The tall tales & tragedies of the Chattering Scroll Inn

[Keanumoreira]

 

 

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?"

 

 

Moving forward, Sarah suddenly found herself lost, finding the footsteps she had laid just some fifteen minutes before. Eventually, she found herself in a wide clearing, not a spot of forest life to be found in any direction. Within this clearing existed a lone tree trunk and upon its barky armor, an arrow was carved into it, pointing North to some unknown destination.

 

"That's strange, what's this doing here"? Sarah stepped closer, running her hand down its smooth, clean cut surface.

 

"It's fresh. Smells...new. Someone's been here, perhaps still here". At this very moment, the wind began to rustle unnaturally, the grass beneath her feet whipping, the Charice glowing a bright blue as Sarah blew a sigh of icy breath. A whisper trembled from off her tongue, "Not again"...

 

"Sarah....." The voice was low and secluded.

 

"Go away..."

 

"Now...now...is that any way to treat your Uncle?"

 

"We are not related. You are a monster...an abomination. Nothing more."

 

"Oh....And you're not the same way? You know how it is with your kind. Feet as silent and light as feathers, yet as sharp as that silver dagger resting there in your leather sack. You kill and you steal, yet you claim to be this Robin hood from out of the storybooks. Face it my dear, you're no better than-"

 

"Sanguine...what do you want"? The wind suddenly mistified around the base of the tree trunk. Within this manifestation, the physical form of the Daedric God, Sanguine, appeared there, sitting on the trunk, knee crossed over the other, swishing wine around in a silver goblet as radiant as the heavens themselves. He sat there with purpose, without a care, staring into her soul with seductive interest.

 

"Just here to say hello my dear. How've you been? Good...bad?"

 

"Like you give a damn about how I'm feeling".

 

"Now my child...you know that isn't true. I'd give you all of Nirn just to prove it. All I want is what you want". Her stomach churned at his self-assured words; Sarah knew the ruse he was trying to pull over her.

 

"What I want? Heh...it's always what you want. Since I was born, you've cursed me with the gift of misfortune, with this...this damn amulet forged from the waters of Oblivion itself, right out from the hands of Mehrunes Dagon no doubt. You killed my parents and destroyed my life, yet you claim to care about what I want? Well then I want my life back! Remove this curse you've placed over me!" Tugging at the Charice, it glows in defiance, tightening its grip around her neck.

 

"I'm not the one who killed your parents my dear; I have no influence over the little trinkets I selflessly give to the mortal population. I didn't lead your father into that nasty alcoholic road he lead himself down, or for your pig of a mother to die during something as simple as childbirth. Let's face it, they were weak. They deserved their fates, exactly as they received them. I'm merely the overseer to their own destruction, the one taking notes to humanities self-down spiral into the ashes of fiery rebellion they each present within themselves. Your kind is nothing more than a stubborn bunch of animals incapable of reason or listening to those who are clearly set above them".

 

"Don't you dare talk ill about my parents, or down to my kind"! Sarah retorted with a stern flip of her finger, "The Daedric race is no more corrupted and gluttonous in their own pursuits than that of humanities. You sit and you drink on your fat stomachs like spoiled, greasy boars, throwing your weight around as if you had the privilege. You burn, you laugh, you drink, and you perform in rape and murder, just like the offspring your race has produced. You may have created us, but that doesn't free you from the horrible deeds you have performed yourself, nor the right to cast them upon us. The Daedra claim to have it all, but in truth, they have nothing. They are devoid of all responsibility and morals that their mortal creations hold over them." Sanguine, who was impressed by this speech, clapped his hands with approval, not out of sarcasm, but out of true admiration.

 

"I must admit my child...you have learned much on your travels. Heh...heh...heh....but always remember this..." His physical form reverted once more into that frosty blue mist, grasping Sarah at the chin like a firm hand had wrapped around it, "We are still in charge...there are forces at work that you nor your pity brain can possibly come anywhere close to comprehension. We made this world, and we made you. That's why we're up there and you're down here in the swallows of Nirn. Remember that".

 

With a pull of the wind, Sanguine disappeared from the clearing, the Charice gradually dying down to its original state. Sarah, although feeling shaken and angry with her encounter, pressed on, knowing that wherever the arrow pointed, it must have been leading to the Scrolls Inn. Or so she assumed. Dusk was slowly beginning to peak in from over the horizon. There was no time to waste.

[iansaltman]

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."

 

Ah yes, I believe it was about damn time I told you my name Reona, you have earned it after all. I am Elludnil, descended from a long line of pure High Elves, from a lonely island off the cost of Summerset. There my family raised me to a fighter, but you would not have guessed that from my recent encounter.. I shall not show ungratefulness for the deeds thine ladies of wonder have performed for my tortured soul today, nor shall I forget the kind and calm hearts that have touched and warmed mine this very afternoon.

 

He paused for a moment, feeling the wind on his face.

 

"I believe it is time I retire to the Inn, it would do me very well to get some rest,"

 

At this he bowed solemnly before his rescuers, then looking back at the fair maidens before him.

 

"You know, I could probably use some help getting to the Chattering Scrolls, would either of you care to accompany an elf such as I?"

Edited August 17, 2011 by iansaltman

[AurianaValoria1]

Ah yes, I believe it was about damn time I told you my name Reona, you have earned it after all. I am Elludnil, descended from a long line of pure High Elves, from a lonely island off the cost of Summerset. There my family raised me to a fighter, but you would not have guessed that from my recent encounter.. I shall not show ungratefulness for the deeds thine ladies of wonder have performed for my tortured soul today, nor shall I forget the kind and calm hearts that have touched and warmed mine this very afternoon.

 

He paused for a moment, feeling the wind on his face.

 

"I believe it is time I retire to the Inn, it would do me very well to get some rest,"

 

At this he bowed solemnly before his rescuers, looted one of the nearby bandits for coins (findings a surprisingly heavy coinpurse) then looking back at the fair maidens before him.

 

"You know, I could probably use some help getting to the Chattering Scrolls, would either of you care to accompany an elf such as I?"

 

Rhaine's eyes grew wide in excitement, "This road leads to the Chattering Scroll? Oh, praise be to Kelemvor! You don't know how glad I am to hear that. I've been searching for that blasted inn for several tendays. It seems folk here think it's funny to trick a plane traveler. Anyone who I have asked has either refused the information altogether or led me in circles for their amusement."

 

"Thanatos!" she called. The black stallion, who had bent to graze while his mistress was treating the Altmer, lifted his noble head and walked forward. A wall of ebony muscle, the horse was as intimidating as he was beautiful, his warm brown eyes shining with his fiery spirit. She took his reins, fondly patting his velvet muzzle.

 

"Please. Reona...Elludnil," she nodded to each elf in turn, "allow me to offer you my steed. He is strong, and can carry two. I'm sure both of you are weary after your battle, and I am saddle-sore from riding for days. In truth, walking would be a welcome respite for me. Simply direct me to the inn, and I shall lead him there."

[myrmaad]

 

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?"

 

The Drow/Dumner woman blinked, green eyes flashing as she took in the plethora of words the woman seemed to shove in a smallish space of time. Deciding to give her answers in a similar fashion, Kismet answered.

 

"I know not. Yes. To let you out. To the East. Where the males are, I would think."

 

Having answered Kismet looked around the cavern again with perfect sight, inherent to the Drow race. Looking back to the woman and her femur weapon she pulled a dagger from a cleverly hidden sheath on the outside of her boot. Flipping it from hilt to blade, she unerringly caught it and handed it toward the woman.

 

"Will this due until we find this bow? I can poison it if you promise not to injure yourself with it." The blade was blacker than the darkest parts of the cavern, the hilt magnificently made. A treasure to be sure, in this world anyway. Yet the Drow handed it away as if it was nothing, a trinket of lowest value.

 

The faerie fire shone on the Drow's curious face. Her dark skin perfect and without scars or blemishes. She was lovely, with high cheekbones and almond-slit eyes. Her countenance perfect but thus far so perfect as to seem unnatural. She could pass for an unusual looking Dumner...Kismet however had an arrogant stare and held herself in a manner which made most who encountered her, if they did not turn tail and run, cower slightly and follow her commands. Though she gave nothing away other than curiousness...it was the curiousness of a large, predatory cat has when its belly is full...that sees a rabbit come from its burrow.

 

The Drow looked again to the female. Wiggling the dagger's hilt at the woman, Kismet said again in her low-silky voice. "Come! Decide and let us be going. Otherwise I leave you here with only that for your company!" Kismet nodded in the direction of the femur still gripped tightly in the woman's hand. The as if an afterthought the Drow spoke again, "Oh...I am Kismet. Now I am know to you. Let us make haste."

 

 

 

"Well, ok then!"

 

The blade felt pretty light and familiar in her hand. With a sheepish smile she tossed the bone onto a pile of rubbish nearby. The woman with the bedazzled mystique leading the way, they began the journey out, creeping silently through the rather large old fort, the sound was at times so silent they could hear their own breath, a step further and they heard the strange dank drip of unseen water, and even stranger distant echoes and loud creaking groans, as if the ancient building had an uncomfortable living essence of its own. Suddenly ahead the way was blocked. The floor had given way and collapsed. There were some fallen planks that led further down into the depths of the old dungeon. The two wordlessly agreed the way out was through, and began the descent.

 

They spoke only occasionally in soft whispers, listening carefully, fading into shadow. Though when she appeared in the light, Mae's companion appeared to shine with a light of her own, Mae also noticed that she was as stealthy as Mae herself, becoming one with the darkness. Watching her carefully but sidelong as they continued through the caverns in the depths, Mae noticed that this Kismet left no barrel, drawer, or chest unturned, deftly unlocking and emptying anything of use or value into her seemingly bottomless little satchel, that most of the time remained hidden.

 

It had been about two hours since she had awoken on the damp floor above, and while she wasn't really hungry, Mae was feeling parched. As they quietly continued their methodical passage, Mae began to wonder again at this beautiful and interesting creature that was her friendly yet fearsome companion.

 

As she mulled these thoughts, she occasionally watched the woman as she picked a lock with one hand, seemingly never even touched it, she appeared to wave her hand over the chest as it opened and with a beautiful gesture her fingers found the small cache of valuables inside and whisked them into her satchel, so gracefully it was like her hands were little ballerinas. As if reading her mind, Kismet wordlessly handed her a small flask filled with a draught of Sinyaramen's Water. The taste was clean and sweet and she welcomed the feeling of refreshment. Even as she drank and replenished her energies, she watched the little finger dance of the drow's handiwork. One part of her brain wondered, where does she put all that stuff?

 

On encountering that thought it was instantly interrupted as a big white man came flying headlong through the next door they were headed toward, coming right at them, his eyes wide and wild, he didn't seem to register their presence at all. His lips were curled into a macabre grimace and suddenly his running feet just seemed to collapse beneath him! Mae caught a look at her dazzling companion, but she seemed as perplexed as Mae --

 

Suddenly the air filled with an acrid smokey stale odor, threatening to overcome her, she covered her face with her cloak instinctively to protect herself from the extremely unpleasant odor. An instant later the wall around the door the brute had fled toward them through collapsed around them. Kismet and Mae were both tumbled into the debris and rubble of the explosion. Unhurt, Mae stared up at the creature responsible. The thing was two-men-tall, with beautiful glossy purple black claws on his feet as big as a big man's arm, and dark wings that curled from claws at the joints around his back. Its eyes glowed goldenred and white hot, and the fowl beast was busy ripping off the back of another poor fellow's skull!

[MikeRyan]

Back at the inn, Mike had decided to do something else than just sitting around so he walked up to the bartender, Snout, and asked if he had any work he could do

 

"Hello there snout! Got any jobs you need help with? I could use something to do"

 

"Tired of holding down the table there, are you?"

 

"Yeah I fear ill grow into the seat if I sit any longer"

 

"I do have something you can help me with, I have been worrying over my woman. It's not like her to be gone this long without sending word. I'm planning to go find her and bring her back, (if she wants to come). Seems like you would be perfect for holding down the fort."

 

"Yeah I can do that"

 

Alright, every evening the plowmen come in and they get 2 septims and 2 draughts and dinner for their daily ration. You'll have to look after the horse barn yourself, mind the bandits, sometimes we get someone thinks they'll make off with a free horse. I'm taking Mae's horse with me, and my own. Catch that lass faster on horseback you know."

 

“Right” Mike started to write everything down on a piece of paper “understood”

 

"We get libations in every Wednesday from a local Vineyard. Don't forget to have someone gather the eggs and feed the chickens. We have a boy who lives nearby likes to come and help out with the chickens and I let him have some fresh eggs or breakfast for his trouble."

 

"A fair bargain"

 

"And the rooms, 15 septims a night, and if we have the room we generally don't turn anyone away. They have to clean their own quarters, we don't have any maids, cept the myrmaad. She'll clean a room once in a while but she's more likely to bust a head."

 

"Ah, a lady with some power in her, that’s nice"

 

"You've been hanging around here enough to know most of this right?"

 

"Yeah, pretty much"

 

"Do you know your way around a skillet?"

 

"Yup, that I do"

 

"Well it's usually potluck around here in the evening, and many times people will bring in fresh fish or venison or whatever they have and help cook or cook for themselves. The kitchen is open to anyone who feels like helping out."

 

"An excellent idea!"

 

“The supplies are in the back room with a chest of petty cash if you need anything else. I leave you with my trust and this key. You won't let me down I think. If you know what's good for you.”

 

“I won’t! I swear on my honour and on my blade! Speaking of blade, what should I do if there is any trouble?”

 

The orc appraised the young broad fellow. "I think you'll handle it fine," he said.

 

“Anyway, it's not like you don't have a bunch of folks around who love to bust heads, now is it?” The Orc laughed, handing him a key.

 

Mike laughed together with the orc "that’s true my good man"

 

“This is the key to the storage room”

 

Mike hooked the key to his belt and nodded "Right, good luck out there Snout, something tells me you will need it"

 

Snout hands Mike his apron, waves at a large wall filled with pegs,"Keys are empty rooms, when someone checks in give them the key to their room. That's it".

 

And out the door he went.

 

Mike stood in the doorway and waved for a little while before heading behind the counter, ready to serve the customers

[tokyobiohazard]

Ah yes, I believe it was about damn time I told you my name Reona, you have earned it after all. I am Elludnil, descended from a long line of pure High Elves, from a lonely island off the cost of Summerset. There my family raised me to a fighter, but you would not have guessed that from my recent encounter.. I shall not show ungratefulness for the deeds thine ladies of wonder have performed for my tortured soul today, nor shall I forget the kind and calm hearts that have touched and warmed mine this very afternoon.

 

He paused for a moment, feeling the wind on his face.

 

"I believe it is time I retire to the Inn, it would do me very well to get some rest,"

 

At this he bowed solemnly before his rescuers, looted one of the nearby bandits for coins (findings a surprisingly heavy coinpurse) then looking back at the fair maidens before him.

 

"You know, I could probably use some help getting to the Chattering Scrolls, would either of you care to accompany an elf such as I?"

 

Rhaine's eyes grew wide in excitement, "This road leads to the Chattering Scroll? Oh, praise be to Kelemvor! You don't know how glad I am to hear that. I've been searching for that blasted inn for several tendays. It seems folk here think it's funny to trick a plane traveler. Anyone who I have asked has either refused the information altogether or led me in circles for their amusement."

 

"Thanatos!" she called. The black stallion, who had bent to graze while his mistress was treating the Altmer, lifted his noble head and walked forward. A wall of ebony muscle, the horse was as intimidating as he was beautiful, his warm brown eyes shining with his fiery spirit. She took his reins, fondly patting his velvet muzzle.

 

"Please. Reona...Elludnil," she nodded to each elf in turn, "allow me to offer you my steed. He is strong, and can carry two. I'm sure both of you are weary after your battle, and I am saddle-sore from riding for days. In truth, walking would be a welcome respite for me. Simply direct me to the inn, and I shall lead him there."

 

Reona smiled at her friend, "Elludnil, it is a pleasure."

 

Reona then inclined her head at Rhaine, "I thank you for your offer, my lady. He is a magnificent beast, and I must admit, jumping from the treetops to the road below has taken quite a toll on my legs."

 

She stroked the great horse's pitch-black muzzle, and looked deep into his eyes, noting they were kind and intelligent, the deep brown warm and knowing as the horse stared back at her. She leaned in to whisper a few lines in the ancient language she was taught as a child, the language of magic, to Thanatos. Although she wasn't very skilled in magic itself (as she had yet to study magic and avoided trying to find the spark within herself until she understood magic better), she still could use the language to communicate with animals and plants and converse with her people. The horse's ear twitched as he heard what she said and registered her meaning, and then snorted loudly.

 

She turned away, still lightly petting the horse's muzzle, and grinned a bit sheepishly, "I told him he was a handsome creature, and asked if it was alright if I rode him. It is a custom of the village I'm from to ask a horse if you may ride on its back before doing so. He seems to be quite intelligent, as he seemed to laugh at my question and then boast about his strength. Horses can be such self-confident creatures sometimes, if not a bit cocky."

 

Chuckling a bit, she mounted Thanatos and relaxed a bit in the front of his saddle.

[AurianaValoria1]

Reona smiled at her friend, "Elludnil, it is a pleasure."

 

Reona then inclined her head at Rhaine, "I thank you for your offer, my lady. He is a magnificent beast, and I must admit, jumping from the treetops to the road below has taken quite a toll on my legs."

 

She stroked the great horse's pitch-black muzzle, and looked deep into his eyes, noting they were kind and intelligent, the deep brown warm and knowing as the horse stared back at her. She leaned in to whisper a few lines in the ancient language she was taught as a child, the language of magic, to Thanatos. Although she wasn't very skilled in magic itself (as she had yet to study magic and avoided trying to find the spark within herself until she understood magic better), she still could use the language to communicate with animals and plants and converse with her people. The horse's ear twitched as he heard what she said and registered her meaning, and then snorted loudly.

 

She turned away, still lightly petting the horse's muzzle, and grinned a bit sheepishly, "I told him he was a handsome creature, and asked if it was alright if I rode him. It is a custom of the village I'm from to ask a horse if you may ride on its back before doing so. He seems to be quite intelligent, as he seemed to laugh at my question and then boast about his strength. Horses can be such self-confident creatures sometimes, if not a bit cocky."

 

Chuckling a bit, she mounted Thanatos and relaxed a bit in the front of his saddle.

 

Rhaine laughed aloud, "Thanatos is not lacking in confidence, that is for certain."

 

Experimentally, she focused her thoughts on the Bosmer, channeling her will into a state similar to the telepathy she used occasionally with Kelemvor: And I certainly hope he doesn't divulge all of my secrets.

 

She detected a hint of surprise from Reona as she waited for a response from Ellundil.

[KennethKarl]

"Hey pick up that damn door! You're letting the heat out!" Shouted the orc bartender.

 

"I am ever so sorry good sir, I'll fix it right away!"

Gommoran effortlessly picked up the heavy oaken door, lifted it and placed it back on its hinges. He grabed his axe and used the back of the axe-head to hammer the rod firmly into the hinge.

 

"There, thats done! Sorry about that."

 

"Eh, it's alright. It was bound to happen soon." Replied the orc.

 

"Well then, enough of that! I am Gommoran, retired mercenary." Said Gommoran as he held out his callused hand.

 

"Snout, barkeep. And your standing in the Chattering Scroll Inn. It ain't much to look at but it's mine."

 

"Ain't much to look at? Any man with his own claim and tavern is noble in my book. Anyways, I was wondering how much for a room?

 

"10 gold ought to do for the night." Said the orc.

 

Gommoran reached into his cluttered bag and after about 3 minutes managed to scrounge 10 gold.

 

"Here you are my good man. Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any healers round 'ere would you? My goose has a fractured leg." I'd heal her myself but magicka doesn't flow through my body at all."

 

"Hmm, there were some mages in here earlier but they ran off. They might be back later if your willing to wait."

 

"I suppose, well I'll be off to my room now. I'm exhausted."

 

Gommoran walked out the door, grabed his goose he'd left out side and walked up the creeky wooden stairs. When he entered his room he droped his bag, axe and poncho on the floor, set the goose down and ploped on the bed.

The bed was a little dirty, but he didn't mind. He had slept in worse places. He sat the goose next to him. It flapped its wings a few times the rested its head on Gommoran's leg, making low and faint honking sounds.

He grabed his bag and pulled out his flask and jar. He drank some mead and ate some of his corn-mash preserves. He fed some to the goose as well. After about 15 minutes he fell asleep.

Edited August 22, 2011 by Gaius_Ignatius

[myrmaad]

Who would have guessed only a few short hours later, the Orc would be loping at an easy pace, albeit uncomfortably, away, the Inn the very last thing on his mind.

 

He had an unusual grace for an Orsimer, with a narrow build and long slender fingers. He kept two large pouches full of tools at his saddle. His horse, no more comfortable then her rider seemed resigned to carrying his bony behind and appreciated his lack of volume somewhat made up for the full saddlebags. They were used to each other. He had once said he could do without horses, if he could find a dwemer cart like he'd had as a child. A beloved uncle had brought him one he'd found during an adventure in the South of Morrowind. He was actually thinking of that Dwemer cart at this very moment. That was the way to ride! It had pistons and a little engine, four propellers that faced behind and underneath, and mechanical wings that folded in and out, like fireplace bellows. The mechanical wings would flap in and out filling a bladder with air, the pressurized air would flow toward the propellers and the whole cart would sail forward on it's wheels. It was the neatest thing. But he had left home when he was just 17 and had no idea what might have become of the little dwemer cart.

 

The sun glowed orange at the edge of the meadow filling the sky with pink and purple streamers. The three of them had been traveling for several hours now and in fact he wasn't sure where he was going. He decided to make camp in a small clearing by a creek. He set about making his camp, meticulously unfolding, unrolling, unsheathing. He cut some stakes from the wood of a small tree, carefully tied lines to the poles, and draped his canvas tying the ends securely into clove hitches. He unrolled his bedroll and then fed and watered the two horses. He had decided against a fire, he had a dinner of bread and cheese and tied the rest of his food up and hooked it into a tall branch of a tree on the outskirts of the clearing. He crawled into his little shelter for a couple hours of rest, at least, if he couldn't find sleep.

[iansaltman]

Reona smiled at her friend, "Elludnil, it is a pleasure."

 

Reona then inclined her head at Rhaine, "I thank you for your offer, my lady. He is a magnificent beast, and I must admit, jumping from the treetops to the road below has taken quite a toll on my legs."

 

She stroked the great horse's pitch-black muzzle, and looked deep into his eyes, noting they were kind and intelligent, the deep brown warm and knowing as the horse stared back at her. She leaned in to whisper a few lines in the ancient language she was taught as a child, the language of magic, to Thanatos. Although she wasn't very skilled in magic itself (as she had yet to study magic and avoided trying to find the spark within herself until she understood magic better), she still could use the language to communicate with animals and plants and converse with her people. The horse's ear twitched as he heard what she said and registered her meaning, and then snorted loudly.

 

She turned away, still lightly petting the horse's muzzle, and grinned a bit sheepishly, "I told him he was a handsome creature, and asked if it was alright if I rode him. It is a custom of the village I'm from to ask a horse if you may ride on its back before doing so. He seems to be quite intelligent, as he seemed to laugh at my question and then boast about his strength. Horses can be such self-confident creatures sometimes, if not a bit cocky."

 

Chuckling a bit, she mounted Thanatos and relaxed a bit in the front of his saddle.

 

Rhaine laughed aloud, "Thanatos is not lacking in confidence, that is for certain."

 

Experimentally, she focused her thoughts on the Bosmer, channeling her will into a state similar to the telepathy she used occasionally with Kelemvor: And I certainly hope he doesn't divulge all of my secrets.

 

She detected a hint of surprise from Reona as she waited for a response from Ellundil.

 

Ellundil was at a loss for words- never in his days of travelling and roaming the Earth had he ridden upon a steed, nor had he seen one of such stature as thine horse before him. Ellundil pulled out a map that he had stored on a pouch around his leather belt, he unfolded it slowly, as if it were ancient and fragile.

 

"I understand you need to find the Inn, I already have its location marked on the map, make sure you go to this oak with the..."

 

Ellundil went into unusually long detail about how to travel to the Inn, he could see the feeling of contempt in Rhaine's eyes so he proceeded to back away. After folding his map up and patting it into Rhaine's hand, he looked up at the majestic stallion. He wasn't exactly sure how to mount such a beast, so he jumped from the ground where he was standing right one its back. He was nervous- which you could clearly see in his eyes (if they weren't covered by his hair) - so he gripped tightly on Reona's fore-arms and was ready to be off, waiting for Rhaine to set onward!