cool quite well...until one of the nasty Nord's bloody teeth landed squarely in her bowl of stew with an unceremonious plop, followed quickly by a Nord woman who came crashing right through her table. Fed up with the events of the day, the petite Breton leaped over the fallen Nord, a pair of ghostly purple blades forming in her hands. With a wave of one arm, she called a magical ally to her side, and it appeared before her in a flash of blue...

 

...unfortunately, in her rage, Katarin had summoned a mountain lion familiar instead of the intended wolf.

 

Nevertheless, the translucent blue animal would serve her purpose. The magic cat gave an echoing roar, and Katarin shouted over the din of the brawl.

 

"All right, that's IT! The next person who moves gets panther teeth in their ass and a sword in their gut!"

[darkedge42392]

Varys Sul, Daggerfall, High Rock - Tavern

 

Varys laughed in an adrenaline fueled high. The large Nord lass and her skinny Bosmer companion had joined the fray to help even the odds, and for the most part they were. Though now the whole tavern was going at it, with plates flying and bottles of ale being used as weapons. The sulking Breton he had noticed earlier had lost her cool and summoned a mountain lion and two swords. Though her cry for peace was quickly met with more fighting.

 

Varys jumped to help the Bosmer, his dark hands finding purchase on the drunk Breton who had accosted the Wood Elf, slinging him face first into the wall. He turned and noticed Adrynn had made his way to the bar, gently shoving more people into the fight, a laugh on his lips as he sipped his wine. Varys dove back into the fray, kicking and shoving his way to where the serving wench had gone down, and noticed she had managed to hole herself into the corner, away from most of the brawling. Her eyes were like saucer plates, they were so wide with fear.

 

"Don't worry, sera, this will be over before you know it," he said with a small wink, before turning back and getting a face full of fist again from one of the Nord sailors who just refused to go down.

 

"I'll have yer head you stinking gray-skin!" the Nord bellowed, his breath stinking of alcohol. Varys did the only logical thing in reply of course. He punched the Nord right in the throat with a sharp jab, silencing his opponent's curses, before planting his boot firmly into the Nord's ribs.

 

He laughed again. Oh how he loved to fight.

[Zephyr2011]

Baltis Arendus, Daggerfall, High Rock - Tavern

While Baltis was enjoying his fire whiskey, he noticed a pair of dark elves emerge from the back of the Tavern. He barely caught a glimpse of bonemold.

 

Could that be? Eh, highly unlikely. I doubt that old man's alive, let alone fit to travel

 

Baltis struck up a conversation with the bartender, discussing recent events in the city. He had only been here a few days so any information was valuable. They shifted from small talk to more personal matters, the bartender was a native son of Daggerfall, came from next to nothing to own the place. He tried to take good care of his employees, but it was hard, this wasn't a high class place, it couldn't afford to be. The crowds got rough and tumble on a regular basis. One of his maids had a young daughter and could barely feed her, but the tavern owner couldn't afford to pay her much more, he just didn't have the means.

 

It wasn't much longer when the trouble in the corner started with the Nords and the barmaid, the very same barmaid who had the young girl. Filthy curr. Baltis thumbed his dagger hilt and started to rise when the younger of his fellow Dunmer flew at the Nord and rescued the waitress. With his main concern taken care of, Baltis turned back to the bartender.

 

"Such is the way of things. Weak wills and large muscles with drink. Never a particularly savory combination. Your server is safe though." Baltis commented as one might comment on the weather.

 

"But my bar!"

 

"Oh don't worry, this will sort itself out." Baltis smiled.

 

Around this time a Bosmer slid across the counter and nearly destroyed Baltis's whiskey. Baltis sighed.

 

"Hello friend." He said. Baltis knocked back a shot of fire whiskey, poured another and forced it into the wood elf's hand, "For you" he smirked before rising from his seat.

 

Baltis tossed his cloak to the bartender bidding him to take care of it. Baltis pulled his black leather gauntlets from their place behind his back with his belt and pulled them on as he headed towards the maid. He had a bad feeling all of a sudden.

 

The thief was a blur, his years of darting past guards and would be victims made him incredibly agile. He didn't care much for the other combatants, all that mattered was keeping the mother safe. On his way, a Nord spat at him, "Filthy grey skin!" he bellowed and drunkenly charged at Baltis. His smirk vanished with the remark. Baltis ducked a wild hook and buried his own left fist in the Nord's gut before holding his right hand straight and striking the side of the larger man's neck. As the Nord dropped, Baltis darted beneath his former opponent. A man grabbed at him at one point and tore some of his finery, revealing a bit of the dark armor underneath. Arendus continued to dodge and counterattack as necessary as he crossed the rest of the bar to the mother.

 

The Nord who had tried to strangle the server had come to and was crawling towards a steak knife near the maid, her eyes filled with terror. She kept trying to back up further into the corner, but to no avail. Just as the Nord's fingers began to grasp the knife's handle a sleek steel dagger whistled through the air and nailed his hand to the floor. The Nord screamed in agony as Baltis stepped up to him. "Was I supposed to leave that at the door? Oops." The Dunmer smirked. "Oh, did you want this? I'm sorry, here, take it." The smirk was replaced by a snarl as Baltis wrenched his dagger from the Nord's hand, grabbed the knife and plunged it into the Nord's wrist all in the same motion. Arendus wiped the blood off of his dagger on the Nord's tunic before he rose again.

 

Baltis then walked towards the maid, who was even more terrified. "It's alright, no one will hurt you now. You're safe." He came closer and pressed something into her hand, "When this is all over, take it to the jeweler in the 3rd district, he's fair, these others are cheap and miserly. Don't take less than 700 drakes for it, take care of your girl and see to it that the tavern owner gets some of it to repair this mess." Baltis turned his back to her and engaged one of the other Nords who had harassed her.