The tall tales & tragedies of the Chattering Scroll Inn

[AurianaValoria1]

Reona glanced upward upon hearing hooves stamp the ground in the distance, her hand instinctively swiping her sword from the ground and her body feeling the edgy adrenaline rush that coursed through her veins whenever a stranger neared. Her eyes flicked to her Altmer friend lying on the his belly, his breathing erratic and disturbed; the wound was still bleeding, despite the stitches. He would bleed out soon, Reona guessed, feeling a twinge of sadness.

 

A female voice broke the silence, making the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She brushed her fringe of raven hair behind her pointed ear and gazed upward, her eyes meeting a hooded figure on a black steed. The person's hood fell away, and a regal, kindly woman gazed back at her with a concerned expression, her hair like liquid fire in the harsh wind.

 

Reona stood and curtsied, her body still feeling tensed and twitching with pent-up adrenaline, ready to spring at the woman if need be. She glanced up and reflexively said, unintentionally sounding a bit venomous, "Greetings, fellow elf. I sincerely hope that you do not also wish to harm my friend here, for I fear he cannot endure much more. He shall likely be gone within a few hours, I suspect. I shall, however, defend him with my life until his dying breath."

 

Rhaine slowed her snorting stallion, sliding from his saddle with ease. Her silvery armor shimmered as she moved, the light reflecting brilliantly off of the intricately embossed and engraved plates. She smiled warmly at the elf, and held her hands up and away from the fearsome sword at her side. She approached slowly, glancing at the mutilated corpses at her feet before letting her emerald gaze fall briefly upon the prone Altmer.

 

"Easy, little one. I mean you no harm," she said in a soft, smooth voice, looking directly into the Bosmer's brilliantly blue eyes, "I'm here to help you, if you will let me."

 

She gestured to the gravely wounded Altmer, "May I?"

Edited August 13, 2011 by AurianaValoria1

[tokyobiohazard]

Rhaine slowed her snorting stallion, sliding from his saddle with ease. Her silvery armor shimmered as she moved, the light reflecting brilliantly off of the intricately embossed and engraved plates. She smiled warmly at the elf, and held her hands up and away from the fearsome sword at her side. She approached slowly, glancing at the mutilated corpses at her feet before letting her emerald gaze fall briefly upon the prone Altmer.

 

"Easy, little one. I mean you no harm," she said in a soft, smooth voice, looking directly into the Bosmer's brilliantly blue eyes, "I'm here to help you, if you will let me."

 

She gestured to the gravely wounded Altmer, "May I?"

 

Reona's eyes wandered suspiciously over the brilliantly-garbed stranger, wondering at what someone so regal was doing on this road and what she would gain by helping them, going through multiple scenarios in her head with elven speed. She shoved the thoughts away quickly, blinking twice to make herself focus on the woman in front of her.

 

Silently cursing herself for becoming dazzled so easily, she glanced over at her friend, then nodded solemnly. She knelt by her friend's side, upset by his broken appearance. His bone-white hair was bathed in crimson, his eyes flickering under closed lids as if he were trying to find consciousness.

 

She felt a lump in her throat as she noticed her hands were covered in blood, both the bandit's and the Altmer's.

[AurianaValoria1]

Reona's eyes wandered suspiciously over the brilliantly-garbed stranger, wondering at what someone so regal was doing on this road and what she would gain by helping them, going through multiple scenarios in her head with elven speed. She shoved the thoughts away quickly, blinking twice to make herself focus on the woman in front of her.

 

Silently cursing herself for becoming dazzled so easily, she glanced over at her friend, then nodded solemnly. She knelt by her friend's side, upset by his broken appearance. His bone-white hair was bathed in crimson, his eyes flickering under closed lids as if he were trying to find consciousness.

 

She felt a lump in her throat as she noticed her hands were covered in blood, both the bandit's and the Altmer's.

 

Rhaine moved to the other side of the Altmer, opposite the Bosmer, and slowly knelt. Her cloak fell to one side, revealing her raven-black wings neatly folded upon her back. She ignored the feel of the Bosmer's stare as she gingerly turned the wounded elf on his side. She carefully slipped a gauntleted hand under his cheek, gently lifting his head to keep his windpipe clear.

 

She leaned closer to examine the gash in his back. Judging from the wedge-shaped trench, he had been hit by an axe...and a large one, at that. It appeared as though his friend had attempted to stitch his wound together, but it was no use against an injury so large. And it was quite possible he was paralyzed.

 

Rhaine took a deep breath and stared at the Altmer, internally gathering the divine magic that lay in her soul. Incantations were no longer needed with her experience. All that was required was a willpower strong enough to bend the magic to her whim. She felt a growing warmth flood her, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the elf's wound.

 

In her mind, she could hear his wavering heartbeat and labored breathing as if it were her own. She forced his heart into an slow and easy rhythm, calming his breathing and relaxing his body into a sleep-like state. Then, she focused on the injury itself. His spinal cord was half severed, at least two vertebrae fractured, his muscle torn nastily from bone. With all the will she could muster, she commanded the tissue to heal.

 

She felt the white magic flowing down her arms, through her hands, and into the Altmer. She watched in her mind's eye as blood vessels reconnected, his spinal cord sealed, and the cracks in his vertebrae vanished. Muscle knitted back together, flesh seamlessly sewed itself whole again, the patchwork stitching disappearing in white flame.

 

She opened her eyes and disconnected herself from the elf. No evidence remained that he had been injured at all. Satisfied, she slowly lowered his head and stood.

 

"It is done," she said simply. "He will need to rest in order to recover from his physical ordeal. I am surprised his heart has not failed him."

 

Rhaine then returned her focus to the little Bosmer, taking in her haggard appearance, "Now, what about you, young one? Are you wounded?"

Edited August 13, 2011 by AurianaValoria1

[tokyobiohazard]

Reona blinked, shaking herself into focus, forcing her eyes to leave the wings as dark and rich as her own ebony locks. Yes, she told herself, hearing her dear brother's voice speaking inside her head, they are wings, and they are upon that woman's back. They are there, and such is reality. Stop looking at them, Reona.

 

"I am not injured, my lady. The blood I wear is not my own," she gestured to the large bandit's bloodied corpse, a bit nervously, "It took only a single blow to fell him. To be quite blunt with you, ma'am, I was following my friend here a bit... discreetly. He interested my traveling companion and I, so we began to follow him from a distance. Today, I smelled blood from far off, and I knew that either my friend was injured, or he was injuring another."

 

Reona took a deep breath and stared down at Arva, feeling a little bit of pride swell in her chest at her kill, a kill that her sword's namesake himself would have boasted about for days. She stood a little taller, and closed her eyes, smiling at the memory of Arva. She sighed a little, once again feeling one of his long-fingered hands rest atop of her head, smiling lightly at how massive he was compared with her. Despite being a Bosmer, he towered above others of their kind. Reona thought that his father was most likely an Altmer, and him just being tall was a story fabricated to cover up her mother's unfaithfulness or perhaps to hide the fact that they weren't even siblings. In her mind's eye, she could see his blond hair obscuring his face, a face so different from her own-----

 

A loud groan pulled Reona from her thoughts with a sharp jolt as the world came into focus around her once again. She glanced over at the Altmer and noticed he was stirring a little, to her satisfaction.

 

She turned to the woman,"Thank you. I don't have any money, unfortunately. Then again, you don't seem like someone who gives assistance in exchange for a reward. I do feel like I must repay you, however. Is there anything that I could help with?"

[Flintlockecole]

Sarah watched secretly amongst the protection of the damp foliage, observing the duel that had just taken place. Her thoughts turned back to her vacant childhood, devoid of the parents that brought her into Nirn. Death...so ultimate, so final, yet she was one to deliver it herself. Thieving, sneaking, silting throats; this was an unusual list to ponder given the circumstances.

 

Observing as the ruthless killer disappeared into the warm copses just ahead, Sarah felt compelled to approach the fallen ranger, her scarlet blood dripping in the sun's glinting light, "Cras in enim nunc temptandi." The prayer was that of respect for the fallen, but no relief came with it. Although it felt wrong to steal from the dead, Sarah's nipping stomach hadn't seen a morsel in three whole days, and this opportunity just couldn't be passed up. Taking the seventy gold pieces, a piece of mutton, bread and cheese, which the murderer had mysteriously skipped, she leaves a final blessing for the departing soul.

 

"They will be put to good use, I promise." Slipping back into the brush, the nimble thief heads to her destination, intent on finding the Scroll Inn before dusk crept from over the mountains.

 

Attempting to decipher the Ranger's map while walking westward Locke tripped over something, it couldn't have been a stump he thought to himself. A signpost shattered at the base lay in the dirt like a fallen sentential. Referring to his recently acquired map he realized he stood in the middle of absolute nowhere, the closest bit of civilization lie 100 miles north of him if his calculations were correct. Pulling out a knife he carved an arrow pointing north on the trees trunk, "Not like anyone will see this" he said to himself, something just compelled him to do so, maybe he was feeling emotions that were lost in his childhood. Marching on what he believed to be north, the only thought that rang in his head was the question of "Is this the Afterlife?"

[AurianaValoria1]

Reona blinked, shaking herself into focus, forcing her eyes to leave the wings as dark and rich as her own ebony locks. Yes, she told herself, hearing her dear brother's voice speaking inside her head, they are wings, and they are upon that woman's back. They are there, and such is reality. Stop looking at them, Reona.

 

"I am not injured, my lady. The blood I wear is not my own," she gestured to the large bandit's bloodied corpse, a bit nervously, "It took only a single blow to fell him. To be quite blunt with you, ma'am, I was following my friend here a bit... discreetly. He interested my traveling companion and I, so we began to follow him from a distance. Today, I smelled blood from far off, and I knew that either my friend was injured, or he was injuring another."

 

Reona took a deep breath and stared down at Arva, feeling a little bit of pride swell in her chest at her kill, a kill that her sword's namesake himself would have boasted about for days. She stood a little taller, and closed her eyes, smiling at the memory of Arva. She sighed a little, once again feeling one of his long-fingered hands rest atop of her head, smiling lightly at how massive he was compared with her. Despite being a Bosmer, he towered above others of their kind. Reona thought that his father was most likely an Altmer, and him just being tall was a story fabricated to cover up her mother's unfaithfulness or perhaps to hide the fact that they weren't even siblings. In her mind's eye, she could see his blond hair obscuring his face, a face so different from her own-----

 

A loud groan pulled Reona from her thoughts with a sharp jolt as the world came into focus around her once again. She glanced over at the Altmer and noticed he was stirring a little, to her satisfaction.

 

She turned to the woman,"Thank you. I don't have any money, unfortunately. Then again, you don't seem like someone who gives assistance in exchange for a reward. I do feel like I must repay you, however. Is there anything that I could help with?"

 

Rhaine sensed a deep loss in this elven woman. She bore it with dignity, but it weighed heavily upon her small shoulders. Yet, she was brave, and that would serve her well...

 

She glanced at the sleeping Altmer. He would wake soon, and with his awareness would come a barrage of questions.

 

"Wait just a moment," she said, turning to the corpses strewn about, "There is one thing left that I must do. Hear my words well. When a person dies a violent death such as this, they must be taken care of properly, lest their spirit remain tied to this world by threads of vengeance. Though these poor fools may have chosen a wretched life, no spirit deserves the abominable curse that is undeath."

 

She drew her sword. Holding it high, she intoned, "I bond thee with my Lord's blade, and thy edge is now of Fatal Touch...let thine steel shine with his glory!"

 

The sword suddenly erupted in bright green flame, humming softly with power. Rhaine walked over to the nearest corpse, then plunged the blade into the body. The corpse flared with white hot light, the green flames leaping high, and within seconds had incinerated to nothing but ash. She repeated this ritual with the other bodies...pieces of bodies in the case of one unfortunate fool.

 

Sheathing the sword, the flames were extinguished. Holding her hands aloft, she said, "Be at peace, souls of the fallen. Let nothing disturb your eternal rest."

 

With that, a gust of wind swept the ashes from the road, so that nothing remained of the bandits but stains of blood.

 

Rhaine turned again to the elf, "Let us wait now for your friend to awaken, shall we? Then we may speak of repayment. Oh," she pulled a white cloth from a pouch at her belt, "come here. Let me take care of your hands."

[iansaltman]

Reona blinked, shaking herself into focus, forcing her eyes to leave the wings as dark and rich as her own ebony locks. Yes, she told herself, hearing her dear brother's voice speaking inside her head, they are wings, and they are upon that woman's back. They are there, and such is reality. Stop looking at them, Reona.

 

"I am not injured, my lady. The blood I wear is not my own," she gestured to the large bandit's bloodied corpse, a bit nervously, "It took only a single blow to fell him. To be quite blunt with you, ma'am, I was following my friend here a bit... discreetly. He interested my traveling companion and I, so we began to follow him from a distance. Today, I smelled blood from far off, and I knew that either my friend was injured, or he was injuring another."

 

Reona took a deep breath and stared down at Arva, feeling a little bit of pride swell in her chest at her kill, a kill that her sword's namesake himself would have boasted about for days. She stood a little taller, and closed her eyes, smiling at the memory of Arva. She sighed a little, once again feeling one of his long-fingered hands rest atop of her head, smiling lightly at how massive he was compared with her. Despite being a Bosmer, he towered above others of their kind. Reona thought that his father was most likely an Altmer, and him just being tall was a story fabricated to cover up her mother's unfaithfulness or perhaps to hide the fact that they weren't even siblings. In her mind's eye, she could see his blond hair obscuring his face, a face so different from her own-----

 

A loud groan pulled Reona from her thoughts with a sharp jolt as the world came into focus around her once again. She glanced over at the Altmer and noticed he was stirring a little, to her satisfaction.

 

She turned to the woman,"Thank you. I don't have any money, unfortunately. Then again, you don't seem like someone who gives assistance in exchange for a reward. I do feel like I must repay you, however. Is there anything that I could help with?"

 

Rhaine sensed a deep loss in this elven woman. She bore it with dignity, but it weighed heavily upon her small shoulders. Yet, she was brave, and that would serve her well...

 

She glanced at the sleeping Altmer. He would wake soon, and with his awareness would come a barrage of questions.

 

"Wait just a moment," she said, turning to the corpses strewn about, "There is one thing left that I must do. Hear my words well. When a person dies a violent death such as this, they must be taken care of properly, lest their spirit remain tied to this world by threads of vengeance. Though these poor fools may have chosen a wretched life, no spirit deserves the abominable curse that is undeath."

 

She drew her sword. Holding it high, she intoned, "I bond thee with my Lord's blade, and thy edge is now of Fatal Touch...let thine steel shine with his glory!"

 

The sword suddenly erupted in bright green flame, humming softly with power. Rhaine walked over to the nearest corpse, then plunged the blade into the body. The corpse flared with white hot light, the green flames leaping high, and within seconds had incinerated to nothing but ash. She repeated this ritual with the other bodies...pieces of bodies in the case of one unfortunate fool.

 

Sheathing the sword, the flames were extinguished. Holding her hands aloft, she said, "Be at peace, souls of the fallen. Let nothing disturb your eternal rest."

 

With that, a gust of wind swept the ashes from the road, so that nothing remained of the bandits but stains of blood.

 

Rhaine turned again to the elf, "Let us wait now for your friend to awaken, shall we? Then we may speak of repayment. Oh," she pulled a white cloth from a pouch at her belt, "come here. Let me take care of your hands."

 

At this moment Elludnil awoke and rose to his feet with a smile, he glanced at Rhaine, then at Reona's bloody hands. He then took her hands into his, whispering a small spell under his lips. And at that moment his runes began to glow a soft red- almost pink, and his hands a luminous white. After holding her hands for a moment longer than needed, he knelt down before the two that had saved his life.

 

"There is no way I could repay either of you, for I owe you my life and I am forever in your debt. If there is anything the either of you would have of me, I would do it willingly."

 

Ellundil seemed to be at a loss for words, and nervously awaited a response.

[AurianaValoria1]

At this moment Elludnil awoke and rose to his feet with a smile, he glanced at Rhaine, then at Reona's bloody hands. He then took her hands into his, whispering a small spell under his lips. And at that moment his runes began to glow a soft red- almost pink, and his hands a luminous white. After holding her hands for a moment longer than needed, he knelt down before the two that had saved his life.

 

"There is no way I could repay either of you, for I owe you my life and I am forever in your debt. If there is anything the either of you would have of me, I would do it willingly."

 

Ellundil seemed to be at a loss for words, and nervously awaited a response.

 

Raising her eyebrows at the Bosmer's now miraculously clean hands, she wordlessly put her handkerchief away. Suddenly remembering that she hadn't even told either one of them her name, she shook her head in frustration.

 

"Please accept my sincerest apologies for not properly introducing myself. My name is Rhaine Alcinea. I am a Favored Soul and Chosen of Kelemvor, the Lord of the Dead. Do not worry if you do not recognize his name...I come from a world beyond this one. And you two? What do you call yourselves?"

[KennethKarl]

It was almost midday when Gommoran approached the Inn. The ground was wet on account of the torrential rains the night before. He was poorly dressed wearing a tattered shirt and trousers, with a large thick cow-hide poncho covering him. In one hand he held his old axe, it had a worn wooden handle and a steel head. In the othe hand he held his pet goose which had a fractured leg.

 

"Hello" He shouted, "Is anyone there?" When he didn't here a response he approched the door. He set down his goose carefully on a bail of hay and told it "Now you stay here, down run away. Hahaha." When he knocked on the door the door fell off of it's hinges and hit the ground.

 

In his deep voice he said "By Ysmir's Beard! That's the second time in a week that's happened! I'm terribly sorry." He said looking at the glaring eyes staring back at him from within the inn.

[tokyobiohazard]

Raising her eyebrows at the Bosmer's now miraculously clean hands, she wordlessly put her handkerchief away. Suddenly remembering that she hadn't even told either one of them her name, she shook her head in frustration.

 

"Please accept my sincerest apologies for not properly introducing myself. My name is Rhaine Alcinea. I am a Favored Soul and Chosen of Kelemvor, the Lord of the Dead. Do not worry if you do not recognize his name...I come from a world beyond this one. And you two? What do you call yourselves?"

 

Reona curtsied, her hair blowing in the now-calm breeze, "My name is Reona. I have neither a last name nor a title for myself. I cannot say that I have a special purpose or am any sort of chosen one, but I am a fair hand with my sword, Arva, when roused, and that is enough to content me."

 

She turned to her Altmer friend, "This reminds me, I have yet to learn your name."