The Elder Scrolls: Akamal

[kongurous]

The continent of Tamriel has many tales to tell. Indeed, though its history only spans a short few thousand years, the entirety of the continent has seen enough war to fill eternity. From Daedra Lords to usurpers and everything in between, Tamriel faced annihilation. The only promise of solace for this beautiful land was the Septim Empire, founded by the legendary Tiber Septim.

Many already know the story. In the Second Era of Tamriel, he was born in the homeland of the Nords, Atmora, under the name of Talos and left south to Skyrim, learning the arts of war and strategy. After this, he left for Cyrodiil and was employed under the name of Tiber Septim by a Colovian king. Under this king, he fought the Akaviri Potentates of the Second Cyrodiilic Empire and also against the Nords and their allies in High Rock, the Bretons. He became Emperor of Tamriel by defeating and conquering both Skyrim and High Rock and striking an alliance with the Tribunal Temple in Morrowind, gaining a gigantic war machine known as Numidium.

But that is all ancient news, happening over 200 years ago. Tiber Septim's empire now lies in the hands of Uriel Septim V, said to be the greatest warrior-king since Tiber Septim. Such claims are false, however, as he gathered most of the Empire's military and left on a frivolous military expedition, leaving Tamriel in the hands of an undermanned Imperial Guard.

In light of this development, the mercenary business has flourished. Never before has their been so much business for fighting, and many have capitalized on the idea of going off to Akavir to fight alongside the Emperor's expedition, only to find out one of two things: One, the trip costs too much money, or two, they die in one of the hectic storms between Tamriel and Akavir.

Still, this has not stopped many people, and one man, Augustus Tello, has decided he'd join in on the fighting. Augustus is a career mercenary, having braved the deserts of Hammerfell, dealt with revolts on Summerset Isle, even fought in the swamps of the Black Marsh, but he has never set foot on foreign soil. Well, not yet at least.

Because of his experience, he commands around four other mercenaries, depending on his mood and the situation. In truth, he could have more, but doesn't like large forces and prefers small, elite forces. Because of this, he has gone to Morrowind, asking for experienced fighters of all professions to come to him and they'd go around Tamriel, fighting for whoever paid highest. Who knows, maybe they'd even go to Akavir.



Now that we're done with that, it's time for the technical stuff. All of us are mercenaries, joined by some inexplicable reason or another to Augustus Tello and his offer of employment. You may pick every aspect of your character, and while I am granting you a lot of lee way with that, there is also a great responsibility not to mess up. Anyway, the outcome of this RP can end in three very different ways, depending on how we want to move. So let's just try to have fun and see how shit takes us, alright? Btw, let's get this straight: the in-game year is 290 of the Third Era, or 3E 290. Oblivion beings around 3E 433 or so, and the death of Mehrunes Dagon marks the beginning of the 4th Era. We're 99 years before The Elder Scrolls 1, and 143 years before Oblivion. If you're wondering what Akamal means, do some research on what Akavir means and the names of the nations in Akavir.

Here's the character sheet I'd like you to use.

Name: (you will die if I have to explain this)
Age: (see above)
Race: (not a marathon)
Alias(es): (nicknames you are known by)
Class: (feel free to make up your own, but make the name self-explanatory)
Birthsign: (one of the 13 signs below)
Guild(s): (what guild/s you are a member of, and what rank)
Specialization: (magic, stealth, or combat)
Primary skills: (combat skills: Blades, Heavy Armor, Block, blunt, hand-to-hand)
(magic skills: destruction, alteration, illusion, mysticism, restoration)
(stealth skills: security, sneak, light armor, marksman)
Your specialization makes you better at certain abilities, so if you specialize in combat, your combat skills are better. This really doesn't have any bearing on playability, but it does effect how I will judge your posts. Please only pick seven.
Description: (height, hair color, if you have hair, eye color, any interesting physical features)
Bio: (good 3-4 paragraphs should do it.)

Here are the races:
Argonian - Little is known and less is understood about the reptilian denizens of Black Marsh. Years of defending their borders have made the Argonians experts in guerrilla warfare, and their natural abilities make them equally at home in water and on land. They are well suited for the treacherous swamps of their homeland, and have developed natural immunities to the diseases and poisons that have doomed many would-be explorers of the region.

Breton - Bretons feel an inborn, instinctive bond with the mercurial forces of magic and the supernatural. Many great sorcerers have come from the home province of High Rock, and in addition to their quick and perceptive grasp of spellcraft, enchantment, and alchemy, even the humblest of Bretons boast a high resistance to destructive and dominating magical energies.

Dark Elf/Dunmer - In the Empire of Tamriel, Dark Elf is the common term, but in their Morrowind homeland, they call themselves the "Dunmer". The dark-skinned, red-eyed Dunmer combine powerful intellect with strong and agile physiques, producing superior warriors and sorcerers. On the battlefield, Dark Elves are noted for their skilled and balanced integration of swordsmen, marksmen, and war wizards.

High Elf/Altmer - The High Elves, or Altmer, are the proud, tall, golden-skinned peoples of Summerset Isle. The common tongue of the Empire, Tamrielic, is based on their speech and writing, and most of the Empire's arts, crafts, and sciences are derived from High Elven traditions. Deft, intelligent, and strong-willed, High Elves are often gifted in the arcane arts, and far more resistant to diseases than the "lesser" races. However, they are highly vulnerable to all magical damage.

Imperial - Natives of the civilized, cosmopolitan province of Cyrodiil, the Imperials are well-educated and well-spoken. Though physically less imposing than the other races, the Imperials have proved to be shrewd diplomats and traders. These traits, along with their remarkable skill and training as light infantry, have enabled them to subdue all the other provinces and to have erected the monument of peace and prosperity that comprises the Glorious Empire of Tamriel.

Khajiit - Khajiit hail from the province of Elseweyr and can vary in appearance from nearly Elven to the cathay-raht "jaguar men" to the great Senche-Tiger. The most common breed, the suthay-raht, is intelligent, quick, and agile. Many Khajiit disdain weapons in favor of their natural claws. They make excellent thieves due to their natural agility and unmatched Acrobatics skill.

Nord - The citizens of Skyrim are a tall and fair-haired people, aggressive and fearless in war, industrious and enterprising in trade and exploration. Skilled sailors, Nords can be found in seaports and settlements along the coasts and rivers of Tamriel. Strong, willful, and hardy, Nords are famous for their resistance to cold, even magical frost. Violence is an accepted and comfortable aspect of Nordic culture, they cheerfully face battle with an ecstatic ferocity that shocks and appalls their enemies.

Orc - These sophisticated barbarian beast peoples of the Wrothgarian and Dragontail Mountains are noted for their unshakable courage in war and unflinching endurance in hardships. In the past, Orcs have been widely feared and hated by the other nations and races of Tamriel, but they have slowly won the acceptance of the Empire. Orcish armorers are prized for their craftsmanship, and Orc warriors in heavy armor are among the finest front line troops in the Empire.

Redguard - Th most naturally talented warriors in Tamriel, the dark-skinned, wiry-haired Redguards of Hammerfell seem born to battle, though their pride and fierce independence of spirit make them more suitable as scouts or skirmishers, or as free-ranging heroes and adventurers, than as rank-and-file soldiers. In addition to their cultural affinities for many weapon and armor styles, Redguards are also physically blessed with hardy constitutions and quickness of foot.

Wood Elf - The clan folk of the Western Valenwood forests. In the Empire, they are called "Wood Elves", but call themselves the Bosmer, or the "Tree-Sap" people. Wood Elves are nimble and quick in body and wit and their curious natures and natural agility make them good scouts, agents, and thieves, and there are no finer archers in all of Tamriel.

Here are the birth signs:

The Apprentice - Those born under the the sign of the Apprentice have increased Magicka, but also a weakness to it.

The Atronach - Those born under the sign of the Atronach cannot regenerate Magicka, but absorb the Magicka out of any magic cast at them. They are still damaged, of course, but can throw it back if they so desire.

The Lady - Those born under the sign of the Lady have increased stamina and are usually very beautiful.

The Lord - Those born under the sign of the Lord can regenerate health, but are weak to fire. Bad for High Elves.

The Lover - Those born under the sign of the Lover have increased agility and can paralyze others with a kiss.

The Mage - Those born under the sign of the Mage... well, it's the sign of the mage. What the hell do you think it gives you? Ponies?

The Ritual - Those born under the sign of the Ritual can heal themselves and turn undead. By turn undead, I mean they can scare undead things away, I don't mean they turn into zombies or skeletons or something.

The Serpent - Those born under the sign of the Serpent can poison others at a loss of their own health.

The Shadow - Those born under the sign of the Shadow can make themselves invisible. This invisibility wears off once you attack an enemy or cast a spell, however, and can only be used once a day.

The Steed - Those born under the sign of the Steed can move faster. Kinda useless.

The Thief - Those born under the sign of the Thief are harder to hit.

The Tower - Those born under the sign of the Tower can unlock doors magically and see farther than most.

The Warrior - Once again... self explanatory. You have more stamina and greater strength.

And here is my character sheet.

Name: Augustus Tello
Age: 37
Race: half breed
Alias(es): August
Class: Mercenary
Birthsign: the Warrior
Guild(s): none
Specialization: Combat
Primary skills: Blades, Heavy Armor, Block, Blunt, Restoration, Marksman, Destruction
Description: Long black hair that end in intricately designed braids. He also has a beard, rusty colored from the blood of many battles, that is forked. His eyes are blue and hardset, his canines are filed into sharper points, as are his nails. His armor is all intricately engraved steel except for his chestplate, which is Daedric in origin, a trophy from several fights with Dremora.
Bio: Augustus was born to a Cyrodiilic mother and a Redguard father. As such, he is naturally quite skilled with all combat-related items, but also possesses a shrewd mind, a silver tongue, and a strong will. From the very moment he could walk, his father trained him how to fight. That is, until the elder Tello was killed by an Argonian in the Dark Brotherhood. In a furious rage, Augustus charged the assassin and was nearly killed if not for the nearby town guard who had happened to hear the ruckus. Ever since, he has had an extremely deep hatred of the Dark Brotherhood and their evil Night Mother.

When Augustus came of age, he joined the Imperial Legion and still describes it as the most fun of his life. He participated in a campaign that went deep (a relative term) into the Black Marsh, fighting bandits and Argonians all the way in and all the way out. This gave Tello a grudging respect of the Argonians and the Black Marsh, and he loves fighting there. In his mind, it is pure warfare, uninhibited by political interference. It is simply you and your opponent trying to survive by killing the other.

Honorably discharged from the Legion at the age of 24, Tello joined a company of mercenaries that specialized in defending people and siege warfare. Because of this, he and his outfit were hired to be the bodyguards of many a general, giving Augustus valuable incite into how battles folded out. This, combined with his born knowledge of strategy, has proved extremely helpful in his many battles.

However, the man is not without his weaknesses. He has a soft spot for cheap women, cheap booze, and skooma and is typically found with a pouch of moon sugar and a pipe. He thinks he deserves to light up whatever he wants, reasoning he's shed enough blood for Tamriel that it should be justified.

Because of the Empire's recent invasion of Akavir, and the lack of suitable ports in the Black Marsh, Augustus went to Morrowind to seek fame, fortune, and to get some helpers to help deal with some loose ends and hopefully even fight some of the Akaviri warriors.

[Ender]

Fine looking RP.

*stamps approved on it*

[kongurous]

Fine looking RP.

*stamps approved on it*

See? Ender approves.

Now join.

[Nickodemus]

O woa and behold a stamp of aproval comes from Ender.... How could we go on with out him..... <dripping>


I am still thinking on this one. <shrug> maybe, although i do not know anything about the story world.

[Vhaeraun]

Name: Ellath Orllarh
Age: 120
Race: Argonian
Alias(es): Shadow
Class: Assassin
Birthsign: The Tower
Guild(s): Leader of Dark Brotherhood
Specialization: Stealth
Primary skills: Blades, Alteration, Illusion, Security, Sneak, Light Armor, Marksman
Description: 5'2" 130lb. Pale red scales with a light green hue. Wears black leather armor with a black cloak. Short sword on his left hip, hand crossbow on his belt in the back with a quiver of bolts on his right hip.
Bio: Ellath grew up in the Black Marshes with his father. He never knew his mother. When he was 23, his father died, and Ellath was left on his own. Not knowing what else to do, he left to Tamriel to try his hand in making something of himself.

Arriving in Tamriel, he was soon noted for his skill in thievery. Thus, the Dark Brotherhood took a keen interest in this newcomer to the scene. Not wanting anyone to intrude on their business, they set out to murder this new Argonian.

4 assassins later, the guild gave in and offered Ellath a position. Taking it graciously, he started out as a lowly thief. As time went on, however, he got better and better, and soon began hireing himself out as an assassin. Using his skills at thieving, he quickly became infamous for his attacks. Raising steadily through the guild, he soon killed the leader when he was second in command so he could assume control of this guild.


How's this, kong? btw, I just started playing Oblivion and I never beat Morrowind, so I dunno much about the geography.

[kongurous]

Two issues, that's all, Vhae.

http://img189.imageshack.us/img189/3340/ta18jq.jpg That's a map of Tamriel. The Septim Empire rules all of it, but rules the Black Marsh in name only because only the Argonians can survive deep in the Marsh.

Second, there are only a few guilds in all of Tamriel. The Fighters Guild, the Mages Guild, the Thieves Guild, the Dark Brotherhood, and the various cults across the land, dedicated to the pantheons of the different regions. But then again, Argonia is a strange place so more guilds could be allowed, or an extension of the Dark Brotherhood/Thieves Guild could exist.

[iHawk]

Name: Orethis Numeanor (or-eth-iss New-may-nor)
Age: 29
Race: Wood Elf
Alias(es): Long Arm
Class: Adventurer
Birthsign: Atronach
Guild(s): N/A
Specialization: Combat
Primary skills: Spear (yes I know it's not in Oblivion, if that means I can't have it I'll redesign my character), Acrobatics, Athletics, Light Armour, Alchemy, Armourer and Blade.

Description: Orethis has long black hair that is unkept and usually dirty, his face is long and narrow with slim lips and a slightly hooked nose. His eyes are a dark green in colour and seem to be the only civilized thing about him. He wears a chainmail cuirass, with leather gloves, pauldrons and boots, his prized possetion is an old Dwemer Halberd that he found when he was poking around an old ruin. In case he finds himself in a confined space Orethis also carries a steel shortsword, for upkeep (of himself and his equipment) he carries an armourer's hammer, mortar and pestle (he finds ingredients as he needs them).

Bio: Orethis was born in Morrowind, he grew up in the city of Balmora where he was pressured from an early age to join one of the two guilds in town and bring honour to his family (his family, like many knew of the Thieves Guild but never spoke of it). It might of been because of this presure that Orethis left ome one day to "seek his fourtune", for whatever reason he left and with his Father's spear he began traveling through Morrowind fending for himself.

He lived fairly well, having picked up alchemy from his mother and fighting from his father's Hunting trips, he was able to forrage for food and cure common ailments. One night when poking around in the Bitter Coast region he was ambushed by a group of bandits and beaten badly, when they had taken everything of value they left Orethis for dead, bleeding face-down in a swamp. He woke up a few days later in the fishing town of Gnar Mok, where he learned he was found by a traveling merchant who brought him to town where Orethis was nursed back to health.

Orethis learned here that there's no such thing as a simple good deed among merchants and the moment he was better the merchant asked a
favor: There was a small Dwemer Ruin to the North of Gnar Mok, it was said to be called "Aleft" and the merchant wanted Orethis to enter this ruin, and bring back some artifacts. Since the man had saved Orethis' life, he agreed and with a borrowed Steel longsword and leather cuirass he entered the ruins.

He found most of the Dwemer "creations" to be either inactive or damaged from previous adventurers, he tried to avoid them but was forced to fight a few which he dispatched, suffering only minor wounds. He looted many crates, desks and chests until he could carry no more, and left the ruins again, following the same route so that he may avoid more conflict. He couldn't care less about the old coins, or peices of armour, but he did find an old Dwemer Halberd which was too rich of a prize to surrender, so he hid the weapon in a rotting tree and returned to town.

The merchant was pleased with the haul and let Orethis keep the blade, and offered to give him a heafty sum of gold if he were to loot a Daedric
ruin to the south, but Orethis declined, as he wan't stupid enough to enter a Daedric ruin. At least not at that point in his life. He ended up retrieving his Halberd, and continued venturing to the north, and through the years even spent a few months in Solstheim (a place which he hopes to never return). He's currently living just outside of Sadrith Mora and visits frequently to barter with local merchants.


I hope this reaches your standards kong, and I also hope that you'll overlook the lack of Spear-weapons in Oblivion :D

[kongurous]

This is prior to Oblivion, so spear-based skills apply. Besides, a halberd is a spear with an axehead, pretty much an axe with range.

[BIGDB]

Name: Ma'Jekosiit
Age: Late Twenties
Race: Cathay, of the Khajiit
Alias(es): Jack
Class: Rogue-Mage
Birthsign: The Thief
Guild(s): Associate of the Mages guild, not in good standing.
Specialization: Magic
Primary skills: Hand-To-Hand, Destruction, Alteration, Illusion, Mysticism, Security, Marksman
Description: Standing very tall at six foot eight, Jack is a very imposing figure to say the least. And the dark grays and blacks coloring his fur make his deep orange eyes glow like embers. Any and all scars are covered by his thick fur coat.
Bio:

Ma'Jekosiit was originally named Ja'Kasha, but his name was changed in his early teens. His new name means: One who is innocent, but frequents very profane places. He was given this name for various reasons, the most prominent being that he was once caught in a whore house, but was trying to bring religion to the whore he had paid to see.

The words used to create his name are considered very harsh insults in Ta'agra. And shortly after receiving the name from his elder brother, Ma'Jekosiit rebelled against his family's tight grip. Over the next few years Ma'Jekosiit tried to become a thief, and attempted several times to be involved in other, more heinous acts, he was always the scape-goat of the venture though, and ended up getting caught... Thusly his name stayed.

When he began to come of age physically, he became much more violent and ended up being imprisoned and sold as a slave to a Dunmer in Morrowind. The unnamed Dunmer suddenly disappeared three years later, as did Ma'Jekosiit. He popped up five years later and has been wandering around Tamriel for a few months now. He joined the Mages guild, and after only a few weeks received the rank of Associate. This is probably because in his early years, Ma'Jekosiit, then named Ja'Kasha, was found to be very gifted in the arcane arts. And even though he is Cathay, his physical strength was slow to develop. His mind had always been a strong point though, as far as puzzles and reading. Either way, one of Ma'Jekosiit's superiors caught him stealing an herb or two and expelled him.

Jake, as Ma'Jekosiit has come to introduce himself (his name is a disgrace), is done with the guilds and would much rather make his own money. He knows that the real reason he was expelled is that his skills in Alteration are almost unmatched, and his superiors were afraid to admit it... That and the fact that only an Orcish Warrior can match his physical strength. Jake is sick and tired of trying to live his life 'to the fullest', he'll be content with cooking his own meals and making his own shelter... No more borrowing from skooma dealers, or performing duties for guilds... No more of his homeland. Jake wants out. He plans to find his escape on the battlefields of Akavir.

Here's hoping everything's in order.

[Biohazard]

Name: Anadriira Sarablyl

Age: 19

Race: Dunmer/Altmer

Alias: Ana

Class: Dark Ranger

Birth sign: The Thief

Guild: Black Hand, Silencer

Specialization: Stealth

Primary Skills: Blades, Marksman, Mysticism, Alteration, Light Armor, Security, Sneak

Description: Anadriira has white hair, caused by a magical curse from a necromancer on her mother while Anadriira was in the womb. Her slanted eyes give her a slight oriental look, though their deep blood red color makes her look just frightening. Her skin is a yellow-lavender color, not tan for she rarely travels during the day. She wears the leather armor given to her upon entering The Dark Brotherhood. Over that she usually wears a black cloak and hood; her eyes have become sensitive to light from hardly being in it. She carries a perfectly sharp dagger, enchanted to drain the life from whatever it strikes. She also carries a silver short sword, sometimes when in a combat situation she will draw both. On her back she carries a silver bow enchanted to do a bit of frost damage, lowering the function of whatever it strikes (leg, cant move it as well, arm becomes harder to lift and use). She usually carries, to accompany the bow, a quiver of about 30 steel arrows.

Bio: Anadriira Sarablyl was born on a ship, bound for Anvil from Skywatch. Her mother was poor and was hoping to be able to make a better life for her and her baby in Cyrodiil. Anadriira’s, father, a powerful Altmer necromancer enslaved her mother, took her to the isles, raped, and preformed wicked magickal experiments on her. On several occasions he purposely got her pregnant just so that he could remove the baby and perform tests on it. After years of this torture Anadriira’s mother got up the courage to fight back. He had left her alone for several days and she was regaining some strength, she hid her wooden spoon used to eat the slop he gave her for food. She managed to file it down to a point against the stone wall, when he came in a few days later she stabbed him in the eye and ran out of the cave as fast as she could. All the tortures left her with many physical deformities; because of this she could no longer find work. She managed to steal enough money to gain passage on a large ship, bound for Cyrodiil.

While on the ship a raging storm enveloped the surrounding seas. It was during this storm, under the watchful eyes of the Thief, Anadriira was born. She was screaming and crying as a healthy baby would, but she was different. Her skin was a strange combination of yellow and purple, he eyes were a deep evil color, resembling those of a Daedra, and she was larger than a normal Dunmer baby as well. The mother got to name and hold her baby in her arms as she hemorrhaged and soon died. The priest on board, that helped deliver her, promised to take care of the poor child. As he was cleaning the blood and goop from her fragile body, the ship hit a sharp rock and a hole was pierced in the wooden hull. The frantic crew rushed towards the lifeboats, the priest, with the baby wrapped tight in his robes, managed to gain passage aboard the last one.

Morning, the crew of the little boat began to lose hope. Debris littered the surrounding sea area and bodies began to surface. The priest quietly sang a song to the fussing baby, but he knew that there was a slim chance they would be rescued. In a last test of faith the priest made for everyone on the little ship to join hands, they prayed that morning. They prayed with every fiber of their souls, the survivors say that The Nine answered their prayers that day; others say it was a darker force, for the next day, land was in sight.

Not much is known about what actually happened on that small island. What is known is that the passengers of the boat arrived on the island and were systematically killed one by one, no one knows by what, or by whom. It has been said that Anadriira met Sithis on that island, it has also been said that she met the Night Mother. It has also been said that a group of pirates came and raised her. Anadriira doesn’t speak of the island, one survivor said that the island didn’t exist and that it was merely a figment of a crazed man’s imagination.

After several months, Anadriira found her way into a black veiled basket at the doorstep of the listener himself. Since the Black Hand ‘doesn’t exist’ rumors were circulated that Anadriira was the reincarnation of The Night Mother. Perhaps this is the reason that the listener took her in and gave her to the leader of that cities Brotherhood where she was placed with a member, to live in their home unknowing of what awaited her when she came of age. Whatever the reason for him taking her in, when she came of age she was entered into the Dark Brotherhood officially to see what she was made of. She easily out skilled every single member of that city’s Brotherhood, she was the lead contract killer in the land. When she came of age the listener showed her into the world of The Black Hand, he told her of their purpose, she was no longer in a Brotherhood, she was part of the Night Mother. She was to be the talon on one of the five fingers of The Black Hand. Throughout the course of her time in The Black Hand she visited many places, but none intrigued as much as the prospect of Akavir did. Therefore she decided that she would go there, and she would revel in killing a member of a race she had never before seen.

[kongurous]

Alright folks, later today I'll start this up (assuming Vhae can do the edits I asked for).

[Vhaeraun]

Second, there are only a few guilds in all of Tamriel. The Fighters Guild, the Mages Guild, the Thieves Guild, the Dark Brotherhood, and the various cults across the land, dedicated to the pantheons of the different regions. But then again, Argonia is a strange place so more guilds could be allowed, or an extension of the Dark Brotherhood/Thieves Guild could exist.
Changed to Dark Brotherhood

[Biohazard]

I know I may get bitched at because Im nit picky, but you cant really be leader of the 'Dark Brotherhood' cause that's kinda the Night Mother, but you can be the leader of a certain city's chapter of the Dark Brotherhood...kind of like there is a leader for each of the different fighter's guilds across Tamriel thats basically how the DB works...so if you want you should specify which city...but ya like I said Im just nit picky ><

[Dusty]

Is it to late to join? I had a few questions about the caracter rules but I want to know if its still open.

[Spartan-II]

He could be the Listener, but that would require constantly going back. Same with being in the Black Hand, or being a Silencer. =\

[kongurous]

Is it to late to join? I had a few questions about the caracter rules but I want to know if its still open.

OOC: It ain't too late.

I slowly opened my eyes, snapping awake from a short snooze. The visibility, however, is still barely describable; a haze of smoke, both from tobacco and... other substances, fills the air and assaults my nostrils and I'm sure it burns everyone else's nostrils as well. Being a seasoned bar hopper, this troubles me none. In fact, the smoke adds more flavor to my ale, which was oddly enough barely touched before me. From what I saw when I came in and what I can see now, the table is made of oak and quite weathered from extensive use. I can't tell how my chair is, and I don't particularly care either. As long as the barkeep doesn't care about my skooma, I'm happy.

People wheeze and cough and drink. Some of them talk, but I can't see faces due to the lack of windows and the presence of only two torches in the whole place. I sigh, barely audible, and send more smoke from both my lungs and my skooma pipe. I find my short stack of gold on the table and play with the coins as people come and go, with enough smoke to fill a fire pit escaping the tavern with every opening of the door.

After waiting a short time, I peek into my coat. Around my neck is an enchanted clock, a temporary gift from a business partner. It glows so I can clearly see it, and it indicates the time is nearing five in the afternoon. I have a business associate, an Imperial recruiter, coming in from Mournhold. I'm in Necrom, so this was obviously either a worthy trip, or a very expensive one, both of which benefit me because then my client gets what he wants, which means payday for ol' Augustus Terro.

I stand up from my place, find the door, and step out into the city streets, my skooma pipe still smoking. The city streets of Necrom are organized much like Vivec. In fact, if you compared to the two cities, you wouldn't find a different except that there isn't a moon hanging over the city. I turn towards the western city gate, and join the throngs of people moving towards it. The docks are on the west side, leading to a natural harbor which is a center for trade. I'm not going to the boats, my client said he'd arrive from the west.

Sure enough, an Imperial battlemage riding a black horse, flanked by House Indoril guards, is riding through the crowd. He dismounts at a street corner and drifts in different directions until I squeeze the clock and he looks in my direction. He slowly approaches me, glancing side to side.

"Can we find a more private place?" he asks nervously.

"The street is fine. No-one's going to care."

"Fine, fine. Now, I hear you have four mercs for sale. What's the price? I have ten thousand drakes."

"Oh, you're gonna need more than that." I say smugly.

"...What?'

"The price is 5,000. Each. 20,000 drakes or you only get two mercs."

"That's absurd! I could get a small army with 20,000 drakes and you're blowing me off for four men?" He shouts.

"I'm selling you the best fighters you're going to get in this entire province. I'm not gonna give you even one for any less than 5,000. Their lives are far too important, if you want to get cheap mercs then go back to the Imperial City. Go to Skyrim, or even High Rock. Necrom's my turf, giving you cheap shit is not my business nor my intent." I say smoothly. This is all well-rehearsed.

"Alright, alright. You'll get 20,000 for your men. Take that skooma out of your mouth or I'll have you imprisoned." he growls, hands me a pouch of jingling coins, and skulks away. I'm suddenly the richest man in Necrom, and I want to share the wealth.

OOC: This has now officially started. You may use first or third person posting, I don't care. One of you will bump into me, and the first person to PM me will be the person who bumps into me. And BIGDB wins.

[Dusty]

Name: Thor Foe hammer
Age: 35
Race: Norse
Alias (es): Alpha
Class: Hunter
Birth sign: The tower
Guild(s): Freelance
Specialization: Combat
Primary skills: Marksman, medium armor, block, blades, sneak
Description: Tall giant of a man. 6 foot 5 inches and 250 pounds. Has long blonde hair and a full beard. Wears chain mail armor with a steel shield. He will sometimes go with leather leggings to move fast. He wields an enchanted silver long sword that paralyzes his enemy for a certain length of time. He also carries cross bow with silver bolts.

Bio: Grew up in the harshest and most remote area of the island. He grew up learning how to hunt and live off the land. When he was 18 his village was attacked by a pack of werewolves. Only him and his older brother got away. After reaching an imperial fort he was taken in by the armorer. His brother became a heavy drinker and was seen leaving the fort one day. He hasn't been heard from since.

Wanting to get away from the memories he joined the imperial legion. After several tours and a commendation by the emperor's ministry for bravery under fire he left and became a hunter for hire. He specializes in exotic and big game, mainly werewolves and other magical creatures. After several good contracts things died down.

Now he sits in some forsaken bar. Waiting for the next challenge to come knocking.

[Dusty]

Sorry fro double post some freakin wierd lag))

[kongurous]

OOC: Eh... ceasar, PM me your sheet and we'll work it out.

[Biohazard]

Anadriira sat in the bar, her hood and cloak pulled tightly. She despised these places, too many people, but they were good for working out contracts. Her bow was laid out on the table the short sword next to it. Her hand never strayed far from her dagger; she didn’t know who was going to appear from the shadows.

As if on perfect cue a familiar voice made itself heard just behind her, “The time has come for you to leave these shores, my child. I have left your orders in dead drop fourteen, may Sithis guide you.”

Ana felt the presence disappear; she sat for a few moments, without speaking. She stood and put her short sword on her belt and slung her short bow over her shoulder. She pulled her cloak and walked out of the smoke filled tavern.

The sun was bright; people bustled to and fro, going about their business. She moved around to the back of the tavern where a barmaid dumped some garbage in a rubbish bin. Ana lingered until the maid went back inside the tavern. She lifted a hand and whispered some inaudible words and the trap doors leading to the tavern cellar slowly opened. In the blink of an eye Ana was down, moving through the dark cellar.

She emerged from the stairwell into the large dark room, filled with barrels that contained watered down ale. She walked up to one of the barrels that had a marking carved into it. To the untrained eye it was merely a nick, but to the silencer it was a talon, to mark the presence of a dead drop. She moved the barrel aside and knelt down, she brushed away some dirt. What was revealed was a small box; she dug it out of the ground and opened it. She pulled out a small yellowed sheet of paper and placed it in her belt pouch.

She replaced the box and the barrel; she walked up the stairwell and emerged into the bright sunlight, forcing her to pull her hood even more over her face. When she turned the corner towards the front of the tavern she noticed some guards trotting away on horses with a man holding a pipe smiling widely with a fat pouch in his hands.

[BIGDB]

Ma'Jekosiit - Rogue Mage
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I hate traveling on boats...
Someone started puking over the rail.
At least I don't have to deal with that, I suppose. Still smells.
Ma'Jekosiit blew the smell away from him in disgust and walked to the other end of the ship. The front of the ship was wet, and the air was cold. But the dark blue mage's robe, and Ma'Jekosiit's fur, kept him warm. The sun was just now rising, and the air was crisp. The ocean air swept by gently as the shoreline came into view. City lights were just now being put out... The Khajiit watched them to the last.
Today will be a good day.

The ship finally docked and the call to unload was shouted out by some Nord. "Thank you for the gift." Said the same Nord as Ma'Jekosiit passed. He was referring to the hist which Ma'Jekosiit had used to pay with.
"This will sell well here!"
"Just make sure that you do not chew on it yourself."
"Well of course not! Certainly not!"
" . . . "
"Why should I not?"
"It would be very unwise."
The nord gave a slight 'hmph' and walked back into the ship, staring at his small treasure. Ma'Jekosiit turned around and examined the port district of Necrom. Quite old from the looks of things, but the denizens seemed to be anything but the wise-old-sage type. Sneaky looking characters were roaming about, attempting to look casual. Much bad business is here... Makes traveling easier, but sleeping much more difficult. The cat-man sniffed the air and began traveling to the west, he smelled bread baking. He smelled many other things, but the bread was pleasant, so he focused on that. Several minutes and a couple of dark alleys later, Ma'Jekosiit was buying a warm loaf of rye and asking for the nearest pub and inn.

"Go about five blocks north of here and you'll see the place, I can't remember the name of it for the life of me though... I try not to pay attention to places like that. You know there was a fight down there recently and I was quite worr-"
"Yes ma'am, thank you for the bread." Ma'Jekosiit was already walking away from the Breton woman. She was still talking, but he wasn't listening...
She'll probably think me rude... Oh well. I've better things to do then stand around and talk... Well... Actually... Wait why am I-
Ma'Jekosiit was falling. He extended his hands and pulled his legs in, and proceeded to vault from his hands back to his feet. There was a man on the ground, half choking on a skooma pipe. "'Th'fuck do you think you're doing!?"
"I'm very sorry sir. Here... Will you allow me to-"
But the man was already back up on his feet, examing his pipe to make sure there was still some skooma in it.
"Awe hell... Now you've got me pissed."
"Sir, I'm sorry... I did not mean to."
"Shut the fuck up and let me hit you..."
The man threw a punch, which Ma'Jekosiit blocked.
"Sir, I do not wish to-"
He threw another punch, this one landed squarely on the Khajiit's jaw.
"I believe you have made a mistake, sir." Ma'Jekosiit grabbed the next punch, claws extended, and twisted. The human male's left hand was now a bit worse for the wear.
"Damn!" The man recoiled and looked at his hand. "Oooh... You bastard." He pulled out a large knife. The two men stared at each other for a moment, the streets were quiet and people were staring. Ma'Jekosiit moved forward slightly trying to intice the man, but this human was obviously a skilled fighter... Ma'Jekosiit could tell by the way he was standing now. "Well come on then! Bring those claws to me, let me file them down for you." Ma'Jekosiit charge and received a deep puncture wound just below his left shoulder. The Khajiit let out a roar and tackled the human. They grappled on the stone for a few moments before the human let out a laugh. The guards were coming, they both knew what was in store for them if one of them didn't win soon. The human now had Ma'Jekosiit in some form of hold, pressing in on the Khajiit's wound. "The guards are coming, human."
"I know."
"They will take both of us to prison."
The man let small chuckle. "Quickly then, cat... Follow me." The human let go of Ma'Jekosiit's arm and head, and the Khajiit fell to the ground.

They ran away from the scene eastwardly and dropped into a pub inside one of the larger structures. "You're a damned good fighter, cat... Care to have a drink?"

OOC: Ok... I wrote this from last night, took a break, wrote more this morning, took a break, and finished it just now. Kong can pick it up from here. ;) P.S. if there's something you don't care for, just PM me of course.

[kongurous]

OOC: Changing posting styles yet again, as first person, present tense annoyed me greatly.

I looked over the Khajiit before me as we took a seat. I put a pinch of skooma in my pipe and lit it, inhaling and blowing out a smoke ring towards a barmaid, who shot a glare towards me. I smiled back, and turned back to the Khajiit. The mage robes on his body covered a great deal of his body, making it hard to notice anything that may have set him apart. There was a bit of grime and dirt from our fight, but he seemed otherwise to be in pretty good health.

"So, what brings you to Necrom? Surely the vampires would have scared you off." I said, taking another puff and hailing a different barmaid.

"The prospect of going to Akavir brought me over," the Khajiit began, and ordered flin as the maid came to take their order. I ordered greef, and the maid strutted off, intentionally shaking her butt at the two. I paid no mind, and looked to my... guest.

"Akavir, you say? I was thinking about going there myself. What's your name, friend?" I asked smoothly, digging the skooma out of my pipe and smashing out the embers.

"Call me Jack." he replied.

"That's an unusual name for a Khajiit, but I'll take your word for it. So, Jack, do you have a client lined up yet, or are you going to pay for a ride over and fight alone?" my eyes met his, and I was certain a glimmer in mine was apparent.

"Er... I'm looking for work," he began, resting his head on his right paw as the maid returned with our drinks. He took his, thanked the maid, and looked at me.

"Well, it just so happens that I've come into some money. You see, I'm a merc captain. I buy and sell mercenaries, but I'm one myself," I started, taking a swig of my drink. I leaned forward, and my voice dropped almost to a whisper, barely audible for even a Khajiit in a pub. "I've recently come into some money and I'm looking into going to Akavir to help the Emperor and his troops. I know every man has a price... I wonder what yours is."

"My price? I'd like to know your name before I take your money." he said in a whisper like mine.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. My name's Augustus, call me August." I replied

"Right then, August. I don't have a price." he stated flatly.

"I can see you aren't a mercenary. Well then... fine, what if I paid the expenses? Would I gain your spells?" I pleaded.

"I'd be more than willing to go and kill things for free, sir. How did you know I was a mage?" his look was perplexed yet seemed fake.

"Your robes." I said plainly, and sat back down and chugged the rest of my drink. Morrowind has some of the worst drinks I've ever had, I much prefer Esleweyr personally, which just added to the conversation's novelty.

"That... should have been obvious." he said meekly, looking away briefly.

"Well then, we're going to need more people to take on Akavir than just two. I'll pay for our rooms, and then tomorrow we'll get to advertising our business. Sound good?" I say, and offer my hand.

"Sounds good... friend." Jack replies, and shakes my hand.

OOC: Tag DB. If you don't wanna finish it up, I'll do it. UPDATE: Guess I'm doing it. tag DB

[iHawk]

(OOC) I may not be able to get a large post in tomorrow, but I'll at least get something in. I think I'll send Orethis to Necrom for the prospect of vampire hunting. If noone else posts I'l edit an IC post here. (OOC)

Orethis Numaenor
Sadrith Mora
Four Days Earlier

Orethis had been walking through the Telvanni city for a few minutes now and was enjoying the breeze that twisted through the organic mushroom-like buildings the Telvanni employed. Being roughly in the middle of town the wind had to pass through numerous shops and stalls to reach Orethis and always carried the sharp smell of herbs or the sweet smell of a baker's goods. He had been around Sadrith Mora for a few weeks now and it had begun to bore him. He consulted his memory of Morrowind's Geography and started thinking of where to go next.

As he thought he saw Wolverine Hall approaching on the Horizon.

"Well, there is that..." Orethis said to himself as he quickened his pace heading towards the fort.

He wandered around for a while, consulting his previous visits to the fort and eventually found his way to the Mages Guild, where he proceded to search for the Mage that could teleport him to the mainland.


*** Curent Day ***

It was a damp morning, Orethis had yet to find or do anything usefull since he had arrived and was beggining to see some faults in his plan for new adventure. He walked through the busy streets with his halberd over his shoulders like a yoke, not really paying attention to the worried pedestrians that glared as they were forced to walk around his blade. There was a surprising ammount of people up and about for the time of morning, it must have been only a meer hour after sunrise and the streets were already packed. Of course this might have been simply because after being alone for a while Orethis was un-used to groups of people, in any size. Either way he felt the need for a propper meal, so he walked into the nearest pub.

When he entered the pub there was enough smoke to fill a Dragon's den even though there were only a few patrons spread across the large room, Perhaps this isn't the place for a "Proper" meal afterall Orethis thought, but decided to take a seat at the bar anyway leaning his Halberd on the bar and hanging his traveling cloak over that. The barman nodded at him and grunted.

"What can I do ye' for?"

"Whatever's ready, I really don't care."

The Barman walked off relaying the order to whoever cooked in the back, and while he waited Orethis examined his new cloak. It was simple and brown, if one looked it over it was hard to tell it was only four days old as it was torn and frayed, with a few odd blood stains from hunting. A clatter on the bar drew his attention infront of him and he noticed a plate of what looked like eggs and fried... something, Orethis tossed a few coins across the bar to the Barman and began eating.

(OOC) I'm in Necrom, this would be the day after kong and BIGDB met up. One of you can meet me in the bar if you want, or I'll bump into you after another post or so. (OOC)

[kongurous]

OOC: Just so you lot know, Hawk editted in a post.

Vhae and ceasar have yet to post. Come on, folks, let's get this rollin'. All you need to do is get to Necrom.

[Dusty]

((Sorry I've been busy trying to think out a good post))


I sit at the bar nurseing a cup of Brandy. The smokey old tavren was my favorite becuase of its usally quiet crowd and the drinks weren't lethal, usally. I had lifted the half full cup to my lips when the door opens.

With out even turning around I can tell that the person was mad, armed, and drunk. I sit my tin cup at just the right spot of me to see evreything. There was a large man with leather leggings, shirt, and boots. His hair was long and greasy, almost hideing his face behind it. His teeth were rotten and looked on the verge of crumbling. In one hand he held a jar of some drink. In the other a a dagger.

Without saying a word he walked with a limp over to a young women proably 21. "You think you can just run away from he girl?" He hisses grabbing her arm before she can run. "Your hurting my feelings now Joanny."

"Let me go! I hate you! I should never have married you!" she cries struggleig to pull away. Repostioning my cup to get a better angle I see that no one else was going to stop him.

"I'm going to put my foot up you you little witch!" He screams. Evreyone else in the bar ducked there heads. Sighing I stand up and turn around torwards the table. "Get out," I say. Quietly, but with force.

The man looks up then turns around. "ah look a little hero. Comeing to this girl's rescue? Maybe you just want a piece of this slut," he says pointing his dagger at me. I look him in the eye as he slowly makes his way toward me. He does a bad twirl with the dagger. "You like tricks boy?" he ask.

He lifts the knife about to slash. In one movement I send my fist into his chin and grab the knife out of his hand. He stumbles back into a chair knocking it over. I step over and then twirl the knife between my fingers then toss it in the air and catch the blade with my palm. "Shouldn't lay with knives," I say. Then knock him on the bridge of his nose with thehand piece. He crumbles to the ground. Wether from the blow or his own drunkeness I'm not sure. I step over his slumbed figure and put three coins on the counter. "Sorry for the mess."

Stepping out into the rutted street I look at the dilapdated shacks ans ghettos along the street. God I hate this town I think to myself. I slowly begin towards the bussines part of town. Maybe theres was some politican looking for a merc I muse. All I know is I want out of here.

[Vhaeraun]

Vhae and ceasar have yet to post.
I'll throw a post in later today. I've had a fairly busy few days, and atm I'm taking some free time I have and playing Oblivion (Just got welcomed into the Blades ;D).

So, expect some edittage around 7'ish.

Ellath sat in the stands in the arena. He enjoyed coming here, if only for the picking prospects. You see, many betters were drunk, and so were less likely to notice the sudden change in weight in their pockets. But Ellath also enjoyed watching the bouts. So, it was a win-win.

Using the old bump-pick routine, Ellath stumbled into one of the richer looking attendees, slipping his hand into the tunic and pulling out a handsomely sized pack. Bowing low, Ellath spoke humbly, "My apologiesss, ssir. I pray ye aren't injured, hmm?"

The man grunted and said, "Get away from me, filthy lizard."

Not waiting for a second invitation, Ellath turned away, slipping the bag into one of his volumptious pockets. A smirk appeared on his face as he continued his rounds for the day.


Slipping into his quarters a few hours later, Ellath emptied his pockets. He pilfered 6 packs, netting around 500 gold. But, that wasn't what interested him. One of the packs had a piece of parchment. After reading it, he smiled widely. He was going to Necrom, for they were looking for hunters for Vampires. Such a call would draw in many worthy targets for stealing. Ellath was going to hit it big...




(OOC: So I didn't get into Necrom, but I said I was going. I'd make a longer post, but I'm about to be heading to bed, so I gotta cut it a bit short. Feel free to get me into Necrom. Let's say that this post took place at the same time as kong and DB met, so I'll get into Necrom 2 or 3 days after?)

[kongurous]

As soon as I awoke, I had a blade drawn. Wherever you found mercenaries looking for work, you found lots of money flowing. This money usually attracted people who were too cheap, stupid, or lazy for honest work and instead they choose to steal from others. I can't stand thieves, and I don't know about you, but ever since I was robbed blind several years ago, I always kept a short stabbing weapon in case they thought I was a good target.

I put on my chest plate and put on my every day clothes over all of that, keeping a short steel sword hidden in my clothes and my stabbing knife. I slowly opened my door, looked down the hall both ways, and then walked into the hall after deciding nothing was going to stab me. The hall was drab, undecorated except for a few lights and a plant from Vvardenfell. Necrom was such a boring place.

I knocked on the Khajiit's door loudly to wake him up, and then walked downstairs into the tavern part. I took out my skooma pipe, dropped a pinch of skooma into the pipe, and lit it. The aroma filed the air and the thick smoke filled my lungs, filling me with a sensation of pleasure mixed with the feeling of a slowly deteriorating body.

I went up to the bar, stamped out the burning skooma, and ordered a mug of iced water and a breakfast with a lot of meats. I ate slowly, listening to the other patrons of the tavern and letting my body wake up. One of the other people, who resembled an Argonian just seemed... not and obviously hungover, stood up quickly from his seat and started shouting.

"I knew the Empire's armies would fail! The Akamal is sweeping them!" the man shouted. I stood and walked over to him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Exactly, what is this 'akamal'?" I asked.

"You don't know? Oh right, you aren't from Akavir. It's a name we gave to a drought that comes across the Tsaesci lands around this time of year. Your emperor sailed right into it, and last I heard, he was suffering." the man replied.

"How would you know about Akavir?" I eyed him suspiciously.

"I'm a Tsaesci myself. I know my own homeland."

"I took you for an Argonian myself. I hope the Akamal isn't over by the time I get there, it's been a long time since I was last in Hammerfell."

"Pah, you Tamriels are all alike. Too stupid to realize your own folly. Leave me, mercenary. I have things to do today." and with that, he left the tavern, leaving me with a smirk on my face.

Today, I thought, would be a good day.

[Biohazard]

Ana stepped through the threshold of a random tavern she happened to pass. She had been out most of the night stepping lightly in and out of homes, pilfering valuables. A particularly nice amulet caught her eye whilst she was in the home of a khajit. Its magical glimmer was visible despite being wrapped in a throw cloth. She took the amulet, cloth and all and stuffed it in her pack before moving on to the next house.

When she closed the door to the tavern immediately she heard the harsh voice of an argonian and the rasp of a man who long abused skooma.

“How would you know about Akavir?" the skooma addict, who appeared to draw his looks from Hammerfel and Cyrodiil, was giving the lizard a suspicious look.

“I'm a Tsaesci myself. I know my own homeland." The lizard, who previously had looked like an oddly shaped argonian, revealed himself to be a native of the distant Akavir.

"I took you for an Argonian myself. I hope the Akamal isn't over by the time I get there, it's been a long time since I was last in Hammerfell,” the half-bred skooma addict spoke words that struck a chord in Ana that hadn’t been struck in awhile. She smirked at his words; she too had thought the lizard was of the Black Marsh.

"Pah, you Tamriels are all alike. Too stupid to realize your own folly. Leave me, mercenary. I have things to do today,” the lizard turned and walked towards the door, shoving Ana out of the way. She resisted the urge to draw her dagger and stab him in the base of his neck. She walked up to the grinning man, who had taken a seat at the bar, in front of some food. She slipped her hand in his pocket and pulled out a pouch of skooma.

“Hey you-” the man started.

“You realize,” Ana cut him off, “That this will kill you?” With that she dropped it next to him and continued, “Are you interested in going to Akavir?”

*ooc: tag Kong*

[BIGDB]

Feeling pain like this was so much better than using a knife... True self mutilation. Ma'Jekosiit sunk his claws into his left arm again and retracted them. He was watching the blood crawl slowly across his fur when someone knocked on the door.

"Damn... Time to be going." Ma'Jekosiit grabbed a cloth from near by and dipped it in the handwashing bowl in order to clean his self-inflicted wounds. The cut from yesterday had already scabbed over, it itched a great deal as most puncture wounds do, but he was used to it. There was a very sharp smell in the air, mostly of garbage, but skooma was in the air as well. "Hmm. More than just a social smoker."

Ma'Jekosiit gathered up his things, made sure that there wasn't any blood on his fur, and walked out the door. He started walking down the first set of stairs toward the tavern portion of the inn, when a Bosmer bumped into him. "S'cuse me, sir. Sorry..." He had attempted to steal something from Ma'Jekosiit... The thief had obtained a bonze ring. "Um, yes... I do believe you have something of mine, Bosmer."
"What, sir?" Ma'Jekosiit shot a bolt of lightning from his left hand and shocked the bejesus out of the Elf's hand. The man naturally dropped the ring and too busy cursing and nursing his wound to notice the ring float back into the Khajiit's pocket.

Ma'Jekosiit proceeded downstairs.

[kongurous]

"Well now missy. I think we've found a conversation!" I said. My baritone voice was doubly apparent as silence persisted somewhat after the Akaviri had left the tavern. "First off, I would like my smoking utensils back."

"Nothin' doin'," the... strange looking elf said with a frown and condescending squint in her eyes. "This is about Akavir. We will keep it about Akavir."

"Fine, fine," I began. I looked into her eyes for added effect. The eerie red color reminded me of a Dremora. "Yes, I am interested in going to Akavir. I've already recruited a Khajiit mage to assist me. I have plenty of drakes if you so desire to join us."

"That would all depend," she replied. The look she gave told me she meant business. I leaned in closer, those demonic eyes never leaving mine. "What expenses would you cover?"

"Food. Board. The ride over, the ride back if we survive."

She gave a low whistle in sarcastic admiration. "All that for me?"

"Hardy har har. It is my personal opinion that everyone has a price. I ask myself... how does 5,000 drakes sound?"

"Exactly what I was thinking."

"By the Nine, you're expensive. Might I ask your name?"

"Er... you can call me Ana."

"Alright then, Ana. I'm Augustus Tello, call me August. I'll pay you when I get a few more people to join."

"I expect to be paid. My services are worth it."

"I'm sure they are, miss. I'm sure they are."

[Dusty]

The sun was already up when I felt my first pangs of hunger. Better get something to eat, no one wants a starved fighter I decide. I decided to try a new tavern I had heard of.

The streets were already full of people going about there lives. After dodgeing around a wagon full of cloths I find the door I want. Stepping inside I find it already crowded. Evreyone looked up when I stood in the door then hastely looked away. Well evreyone except for that man and girl at the table.

I grab a seat at the bar and order 3 eggs, and sevral Nord styles of meat. This clearly was one of the more expensive diners in town. I hear whispering comeing from the table behind me, "Thats the guy who threw Barda out of thr Tavern becuase he attacked his wife."

"Get real Barda? That guys meaner then any beast you'll find in all of Morriwind."

"They say he is a hunter. Very skilled. He supposeldy killed a pair of were wolves by himself!"

I sigh. Best to let the rumors be. Its not like there were going to hurt anybody. Just then my food arrives. Then as I was takeing my first bite a shadow falls over my plate. I turn around to see that man who hadn't been so quick to stop looking at me. "Can I help you? Stareing isn't polite you know," I say.....

*Tag kong*

[Biohazard]

Ana stood slowly from her seat and moved out of the tavern, she had been up for 48 hours straight and yet she still did not feel the need to sleep. Instead she decided to go to her fence and get rid of some of her plunder, as well as to figure out what that amulet did. As she rounded a corner she ran into a group of men, talking about their recent adventures.

One of them apparently had run into a group of bandits and killed them all single-handedly. This was obviously a lie for the man telling the story could not have stood over five and a half feet high. Apparently these bandits were nearly giants that wielded weapons as big as tree trunks.

“Well look at what we have here,” one of them said as he turned his head and saw Ana.

“Looks like we had an eaves dropper,” another one said, reaching for a dagger.

“We don’t like it when people be dropping eaves,” an Argonian said he moved towards Ana.

“I don’t think you want to do this,” Ana said, quickly moving her hand to her blade.

“I think we do!” the lead one said lunging towards her. Ana drew her blade and swiftly parried a strike from a dagger. She grabbed his forearm and slammed the pommel of her blade into the man’s arm, fracturing the bone. He winced in agony as he stumbled and fell to the ground, clutching his injured arm.

“Little witch!” the Argonian cried as he lunged at her with a bastard sword. Ana ducked under the blade and kicked forward; foot connecting with his gut, the air pushed out of his lungs, the man doubled over. Ana then looked at the little man holding a dagger, using the psychic motion spell, Ana sent the mans dagger flying into the ground. Using the spell again she lifted the dagger and sent it flying into his neck.

“The rest of you, be happy I have spared your lives,” Ana said. She grinned as she walked towards the shop her fence resided in, she had already taken a life, and today would be interesting.

[kongurous]

"Can I help you? Staring isn't polite," the Nord said to me as I took a seat next to him.

"I'm well aware of what is and what isn't polite. Listen, are you interested in work? Maybe some mercenary jobs, a good little bonus?" I said, looking at him and using the special body movements my mother had taught to use on Nords so long ago. I mentally prayed that they still worked.

"Perhaps. What did you have in mind?" he replied. I ordered two mugs of mead, and placed a stack of one hundred drakes on the bar.

"I have a lot of money. Everyone has their price, and I believe I can match yours. My offer is 3,000 Septims for you to help me and my associates enact a small-scale invasion of Akavir. All expenses will be paid by me. The ride over, the ride back assuming we live. Tell me, sir. What do you say?"

I smiled warmly as our drinks arrived. I chugged my mead down to the last drop, placed the stack of drakes into the Nord's hands, and stood up. Keeping my undoubtedly fake looking smile flashed, I lightly patted my bulging pocket and winked suggestively.

"If you have any questions, I'll be in the corner, having a smoke. Let me know what you think." I said, patting his shoulder, and walking off to the corner, putting a pinch of skooma in my pipe and lighting it up.

OOC: tag ceasar342

[iHawk]

(OOC) I don't have much time for RPing right now. I'm still in it just might be a few days before I can post, but I'll make it worth it (I'll make the post go from where I first left off to wherever the story currently is). (OOC)

[Dusty]

I think it over. I already didn't like it becuase he uses those stupid moves that were supposed to make a Nord do anything. Ignorance, but I still need something to do I think. I sigh get up and head to the corner. I nearly gag at the smell of Skooma. "Alright. I'll do it for 6,000" I say. He looks up.

[kongurous]

OOC: Spartan, if you're gonna point an inaccuracy, please use the PM function. BI, please delete their posts.

"...six... THOUSAND!?!" I shouted, looking hard at the Nord. "You do realize I could buy a full set of daedric armor and a Daedric warhammer in the Summerset Isles for less than half of that, right? I could outfit a small army with six thousand, I'm not spending that much on someone who happened to beat up a spouse abuser."

I eagerly awaited his reply.

OOC: Not in the mood for a long post, nor am I in the mood to improvise dialogue. You've got the floor, ceasar.

[Dusty]

((Damn it I don't have the time for an involved post. I'll post it tomarrow whe I got some time. Lates))

[Dusty]

"Your not out fitting a small army though. That tells me you need good poeple. Good people arn't always cheap. You also gave 5000 to that chick that was in here earlier. So my price is 6000. Take it or leave it," I say. He glares at me. "I don't like you you know that?" he mutters, "Wait how did you hear me tell her 5,000?"

I smile at him, "I'm a hunter you know."

[BIGDB]

Ma'Jekosiit continues his slow decent down the stairs, but upon reaching the bottom he finds the whole tavern empty.

"Where the fuck did everyone go?!"

Ma'Jekosiit ran around frantically, ripping crates open and tearing at the walls trying to find someone, anyone. He runs outside and is met by the still silence of nature. Everyone has gone. He's all alone.

(OOC: OH DEAR CHRIST NO!! Jim! We're losing another one!)

[Dusty]

((I pmed kong. He told me to let it die :( it had so much potential))

[kongurous]

((I pmed kong. He told me to let it die :( it had so much potential))

OOC: Don't talk for me, please. As for the RP... if Vhaeraun would post, I'd be delighted and might just cook something up of my own *hint hint*

[BIGDB]

(OOC: For some reason, I've had a bad case of the "I don't give a fuck" syndrome lately, and every RP I post a charrie in I can never write more than 2 or 3 posts (Hence is why Dragon Wars hasn't gone anywhere, not to mention I have a bunch of shit I have to worry about atm, so yeah...) - From the "...please stand up" thread.

Yeah, well. Based off of that, I wouldn't bet the life of the roleplay on 'em. Love his talent, but I don't think we should hinder ourselves because of someone else's lack of participation. >.>

But it's your RP, so... Do as you will, I suppose.

EDIT: NO!!! Breathe damn you! Breathe!)