The tall tales & tragedies of the Chattering Scroll Inn

[Lisnpuppy]

Kismet watched from a dark corner as they tossed the woman in the cage with no more thought than for days-old garbage. Unnoticed in her leather armor, the color of the cave, the drow's dark lips formed a line of anger at their ill use of the obviously unconscious woman. This woman...or any was worth more that their useless hides.

 

Waiting without moving, almost without breathing the half-Dumner half-Drow began to glide silently toward the cage after the woman was left alone. Once at the cage doors she looked over the lock with curiosity, not in any particular hurry. Kismet scratched her head under her hood, silver flashing for a moment as she muttered darkly about its leather the merchant assured her was the softest in all Tamriel. Deciding there and then to make the Merchant "itch" in ways that would make him scream for death, the Rogue gathered her magic to her.

 

The caged woman suddenly woke, sitting up slowly. Glad to see her unharmed the Rogue sat back on her heels to observe the woman for a moment. Though she felt the woman worth more than those that had dumped her here...she was still an unknown quantity...and surprise was always worth much in a new relationship. Smiling Kismet lit a faerie fire which instantly illuminated the area in an eerie purple glow. Touching the lock and chanting a spell she had known since childhood, she felt and heard the bolt drop.

 

In a low, whiskey-poured voice the Drow spoke to the woman in perfect Imperial Common, "You require some assistance perhaps?"

[SoulofChrysamere]

It seemed that the fighting was over as soon as it had started. Redemin was a bit disappointed, but some target practice was better than none. He leapt down from the tree and casually surveyed the scene. He counted eight trolls down, ten including the two he sniped from the tree, and a body that resembled the old hag he'd seen leading the group. There was something off about the corpse though, but Redemin couldn't tell what.

 

Slowly, he drifted over to the little mudhole where he'd assisted the Nord in downing the club-wielding silhouette. The Nord was still on his knees, and appeared to be divided between wondering who fired the arrow and checking his equipment. Redemin approached carefully...and knelt a few paces away from the barbarian.

 

"Well, hello there." He said in a slightly eerie voice.

[myrmaad]

She had been examining the contents of the room hoping to find her bow, or at least something she could use as a weapon.. there were piles of rubbish and the only thing that seemed weapon-like in the room was a large old bone in one of the piles. It seemed they had also stolen her shoulder belt, with her purse and essentials. She set her jaw and clenched her fist instinctively at the realization.

 

Continuing to peer around her, she stayed perfectly still as she martialed her strength and evaluated her options, but inside her head questions raced through her mind.

 

The stillness was shattered by the click-clatter of pins falling in the chamber, releasing the lock in the gate. Jolted by surprise, every fiber in her being felt as if it were stood on end like the hairs on the back of a hissing cat! She had been peering into the darkness at the gate, and still she hadn't seen anyone.

 

She peered further into the darkness, stiff with fright, instinctively reaching for her dagger, her missing dagger. She heard the low voice but still could not see anyone. She crept down the dirty corridor hugging the stinking shadows of the wall, furtively she picked up the large femur as she moused passed.

 

Approaching the gate, she saw the owner of the voice, a dark and dazzling woman was emerging just beneath the shadows, surely an ancient race rarely seen.

 

The captive woman pushed the gate and it swung free, still clutching the femur but pinned down at her side, the anger rose within her and she pulled her chin up, pushed her shoulders back and in a threatening tone demanded:

 

"Why am I here? Did you see them? Why did you unlock the gate? Which way is out? And most importantly WHERE IS MY BOW?"

[MikeRyan]

After finishing his fifth cirle of the ruins, Michael finaly decided to give up and was just about to change his path when he got a feeling like something was watching him.

 

"Odd, that was an unfamiliar feeling. I think I better return to the inn, im running out of supplies anyways." He then proceded to turn around and head back to the inn

 

When he was back at the inn, he sat down at his usual table and kept an eye on the door, feeling something like an itch that told him someone was going to come in, and started making notes about different things and made some quick sketches long into the night, vigilant as always

[tokyobiohazard]

At that moment, the inn's worn, wooden door swung open on its squeaky, unoiled hinges, the rain whirling in through the dark doorway, the biting chill of the night pouring into the room.

 

A lean and diminutive Bosmer stepped inside, muttering a weak apology in a quiet voice for letting the cold creep inside, "I... couldn't stay out there," she explained nervously, lying her naked katana on the ground before her to signify she meant no harm.

 

She had no cloak to protect her from the harsh elements and carried no pack. Her dripping-wet raven locks flowed down to her hips in a knotted disarray, looking as if they had once been styled elegantly but had since fallen free. Her shockingly bright blue eyes flicked around and rested momentarily on each individual in the inn, as if she were wary of contact with them. She curtsied, lifting her once-ornate black gown as she did so just enough that it revealed she had on no shoes. She then brushed her drenched mane behind a pointed ear, it being so heavy with water that it fell free again.

 

"Trolls and the like," she weakly added, "Sorry if I'm intruding here. It's just... such a violent storm..." She trailed off and nervously hid her pale face behind the tangled veil of her hair, glancing down at her sword on the ground anxiously.

[oldnotweak]

From directly behind her came a voice through the door "ill stay out here, its too warm in there" and then the door shut abruptly. Edited August 9, 2011 by oldnotweak

[iansaltman]

Elludnil walked on in through the door just moments later. He saw a pale figure, similar to himself. He decided to sit down next to her, and hesitated to speak to her. Mainly avoiding any type of connection. Then he stuttered suddenly, "W-w-Whats the name of your sword?"

 

His pale face hidden by wet hair turned flush red, and his rune began to settle its glow. He hesitantly awaited a reply.

[tokyobiohazard]

Elludnil walked on in through the door just moments later. He saw a pale figure, similar to himself. He decided to sit down next to her, and hesitated to speak to her. Mainly avoiding any type of connection. Then he stuttered suddenly, "W-w-Whats the name of your sword?"

 

His pale face hidden by wet hair turned flush red, and his rune began to settle its glow. He hesitantly awaited a reply.

 

Reona shifted her eyes up at the man, the piercing blue orbs flicking back and forth from his hidden face to the softly glowing tattoo on his shirtless chest. She hesitantly reached for her blade and slowly placed it on the table in front of her. She placed a hand on the sword's hilt, white skin contrasting against the deep, mournful black of her sopping wet sleeve, before removing her hand reluctantly so that the Altmer could see it.

 

The blade was a traditional katana, nothing special as far as appearances go. It had a hilt wrapped with black cloth and a crossguard in the shape of a four-pointed star. A few notches marked the blade's edge, evidence of someone blocking edge-on-edge, fairly new from the looks of it, showing that the girl was most likely an inexperienced fighter. There was no sheath.

 

"The sword... she was my older brother's," Reona began, her drying hair still over her face, "He... is gone now. He never told me her name... before he..." the girl choked on her words a little and contimued, "There are some... um... runes... carved into it here.... I can't read them..." Her face turned deep red as she felt the familiar heat of embarrassment at not being able to read.

[iansaltman]

Elludnil walked on in through the door just moments later. He saw a pale figure, similar to himself. He decided to sit down next to her, and hesitated to speak to her. Mainly avoiding any type of connection. Then he stuttered suddenly, "W-w-Whats the name of your sword?"

 

His pale face hidden by wet hair turned flush red, and his rune began to settle its glow. He hesitantly awaited a reply.

 

Reona shifted her eyes up at the man, the piercing blue orbs flicking back and forth from his hidden face to the softly glowing tattoo on his shirtless chest. She hesitantly reached for her blade and slowly placed it on the table in front of her. She placed a hand on the sword's hilt, white skin contrasting against the deep, mournful black of her sopping wet sleeve, before removing her hand reluctantly so that the Altmer could see it.

 

The blade was a traditional katana, nothing special as far as appearances go. It had a hilt wrapped with black cloth and a crossguard in the shape of a four-pointed star. A few notches marked the blade's edge, evidence of someone blocking edge-on-edge, fairly new from the looks of it, showing that the girl was most likely an inexperienced fighter. There was no sheath.

 

 

"The sword... she was my older brother's," Reona began, her drying hair still over her face, "He... is gone now. He never told me her name... before he..." the girl choked on her words a little and contimued, "There are some... um... runes... carved into it here.... I can't read them..." Her face turned deep red as she felt the familiar heat of embarrassment at not being able to read.

 

Ellundil spoke with a softer, more calm face.

 

"Then, I suppose it should be named in proper honour of your brother, seeing as it was his blade afterall,"

 

Ellundil's rune flooded chest began to simmer down to a very soft blue-almost white. He decided to relax further back in his chair, resting his sword on the table. He felt very content with where he was, stirring up something in his mind by the new demeanor he had on his face. After a long silence he decided to speak yet again, feeling the strange urge to ask more questions.

 

"I didn't bother to ask your name, even though it twas not your blade that had drawn me to this corner. Would you grace me with such a name to behold?"

[tokyobiohazard]

A slight smile played at the corners of the girl's lips, "Then she shall become he, and he shall become Arva. As for my name, it is Reona. It means 'reaper' in an ancient language long forgotten by time."

 

She motioned to the window with the slight lift of a finger, and in a voice so light and rapid that only another elf could understand, she mumbled, "The man occasionally peering into the window is my travelling companion. Don't look over at your normal speed, do it very quickly, if you must... He thinks he's inconspicuous, you see."

 

She tugged at the black frill of lace that fringed her sleeves, nervously straightening them as she looked up at the towering Altmer, "What name shall I address you by?"