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Post by Vicorva on Jul 19, 2008 11:22:23 GMT
OOC: I won't be on for much today: especially not until this evening, if at all. Try not to jump too far ahead...
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Post by FC4 on Jul 19, 2008 12:25:05 GMT
OOC: Since Glaen's still waiting for instructions as to joining the guild, and I have an 8 hour work day today, there isn't much I can do anyways. *shrugs*
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 20, 2008 12:32:44 GMT
Zohara gave Glaen a gentle smile. "Luxury rooms are upstairs, basic rooms are in the basement. There is more than enough of both. We eat in the inn, free of charge. Just fill your name in on the ledger in the library.
She turned away from him, and peered out the door at all the other people waiting outside. Gods... did Guild members usually come in floods, all at the same time? She supposed she'd find out. "If any of the rest of you are wanting in, just step right up," she called, a mixture of amusement and surprise in her voice.
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Post by FC4 on Jul 20, 2008 13:24:38 GMT
Glaen did not reply, as Zohara went on with the others anyways. Turning away, he thought on what he would do. Basic sounds best. I don't need luxury. Hell, I would sleep outside if not for the damned reaction to the sun. I'll like make snow in the room anyways. He told himself as he walked calmly to the library.
The double doors were already open, and Glaen walked in carefully. With each step he mentally cringed, worried his power would flare and ruin the books. But that worry was lost in a wonder he'd never found himself in before.
He'd traversed frozen plains, climbed frosty peaks; but he had never once in his life stepped into a library. Glaen's typically calm gaze became one of wonder as he looked at all the shelves of books. He had only ever heard of books, rarely ever seen them. And never read one. Glaen neared one of the shelves, slowly reaching for a book.
When that book iced over, his hand but an inch from the spine, Glaen retracted his hand. The ice melted off. Glaen sighed, and looked for the ledger. What exactly is a ledger? She wanted me to put my name on it. Glaen looked around to see a book laying open on a podium.
Approaching it, Glaen looked at what was written. There were three columns. And one listing in the first column, and the other two blank. Glaen guessed it to be the ledger, so he found a quill and inkwell and reached for the quill, which was poking from the inkwell.
When his skin touched the feather, it iced over around his fingers, and the ink within the quill hardened. When Glaen put the tip of the quill to the parchment, he realized two things; the ink was frozen and would not leave the quill, and he had no idea how to write his own name.
"Um... hmm..." crap. Glaen sighed, and laid the quill on the table next to the inkwell. Being a nomad all his life; he never had to learn to read or write in the past, as it was never relevant to his life. The tribe passed on their knowledge through tales and folk lore stories.
So how was he supposed to join the guild now?
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 20, 2008 15:58:59 GMT
Vantustius watched for a while longer, after he had devoured the apple, core and all. He was still slightly hungry... but he would make do with what he had. He had to go and sell the Marshmallow anyway, as it was rare around Anvil, and the Mage's Guild would pay wonderfully for it. He didn't know who those people that had just gathered around that place were, but he didn't really have anything that made him want to go over and talk with them either.
Smiling happily at the brief entertainment, Vantustius bounced away down the street, towards the Mage's guild head in Anvil. His pleasure at the day in general heading towards a good ending was palpable, and he could seemingly sense it in the air around him, in the warm heat of the sun as it beat down upon him, in the cooling sea breeze that washed over the town in general, in the scent of salt that hung in the air, the port town always smelling somewhat of the ocean... Even in the less natural parts of town, he could feel it, in the streets below him, in the trees that he passed, with a flyer fluttering gently in the breeze...
Vantustius paused when he saw this flyer, cocking his head to one side. He hadn't ever seen that before. But, then again, he lived in the poor section of the town, NO ONE ever went there besides those that couldn't afford to go anywhere else. And, when he wasn't there, he was out on the beach, with his little garden all to himself. That kind of lowered his chance to notice these things. But, regardless of why he hadn't seen it yet, he saw it now, so be bounced happily over, taking the flyer from the tree, and beginning to read.
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adeth
Novice
Adeth of Fatum Semitaem
Posts: 31
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Post by adeth on Jul 20, 2008 16:24:12 GMT
(I think im either lazy, tired or cant focus on reading...I'd love to know where everyone is. And before that, I'll write a little prequel for my paranoid little Adeth. )
It had been a nice night for Adeth, a man in his twenties with a bit of a nervous looks about him. The Man was walking down the road towards the city of Anvil as if something dragged him there. He had come out of an unhabitated cave not too long ago, with his hand holding something under his cloak, hiding what he had found.
He was afraid someone would come and take the item he was carrying as it was...felt very expensive, valuable and even hypnotising. He had been looking over his shoulder after he had left the cave, he knew someone or something was following him. He could feel it. The eyes in his mind. When i reach Anvil i will be safe...No one will find me among...among the people there. I'll be alright. He thought nervously as if he was only half convinced.
He didn't really know why he had thought it'd be so, but he didn't care as he was running and trying to not look suspicious. Adeth was as suspicious as a beggar near a stall outside if seen from a far or close. Something was pushing or dragging him onward. He stopped to catch his breath in the shade of a few trees, blocking the view to the road. He pulled his hand out of his coat pocket to once again admire what he had found in the small cave.
It was a mask that shone like it was metal, It felt metallic too but it was far too light. Mithril He suspected but it was less likely. The weight and ornaments weren't what caught Adeth's eye thouguh. It was the blood red gem on the mask's forehead. He ran a hand from side to side and just admired the gem, strangely not reaching for it with his hands though. But as he touched and looked at the mask more, he got another hunch. Again he felt as if someone was watching. He heard something from the bushes around him and stood up fast and started to run for Anvil.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jul 20, 2008 17:44:25 GMT
Alderin watched curiously as the Imperial lad who'd been standing in front of the grand manor suddenly turned, and began bouncing rather enthusiastically down the street. What in the hell is he so happy about? the Altmer wondered. Glancing up at the manor's entrance and no longer seeing the Walking Snowball there, he made his way forward, rolling his eyes slightly as he did so. "It's gonna be one of those days, then..." he grumbled under his breath.
When he reached the entrance, still slightly damp from the melting ice, he noted the trio of Redguards standing around the doorway. He looked to the woman who'd called out, still fairly young by the looks of it, and with neither of the other Redguards currently speaking to her, stepped forward.
"May I assume that you're the head of the guild here?" he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. "I am Alderin Megdar, Arcane Engineer!" he cried out, both pride and enthusiasm in his voice. "While I'm not what you call an 'Old Blood,' I believe my unique talents will be invaluable to your efforts here," he explained with unshaking confidence.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 21, 2008 12:11:34 GMT
Zohara looked him up and down. An Arcane engineer. That would make him a mage- and thus a new blood. "You're a mage: that means I can say with certainty you are a New Blood," she said. "My name is Zohara," she was surprised he didn't recognise her: she was an extremely famous mercenary, and was infamous for her falling-out with the mages' guild. "You are welcome in this Guild. Fill in the ledger in the Libarary. Luxury rooms are upstairs, basic downstairs. We eat free of charge in the inn, and all resources are open to you." She seemed to struggle wiht herself for a moment, before asking in a pained voice, "You aren't from the Mages' Guild, are you?" she said the words with great distaste. ---------------- Nika had been wandering around the library, awed by all that she had seen. So many, many books... a good deal of them looking ancient, beyond history that she could call to mind. And I can call an awful lot of history to mind... the Bard thought wryly. It was, afterall, in her vocation to know the lore of all things. She was glad the Guild had reserved judgement on the Birthright Guild. So long as the Thieves' did not ban it, she could make good use of their resources. She noticed the frosty man she'd seen earlier was at the ledger, looking confused. He didn't look quite as cold now, but he did look rather ill. And panicky... she thought. She gavce him a flickering smile as she neared: just enough to be friendly and instill confidence. "Having some trouble?" she asked. Almost without thinking, her mind reached out to his. Frozen quill... she gleaned, roughly. Never learned to read or write... Abruptly, the moment ended. She forced back a groan of pain as a headache grew. She looked at the ledger. The quill was frozen. She didn't entirely know what was going on, but she was clever enough to realise that his proximity had caused this- as it had earlier when she passed him. Perhaps he was not under some enchantment to keep things cool. Perhaps this was some spell out of control, or even- heavens forbid- an old blood. "Step back," she told him, sighing. "Tell me your name. I'll sign in for you." She rummaged around in her pack and withdrew a quill. OOC: Remember to post in Tamriellic Dragons, guys!
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Post by FC4 on Jul 21, 2008 12:28:17 GMT
Glaen nodded his head, giving her a soft whisper of a thank you as he did so. Stepping back, the quill he had touched back begun to melt, the water in the ink unfreezing and making the ink watery again. The ink began to bleed onto the table surface.
When Glaen saw this, he mentally cringed, but remained stoic outside. Why must everything get destroyed around me? "My name is Glaen Frost-Beard." He told her smoothly. "I'm an Old Blood, I think..." Glaen's hand subconsciously moved to the frozen parchment in his pocket, unrolling it with a crackle of ice and looking at it. A kind man on the way to Anvil had read the parchment for him, to tell him what was on it.
Now Glaen wished he could read on his own. He did not like having to rely on others, as he always considered himself self-sufficient.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jul 22, 2008 0:41:07 GMT
Mage's Guild? Alderin quickly shook his head from side to side, the distaste in Zohara's voice mirrored in his expression. "No, I can say with some sense of satisfaction that I have nothing to do with that band of morons," he replied smugly. "Buncha goldbricking, stonewalling, bureaucratic assholes, with their member fees and their service charges." The Altmer rolled his eyes in an exasperated gesture. "Besides, they let my idiot brother join on. There's no telling what they're capable of."
Glancing momentarily at the other two Redguards behind him, Alderin looked back at Zohara and gave a slight nod. "Well then, I trust we'll talk later. Until then, I suppose I best sign that ledger, and begin setting up my lab." With another nod, Alderin stepped inside the manor, and marvelled at the grand interior, making his way to the library.
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 22, 2008 2:14:35 GMT
Saragos opened his mouth to say something when Zohara invited the three of them in, but at the same time had been about to reply to Jarrod's offer. He turned his head quickly to Zohara, then to Jarrod, then back and forth again, ending with Jarrod.
"Ah, er- thank you," he said politely to Jarrod, bowing his head to the young man respectfully. "But you may wish to come in fairly soon yourself, you seem to be terribly cold out here." That said, he proceeded up the remaining two steps to the porch and entered the manor, Alderin having just left the doorway. Come to think of it, I think I feel a slight chill myself...
The Count's usual company consisted of aristocrats and nobles. Admittedly, he looked out of place here, but he maintained an air of authority. Not the title-given noble air found in Anvil's courts, but a more firm authority.
Folding his hands behind his back he waited patiently for the Nord to finish with Zohara, his eyes wandering about the room he stood in.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 22, 2008 10:36:50 GMT
OOC: I'm afraid I'm not going to be on again today. Should be on lots tomorrow though.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 22, 2008 19:39:29 GMT
"Glaen Frost-Beard..." Nika murmured. "Old Blood..." She finished and stepped back, a look of satisfaction on her face. She was certain she'd spelled his name right: she was familiar with the basics of nordic grammar, at least. She turned and looked at the cold-looking man.
"An old blood..." she said, her voice dubious, though in her heart she felt a flutter of excitement. So they do exist... she thought. The proof was in his seemingly uncontrollable ice-spells. "I suppose ice is you power, then? Seems fitting, for a Nord." She gave a small, polite smile. Though she was a friendly person, she wasn't here to make friends. Until her Guild said these guys were friends, she did not consider them friends.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 22, 2008 20:43:55 GMT
Vantustius stared at the paper, then reached up and tore it off with a flourish that only a person like he could produce. Cheerful, exuberant, yet aggressive at the same time, like a kid that had ripped something completely on accident. He turned on his heel in the same motion, using the momentum from the turn to twist his body around, and leaned against the tree, gazing at the flyer once more. Old Bloods and new Bloods? Birthright Guild? Hehe, that certainly explained those odd characters earlier. Was that the Guild?
He looked down at his own hand, which was leaving dirty marks of sand and grime on the previously pristine paper. Then again, he wasn't exactly NORMAL himself, could he really think them to be really strange? He paused for a moment, biting his bottom lip.
It tasted like sand.
Finally, he decided that he could. After all, he was considered strange. That is, if anyone besides him actually KNEW about his power, he had always been careful about that one. But, if he was strange, why not be around other strange people? Would that make him normal? Or would it simply mean that he was a member of a coven of different freaks? He thought about this for a moment, raising a hand to push his bottom lip up slightly, giving it an odd, puckered look.
These thoughts depressed him.
So he thought of something different! He thought of how much fun that it would be to be with those people! They were all really strange, really interesting, this would be fun!
They might have food, too. He always loved food.
That settled it. He was going to go and make himself a member of the guild! Yep yep!
He bounced happily down the street again, back to the manor. Jumping up the stairs one at a time as though he were playing hopscotch, he arrived at the door, where the Redguard was talking with a bunch of people. Yay, they were more people like him? He always enjoyed being around people that he felt like he knew. "Hiya!" He chirruped, completely disregarding that anyone else was talking. A wide grin on his face, that revealed fairly yellowed teeth as he couldn't exactly afford to take care of them, he waited for them to acknowledge him, rocking back and forth on his heels.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 22, 2008 22:16:59 GMT
OOC: I swear, Web. Evil or Mad. Great character... IC: Zohara laid a calm eye on a bouncy young imperial lad. She raised both eyebrows. "Yeah, Hi," she replied, struggling not to laugh at the strange sight. "Um... if you're here... if any of you are here..." she said, disengaging herself from the momentary distraction of the young man to look at the others. "To join the Guild, sign your name in the ledger. Then you have the run of the place."
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