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Habassa: The RPG


Peregrine

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To All Characters:

It is now three years after the defeat of Dagoth Ur. Peace and normal life have finally returned to Vvardenfell. But rumors of trouble have begun to spread once again. Now free of the Nerevarine's leadership, the Great Houses have resumed their disagreements, at an even greater intensity, as if to make up for the lost time. Though diminished in power, the Tribunal Temple still has strong influence, and its more fanatical members show no sign of conceding defeat. And perhaps even more disturbing are the rumors making their way back from the Imperial Palace. The Emperor's life seems to be nearing its end, and no clear successor can be seen. However, all these rumors are just that. No open conflict has started, and to the average citizen, life is as good as it has been in recent memory.

 

Though things are quiet, there is still no shortage of work to be done. However disorganized they may be without Dagoth Ur's influence, plenty of monsters remain to cause trouble in the wilderness. And on whichever side of the law you choose to exist, there are enough freelance jobs to keep you busy. In this way you have gained some experience in adventuring. You're far from a master of your chosen work, but that goal is finally in sight.

 

In all your adventures, something must have attracted attention, because a few weeks ago, you recieved a strange note: Signed only with an ornate symbol, it told you to come to Balmora for an offer of work. Included were a few gold coins, with the promise of many more if you succeed, and instructions to be at the Eight Plates Inn on 14th Rain's Hand.

 

For whatever reasons of your own, you have decided to at least invesitgate this offer. You arrive in Balmora the night before, just as things are finally settling down for the night. A light rain is falling, and most of the people you can see are heading inside, many to the local inns or bars

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Reylas pushes open the door, letting out a last sigh of joy as he enters the cramped inn. He'd always loved the wilderness, and while some thought rain depressing, Reylas found it relaxing, refreshing. How could rain be depressing? These square buildings, which packed life into such close company were more depressing than any rain. Leaving the hood of his cloak up, Reylas takes a seat in a more empty corner of the inn, and motions for the waitress. While the Eight Plates isn't known for unruly patrons, Reylas flips over the corner of his cloak to reveal a polished dagger. Helps to ward off petty thieves.
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The door to the Eight Plates opens, part opened from the outside, part from a gust of wind. Corithalion, a breton, enters, the collar of his robe pulled tight around him, turns around, and forces the door closed. Taking coins from his purse, he walks to the bar and gets some bread and wine. He goes to a table, carefully unslinging a lute from his back, more concerned about making sure it is dry than his face and hair. It has been a long trip, and the rain that started just before he left followed him all of the way. This is the right place, tomorrow is the right day. Is the one responsible for the offer here? he thinks to himself. As he plucks each string, making sure that all is well, he looks around. Who here had sent him the note? Was he the only one who had been sent this offer? He carefully sizes up each of the people currently in the room, all of the time trying to look as innocuous as possible.
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Elbras walks along the familiar streets of Balmora, and finally reaches the Eight Plates, quite wet from the rain.

 

He walks inside, closing the door behind him, wearing his normal clothing, with a sack on his back with various supplies inside (including his armour), but still has Seler by his side nonetheless.

 

He lugs the sack down at the table and walks up to the

bartender. He puts a few coins on the counter and orders some Shein, then proceeds to sit back down at his table.

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Kyrykki, immune to the effects of alcohol, rarely enters such houses of ill repute. But he is very willing to be busy and the offer is tempting. He enters, orders flin from the barkeep and sits alone. He carefully places the letter on the table in front of him so that anyone interested can see the seal. He all but closes his eyes - drunken, sleepy Nords are the stereotypes in Vvardenfell - but he is very much alert.
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<ooc: Did you even bother reading the title? Especially the part that says "post only if you have signed up". Which you haven't, I don't have character stats, how you fit into the story, etc. If you want to join, read and post in the "sign up for new rpg" thread and get my approval before posting here!>
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