Aulakauss
Waker
WARNING: Active Toaster Area
Posts: 194
|
Post by Aulakauss on Nov 16, 2009 18:52:38 GMT
Characters: Must be approved by creator Content Rating: Adult Genre: Action/Adventure (Sorry I forgot these, IN) Diary of a Madgod [/font] DISCLAIMER: Some minor things in this RP may or may not make sense to people who were not in ADETH's The End of an Era, but don't worry, it's totally newcomer friendly; you'll know all you need to by the end of this post. And then there will be some things that may just not make any sense no matter how you noodle them. Such is the nature of the Isles. Now, on to the fun! The date is 4E 06, six years after the horrors of the Oblivion Crisis. A group of unlikely misfits banded together, each for his or her own reasons, to fight the Daedric hordes and, after months of fighting the Daedra, their own personal ghosts and, sometimes, each other, they managed to push back the tide and reclaim Mundus from the brink of apocalypse. These men and women were, upon the end of the war, lauded as The Champions of Cyrodiil, and although they fought together, many have gone their separate ways since then. Many innocent people perished in the ordeal, as well as a few not-so-innocent people, but folks are trying to forget about all of it now. They are rebuilding their cities, their homes and their lives. Reconstruction is going well, Kvatch has once again risen from the ashes and the Avatar of Akatosh stands proud and tall in the newly rebuilt Temple of the One. But none of this would bear any significance in a land ruled by a cheese-obsessed man with a split personality and a Dremora for a son, would it? On the other side of the Door in Niben Bay lies the Shivering Isles, home to Sheogorath, Prince of Madness and Lord of the Never There. Or at least his mortal replacement. Dunken Ilsutran rules over the Isles now, the Dunmer having grown into his station gradually over the years. The realm has begun to shift to match his brand of Madness, spawning new types of Daedra and transforming the landscape in subtle ways to suit the new Madgod better. Dunken rose to become the first mortal to rule a Deadric realm during the Crisis and subsequently ignored Tamriel almost completely, preferring to leave such affairs to his Army Commander and Public Relations Representative, a young Imperial named Greldar Crehascrin. All was well in the Isles under the rule of the new Sheogorath for a time as they too rebuilt in the wake of an invasion. But as we know, in a place like the Isles, nothing stays the same for long. Two years ago, a man that Dunken had clubbed within an inch of his life with a wooden ladle just prior to becoming a god finally caught up with him. He somehow tracked him to the Isles, got in and began plotting his revenge on the man that had ruined his life. Using the power contained in the decommissioned Obelisks of Order, he managed to bind Daedra into his service permanently, building an army. There was one hitch, though: he could only summon ducks. Since being beaten in the head by the future Madgod, the man had forgotten all of his past save for his immense knowledge on the subjects of Conjuration and Dwemer technology. The brain damage from the clubbing damaged his ability to weave magicka, leaving him only able to call these strange ducklike Daedra into his service. And so, based on the only thing that he could create, the only fruits he could reap from his labors, the Redguard named himself Ducky and swore to bring down the Isles in a flurry of bills and feathers. __________ Our side of the story begins with one of the Champions of Cyrodiil, a small and haunted Khajiit named Karstine. After having bizarre dreams for the last two months straight, she finds herself suddenly compelled to find the place that appears when she falls asleep; it wants something from her and it won't let her be until it gets it. After a month of searching, she located the island that called to her, a small patch of land in the Niben Bay adorned with a strange, locked metal gate to nowhere. The gate informed her upon arrival, in a rather bored tone, that she would perish alone and instructed her to gather an adventuring party before coming back or its master would rip off her ears and nibble on them. Disturbed, yet oddly more compelled than before to figure out the mystery behind her strange dreams and the door on the island, Karstine wrote a handful of letters to fellow Champions she'd lost contact with and scribbled up some posters calling for anyone strong of body, mind or adventurous spirit to see her about an expedition into the unknown. She pinned up the posters in all of the major cities, sat down in her home in the Imperial City, and waited. This is where you come in. Sometime over the last month, Karst has met personally with several people (your characters) and arranged a meeting between them all, and the Champions she managed to get hold of. All still interested are to meet her at the Bloated Float on the Imperial City's waterfront on the 18th of Rain's Hand, between 7 and 9PM. __________ So, a couple notes first: - Although they'll likely be a minority, those returning from The End of an Era can reprise their roles as Champions of Cyrodiil, though they're also more than welcome to make something entirely new as well. - Those who are new, whom I expect to be the greater majority, may make almost whoever you want. You may also be a Demented or Manic from the Shivering Isles once we get there if you so wish. I may even consider allowing Mazken and Auriel characters as well, but don't count on it. Those entries will be accepted or declined based on how well written the sheet is. I'm not asking for a book, just a decently thought-out sheet. If you wanna be a Daedra just for the sake of being a Daedra, you'll likely be turned down, for instance. General Rules and Stuff: ~ You must wait for me to approve your sheet in the CS thread before posting. ~ No killing other people's peoples unless properly arranged. ~ Vampires and werebeasts are acceptable, though they must be played correctly and I will be limiting their numbers to avoid excess ridiculousness (providing ridiculousness is mostly my job here), so it's pretty much first come, first serve. ~ This is not an RP for the faint of heart; there will be some rather dark and twisted stuff in this, despite the comedic nature of the plot. ~ Romances are allowed, just try to keep it realistic. And no graphic sexing scenes. I personally couldn't care less, but rules are rules, sirs. ~ No 'Bob says 'Hi.' then picks his nose while he waits for you to respond.' posts. I want a good size and at least an attempt at proper grammar and staying in character. You can have Bob say hi and pick his nose at someone else, but try to embellish it a little and make it interesting to read, mm'kay? ~ Multiple characters are not only allowed, but encouraged, as long as you can handle them. The more the merrier. ~ Ubering is okay, but in small amounts and mostly for the sake of comedy. If you wanna slash through three-hundred Mazken, you better have a damn good explanation. ~ The scale of this will be bigger than ingame; New Sheoth is enormous, for instance, rather than just a decent-sized town with a lunatic in the middle. ~ You must have some sense of humor or you'll never enjoy yourself here. Your character doesn't, but you do. I'm watching you. ~ If you ever want to do anything with and/or to my creations (I'll be having several active at any given time) just ask. Chances are I'll let you do whatever. ______________ Encyclopedia Insania Important Things in the New Realm New Realm:[/u] The 'proper' term for the Shivering Isles under the rule of the new Madgod, effective since the beginning of the Fourth Era. The reason for this change is unknown to the general populace, but is assumed to exist to differentiate documents written after the Greymarch. The Redguard Ducky: Though his birth name has been entirely forgotten, the name 'Ducky' strikes fear into the hearts of nearly every denizen of the Shivering Isles. He has been rumored to be everything from a giant beastman covered in feathers to a creation of Jyggalag come to destroy the world he could not have. Few but the Madgod himself know the truth of his origins. The Duckmarch: The war that has raged since 4E 04 between Dunken and Ducky. What started as an attack by strange beasts on Xedillian soon turned out to be a full-scale invasion from within the Realm. Many of the ruins that dot the Isles are called home by Ducky's forces, and many more strongholds have been erected around old Obelisks of Order. Currently, roughly thirty-five percent of the Shivering Isles have fallen to the seemingly endless tides of birds. Dunken Ilsutran: During the Oblivion Crisis, Dunken was busy thwarting the Greymarch that threatened the Realm. His victory over Jyggalag and the forces of Order netted him the title of Madgod of the Isles, a role he has grown fully into over the past six years. He is now as much a Daedric god as his predecessor, possessing in his own way every bit of potency as the previous Sheogorath. Anatidaedroth: More commonly known as 'Sausage Ducks,' 'Demon Ducks,' and sometimes just 'Ducks,' these feathered horrors are Ducky's fearless warriors, available in a frightening variety of forms. The average Duck is three feet tall, made of leathery black flesh covered in brown and black feathers and sports a stubby brown bill full of sharp blue teeth. Bright and angry gray eyes sit on either side of the bill, set into a human sized head. Possibly the most grotesque aspect of of the creature's body are the great, muscular legs upon which it travels, as thick as a Xivilai's thigh and ending in a large webbed foot nearly two feet across. In addition to these basic but dangerous Daedra, four 'augmented' forms have been observed in battle so far, with upgrades ranging from robotic limbs to magicka-fueled weaponry.
|
|
Aulakauss
Waker
WARNING: Active Toaster Area
Posts: 194
|
Post by Aulakauss on Dec 29, 2009 0:08:38 GMT
[ooc] I've edited the OP with a meeting location. Shame on me for not having it there from the start. Now.. Let's get this party started! [/ooc]
Amidst the buzzing sounds of drunkenness and merriment, a woman leaned over a small table in the corner of the Bloated Float. Small, clawed fingers tapped themselves against a glass of ale and the head of their owner laid upon the wood, green eyes staring at the other side of the tavern through the amber liquid. After a few minutes of blank staring, something touched her shoulder and, tilting her head a bit, she saw a pretty young Breton with a flask in her hand standing behind her.
"Ms. Zeterra?" The Breton smiled nervously down at the bored looking feline, a look of awe on her face, "Can I.. can I refill your drink?"
Karst blinked at the girl a moment before rearranging herself, resting her hand on her chin and peering up at the barmaid. She laughed silently at the look on the human's face and gingerly held up her glass with her fingertips.
"It's just Karst, sweetheart; I come down here to avoid being treated like a princess," the cat explained sweetly, "Just treat me like any other drunken bastard, a'ight?"
Puzzled, the girl refilled the ale, gave a smile and gulped quietly. She couldn't believe she was talking to a celebrity. "My parents said a couple of you lived here, in the City, but.. I never thought I'd actually meet one of you.." she sounded like she was having trouble choosing which words to use, "If you don't mind my asking.. what are you doing here?"
Karst laughed audibly this time, her playful grin returning the moment she was done. "Just waiting for some folks I'm supposed to be meeting here. Usually I'm just here trying to get some peace and forget how to walk," Karst took a gulp of her freshly replenished drink, raising a hand up to pat the girl's arm, "If we're lucky, there'll be several of us here shortly."
|
|
Chriso
Apprentice
The Birdman
Posts: 97
|
Post by Chriso on Dec 29, 2009 11:37:59 GMT
OOC: I haven't written anything for an RP for a long time, so I feel really rusty. I tried my best and all, but I don't feel too confident about this post. Sorry if it's not very good. A rhythmic sound of boots meeting cobblestone beat as Jartod walked the Waterfront streets — a dingy place to say the least. The Redguard held a tight grip on his nose to stop the vile stench of poverty assaulting his nostrils. Damn… what am I doing here? The slum surrounding him started to make Jartod have regrets; the poor men and women who lived on the Waterfront had very little, and were going to struggle throughout life — just like the people of Jartod’s village without their hero. A powerful wave of guilt forcefully washed over him, and he couldn’t help but feel like a traitor to his people. However, he could not go back. If Jartod were to return, it would look as if he was a coward, like a man who could not go through with things: a poor example to his people. Reluctantly, the Redguard strode towards the inn, trying to ignore the abundance of beggars staring at him with beady eyes. Despite being a seasoned warrior, he felt uneasy walking Waterfront territory; everything about him spelt out that he did not belong, and the looks of suspicion and hatred from the inhabitants made it clear that he should leave. Inconspicuously, Jartod quickened the pace. Thankfully, the Waterfront residents turned their attention elsewhere – likely to a mouse they could feed on – and Jartod breathed a huge sigh of relief. This cleared the man’s conscience, and he could finally think about the positives of the journey…. I can have a nice pint of beer once I get to the inn! Yeah, that was pretty much about it — and even then, that brought up another thought: Why in Oblivion does ‘Karst’ want us to come out this late, anyway? A guy could get stabbed, y’know… or looked at creepily. And this strange gate — what is all that about? Hell if I know, but then again, I suppose she’s gonna need a big, tough guy like me to help her out… and when my help is needed, I answer the call— Jartod to the rescue! The man bellowed a burly laugh to himself, causing a few heads to turn sharply, as if their noses caught scent of a delicious piece of cheese: the first edible bit of food they’d probably eat in a long time. Jartod finally reached the meeting point, an old vessel disguised as a hotel. Hmm, cute. He didn’t mind the place, actually; it looked clean, was away from where the lurking beggars resided, had a bouncer at the door and best of all, beer was on the menu. Result! Jartod thought with a large grin as he pushed the Bloated Float’s door open. The Redguard’s face beamed as his eyes met gaze with the hotel’s interior and its cosiness gave Jartod a layer of warmth. The majority had smiles on their faces (even if they were smiles of drunkenness), and all the furniture was in good shape. Yeah, I think I’m going to like it here.It didn’t take more than a few seconds to spot Karst sitting down on a big table; she stuck out like a sore thumb, really. Nonetheless, even though she was rather odd looking (in Jartod’s opinion, anyway), the crossbreed had proved very friendly when she met with Jartod and the other Champions — and that was enough to make the Hero of Cheydinhal like her. Happily, Jartod sat beside her. “I gotta tell you, it’s good to be in here; it smells like a horse’s ass out there!” Jartod joked. “Anyway, I can’t believe I’m early — it’s a big first! Oh, and how’s the drink here? I’m dying for a beer!”
|
|
|
Post by Vicorva on Dec 29, 2009 13:48:44 GMT
OOC: Wheeee! Starting! And good luck with your new baby, Aula- everyone, click on the egg in Aula's sig, or it'll die.
Aula, taking some liberties with the first meeting between Karst and Nari, hope it's alright. I make no assumptions as to how Karst feels about Nari: it's all as he sees it, in his twisted little mind. IC:
Qa'Nari padded down the road, his steps soft although his orcish armour chinked slightly as he moved. He appeared to be for the most part a feline tank- he looked for all the world to be a cathay warrior of Elswyr, his snowy lineage only hinted at in his blonde main and his crystal eyes.
The large bundle on his back did not appear to weigh him down, though he leaned heavily on his long staff at odd moments. People smiled warily at him as he passed; he looked for all the world to be an adventurer, and everyone knew to stay on the right side of adventurers.
Qa'Nari's eyes were glazed as they swept the hopeful, nervous faces, his nose quivering thoughtfully. He passed the city gates and tread carefully down the steep path to the Waterfront, planting his feet firmly enough to grow roots with every step.
It had been a long time since he had first heard the name 'Zeterra' in conjunction with the Oblivion Crisis, and after having met with an apparently distant cousin and Champion of Cyrodiil, he was no closer to understanding what the significance was of having such powerful relations. He had sat stiffly through his first encounter with his cousin, curious to meet this previously unknown legendary family member, but quite at odds with how he should behave. The woman herself had seemed nice enough, although all her smiling and jokes had made him sweat. She herself had complained of a headache frequently under her breath- Qa'Nari assumed she'd had a drink before their meeting.
Regardless of the awkwardness of meeting between his chatty cousin, he'd come out of it with an interesting contract. Qa'Nari was a nomad by nature, and had frequently made money adventuring, and the thought of going into the unknown greatly piqued his interest. The feline was uncertain as to why, but he found seeing new things... 'not bad'- that is to say, it did not make him sweat, and sometimes even caused him to smile, an arrangement of features he enjoyed.
He looked rather out of place on the waterfront, but in his introspective state, he thought nothing of it. He pushed the door open, gripping it by the edge of the door while his eyes scanned around inside. It seemed like quite a raucous time of day, with much tinkling of glasses and sounds of merriment. He could see the Champion lounging at the bar, but wavered uncertainly at the door. What was he to do now?
He settled for closing the door quietly behind him and standing sentry just to the side of it. He watched the Champion chatting gaily with a redguard he did not recognise, and shifted his weight from left to right, not knowing what he was supposed to do. He had been told there would be a meeting here in the Bloated Float. He didn't know what that entailed, or who he should talk to. Karst had not been specific, and neither had the posters.
He crossed his arms, his face set in an unreadable expression, but his tail twitched at its very tip, and his ears swivelled this way and that, revealing his agitation.
|
|
Aulakauss
Waker
WARNING: Active Toaster Area
Posts: 194
|
Post by Aulakauss on Dec 29, 2009 23:45:17 GMT
[ooc] Awesome posts, you guys! Don't worry about it, Illusionary; I was kinda figuring (and hoping) you'd all do that. Help me sorta.. get a feel for what everyone thinks of the kitty, hehe.
Also, a momentous occasion: My first interactive post in my first RP is my 67th post. I've been touched by the feely hands of destiny. It feels good.[/ooc]
Chin on fist, Karstine had been in the tavern all of half an hour and was already bored. Usually, being in a bar meant getting to drink to the point that she nearly forgot what part of the city she lived in. The fact that she was meeting people demanded she go light on the spirits, however, and that didn't quite sit well with her. She desperately hoped everyone wouldn't decide to arrive at eight or later.
I should've tightened the meeting times to seven to eight. I'd hate to be drunk when I meet them, Karst thought languidly, though she smirked at another idea, I hope Qa'Nari doesn't think I'm a drunk. After all, I had three shots of Flin in me at the time. I'm sure he must've smelled it..
Raising the glass to her pale lips yet again, she poured some more alcohol down her throat, and just as she did so she saw the door open through the bottom of the cup. Tilting her drink down just enough that she could see over it, she saw the form of a familiar Redguard board the boat and a smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. Thank Azura.
Jartod seemed to spot her quickly -she honestly couldn't imagine that anybody could miss her purple clothes and red hair- and plunked himself down in a chair near her.
"I gotta tell you, it’s good to be in here; it smells like a horse’s ass out there!" the man joked. Karst chuckled and set her ale on the table, "Anyway, I can’t believe I’m early — it’s a big first! Oh, and how’s the drink here? I’m dying for a beer!"
Ugh. How can anyone stand to drink beer? It's vile piss water..
Externally, the Khajiit made no mention of her thoughts, choosing instead to shrug indifferently. "The ale and whiskey ain't bad, though I never tried the beer," Karst said honestly. Looking around, she spotted the girl she'd been talking to a few minutes prior and waved to her when she looked her way. Weaving her way between the tables and people, the young Breton looked expectantly at Karst.
"Yes, ma'am?"
She indicated Jartod with a slight tilt of her head. "A beer for the good man, if you'd be so kind, dear," Karst requested gently, pulling some coins from her vest pocket and placing them in her hand. With a nod, the maiden scampered off. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the girl as she watched her go. That adorable little thing deserves a better job than this..
Making a mental note to tip generously, she diverted her gaze back to the Redguard. She really wasn't sure what to say to him at this point, as she'd only just met him a few days ago. Absently, she tapped her fingers on the table, a feeling of nervousness poking at her insides until she finally came up with something.
"So, uh.. Jartod," Karst glanced over at the warrior curiously, "What made you want to sign up for this? If.. it's okay for me to ask."
|
|
|
Post by Kleidium on Dec 30, 2009 4:40:02 GMT
OOC: Finally got my ass out of GarageBand to post!
IC: It's been a while since Odeen had felt uneasy about a meeting with Karst. Not only was he going to be late, but he was unsure if anybody else that was meeting her would like him at all. Quickly putting this thought aside, he felt foolish to think like that again. After all, he had changed for the better after the crisis. The fact that he had been traveling between the guild branches of the Mages' Guild only proved this. Before, he would have stayed home and conducted his own private experiments. Nowadays, he felt more...official.
Cracking an awkward smile at this fact, he began to wrap up his current project. What he had been asked to work on isn't very difficult; just a few potent healing agents for a mage that seemed to have a particular interest in botany past the magical properties of plants. The Argonian never thought to ask why, but then again, he often tried to avoid talking to her. Even with Odeen's new-found social appetite, when some people scare him, they scare him.
The alchemist saw this girl as a nutcase ever since she tried to construct some sort of "growing house, like what they have in Morrowind!". Of course, she failed, and Odeen felt satisfied not knowing how or why, but that there weren't vines covering the city.
Do they even have houses like that in Morrowind? If so...maybe Cyrodiil's climate isn't right, or perhaps the soil isn't as pure? Odeen briefly wondered, stuffing his alchemical supplies into his new pack he had gotten only a few days ago. His old pack finally ripped open, and instead of having it repaired, he kept it. It was very old and possibly useless by now, but he had a problem letting it go...as it served as one of the few mementos of his past during the crisis. Obviously, his torn pack would be a lot better memento than memories of his timidness, or his scars from the many battles he was involved in.
Why should I care anyways? I need to hurry, I don't want to be too late! Hastening his movements, he left the fresh potions in their vials on his work station, and stuffed the ones he made the previous night in his bag to help replenish his personal stock, since he'll most likely be in charge of potion inventory and supply once Karst's little adventure goes underway.
Instead of feeling afraid, Odeen actually felt sort of...excited at the thought of a new adventure. Then again, there still was that odd attraction that was pulling him to the same place Karst was wanting to explore. He had not seen the gate up close, but he instead gazed from afar, resisting the urge to go alone. Someone, or something wanted him there, or pulled at him to be there. Now, perhaps this mysterious force will take pleasure in the fact that the poor Argonian's soon to grant its wish.
Making sure everything was with him, he slung the bag over his shoulder, and slipped on his old leather gauntlet. Odeen set off out the door to his room, and made his way outside of the university of magic. As soon as he stepped outside, he realized he was a bit later than he thought. In a hurry, the truant Argonian jogged to the best of his ability, sights set for the waterfront. Luckily, there weren't as many people aimlessly wandering the grounds. However, it made him wonder what all the mages of the city were up to other than prowling the grounds of the university as usual.
...I think too much. Always have... With that, the Argonian sped up despite the arrhythmic clanking of neighboring vials and bottles in his bag filling the air.
|
|
|
Post by shadow666 on Dec 31, 2009 2:13:27 GMT
<ooc> ooh its been a while since ive rped this duality, so lets just see how things go, and hai Illusionary! long time no see.
<ic> In the furthest corner of the Bloated Float from Karst, a figure dressed in a monk robe, with the hood covering the head and face sat looking at the situation beginning to unfold itself, a slight smile appeared on the smooth lips of the girl hiding beneath.
However unlike her furry companion, the Breton was unable to show her face to the public. After all, when everyone had found out the true appearance of the Healer, she was cast out and called an abomination by those who once held her dear to them, all but a select few.. Especially a certain Dunmer who she had shared many a close encounter with in the final days of their journey.
Yet his face was still not visible from those who began walking through the door, obviously geared up to be going on an expedition, rather than wanting to buy a drink.
As the woman was contemplating wether or not to finally greet her old friend, Mia gazed at the young girl running about between patrons. It reminded Mia of a time long ago when she thought she was just as innocent as her, pure and without corruption of any sort. But then again the form she was in now wasn't what she was truly, so the only thing that could have counted as innocent was her mind before regaining her memories.
Gazing back up she smiled at the distant memory and picked up her belongings that had been sitting on the ground next to her. Slowly the healer walked towards the table where everyone had been gathering, wondering whether or not to make her presence known yet. After all, one champion in a pub was one thing, having more than one known to be there could have the entire city swarming in to try and see a bit of history.
|
|
|
Post by Vicorva on Dec 31, 2009 16:49:58 GMT
OOC: Heya Kleid and Shadow, good to see you all again. IC: Qa'Nari shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tail twitching at the tip. The Champion did not appear to have noticed him, and he was still rather unsure of what to do. He uncrossed his arms. He crossed them again. He uncrossed them. A human with an ugly, smooth face trotted by. She was young, and her youth was invigorating, but like all humans Nari could not help but feel that she rather resembled a pig. Even the most human of his own kind had proper beautiful tilts to their features. There was a cowled presence in the room, an obvious outsider although of what origin the feline could only guess. There seemed always to be a token 'inconspicuous' figure, although this one seemed rather small- an elf, or a woman, at a guess. Qa'Nari's nose quivered, and then wrinkled, his lips pulling back into a displeased snarl and revealing his sharp teeth. Stale sweat and ale. I'll never understand why anyone chooses to hole up with so many others... the smell and the space are intolerable.Made all the worse, no doubt, by the high temperature of this land. What he wouldn't give to feel the chill wind rippling across the fur on his back, the calm, familiar sound of his own feet crunching through the snow, the frozen smells, delicate, delicious, dangerous.... The rage in his heart. The thrill of the hunt. The power of an avalanche, stormy, invincible. Vengeful. His muscles tensed and quivered, eyelids lowering as he drove himself deep into his own mind even as his body responded to the images he'd unwittingly raised. Now was not the time. It is never the time... he thought. He opened his eyes, but remained taut, tensed muscles invisible beneath his heavy hauberk. Gradually, tension eased, but his ears remained slightly back, unable to settle. What the hell was he supposed to be doing right now? He watched the Champion interact with the redguard man, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He crossed and uncrossed his arms. He wished he knew what was expected of him.
|
|
|
Post by FC4 on Jan 1, 2010 5:55:03 GMT
OOC: *cracks knuckles* Alright Vivy, Let's get down to business!
IC: A Dunmer stood on the docks of the Imperial Waterfront, his bright crimson eyes staring out over the waves. It was roughly that time now, but he wasn't going to the meeting just yet. For a man out in the evening air, he wasn't very well dressed for the cool weather. All he sported was deerskin trousers and a vest of leather with a fur lining.
But Vivian Marcy preferred to be open to the cold. It had a biting quality to it that forced his senses to awaken, cleared his mind and kept him alert. And Vivian's entire life was centered around being alert.
Ever since the Oblivion Crisis, he had become an Empire-hired assassin. With the Dark Brotherhood seeking his death after he exiled himself, he was forced to kill his killers. The Empire saw opportunity to bring down an organization that had become a thorn in their side for many centuries. They felt a Champion of Cyrodiil was up to the task.
But it was a taxing duty, and it cost Vivian nearly everything. One cloth-wrapped hand held a simple beaded necklace, and he looked down at the circular diamond amulet. Iris, pretty much the only family he had left, he had been forced to leave for her safety. And Mia, the owner of the necklace he now held, had left him for his safety, as being with her brought it's own dangers. When he'd gotten the letter from Karst, he had hesitated to see her.
He was even more hesitant about this meeting, and he went through some lengths to ensure the safety of his friend and himself, as well as the others. She mentioned the rest of the gang. Vivian recalled. Just how much of the gang will be there? It set him on edge; what would Iris say, if she found out about his current dealings?
She probably already knows. Likely been spying on me every now and then when she has the chance. Vivian cracked a smile at the thought, and slipped the necklace on. The diamond glittered in the moonlight on his sternum, nestled between the sides of his furred vest.
Finding the Bloated Float was a task any beggar could achieve, and once Vivian entered, finding Karst was equally easy. She was sitting at a table, and already had two people near her. Neither of which Vivian recognized. So he stood at the door for a moment, unsure what to do, and folded his arms.
He knew he didn't look like a standard patron, decked out as he was with a noticeable quiver on his back and knives attached to each thigh. More than one of the bar-goers turned and watched him as he crossed the threshold into the inn. He noticed the awed looks, the uneasy looks, the disgruntled looks. Champion of Cyrodiil was a title that brought a variety of reactions from a variety of people.
The attention always made him uneasy. The Dunmer tensed, looking around for anyone besides Karst he might have known as the door clapped shut behind him. Finally, his eyes rested upon the man beside him.
Or rather, the feline, as he found himself beside a super-sized version of Karst, minus breasts and with a different coloration. He was a bit taller than Karst, and beside Vivian, who was slim and muscular, the lean, broad Khajiit looked like a boulder of fur and muscle. Following the Khajiit's eyes, he figured the cat was waiting for Karst.
"Seems I'm not the only one waiting for Karst." Vivian remarked, stepping around the khajiit to clear the doorway, and standing beside the wall on the other side of the feline with his arms still crossed. "No need to be nervous, she doesn't bite hard." He grinned playfully as he joked, testing the feline's humor bone. He's likely to become a companion on this mission of Karst's. And if he is after her, well, then... I'm the closest defense. Companion would be better, though. He looks capable in melee.
"Name's Vivian. Would you like a drink?" He inquired to the Khajiit, hoping perhaps he could get on a name basis with a man he might end up working alongside.
|
|
|
Post by Vicorva on Jan 1, 2010 13:08:31 GMT
OOC: FC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (4) IC:
"Seems I'm not the only one waiting on Karst." Qa'Nari blinked and looked around when he was addressed by the husky elven voice. His blue eyes honed in on the face of the speaker- a dunmer, well-muscled, clearly in defiance of the terribly warm weather in Cyrodiil, which 'Nari could appreciate, although he'd heard that dunmer preferred much warmer climes than even Cyrodiil.
"No need to be nervous," he continued. "She doesn't bite hard." He grinned, and 'Nari could only wonder whether this was a sign of potential friendship, or if he was laughing at him.
Does it really matter? The dunmer introduced himself, and Qa'Nari replied, "I'd rather not, but thanks. I'm Qa'Nari. And I'm not worried about Karstine biting." He grinned, revealing his own much more impressive collection of teeth. "She's practically an ohmes-raht, she's so elvish." Qa'Nari did not realise that this was a very Khajiit thing to say, and that the dunmer might actually consider Karst to be extremely feline. As a Cathay, Qa'Nari was much closer to his senche cousins than Karst was, especially as his own mixed heritage was nearly invisible.
He fell silent for a moment, unsure of what protocol was in conversation at this point. It was hard for Qa'Nari to feel at ease, especially among strangers. He decided to try and carry on this conversation- better than frowning after his distant cousin.
"So you're here for the journey as well, then? You look a hardy enough sort," Qa'Nari did not judge battle-readiness by body mass, so Vivian's slim build beside his own more sturdy one did not figure into his thinking. "Bit naked though," He smiled, which would have been a fearsome sight if it weren't that the expression was so gentle. "I could never do that, I'd feel like I had a big target painted on my chest." He beat his chest with a ringing sound.
|
|
|
Post by shadow666 on Jan 1, 2010 13:53:40 GMT
Mia had just decided to wait until Karst had finished speaking with the redguard before greeting her old friend, when a voice made her head turn almost 180 degrees. This movement made her lose her balance and made her topple onto the floor, with a chair over her. She cursed in dunmeri as she realized that even after all this time having a perfectly played out conversation clear in her head, seeing him made her lose all of it, and hence resulted in her tangled mess on the floor with the chair.
Dammit! why did i have to wear something so damn awkward to move in.. I doubt that monks ever needed to move around quickly, let alone spin in circle after hearing the voice of someone they had to leave so long ago.. The breton girl thought to herself, still having difficulty getting her robe untangled so she could get back up before causing much more of a commotion.
Having not seen Vivian's face, she did not know how much had changed about him. All she knew was that he was here, and she was not at all presentable in her current state on the floor. "Happens every damn time.. why am i still such a clutz?" she muttered to herself as she was finally able to move the chair, but still not able to get herself on her feet.
Even after all this time, it appeared that Mia still seemed to be affected by the dunmer. it always infuriated her that one man could make her act ridiculously and make a fool of herself whenever he was around. But the seriousness began to sink back in when she realised that she made a commotion.
so much for being inconspicuous.. the girl thought angrily, realising that if anyone else came over and recognised who she was.. then well things might get rowdy.
|
|
|
Post by FC4 on Jan 1, 2010 15:24:08 GMT
OOC: Illusionary!
IC: Vivian grinned at the Khajiit when he mentioned that Karst was too Ohmes-raht, making her pretty much elvish. It translated to nearly nothing in his mind, but it meant something for this Qa'Nari fellow. Qa'Nari fell silent for a moment, and Vivian watched as the robed fellow near Karst turned and took a tumble for the worst, getting tangled in a chair. Vivian stepped forward to help, but two men beat him to the punch to help the person to their feet.
"So you're here for the journey as well, then? You look a hardy enough sort, Bit naked though," Qa'Nari smiled, which would have looked extremely intimidating to someone who didn't figure that he was making friendly banter. "I could never do that, I'd feel like I had a big target painted on my chest." He beat his chest with a ringing sound that made Vivian grin again.
"Well, each person battles with their own style, and to me," Vivian rapped his knuckle on the Khajiit's armored chest and listened to the ring. "That sounds like an iron weight on my back, restricting my movement. No armor is completely impenetrable, so I prefer to try and not get hit, rather than take the hit, know what I mean?"
|
|
Chriso
Apprentice
The Birdman
Posts: 97
|
Post by Chriso on Jan 1, 2010 15:40:08 GMT
OOC: Ugh, sorry if I've been holding people up!
As he sat down on the wooden chair, Jartod started to regret being so forward with Karst; it may have looked rude, or intruded her personal space — and being in people’s faces was Jartod biggest flaw; he knew it, and all his friends knew it. Dammit, I got to stop being like that…
Thankfully, however, the crossbreed chuckled back, allowing Jartod to put himself at ease. To the Redguard, this was a fantastic sign: it showed that she was comfortable around him, making him feel relaxed around her. Though, the best part was next.
"A beer for the good man, if you'd be so kind, dear," Karst requested gently, pulling some coins from her vest pocket and placing them in her hand. Like a loyal dog, the waitress rushed off to fetch Jartod a drink.
The Redguard’s face lit up with delight and he couldn’t help a clown-like grin emerge. The beer treated Jartod’s nostrils with its scent, and the man wasted no time gulping down the fluid. He closed his eyes briefly as he bathed in the drink’s glory —truly, this was one of the best beers Jartod ever had the chance to enjoy.
Despite the pleasure the beer provided Jartod, the man couldn’t help but find a fault: he didn’t even bother saying thank you. Shit! That ain’t good, that ain’t good! Even worse, before the Redguard could show his gratitude, Karst spoke up, breaking what must have been a very awkward silence.
"So, uh… Jartod," Karst glanced over at the warrior curiously, "What made you want to sign up for this? If… it's okay for me to ask."
Good question. Good question indeed. Why did Jartod sign up for it? Even he had mostly forgotten. The question stung, though; it brought back the powerful feelings of guilt Jartod wanted to forget — but he wasn’t going to ignore Karst this time.
“You know, I have little idea myself,” Jartod said weakly as he nursed his drink, looking for answers. “I think that at first it seemed like a great adventure or something, and heck, even the people of my village said it’d be great for me… But now, I’m startin’ to think it was mistake; those guys can't do much on their own. Can’t go back now, though; it’s too late for that… unless I wanna look like a pathetic quitter.” Soon after speaking, Jartod noticed he was starting to bring the mood down. Quickly, the man sat up on his chair and tried to smile. “But who knows, maybe a lot of good things will come out of this! I’m just trying to look at the positives… and I really think that maybe, this could be an adventure of a life time.” The Redguard realised he was rambling, and if it was anyone else speaking, he would have been put to sleep. “Anyway, enough about me — I’m sure you’re dead bored! Sorry, I’m always like this, I think it is because-,”
In the corner of his large eyes, Jartod caught something he found personally quite disturbing. He couldn’t ignore the Khajiit-like creature (sort of like Karst), fidgeting in the background. The man didn’t look too happy either… and this personally unnerved the Redguard a fair amount — this wasn’t helped by another man joining her. The Dunmer who stood by the Khajiit’s side had a rather piercing look in his eye; he certainly did not appear to be friendly at all. Even though his clothes were reasonably normal (if you ignore the fact that it’s very cold outside), the assortment of knives attached to him wasn’t. In no time tall, the two men started to chat; Jartod couldn’t decipher the conversation, but was very wary. However, due to their ‘adventurer-like’ equipment, Jartod had two thoughts: they were meant to be with the group – which would be a good thing – or they were at the inn to cause a bit of trouble. In any case, the Redguard was curious, and he wanted to speak up.
“Sorry, Karst; I’ll be back with you in a sec,” Jartod said with corner of his lips as he turned to the two men. “Hey, you two. Are you looking for Karst? If you are, you must be blind; she’s right here,” Jartod asked confidently, “Or are you here for something else?” ‘Something else’ meaning a brawl. Though, with Jartod being a friendly fellow, he tried to add a little joke into the mix, just in case they were to be his comrades. “I’m just askin’, because you two look like planks standing there!”
Once again, Jartod regretted being so forward, barely resisting smacking his palm to his face. I hope I haven’t screwed up here…
|
|
|
Post by FC4 on Jan 1, 2010 16:28:30 GMT
Vivian raised an eyebrow as the Redguard turned away from Karst and approached the two of them, addressing them in what had to be the finest quote of the year.
“Hey, you two. Are you looking for Karst? If you are, you must be blind; she’s right here, or are you here for something else?" The Redguard asked, and Vivian raised his eyebrow further, giving a mocking grin.
"Yeah, I'm waiting for Emperor Martin to get out of the statue and walk again." Vivian responded, unfolding his arms and lazily gesturing at Karst. "I spent the entire Crisis with that insane furball, its only courteous of me to let you spend some time with her."
"And if I look like a plank, you must be color blind." Vivian thumbed at himself, referring to the steel gray color of his skin. "The name is Vivian Marcy. And considering you were just talking with Karst, I presume you are joining me and my new friend here on her little joy ride to Azura knows where. Congratulations." Vivian smiled warmly.
|
|
|
Post by shadow666 on Jan 1, 2010 16:59:13 GMT
To her relief, or distaste, Mia found herself helped up by two other patrons who had seen her fall. Dusting herself off, she looked at the two men and thanked them before noticing the redguard get up to meet Vivian and the other Khajiit. The breton smiled seeing the space free next to Karst, and so Mia sat in the empty chair.
Glancing once more at Vivian before turning her head other to the Khajiit woman next to her, she smiled before placing her hand over Karst's drink and moved it aside. "You do realise you won't be able to brief the others if you drink too much" The girl said as she looked down at the glass swirling the contents inside it around a bit. Not waiting for Karst to reply, knowing that if Mia did not get a few more words in the feline would proceed to crush the fragile frame of the Breton, she continued.
"I'm glad you had something.. intriguing to bring us all back together like this.." Mia paused as she looked up, and noticing Vivian's face and especially his ear. when he finally notices me i know that hes going to have a few words to speak to me.. she thought to herself and noticed that she had trailed off. But she couldn't help it. The man that she had left behind for his own protection had come back into her life.. The only problem is that she did not know if he forgave her for her sudden disappearance a couple of years ago.
|
|