|
Post by Vicorva on Oct 18, 2009 15:38:47 GMT
OOC: Excuse me, Saffa is very well kept. She's just a naturally scruffy animal, like the runt of the litter. Blind people can still feel a greasy or tangled coat. IC: "Woo?" said Saffa, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she grinned at Ocato. He seemed rather unhappy about something, though, so she trotted back to her master, leaning against her legs a she sat down and gazing adoringly up at her master. Zhira was not as at ease as her companion. As Selinus drew near, she drew back ever so slightly, recoiling from the nearness of the imperial. "Is there something you require of me, m'lady?" came the voice. It was a very human voice, not unnatural in any way that she could discern. She took her time in responding."I'm not a lady, thanks very much. I worked to earn my finery, and an awful lot of blood it cost me, too," she responded, but without fire. Her face was pointing directly at Selinus, as surely as if she could see through the blindfold across her eyes. "I can't be doing with any witchery-,"She began, but her voice cut short. Her lips were set in an awkward line, pressed tightly together, and she did not explain why she had suddenly stopped speaking. Her eyes, invisible behind the scarf, could betray nothing of her thoughts. She only continued to sit facing Selinus, back straight, chin high, chest rising and falling with each breath. "Woo!" said Saffa. "Woo! Woo!"
|
|
|
Post by FC4 on Oct 18, 2009 17:44:14 GMT
OOC: Sorry, my apologies to her. However, Selinus may still feel inclined to groom her to a less scruffy look, one day. IC: Selinus nodded his head as she replied to his title for her. The woman did not immediately respond, and there was no pride or fire within her voice. Selinus swore he could feel her eyes bearing down on him through the blindfold, but it did not deter him. He was not afraid of this woman; but he was curious. "I apologize, then; but considering I know you not, I had figured 'm'lady' would serve better than calling you 'woman'. 'Is there something you require of me, woman' just comes off as a bit too rude for an Imperial Throne Room, don't you think?" There was a small trace of irritation and fire in his own voice, but he contained it well enough. Be happy I'm being polite, disabled mortal. But if you worked for the finery, then you must have been a warrior. If you continued such after your disability, I commend you. If you have not managed that, then you are just another common human to me. He thought with a mental snarl. Sometimes, the humble got on his nerves. "Now, if I might inquire, just what can't you be doing with any witchery?" Selinus carried on without waiting for a reply, watching her as she sat there as if stunned while he had talked. She was unmoving, lips drawn tight. His revealed mouth frowned, but his hidden eyes glistened with impatience. The suspense was unnecessary and bothersome for him. "Woo! Woo! Woo!" The dog cut in, to which Selinus' hood turned to gaze upon the animal. "I do not speak canine. Unless Kynareth and Julianos see fit to grant you speech for your master, I suggest you terminate your attempts." There was again a trace of irritation in his voice.
|
|
|
Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 18, 2009 18:42:43 GMT
A wry grin broke out over Will's features as he watched the dog dash about the Throne Room, amused by the sheer energy of the scrappy canine. There was an innocence, a complete lack of pretense, he couldn't help but admire from the animal. After all, a dog had no use for posturing, completely removed from the political arena of ranks and titles and formalities. It was an attitude Will could understand, perhaps even shared with the domesticated beast.
He followed the dog with his eyes as it made its way back towards its presumed owner, the Redguard woman he'd noted before. It was only then, however, that he noticed the woman wore a blindfold over her eyes; was it possible she was blind? He couldn't imagine a worse fate for a fellow Redguard; to be struck a blow that rendered them unable to fight. He could only hope if he ever suffered such an injury, he would be lucky enough to have it kill him.
He also noticed, however, that the woman seemed tense...uncomfortable. He hadn't been able to make out what she'd been saying, nor the reply of the robed man sitting before her, but he could hear the dog let out a series of 'woofs' at the figure before her master. Curious, and perhaps even feeling slightly protective of his blinded kinsman, Will made his way forward, eyes on a seat next to the woman.
"Hello there," Will greeted curtly, wearing a slight half grin as he took a seat, giving the blinded woman a comfortable cushion of distance. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything here." He shot a friendly glance at the dog, which was barking at the robed figure, and gestured for it to come towards him.
"Nice lookin' dog you got there," he told the woman, a pleasant tone to his voice. "Name's Will, in case you missed it earlier."
|
|
|
Post by Anticlere on Oct 18, 2009 19:38:20 GMT
The doors of the Throne Room opened once more; in walked Morris of Wayrest, looking rather irritated, followed by Richard, curiously looking around the large, lavish room.
Leading the life of a wanderer meant he didn't frequently stay at places better than roadside inns, so the majestic interior of the White Gold Tower did as much to impress him as the exterior when he first laid eye on it. The spellsword didn't, however, feel very comfortable in the hall; as with all such highly official places it dropped a shadow of restriction over everyone to step inside it.
No wonder the high ups are all like that. If I wasted my days away in such places, I'd go crazy too. Whistling silently, he couldn't help but feel impressed and rather intimidated by the whole room. 'Course the councillors are all probably used to all this by now, but then I wouldn't want to become used to it myself. Sets your bar too high and then congratulations, you've lost, welcome to the arrogant dick club.
"Esteemed Chancellor Ocato, another one of your invitees has made himself present. Allow me to introduce Richard du Blois." Being mentioned snapped Richard out of his considerations about the Tower; he responded by looking around, slightly confused, before realisation flashed in his eyes, manifesting itself as a bow, not as fluid as it could've been given the currently worn robe.
To be honest Richard felt a bit out of place; he was the only one here who was dressed as if expecting for a harsh winter to kick in any minute now. Of course the others invited weren't finely dressed either, but for some reason he felt a bit smaller than everyone else here... Perhaps it was that everyone else seemed older, not by ages but still, more experienced and more likely to treat him as an inexperienced idiot. He didn't know any of those people, but usually strangers didn't react well to him, particularly other adventurers or mercenaries who seemed to be lost in their world of no-nonsense.
And then there was that robed Imperial, standing by the blindfolded woman and a dog. Something just seemed... off about him. He'd only felt this way about a person once or twice, and usually they ended up proving themselves very powerful mages; Richard's way of spellcasting left him a bit closer to magick than most other self-trained mages. He imagined most other ordinary mages trained in magick could feel something like that as well around immensely powerful colleagues. Regardless, this monk-looking man felt like one.
The aged Altmer also looked somewhat familiar... Though having no idea why, Richard felt as if he may've seen him somewhere before. Not that odd, considering the amount of places I've been to. Maybe just some random encounter, or maybe it's just me. He was rather quick to shrug it off; after all, not like he felt the same way about this Mer as he felt about the 'monk'.
"So, err... Hello, Chancellor-man. And you other people."
By Mara this is awkward. Couldn't have made it worse, could I. Biting his lip silently, Richard glanced around the hall. Though he couldn't see his face, Morris was practically emitting waves of irritation; the spellsword wasn't pleased to note from the straightened back of his kinsman that this amount of irritation on his part could've resulted in a burnt piece of furniture or two, the fact his new councillor friend probably wasn't that kind of a mage if at all one doing little to calm him.
|
|
|
Post by Vicorva on Oct 18, 2009 20:47:24 GMT
OOC: Very kind of him. IC: "I apologize, then; but considering I know you not, I had figured 'm'lady' would serve better than calling you 'woman'," Zhira pursed her lips briefly; she nearly spoke, but Selinus had already moved on before she could get the words out. 'Is there something you require of me, woman' just comes off as a bit too rude for an Imperial Throne Room, don't you think?" ""Esteemed Chancellor Ocato, another one of your invitees has made himself present. Allow me to introduce Richard du Blois." The entrance was lost on the blind woman, who just added another name to her list. Zhira shook her head ever so slightly- she thought it was ruder to call her a good-for-nothing noble when she was a warrior of legend, but again, could not manage to get any words out before the bizarre, angry man continued on. "Now, if I might inquire, just what can't you be doing with any witchery?" She gathered her thoughts, thinking of how best to phrase her thoughts, when again, Selinus interrupted, this time with a cold anger visible in his words. "I do not speak canine," he said, and Zhira instinctively reached out to touch the dog seated at her feet. "Unless Kynareth and Julianos see fit to grant you speech for your master, I suggest you terminate your attempts." "So, err... Hello, Chancellor-man," came a voice, bretonic by the sound of it. "And you other people." Zhira wanted to greet this new man, but was caught up in the situation with Selinus. She had paled at Selinus' threat to her dog, and now she leaned forwards, somehow stopping before she hit Selinus in the face. "Woo?" said Saffa, but her howl-bark was quiet and subdued. She skinned the lips from her teeth briefly in warning, but her tail was firmly between her legs. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," came a voice. "Nothing important," Zhira replied, she did not remove her face from Selinus, as if he were her the sun of her universe. A terrifyingly close, burning hot sun. "Nice lookin' dog you got there," came the friendly voice once more. Now Zhira did turn to look towards the voice, her eyes not quite finding Will, and somehow removing her gaze from Selinus. Her lips twitched in a small, pleasant smile. "Name's Will, in case you missed it earlier." "I'll remember it," she promised. She bit her lip, then turned back to face Selinus- finding his eyes unerringly. "...I don't like witchery," she replied slowly. "Because I don't like witches. I don't like witches, because witches try and impose their will on others. Like dragons, or so I hear. Not," she added, "That it makes any difference to you." Her lips curved and then she bared her teeth at Selinus, but her heart was beating very fast. She hoped Will wouldn't leave. "Woo!" said Saffa, who was now enthusiastically grinning at Will, though occassionally turning back to keep an eye on Selinus and skin her teeth at him. "Saffa, shut up." OOC: Oooh, tension...
|
|
|
Post by Tom Bombadil on Oct 19, 2009 1:21:01 GMT
Borsalmas exerted himself to keep his attention detached from what appeared to be a 'fling', so to speak, between the cane-bearing man and the blind dog owner. From the perspective of Borsalmas, both of them were weird, and things in Tamriel that were weird were generally not the sort one would want to stick one's nose into very far. Instead, he simply nodded to Chancellor Ocato and set a course for one of the benches on the side of the room opposite that of the two oddities and dog.
He crossed the Breton with the sapphire amulet around his neck. Borsalmas was a quick judge of character; a first impression was likely to have repercussions for a very long time. Be that for better or for worse, Borsalmas, having heretofore felt to be far out of his element, judged Tyrol as he had judged Will: closer to his own class, and therefore a reason to ease his nerves about the current situation. He gave the Breton an amiable nod before proceeding to a suitable bench and taking a seat. His own entrance now over with, Borsalmas felt significantly more at ease.
Then Richard arrived. With this man's entrance, most of Bors's feelings of being the only 'average fellow' cleared away. Richard appeared to be just as awkward as he, and from this sense of shared discomfort, Bors took an instant liking to the Breton. Nodding to him, he spoke up. "Bors Tapynyalas. Welcome to the party, yeah?" he said with a half-smile and a note of jesting sarcasm in the latter phrase.
Borsalmas wondered who else would be coming. It seemed to be an eclectic group already - or an outright odd one, depending on one's judgment of normality. More importantly, he wondered when everyone else would be arriving. He was itching for some information from the chancellor, but he figured he wouldn't get any until everyone was assembled.
Leaning forward and folding his hands together, Borsalmas spoke his mind to the chancellor as politely as he knew how to do so. "So, how many of us have you rounded up, chance'ler? We expecting a good few yet?"
|
|
Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
|
Post by Fanchon on Oct 19, 2009 3:30:32 GMT
Although she couldn't tell the exact time of day due to the limited light which filtered through the high-up window of her dank cell, Shelby knew for sure that the time of her execution was nearing. Sighing deeply, she took a seat on the cold stone ledge which passed very poorly for a bunk. Off in the distance, she could hear the creak of the wrought iron dungeon door as it swung open on centuries old hinges, followed momentarily by the telltale sound of mailed feet descending the worn stone staircase.
All the things I've done and seen in my life, all the joys and tears... it all comes down to this. Death by a length of rope, administered by a smug little black hooded rat-faced invalid..., she thought bitterly. Sighing once more, she adjusted her position, moving around a bit of the filthy straw bedding.
Probably hasn't been changed in months. Would it be too much to ask of the divines that I be allowed a comfortable seat for my last few minutes?
As the ominous footsteps grew closer, her thoughts turned to the afterlife. Would there be a shining paradise, with her father waiting there with open arms? Or a foul pit of eldritch horrors, waiting to further punish her for a life full of thievery and murder? Perhaps there was nothing but cold blackness, and an eternity of nonexistence. Before she could ponder further, she was interrupted by the arrival of the jailor... and several very unexpected figures.
"Palace guards? What in the hell are they here for? If it's added security, then please thank the good chancellor for his flattery.", she remarked with a sneer, regarding them with a look of sheer contempt.
"Shut yer mouth, girlie.", the filthy jailor ordered with just the barest hint of a smile, exposing the blackened stumps of what were once teeth, "Someone wants ta have a word 'wit ye. I dinna know what about. I tries ta tell 'em a dead pirate bitch ain't worth nuthin' to nobody, but they's a bit insistent.", he continued, unlocking the door to her cell and stepping aside.
"If it's so Ocato can spit in my face before he hangs me, then tell him no thank you. I'd rather have you kill me here and now.", she said, standing and taking a defensive posture. She was completely outnumbered, and would probably only live long enough to smear blood on their nice white armor...
"Miss, please. There's no need for that.", one of the guards said, holding up his hands in a gesture of supplication, "The chancellor simply wishes to have a word with you. I highly recommend you come with us willingly. You'll be in better shape to listen to him if you do.", he continued, stopping only when she launched herself at him, hands reaching for his throat...
Pain. Her memory was still blurry, but it's all she could recall about the last few minutes before she'd blacked out. Sharp, heavy blows from mailed fists and plated feet, pounding and beating mercilessly until sweet unconsciousness embraced her. As her head cleared, she felt the manacles on her hands and feet biting into her flesh as someone roughly hauled her into a standing position.
"We're sorry about that miss, we truly are. But you'll hear what the chancellor has to say, like it or not. Now get moving. He doesn't like to be kept waiting, and we've wasted enough time with your childish antics.", a voice said as a hand from behind shoved her forward.
"Ohhhh.... alright.... if you guys have had enough then...." she slurred, grudgingly placing one foot in front of the other in her best attempt to follow them.
At least it's a few more minutes of sweet, sweet life
After a few minutes of agonizing movement prompted here and there by a good shove, she found herself entering into the throne room of the Imperial Palace. Peering about curiously, she was surprised to find a good many people around, as well as the chancellor himself.
Standing there, covered in filth and rags which barely passed for decent, she felt distinctly under-dressed for the occasion, whatever it may be.
Whomever coined the term awkward must have lived though something like this, she thought with amusement.
"The prisoner Shelby Brisbane, as ordered your excellency. She gave us a bit of trouble as expected, but appears lucid enough now.", the guard which appeared to be the leader said with a bow.
"It's Captain. Captain Shelby Brisbane.", she muttered.
"What was that?", one of the guards said quietly, giving sharp tug on her chains, causing her to wince in pain.
"Oh nothing..."
|
|
Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
|
Post by Cirith on Oct 19, 2009 15:02:50 GMT
with a long creak the heavy wooden door opened as captain James Morasi entered the small round room. In it he found several crates, cupboards and shelves filled with a variety of items one would find in the City watch Northern guard tower. in the center of the room was a table with four figures around it and surrounded by a tension thick enough to be cut. sitting at one end was a small Redguard man obviously from the waterfront in his cheap worn out clothes holding a bloody cloth on his forehead trying no to look at either the guards or the man sitting at the other end of the table whilst obviously fuming with anger. opposite of him was a man clad in robes that had seen better days and ext to him two long daggers sheathed and attached to a belt. both men had a guard standing next to them trying to figure out what to do with them.
Only when captain Morasi had closed the door did the robed man look up to see whom had entered, his expression was neutral and slightly irritated and quickly he returned to his previous position. "Pirit, what is this?" the captain asked one of the guards with a simple, neutral tone . "a small fight on the market, sir" he quickly replied "This man" he gestured to the Redguard "claims to be assaulted by the man sitting here next to me-" "Only because he tried to pick my pockets" the robed man interrupted without looking up "He tried to take my possessions so I tried to stop him from getting away with them" "You bloody maniac almost broke my arm and [censored] threw me into a brick wall!" the Redguard furiously snapped at the robed man who didn't seem any interested in the Redguard's opinion. "Oi, calm down you, we've already heard your side of the story you rat! keep quiet and we'll get you a healer" said the other guard standing next to the Redguard whilst pushing him back into his seat.
Piret returned his attention to the captain who just joined them and remarked "I'm sorry sir, i have no idea who is a fault here, our Redguard friend here already has been caught pickpocketing a few times so I believe the guy on that, but the force he used was a bit extreme, I don't really kn-" "Well just fine both of them, the Redguard for pickpocketing, and the Breton for the assault, if you excuse me I have to take this man with me for an important appointment"
with that said the Breton suddenly rose and took his goldbag, he rumbled through it for a few seconds before revealing two brightly shining jewels from it, a polished ruby with clean cut edges and an oval, smooth sapphire which both shone with enchanting beauty, the two guards looked confused from the captains response and the pickpocket only had eyes for the sparkling jewels on the table. "I believe that should compensate for the injuries of the lad and cover the fine as well. Sorry for the wait captain Morasi I will now accompany you to the palace" and with that they left the guards and Redguard behind, still dumbstruck with the odd string of events that just happened in that small, round room in the northern tower.
-------------------------
The two had remained quiet on their way though the loud streets of the market district and once they entered the circular graveyard leading to the Imperial palace the captain finally spoke to the robed man. "was that really necessary mister Cirith? It'd save a lot of trouble if you just keep to the law when within the city walls, especially here in the imperial City these things can't be tolerated. What the heck does the council want you here for anyway?" "I'm sorry but I don't believe they want me to tell you that, if you haven't been told you just have to accept that my young friend, besides, how long has it been since you left Chorrol? i always remembered you as the guard of the castle gates, and now i ind you as city watch captain in the imperial city assigned to take me to the imperial palace?" James looked with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look on his face "what are you talking about, I've been here in the imperial city for over twenty years now, I'm almost retiring from my job and you act as if I'm still the young guard of Castle Chorrol?" a surprised Cirith looked back at James Morasi after a short moment of mutual silence he responded "oh, I'm sorry, it must be my aging slower then you due to my ancestry, the years seem to pass quicker these days" the captain didn't reply and just looked at the robed man with many questions raised in his mind, but before he could ask something they were hailed by someone s they approached the steps up to the palace "Ah thank you captain for finding our guest" said a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes, from the top of the stairs Cirith was just walking on he had a very imposing appearance as he radiated an aura of authority "I am glad you could still join us mister Cirith, I am councilor Eldral" "...I am Cirith, Pleased to meet you councilor" Cirith replied with a slight hesitation. "Hmm, yes, if you would be so kind Mister Cirith, the others are waiting in the throne room"the nord said with a skeptical look on his face."Yes, sorry, please lead the way sir" Cirith quickly said as he noticed the nord getting displeased with Cirith's lacking social skills.
Quietly they proceeded toward the throne room where several others had already gathered. Cirith recognized none of them but two, he noticed, were of his kind, but the large variety in all of the people present left Cirith clueless on why as to they were summoned by chancellor Ocato. without saying anything he remained near the entrance, if they required him to do something he would wait for their request, no need to introduce himself yet he thought.
|
|
fantome
Novice
Moonlight becomes you....
Posts: 10
|
Post by fantome on Oct 19, 2009 21:24:16 GMT
Jo'Dar couldn't recall if she had ever been to the capital but if she had, it must have been ages ago. She wandered about the streets for some time before locating the right one. And then there were the doormen to contend with.
"Look, I'm telling you I have an invitation from Chancellor Octo....Opto....Ocato, whatever the man's name is. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be let in," Jo'Dar said waving her letter in the faces of the doormen.
"I highly doubt that Emperor Ocato would have invited a thief to his throne room," argued one man.
Jo'Dar let out an annoyed hiss as a well dressed man walked up behind the doormen.
"Ahem, gentlemen, the thief Jo'Dar has been invited. Please allow her to pass."
"Told ya so," Jo'Dar stuck out a pink tongue at the men as she shoved passed them.
The well dressed man gave her a bemused half smile as he lead her to the throne room. Catching Jo'Dar eying some valuables displayed upon the walls, he leaned to whisper in her ear.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you. Last one that did exploded."
"No touchy anything shiny, got it."
The man opened the ornate doors of the throne room and announced, "Emperor Ocato, the Suthay-raht thief Jo'Dar has arrived."
With no further warning, he thrust Jo'Dar into the throne room. As she scraped together some semblance of a bow, her nose twitched at a detested scent. Dog. Someone has a dog. I hate dogs......And blood; there's an awful lot of blood on someone's hands. She straightened up and glanced around the room. It wasn't hard to pinpoint the dog; nor the scent of blood. Jo'Dar had heard enough stories to recognize Dragonblood when she saw her. A low hiss escaped through Jo'Dar's teeth and her fur bristled before she regained control of her emotions. She slinked over to a seat as far from Dragonblood as possible and waited for others to come.
|
|
|
Post by FC4 on Oct 19, 2009 22:31:52 GMT
More entered the room, but Selinus did not pay them attention. He suddenly had the blind woman leaning very, very close; somehow right in front of his face yet not running into it, and always catching his hood-hidden eyes with her blind-folded ones. It was like their eyes burned through cloth to meet each other.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," came a male voice.
"Nothing important," Selinus replied in unison with Zhira, giving a sidelong glance at Will from under his hood.
"Nice lookin' dog you got there. Name's Will, in case you missed it earlier." Selinus got the feeling he was not the one being addressed now, but remembered the name anyways. Will was that Redguard he found rather amusing.
"I'll remember it," the woman promised as she looked at Selinus again, lining up their eyes perfectly once more. "...I don't like witchery," she replied slowly. "Because I don't like witches. I don't like witches, because witches try and impose their will on others. Like dragons, or so I hear." Selinus' heart skipped a beat.
"Not," she added, "That it makes any difference to you." Indeed it does, woman. The way you said that... Selinus briefly bit his lip. This would ruin any attempts at concealing dragonic kind, this woman; she somehow sensed him!
"No, it does not. For I am not a witch, miss." He did not bother using a more appropriate term, just left it at a more common, yet respectful, title. His voice held that trace aggravation, but it held a different quality now. "I am a scholar, who once dabbled in the magical arts. The name is Selinus." He smoothly emitted the half-truth, not skipping a beat. "And I find it very curious, how you appear completely capable of seeing me. Someone has had contact with the magical arts, herself, yes?"
Just as he finished his question, a chill ran up his spine, but not from the woman. Something had entered the room; something powerful. Selinus focused his mind, seeking out the power that caused his body to tingle. He had not felt such since the last time he'd come in contact with a dragon.
So you have finally arrived? Selinus projected himself through the air towards the Dragon he felt, his own presence connecting to them through that telepathic link shared by the dragon kin alone. It was a mental voice that emitted, not too different from his mortal voice, but with a more airy, smooth tone. He felt her presence. Yes, a female... and constantly emitting crafted magic... All dragons gave off magic, that other dragons around them could detect. This was what many called 'residual' magic. But this female gave off crafted magic as well, magic given off in the performance of spellcraft and enchantment. I trust the Elders have informed you of the situation, sister? What are your names?
This entire mental inquiry went by swiftly and unnoticed to any in the room unable to access the Dragonic mental link. Hopefully, this included the strange woman he awaited an answer from.
|
|
fantome
Novice
Moonlight becomes you....
Posts: 10
|
Post by fantome on Oct 19, 2009 22:50:31 GMT
So you have finally arrived? I trust the Elders have informed you of the situation, sister? What are your names?
Jo'Dar heard the voice the same time she realized there was another dragon in the room. Her tail gave a spastic twitch before settling back into feline immobility.
Finally? Excuse me, but I believe I arrived in perfectly good time, brother. As to the informing, yeah they mentioned it. Name's Jo'Dar, as I'm sure you heard; my other name is Mooneye. Jo'Dar flicked her white eyes about the room searching for the physical form of the dragon. He was certainly different compared to the mortals. Jo'Dar could see their forms fine but the residual magic of Selinus made her magic bend and curve; he looked like he was underwater. From what she could see, he seemed decent enough looking. She squinched her eyes shut trying to stave off the beginnings of a headache. Upon reopening them, she noticed who Selinus stood by.
Ok, you, your turn to answer my questions. Just who are you exactly? And why in the world are you talking to HER of all people?
|
|
|
Post by Vicorva on Oct 20, 2009 18:02:32 GMT
Zhira's headache trebled in the space of a few moments- her head twitched this way and that, as if trying to shake an irksome fly.
"There... there's buzzing... in my head..." she muttered, too low for anyone to hear, while Saffa zipped to her side, whining sympathetically, and tapping her master's feet with her paws.
And then Zhira's lips parted. Her chest started rise and fall with increasing irregularity, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The sandy-white dog at her feet began to growl and whine in equal parts, nuzzling her nose against Zhira's knee.
A hand reached up to clutch at her heart in a claw-like grip. Her body was rigid and coiled with tension. She leaned forwards... and forwards.. and the ground came up to meet her, and now her mind was as black as her vision as she crumpled awkwardly on the floor, Saffa whining and nudging her with her nose, before looking pleadingly around the room.
|
|
|
Post by DarkNova50 on Oct 20, 2009 19:51:06 GMT
Will kept his seat near the Redguard woman, casually scratching behind her dog's ear and glancing at the occasional newcomer as she and the robed Imperial spoke to one another. Though one could make the argument that he wasn't actively eavesdropping on them, it was hard not to pick up on certain words from their conversation, given how close he was sitting. Well, that, and the fact that it was hard not to notice when people started throwing around words like 'witches' and 'dragons.'
Why the two of them would be discussing such things was beyond him; he found the whole topic of spell weaving hags, trying to put some damned hex on people rather disconcerting. And, given her tone of voice, he couldn't help but think that the woman shared the sentiment. Of course, simply knowing that his family's ancestral sword was ever at his back was of great comfort.
He'd pit a blade of hardened ebony against any witch, anytime.
The woman's dog quickly zipped away from Will, though he didn't pay it much mind, at first. Silently, he continued to survey the throne room, noting several of the new arrivals. Sadly, if their appearances were anything to go by, there was a distinct lack of any real warriors in the room. He reminded himself, however grudgingly, that magic and stealth had their place within any well balanced group as well...but fighters were the basis of any solid team, in his mind.
I hope Ocato knows what he's doing... Will thought to himself.
His thoughts, however, were abruptly cut off by the sound of gasping coming from his side, accompanied by a beastial whining. Turning to the source, Will caught sight of the Redguard woman falling forward, hand clutched to her breast as the dog reacted frantically. Will lurched towards the blinded woman's form, kneeling at her side as he looked on with concern.
"Hey, you alright?" Will asked, his voice steady and calm, thought obviously lined with regard for the woman's well being. To look at her, she didn't appear to be physically hurt...then again, Will wasn't anything close to healer. The most he could do was place his hand gently on the woman's shoulder, hoping for some sort of reply.
|
|
Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
|
Post by Fanchon on Oct 20, 2009 20:53:30 GMT
Shelby couldn't believe her good luck as the blind woman fell to the ground. Forgetting their charge for just a second, several of her quaint little 'entourage' turned their heads, one of them (four total) even taking a hesitant step or two forward as if to assist before remembering the reason they were there in the first place.
For them, giving her a few seconds to act was a very large mistake. Whirling about quickly to face the one holding her chains, she brought her knee up directly into his unprotected groin. With something between a squeak and a groan he fell to the ground, clutching his private area, tears welling in his eyes as she made a break for the door.
Unfortunately, she'd made a grave miscalculation of her own. Expecting the guard to drop the chain attaching them together when he fell, she hadn't bothered to notice that it still was wrapped rather securely around his left hand, even as he grabbed at himself in pain. Like a dog reaching the end of its rope, when the few feet of slack was taken up, she was violently jerked backward and down to the floor, landing quite heavily.
Slightly dazed from the fall she twisted smartly around as if to rise to her feet... but was stopped by the tips of three very sharp swords, wielded by three extremely angry looking Imperial guards, pointed directly at her throat.
"Umm, he slipped. I was running to get help, honestly!", she offered meekly, giving them a look of mock sincerity. As expected, this only seemed to make them look even angrier, although she could've sworn a few seconds ago that such a feat wasn't possible.
"Can't blame a dead girl for trying, can you? You might want to get him some ice after you kill me, though. Also, maybe put in for some protection down there. I'm sure a few crotch plates wouldn't kill the budget."
Well, if I'm gonna die, may as well piss 'em off as much as possible beforehand.
|
|
|
Post by Vrek on Oct 21, 2009 0:24:53 GMT
This odd day was getting even odder every minute. The argument between the hooded fellow and the blindfolded woman was just the tip of the iceberg, and it in itself was quite a spectacle. They booth looked ready to go for the other's throat before large friendly fellow, Will, interrupted. And thank goodness for that, if only for their sakes. Their first impression were already ruined as it was, but if it were to come to blows, right in front of the standing Emperor?
But when a prisoner was escorted inside, the day went from odd to downright confusing. Now it seemed as if every single class were represented at the little get-together. There were the clergy, so he assumed, stealing a glance at the volatile monk, and wealthy, as shown by the just as fiery blindfolded woman, the working middle class, as given by himself, warriors such as the Will fellow and possibly the Richard du Blois character. And the lower class, he guessed, Borsalmas, who gave Tyrol a friendly nod as he passed, which the scout was happy to return. Judging by how the Altmer was introduced as 'of the Waterfront', though the worn clothes did speak for the assumption that he wasn't the wellest off among them.
Why, all we need now is for the King of the Sloads to walk in. As if on que, the doors opened once again but instead of a giant slug-man walking in, a Counciler and a Khajiit did. "Emperor Ocato, the Suthay-raht thief Jo'Dar has arrived." That did catch Tyrol's attention. Who the hell lets themselves be introduced as a thief?
The fight between the woman and monk seemed to simmer down by then, and the dog finally seemed to stop it's near constant barking. He looked at the canine, when he instead hear it whining, next to the fallen woman. He dashed to the woman, and knelt next to Will, the act of crossing the distance taking only a few seconds. Babysitting well to do clients was something he had a bit of experience with, and this was no different.
Tapping Will on his arm, he reached out and pulled the woman onto her side. If she threw up, she wouldn't choke on her own vomit that way. "Hold her like this." He said to the large man, then reached for the blindfold covering her eyes. His first instinct was to check if her eyes were dilated, to see if she had a concussion. He stopped before he could tug on the cloth, though, taking note of the dog. Dogs were protective, and he wouldn't want to make it feel as he were threatening it's master, at least while she was asleep.
"Hold her still, I know how to heal." He told Will, as he rolled up his sleeves, and rubbed his hands together. He spent much more time perfecting other aspects of restoration, but healing was easy for him, anyways. He placed both his hands on either temple, an awkward position with her head more parallel to the ground then not, but he made due. Tyrol closed his eyes, and focused energy down to his hands, and out of his palms. He knew if he opened his eyes, there would be the telltale blue glow of restoration magic, but he could concentrate better this way. He let the flow of magic stop after a few moments, then pulled his hands away. If she didn't wake up, he would have to risk the dog to check for more serious wounds.
|
|