Fantasy The Elder Scrolls V: A New Rule

[MimiWanKenobi1994]

The wolf woman seemed no danger to Savina at the moment. She had no qualms with any of them. She just wanted to stay out of trouble for now, or for as long as she could. She continued to listen to the others speak. She had nothing to say at the moment, and wanted to stay quiet so she could think. Suddenly, a males voice filled the cave. Odd. She quickly grabbed a dagger from her leg and allowed the magicka within her to build up, preparing to hurl more fire balls if needed. She didn't recognize this man. Nor did she remember him being inside of the tavern before the fire and killing or after. After all the treachery of the Thalmor and the death she had witness that night, the young Breton was not in a very trusting mood when it came to strange men she had never seen before. Though he was warning them all, it didn't feel right to her. "And why would you want to warn us, a bunch of fugitives, about the Thalmor?"


It didn't sit well in the pit of her stomach. 

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Victoria pulled off her hood as the newcomer waltzed in. Victoria's icy eyes fixated on the glowing ones of the vampires. Vampirism had always been a fascination to her, she even considered becoming a vampire at one point to increase her skills as a thief, but she assumes the glowing eyes would be a problem. Victoria wore her set of black master thieves guild armor, only showing she was a theif. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she paced. 


"Sixten J. A vampire of course, legionarie, seeking to also rid of the Thalmor." Victoria stopped, looking directly at him, she knew him because she sent him a letter. "Am I right?" 


@Obsidian


@SolistheSun @ThatDove @SeaChelle1994 @Lorkhan

 

[LucidSol]

[SIZE= 14px][COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 128)]Raz'Mras[/COLOR][/SIZE]


Raz didn't bother explaining to the pointed-eared creature that Stander and Arkay were both gods to the Bosmer as well. Well, let the ignorant be ignorant if they have no will to learn.  As for the werewolf, Raz merely snorted in slight amusement at her acknowledging what she'd said. Raz was going to quip something at it, but there was no sense in stabbing an exposed nerve, heh. After all, she was probably bare-skinned under that armor, perhaps a little too breezy.


"Fugitive, aye? That's no change for me," Raz bluntly states, stretching her shoulders, "Just means a couple grand added to my bounty. It was always a little extreme." 


Now, she may have said this rather nonchalantly, but her bounty was actually in the grands already, and unknowingly to her, it just increased not two, but five. Her bounty was over seven thousand gold septims. A fortune that could set up a family for several years if everything was rationed appropriately. To her, being a fugitive was no laughing matter and for a second her face hardened at the young Breton's overly optimistic attitude. A new adventure? Nah, more like hell; every free-lancing bounty-hunter within a 20 mile radius was out looking for you. 


Slipping a hand off the stalagmite, she turns, bristling and her hands itching for her sword, but she played smart and merely politely smiled at the blood-drinker. He was indeed outnumbered, and as he drew slightly nearer, his hand on a sword hilt, Raz did the same. Indeed, there was a certain idiocy at the precaution that only one who looked back in hind-sight would understand. 


"Ahh, so you know my name, Tribune, the Savior of Dawnstar?" Raz says sarcastically, rolling her fingers out in a lackadaisical manner. The smell of the sea was on this man, carried by the shallow breeze that dared entered the cave-mouth. He was well known to her, for his name carried weight in both Solitude and Dawnstar- Markarth too, when looking for particularly tasty rumors and small talk. 



"You know, Cap'n Stendhal, sir, why's such a man like you wanting to give dear little refugee's like us help? Surely you'd like to carve us up to bits and take our heads back as trophies?" the Argonian-named Nord dramatically declares, pretending to swoon, only doing so to mock his position as a Legion's dog and as a Thalmor's b***h. She ignored the thief and un-cultered Bosmer. Raz was tempted to bash her with the shield she'd dropped earlier. But that aside, she hope the exalted soldier had a sense of humor.


@Obsidian @ThatDove @SeaChelle1994 @Lorkhan @DarknessSpirit

 

[SidTheSkid]

 
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Spoiler

(Vampiric armor)(Sixten J. Stendahl)(Location: Riften Caverns)(With: Raz'Mras, Savina, Victoria, and Eleanore)
​

[SIZE=13.333333333333332px]Sixten’s eyebrow slightly ascended beyond his vermilion veil as he heard the muffled canine-like snarl ejecting itself out from the rather youthful woman while examining her once undistinguished facial expression turn into a menacing frown that had touched each curve of her mouth. As expected, the abnormality in that relatively quiet Imperial shined itself as soon as he sensed his presence, a werewolf’s keen perception is to be noted, especially as intune as it is with this mysterious girl. Perhaps she had already discovered his own bloodline through that curious nose of hers? Or maybe it was the quite obvious gleam in his both of his eyes which had radiated a dark-flaxen hued fluoresce, nonetheless his barrage of inner-conflictions was answered as Sixten’s attentive ears welcomed the imprudent words that had strung out from this petite frame of a lady. A small chuckle temporarily erupted out from the obscured mug of the masked person before he took a small step forward which had resulted in him plunging his masculine figure in the direction of the unsuspecting imperial, a sinister flicker shined amidst the orange pigment in his iris as the trail of surrounding darkness bursted out from behind him all while concealing his body in the murky shade of the cavern. His jagged gauntlets stretch out to the side as he reveals himself in front of Eleanore with a disturbing fragrance of dried blood dispelling into the lukewarm air which had lightly brushed against the nostrils of all those in the immediate area. Sixten’s threatening pupils constricted heavily as he fixated himself up against the front of her body while asserting his dominance. [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]“You’re quite the catty one aren’t you?” Those spiteful words of yours nearly broke my heart. As for your comment goes, good thing i’m not your average ‘vampire’.” Pure-bloods far surpass that of the mindless squabble! You know maybe if i’m grateful enough I can purge that illness which travels through your very bloodstream as my generosity seems to know no bounds today.” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=13.333333333333332px]He asserted out from his rigid lips then leisurely twisting himself around so that he was facing the other members of the group, nearly everyone of them appeared to be staring him down with a suspicious intent, and to think that his own imperial soldiers were hard to please at times. This was becoming that of a small irritation to him as he continued about his speech.[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] “Wolf girl, I apologize for my rude behavior. I understand that all of you have been through quite a lot this evening and seeing a sight that you saw earlier could even give the strongest of battle-hardened warriors an emotional slip-up. As for which side you might be wondering that i’m on? Well i’m on no-one’s side except for my own. However i hold a strong vendetta against the Thalmor and i’m willing to lend out a hand to those who might be working against them. Which actually reminds me.”[/SIZE][SIZE=13.333333333333332px] Sixten concludes while addressing Victoria by approaching her quietly and retrieving the neatly-tied scroll from out of one of his satchels that fitted his waist. Another overbearing sigh seemed to have left from his diaphragm after she unknowingly ruined his disguise. Now it seems that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter but to help him as this group could reveal his true identity to the Imperial Legion, foiling his plans indefinitely.[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] “You know, secrets are often meant to be kept. Nonetheless i cannot blame you.” [/SIZE][SIZE=13.333333333333332px]He ascends his unclenched hands upward towards the edges of his veil and grasps the material tightly before lifting it up off from his head and divulging his own identity as a well-known Imperial Tribune. The flocking locks of his dingy blonde hair sink delicately down towards his nicely-shaped stubbled which had graced the lower portion of his face. Sixten then releases his grasp upon the mask as he placed it onto the peak of one of the stalagmites nearby, afterwards he extended out his finger and pointed in the direction of Savina whom had fiercely interrogated him with her sharpened daggers at the ready. [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]“Even for my high-rank in the legion, i’ve also been betrayed by these Thalmor bastards. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=13.3333px]Our own kin have been slain one by one by them and i’ve seen one of my own men crumble before his own daughter as she laid a charred corpse across from him. I may have done questionable things but i don’t slay children!”[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] His voice echoed throughout the cave in a vociferous fashion as his brow furrowed in vexation. The outline of his body trembled as he crunched his rugged palms into a fist as he edged his tough back up against one of the rocky walls of the dampened cave. Sixten passively unsheathed his blade by its tremendous hilt before placing the pinnacle of the edged weapon into the ground beneath him as he regained his composure and looked back once more at Raz’Mras, a soft yet relieving smile came about his face after hearing what she had to say to him. The passive aggressive tone that she emitted was quite enjoyable as he continued to smile after the fugitive had concluded. [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]“Ha, are you trying to be sarcastic or are you trying to flatter me by naming me by my titles? If anything you should know me for my atrocious-side. ‘Nightmare of the holds’, Mehrunes Dagons bastard child, and so the list goes on and on. Interesting isn’t it? We all seem to remember the evil in people but when it comes to the good? It all brushes away in the wind like a whisper and all is forgotten. But it’s fortunate that a few remember at the very least.[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]” He stretched himself alongside the dense surface of an enclosed passageway and staring the woman down with mediocre amusement strewn about his face. [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]"Well i don't know it seemed that the fairy god-mother came up to me one morning and decided that it would be a fantastic idea to help out a couple of run-away fugitives. But as much as I want to see your gorgeous ass behind shackles, i believe that you've already served your sentence. Besides killing Thalmor? You're doing the world a favor and saving countless lives, if anything you're helping me out in my own endeavors. Speaking of this, i actually have a proposition for you Raz'Mras, although i'm quite positive you want something in return for this favor of mine. We can speak about this later in private whenever you're not around these interesting delinquents." [/SIZE]


@SeaChelle1994


@DarknessSpirit


@ThatDove


@Lorkhan

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Victoria smiled a guilty grin as she revealed his disguise, to his dismay. Victoria circled around him, then the entire group as she spoke "It doesn't matter, if they know who you are, not with the proposition I have for them." Victoria grinned and addressed the entire cave.  "The Thalmor will not hesitate to kill all of you the moment they find you they will kill you, they will hunt you down like a dog...I'm gonna cut to the chase because we don't have lot of time. I've been eliminating groups of Thalmor, I want to rid them of Skyrim, but I need people with a burning hate for them, or the ambition to rid of them for their own needs."  She looked at Sixten at there words, then scanned the faces of everyone else. "If you don't help me, that's your choice and you can choose to flee Skyrim, but they'll only track you didn't one way or another, or you can take up this offer." 


@Lorkhan


@SeaChelle1994


@SolistheSun


@Oblivion


@ThatDove

 

[Abendrot]

Jeelum was already regretting his decision. The cave seemed to go on for miles, black as pitch, and the longer he fumbled about in the darkness, the more certain he was that he was ever so faintly hearing voices. And that stench, was that . . . blood? That alone was enough to send a shiver through his scales, yet for whatever reason, Jeelum continued to press forward. Stubborn as a bull. he thought. A prime trait in Jeelum's family, or so he'd been told. As the Argonian peered around the next corner, he found the light of a campfire burning on the other side, small as a candle at this distance. With a hand resting on the hilt of his machete, Jeelum crept towards the light and ventured into the spacious chamber that housed the light, as well as that horrid stench of death that had unsettled him so. Several women stood about inside, all of whom were familiar to Jeelum: standing here was the Imperial named Lynne, who he'd shared an ale with back at the Bee and Barb. Gone was her regular merchant's attire, instead replaced with armor fit for a warrior twice her size. Over there, he saw the Breton lady he'd shared a word with back at Riften, now with a pair of daggers at her belt. The only one he didn't recognize at all, even vaguely, was the masked man cloaked in red who held himself with an arrogance almost as noticeable as his flashy garb. None of them seemed to see the unnerving amount of gore that lay at their feet. The corpses of bandits and vagabonds were everywhere, not simply killed, but ripped apart. Limbs had been separated from their owners, sitting in pools of dark blood. The bandits' faces, what little of them remained intact, were contorted with the pain and shock of their last moments, their chests ripped apart and snatched of their hearts. Jeelum struggled to maintain a stiff face, both from the sight and from the smell.


Standing above everyone despite her short Bosmer stature was a young woman dressed in Riften thief's armor. Jeelum had entered the chamber in time to hear her announcement: 


"It doesn't matter, if they know who you are, not with the proposition I have for them. The Thalmor will not hesitate to kill all of you the moment they find you they will kill you, they will hunt you down like a dog...I'm gonna cut to the chase because we don't have lot of time. I've been eliminating groups of Thalmor, I want to rid them of Skyrim, but I need people with a burning hate for them, or the ambition to rid of them for their own needs.If you don't help me, that's your choice and you can choose to flee Skyrim, but they'll only track you didn't one way or another, or you can take up this offer." 


"Am I interrupting something" Jeelum chimed in after a moment's silence. Admittedly, he found himself a little skeptical of the Bosmer's claims. The Thalmor weren't omniscient; they couldn't have taken into account every single person who managed to escape the city. At worst, a random soldier might recognize his face from the riots, but nothing else, really.


@Everyone in the cave

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

It was late by the time Saorat arrived back at the camp with the frightened fugitives closely behind her. Ruadh was standing watch that night and let fly a few arrows in their direction as the night-blind humans stumbled through the darkness. “Don’t shoot!” she cried once she realised what was going on “It’s just me.” The man stood down and she walked into the range of the dying fire, followed by a couple of the citizens of Riften. When she saw his gaze reach them, she scratched at her ear sheepishly and whispered “Well… Mostly just me…”


Ruadh’s face hardened, but he managed to keep a civil expression. “Pardon us…” he said calmly to the assembled group “Your friend and I need to have a word…”
He grabbed her arm and led her away out of earshot of the others. “What in Oblivion do you think you’re doing?!” he whispered furiously “You were supposed to find one officer, not the entire town! And to bring them back here? Are you mad? Any one of them could be an informant!”
Saorat said nothing during his attack; she knew he was right, but glared at him at the final accusation.
“What do you take me for?” she hissed, leaning close to his face. “I may be a fool, but I’m no traitor. I didn’t say a word to them about us, they’ll never know unless you make a scene. What was I supposed to do anyway? People were dying, Ruadh. Someone had to help them, and you know those elves wouldn’t.”
Ruadh snorted in disgust and shook his head angrily. Saorat interrupted him before he could speak again.
“They were behind this. They attacked the city - killed the citizens, burned the buildings. And there was a man-beast!”


Their conversation woke one of the soldiers sleeping nearby. “Aren’t you a little old to be bothered by night-terrors, Saor?” he asked with a smirk, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Werewolves are just tales to frighten silly young children. And imaginative young cats as well, it would seem.”
She whirled on him with a glare. “Perhaps you’d like to go back to sleep, then, and hope the ‘dream’ doesn’t come to you as well. If it does, you’ll likely not dream again.” The man grumbled a bit, but said no more. Saorat turned her attention back to Ruadh.
“I did see a man-beast. It ripped through the Thalmor’s armor like it was nothing. After the attack, it ran this way.” A wolf’s howl split the night, and both startled slightly. When she had recovered, Saorat whispered “It could be anywhere by now… We need to get everyone to shelter.”
Ruadh sighed and shook his head slowly, trying to work out how they were expected to care for a group of refugees when they had trouble even feeding themselves and hardly dared show their faces for fear of capture. But as he looked over the frightened faces, he felt for them in his heart, and knew that they couldn’t turn their backs on them.


“Alright, we break camp immediately. Aemon.” the man who spoke earlier blinked his eyes open and saluted. “Yes, sir?”
“That cave you and Jorgn found earlier. How far away is it?”
“Oh, no more than a short walk, I’m sure. Maybe fifteen minutes away?”
“Is it inhabited?”
“Not at all! Didn’t look like anything had been there for months. And it’s easily defensible, too. It would be a grand base of attack!”
“I like your spirit, lad, but let’s focus on one thing at a time. Can you lead us there?”
“Aye, sir!”


With their destination settled, it was time to get moving. Aemon wasted no time in telling Jorgn how he had a special scouting mission, much to his cousin’s envy. Saorat woke Fira, who had been worried sick about her friend and embraced her joyfully. They gathered up their meagre supplies, stifled the fire, and moved out. After blundering about for a half-hour or so, Aemon finally stumbled upon the cave. “There it is!” he cried in delight “No trouble at all, I knew I’d find it. I’ll check it out.” He approached the mouth eagerly. “See, what did I tell you? Completely… uninhabited…” At the sight of movement inside the cave, he hurriedly drew his sword and cried “I saw something!”
The other soldiers immediately drew their weapons as well, but Ruadh and Jorgn approached first, motioning for the other two to hold back. Ruadh thrust a torch into the cave to see what was inside and burst into a hearty life. “Yes, fear, O mighty warrior, for this is the most terrifying being you’ll ever face… Women.” Saorat and Fira rolled their eyes behind his back, but put away their weapons.


Ever the diplomat, the Nord woman approached the mouth and spoke to the group assembled inside. “We’re sorry to disturb you, good friends. We’ll be going if you wish, but with your permission, we’d like to take shelter here. It’s cold and dark, and we have people who need help.” She motioned to Saorat behind her back, and she walked up beside her friend leading the child by the hand. “There was an attack in the city.” Saorat explained, stroking the child’s hair “These people are refugees.” Surely nobody would be so heartless as to refuse the frightened civilians, but the prospect of sheltering rebel fugitives was another case indeed.
 

 

[Abendrot]

Damien awoke with his face in a bale of hay, groaning from the aches in his head and the rope tied so tightly around his wrists. Outside his tent, he could hear distant voices, and the sound of footsteps coming nearer. Slightly panicked, Damien struggled to remove his bindings, but to no avail. His memory was hazy, and his thoughts were all a tumult. In his dazed state, he wobbled to his feet waddled about the tent in search of something -- anything -- he could use to cut his ropes. Why am i even here, again? Damien asked himself. Just as he did, a broad-shouldered Nord bustled into the tent, cloaked in blue linen. He did not look very happy. In a heartbeat, Damien found his face re-acquainted with the ground, his head ringing even worse that it had before. When is vision finally cleared, he noticed that the brute standing above him was holding a bludgeon in his hand -- Damien's bludgeon -- and only then did he realize what just happened. "We'll teach you what happens to thieves around here, scum." he snarled.


Oh, right.


Damien felt a wad of spit land on his cheek, and he was left alone in his tent once more. Stormcloaks did not make very good hosts, apparently.


@AlbaGuBrath

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Victoria sighed, frustrated and irritated as a voice interrupted her from behind. She spun around. Glaring at the Argonian a moment before regaining her composure. "Yes, you are. Do you need something lizard?" Victoria snapped, losing her patience with the lot of the crowd. She folded


her arms waiting for a response until not a moments later another voice rang out, refugees, seeking for shelter. She was sure the others in this cave would of glady welcomed them with open arms. Victoria spun around, muttering "If I had a coin for every time some damn people walked in here..." Victoria trailed off, now clearly irritated. "Sorry, full occupation. Couldn't squeeze another in here if you tried." Victoria said, serious and sarcastic at the same time, as the cave was clearly big enough for all of them. 


@Lorkhan


@AlbaGuBrath


@Everyone else 

 

[Abendrot]

Jeelum cringed for the umpteenth time since entering this cave. What was that she called him? A "lizard"? He sighed. There was nothing Jeelum loathed more than stereotypes, but this Bosmer . . . she was another one of those people, wasn't she. Prejudiced and flippant. With no small amount of venom in his voice, he answered the elf's cutting remarks. "Very well, Bosmer, this filthy Argonian will be brief. I am looking for shelter; have you any to spare?" The annoyance was clear in his voice, he thought. First the riots at Riften, and now this? As he awaited his response, Jeelum wondered what he'd done to make the Hist punish him so.


@DarknessSpirit

 

[LucidSol]

[SIZE= 14px][COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 128)]Raz'Mras[/COLOR][/SIZE]







"Too often people are blinded by black and whites, I agree, so I seek to see all the grays," Raz replies to the vampiric soldier, detecting his reciprocated amusement. Though her expression changed to one of slight surprise at his praise. Most people just tried to knife her in the back. Obviously this was not most people but still. Then he suggested a proposition of sorts. Which as she had not details, so that good be either a very good proposition or on that involved her becoming a drained corpse. Raz also chose to ignore his compliments, intentional or no. After a moment of thinking, she nods in return, "I'll hear of this offer later then." 


She turns from the Tribune upon listening to the Argonian from the tavern speak, "Hello again, Saxhleel, pardon the Bosmer. She's currently wound up tighter than dwemer machination. Anyone who asks for assistance or shelter here can have it. Cause I offer it."


 However, after that statement ironically, a troop of looked to be a rowdy gang of some-sort of bandit was speaking down into the cave, which had gone even quieter with their intrusion. After listening to what they had to stay, she meets the gaze of their leader, slightly annoyed at the constant change in atmosphere, curious to see if this was indeed a peaceful one or some sort of trick.


"Not to be disrespectful, but we're refugees too. Though we can help with injuries, the chances of us being found will be tripled with this many. Though this cave is extensive, so if we limit the people coming in and out we'll last," Raz contemplates aloud, the dark-haired Nord addresses the leader, hinting that even then, it could be a slaughter. Not to mention they hadn't even explored the rest of the cave. High chances there were trolls or bears. Riften was known for those repulsive creatures. 


@Obsidian @ThatDove @SeaChelle1994 @Lorkhan @DarknessSpirit @AlbaGuBrath

 

[SidTheSkid]

(Vampiric armor)(Sixten J. Stendahl)(Location: ???)(With: ???)
​

​

[SIZE=13.333333333333332px]Sixten carefully watched as he observed Victoria circle around him and then approach the vast group. A small huff of disapproval left from his rough lips after hearing what she had uttered near him. [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]“Hopefully you’re correct with this assumption of yours” [/SIZE][SIZE=13.333333333333332px]He blurted out as he crossed his arms overtop of each other in everlasting patience as she continued about her optimistic declaration with all whom encompassed the inner bowels of the dampened cave. Despite her unintentionally foiling his disguise he gained a slight admiration for her as he attentively heard the courageous words which had left from the young-woman’s mouth. If this were just an ordinary group of fugitives he would’ve probably scoffed at the fact that they were trying to take down the Thalmor but as his murky golden eyes scanned across the room and quietly analyzed each one, he noticed that they had a particular set of skills which were quite admirable. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=13.3333px]“Interesting, there might be something of actual value here.” [/SIZE][SIZE=13.333333333333332px]Sixten thought before approaching Raz’mras and smiling briefly at her response, he didn’t expect such wise words to come out of the mouth of this random criminal.[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] “To be noted Raz’mras, it seems that i’ve mistaken you at first. As for this offer of mine goes, i’d have to agree. I’d like this to be in my private and this cave seems to be getting filled to the brim. I’d love to stay and concern you of this matter as soon as we leave this darkened hole but alas it appears as if the Mythic Dawn is calling. Don’t worry about trying to find me Raz, i’ll be the one that finds you.”[/SIZE][SIZE=13.333333333333332px] He yawned lightly while covering his mouth before being concealed once more in a shroud of darkness and having the shadow of his outline being dispersed throughout the cave and vanishing before their very eyes.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=13.333333333333332px](Life unexpectedly took a turn in the wrong direction, i’ll be back quite soon! I’m going to make my character take a brief leave for now and come back later. Also there’s way too many people in this cave and it’s a bit difficult to keep track of what is going on here .)[/SIZE]


@SeaChelle1994


@DarknessSpirit


@ThatDove


@Lorkhan

 

[MimiWanKenobi1994]

The bickering was getting tiresome. And there seemed to be more people showing up by the minute. The longer they all stayed here, the easier it would be for them to be found. And Savina valued living. "If we linger here any longer, we are all going to caught and probably killed. I suggest leaving." She shrugged, doubtful anybody would listen or care. "Or stay. I rather live to see tomorrow. I like living." Maybe it'd be possible to conceal herself enough or to send one of these lot into one of her many shops, disguised of course, to get more gold and supplies. It wasn't the brightness of ideas, but it was all she had at the moment. Something nobody here seemed to have at the moment.

 

[Kazanna]

The pile had grown in size several times. The last patrol had brought him several more bags of food, which, he was all the gladder to gain. Three or four elves at a time wasn't much to the lycan, even without transforming, he was still able to cut most of them down without much effort, and each of them had been carrying spoils of "war," he guessed they would call it, with them as they went on patrol out of the burning city. Ornas held in his right hand, a whetstone, one marked with cuts of thousands of uses, it's edges wrapped in leather, it was of an odd luster, enchanted as it was, in his left, he braced his warblade, as he ran the whetstone down it's length, polishing it's edge as best he could in the darkness, the tone of the blade being sharpened ringing across the lake with each motion. Inwardly, he knew it to be a bad idea, it would only attract more patrols. But, at the same time, he could just add more bodies to the pile. He'd gained quite a few quivers of arrows, and elven steel wasn't bad for piercing dense armor. Better yet, it flew quite true, so he didn't need to try very hard to aim if it came to a ranged battle. He was a skilled marksman, even if he did enjoy being in the thick of it more, and his longbow was strung and resting beside him, it's curved horns held taught by the sinew that propelled any projectile he mounted into it.


Taking in a deep breath, Ornas sighed. It was going to be a long night, and he didn't really like the way the air here smelled, the acrid scent of death lingering on the breeze that issued forth from Riften. The smell of the place used to be that of fish, decay to be sure, but a sweet tone, and the ever present odor of mead. Now, the smell of fire nearly blocked out everything, and as such, it left a scowl on the old Lycan's face. He stood up, sliding his weapon into the sheath on his back, he dropped his whetstone back into his bag, which he had organized with the new set of supplies, and took up his bow, the quiver he kept on his back stuffed with arrows. Moving along the edge of the lake, he abandoned the pile of bodies. His movements took him away from the burning town, but he paused, turning back, he breathed in deeply once more. He'd been smelling burning flesh all night, that and the dead beside him, but one last scenting couldn't hurt.


With a frown, he picked up on the scent of the living, and not those of the smells akin to Thalmor. He released a groan, and inwardly began to ponder what he ought to be doing. He knew he could just leave, keep moving, perhaps head north to Winterhold, but that meant a great many days of being in the open, with no one to vouch for him, and to move away from the burning city, right after it's destruction, spelled suspicion all the while. Turning back towards the new scents, he breathed the air in again through his nose, The same scents resonated, a mixture of beings.


"Grand..." He groaned out before he began making his way towards the smells. "The caves... Why is it always the caves..." he pondered.

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

"That's hardly my intent at all." The Breton chuckled haughtily, looking at her elder sibling as she spoke. Amelie sat cross-legged, smirking in her seat, and watching Annalise scramble to gather the last of her necessities.


"Right," Her tone was blatantly sarcastic, mumbling as she strapped her leather belt around her waist, the scabbard of her sword already attached. "So I'm to believe your actions are entirely honest?"


Amelie's smile widened, "As always." Her sister scoffed. She knew damn well Amelie was being as dangerous as ever.


"Isn't it a little two-faced, even for you?" Annalise glared at her sister, whom merely chuckled.


"Two-faced? No. It's pragmatism." The eldest frowned, slipping Priscilla into her sheath and crossing her arms at Amelie. "You see," Amelie pushed herself up from the seat, as the two made their way to the door, "If these rioters, rebels if you will, are to fail... we gain considerable favour with the Thalmor for our 'oh-so selfless' aid and intervention." She grinned once more, glancing over to Annalise, whom kept her bitter expression, "If they are to succeed, we inspire thousands - hundreds of thousands - to rebel. It would be the beginning of a revolution. Skyrim would only be the start, but when the other provinces realise they can stand up against the Thalmor - and win - then we chance a future free of their grasp. And all at no cost of our own." Amelie had a childish look on her face, awaiting a parent's praise. Instead, she received a scoff and a clip over the ear. "Ow!" She scowled harshly at her sister.


"It's risky. We're better off just staying out of all this."


"We risk far more by not involving ourselves, sis." Annalise scowled at the endearing term, ready to smack Amelie a second time; though the youngest backed away briefly, a knowing grin on her face. "The Thalmor see House Montclair as a threat at the moment. What if one day they decide they wish to depose me just as Elisif? If we prove our 'complacence' with their rule, at least we can work more freely behind their backs, and as I said; if these rebels succeed, then we won't have to work much at all."


Annalise frowned, still curious about one thing, "And how is it you're even aware of the scuffle earlier?" Amelie laughed hysterically, glancing at her sibling briefly. As her laughter calmed down, she sighed humorously.


"Spies, dear."


The two left the room, and quite gladly at that, making their way downstairs. Their 'holiday' estate was in Solitude, and that meant staying at an inn whilst travelling. They'd yet to find a place up to their standards, but that is all that could be expected from a race of uncultured barbarians. Annalise thanked the innkeep as they descended the last step, and moved to leave the inn. Ivarstead was still some distance from Riften, but they could only move at a reasonable pace, and Amelie's 'needs' slowed them down somewhat. Her attire was hardly suited for travel. "So?" Annalise started, glancing over at her sister, "We make for Riften, then what?"


"I'll speak with the Thalmor representative there, see if I can garner anything on the route these rioters took." Annalise scoffed.


"Aren't we supposed to be helping them? Not the other way around."


"Dear, it's my connections that the Thalmor need. Everybody hates them, and that does them no favours."


"Everybody hates you too." She grumbled, though Amelie heard. The younger Breton conjured a small barrier over Annalise's foot, causing the elder to trip and fall. Amelie chuckled amusedly watching her sister brush the dirt and gravel from her clothing. "Yes, laugh all you want, and then when you're all smug and done I'll show you how my boot learned to shut a mouth in a Northpoint alley." Annalise glared, perhaps letting a finger slip out at her sister, before proceeding as before.


"Anyway, I have the little people on my side. Servants, unhappy locals, that sort of thing. Spies'll do that for you." She grinned, still smug about watching Annalise tumble. The pair reached the small pen holding their horses. Annalise briefly checked to see if someone had tried to break into her saddlebag. It was a risk, leaving it out like this, but there was nothing exceptionally valuable in there. Regardless, it seemed the buckle and lock were both intact. The two mounted their steeds, and continued their journey towards Riften. It wouldn't be long before their arrival. "So, we find these 'rebels', and we join them... so to speak. How this all plays out will determine which side we take in the end." Annalise grumbled discontentedly, but decided not to press the matter. 

 

[Xion136]

Zion had been flying for hours. Across the river and down, she put as much distance between Solitude and herself as she could. Zion was tired, so tired...so tired. She didn't have much honestly, just a few weapons....she hugged her scarf to her neck, letting out a soft sound. She wanted to rest, but where was she going to go? Just plains and mountains beneath her as she finally found it. There was a weird formation o....on....No, that was no rock formation. Buildings lay atop a mountain, disrepair but interesting. She angled her wings and headed down, finding herself among some crumbling ruins. She headed for a door, curiosity taking her over. it opened easily....from where it was, you'd have to fly to get here. She looked inside...dark...only dark.


On the wall was a torch. Lighting it with her magic, she began to descend into whatever she had found.

 

[. D O V E]

Eleanore leaned on the nearest rocky wall (the rough surface wasn't a problem for her borrowed iron armor) while her arms remained crossed over her chest. Her sharp glowing eyes which could see through the darkest crooks of the cave (night vision, one of the gifts she recieved from lycanthropy), she studied every moves and remembered every details that her fellow refugee were doing. She especially kept a keen eye on the vampire, only a fool would trust a creature of the night. Then there was the wanted criminal nord, having a high bounty clearly means that she's not to be trusted. Heck, everyone present in this cave shouldn't be trusted.


It was not long when her perceptive hearing caught one..no, a lot of heavy and light footsteps alike. The half-beast let out a low groan of irritation and frustration. She didn't sweep this cave clean just for some strangers to seek refuge in here. "Is this a cave or an inn?" she spat and as if on cue, people with unfamilliar faces entered the cave, their torches lighting up the entrance.


With all these people, Eleanore is questioning whether she should stay or not. There were pros and cons with these high amount of people in the cave. First, if ever an enemy attacks them, whether it be a wild animal or the thalmors, many people will be able to fight (assuming that they're not cowards, of course). On the other hand, the cave is getting cramped and they might attract enemies. Plus she wouldn't be able to rest here since she has to keep an eye to these bunch. 

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Riften... hadn't changed much. The town was just as they had expected - a mess. Filthy, chaotic, and... overrun by Thalmor fascists. They joys of tyranny. Though one might suppose the Stormcloaks were no better; just as racist and just as repressive, only they failed to carry the charming air of contemptuousness that the Altmer interminably managed. "Pleasant." Annalise's nose wrinkled as they passed through the gates, and into the city proper.


"What is?" Amelie questioned rhetorically, "The open sewer running through its centre, or the overbearing air of arrogance?"


Annalise's frown deepened, "Oh, I'm all too used to that Amelie; it's the sewer I'm unaccustomed to." Amelie chuckled, grinning at her sibling.


"Dear sister," She snickered, "I'm not arrogant." Annalise raised an eyebrow in mock perplexity, "I'm justifiably self-assured." The elder Breton scoffed at Amelie's words, shaking her head in dismay. "And regarding the sewer, I believe you have forgotten our time spent in Southpoint. The Blackthorne's were... a close second." Annalise let slip a small smirk, though it quickly faded into her seemingly habitual frown - one might believe it to be some kind of chronic disorder. She certainly agreed though. Lycidas Blackthorne was the only member of that family she didn't want to murder upon meeting, but Ava... by all that is good in the world, she had done everything in her power not to tear her forked tongue from her mouth. Regardless, she got the opportunity eventually, and boy did she take advantage of it.


"Let's just conclude our business," She wasn't content to suffer the smell for much longer, "The hall is just there." She pointed to the large building, partially hidden behind the short row of houses on the North-East side of the town. Amelie raised a hand to her chest.


"I hadn't noticed," She spoke in a bitter sarcastic tone, "Thank you for pointing the way, dear sister." Annalise rolled her eyes at Amelie's antics, but said nothing further on the matter. The two walked the short path towards the hall, getting a few looks from the present Thalmor guard. It seemed whatever citizens had remained in the town were either hiding in their homes, or had been confined to them, but at this time of night it would hardly be surprising if they merely slept. "I do hope their representative is still awake."


"After the riot earlier, undoubtedly." Amelie hummed her agreement, as the two passed the walled entrance to the hall. "Mistveil Keep?" Annalise's expression was one of utter bafflement. 


"Yes..." Amelie spoke hesitantly, looking at the small wood and stone hovel before them. "Quite the intimidating structure." The two ascended the steps to the hall's doors, though were stopped by the Thalmor guards currently on duty - their spears crossed.


"Only those with official business are to enter," One spoke, looking down at the sisters, "The Thalmor are dealing with an incident of unrest at this time."


Amelie laughed at the mer, whom bore an offended, and now quite aggressive expression. "Darling, move out of the way please." Amelie took a few steps forward, but the Altmer raised his spear to point it at her.


"I'll not repeat myself, human." 


She laughed again, "Human? Oh, someone fetch me a fainting couch, please." The mer's expression was one of confusion, but he didn't bother with worrying about her meaning, merely kept his spear pointed at the Breton. "If you don't lower your spear, my dear, I'll be forced to confiscate it. I don't much appreciate being threatened." The Altmer urged the tip of the spear closer to Amelie, showing his only intention was to direct them away from the hall. Amelie just shrugged, touching her finger to the tip of his spear. Nothing much happened for a few seconds, other than the second guard raising his own spear in anticipation, until a small shock pulsed through the elven metal, surprising the first guard. He twitched, and instinctively thrust the spear forward and into the Breton - only she wasn't there. "I'm not a human, darling." The mer whirled around to face her, now standing to his right, and at this point fully considered her a threat.


"Enough already, Amelie." Annalise sighed, having backed away slightly to avoid being skewered, "This is wasting time, and the smell is starting to cling to my armour." The younger Breton sighed playfully, before paralysing both guards, and the two stepped over them, opening the doors into the keep. "Was that necessary? You could have just explained our business."


Amelie waved her hand dismissively, "I don't take orders from my inferiors, Annalise." She merely hummed in response, knowing she wouldn't get through to her sister. "Besides, when they get up and barge in here," She chuckled, "Well, goodness knows how the Thalmor treat imbeciles, but I'm sure it'll be entertaining." The sisters looked across the room, pausing in their tracks at the sight. There in the seat sat some Altmer, likely of little to no importance, but beside her stood a certain individual... "Ambassador!" Amelie called out, garnering a few disapproving looks from the Thalmor in the room, and a surprised glance from Taure. He spoke the last few words to the Altmer female sat in the Jarl's throne, before turning to face the sisters.


"So, even the Blackbriar's have been kicked out it seems." Annalise muttered. "Well, I suppose they have to be thorough... reduce the risk of a co-ordinated uprising." The two crossed the room, as the doors behind the swung open, two rather irate and slightly wobbly guards making their way inside.


"Stop!" One of them called out, holding himself up against the door-frame. "We are... arresting you." One of the guard's grip slipped, as he stumbled forward from the doorway, barely managed to remain on his feet.


"Still with the orders," Amelie directed her words to Annalise mostly, but now she was in ear-shot of Taure and the other Thalmor lady sat in the throne, "They aren't very quick learners are they." Taure looked past the sisters, at the two struggling guards as they slowly regained their composure... and their balance. He sighed defeatedly, rubbing his forehead. Could these two ever stop themselves from sky-rocketing his stress levels?


"That won't be necessary," He spoke up, though baring a disappointed expression - not disappointed in the guards, but rather the sisters - "We will deal with it from here, thank you." The guards seemed even more irritated by being dismissed so easily, especially after having been humiliated so, but hesitantly retreated out of the keep. "So, what brings you two here?" He wasn't being hostile, merely trying to contain his depression at having to not only deal with this situation, but also with them. 


"Opportunity, Taure." Amelie spoke up, "The opportunity to help our dear friends and allies the Thalmor." She smiled obsequiously at the Thalmor sat in the throne, whom looked wholly unimpressed. Amelie's smile dropped, "Everybody hates you lot, and you need eyes. It seems your eagles can't see below the underbrush."


Annalise sighed, "Did you have to?" She mumbled quietly to her sister, scolding her for her choice of words.


"As diplomatic as ever, Lady Montclair." The Thalmor spoke, "We were expecting your arrival however, Ambassador Tavari was helpful enough to enlighten me as to your character." Her look of contempt was as steady as Annalise's frown, as she looked down upon the sisters from her high-set throne. Taure glanced down briefly, before looking at the Bretons.


"Still working for this ragtag group of bandits Taure?" Amelie directed the question straight past the Thalmor Justiciar, whom scoffed at her question.


"Justiciar Vallina," Taure garnered her attention, "Please empty the room, I will speak with the Montclairs privately." She nodded her head, though not too keen on taking orders. Ever since the Ambassador had arrived she'd felt uncomfortable; the Justiciar was entirely used to being in charge, only having been surrounded by the guards under her command. With the Ambassador here her authority was thrown, and that was hardly pleasing. Regardless, she motioned for the guards to leave, all departing to the other rooms of the keep, and made her own way out of the back entrance to the hall; leaving Taure and the Montclairs alone. Amelie raised her brow, still waiting for a response to her question, and awaiting whatever Taure had to say. "You know very well," He began, "How I have considered my position in the Thalmor. If I retire nothing will change, at least while I remain I may yet influence and guide them somewhat to a less... oppressive future.


"You're doing a grand job of that." Annalise mumbled, though Taure brushed off her comment. His lack of a fascist stand-point limited his power in the Thalmor - they weren't keen on his advocacy for peace and isolationism, they liked dominance.


"I'm doing what my limits allow." He descended the steps, moving closer to them so they could speak more quietly.


"So," Amelie spoke up, "What brings you here?"


He raised his brow, thinking the answer obvious. Amelie knew it was the riot that brought him, but didn't see why such a small matter concerned him, "To stop this riot from becoming anything more than that. If I can allay the locals' malcontent, I might save their lives." Amelie 'ahed' in mock revelation, "The more important question is why are you here?" Amelie simply chuckled in response. She knew that Taure was aware of why she was here, and that her previous answer was only a half truth. "Anyway, you came to get information on where the rioters headed?" Annalise hummed in confirmation, "Well, I can't help you there. They fled in the dark, and I wasn't here during the commotion," He glanced behind him briefly, "The guards were utterly incompetent, but I'm half glad they didn't take chase."


"Great," Annalise spoke sarcastically, "I love trekking through the wilderness in search of outlaws."


Taure's expression was grim, "I will be going with you." This they hadn't expected.


"They'll kill you on sight."


The Altmer rolled his eyes, "At first, they might try, but I wouldn't be doing this if I thought I'd die." Indeed, it was risky, given he was dressed in Dominion attire, and his staff clearly was of the Dominion. In his defence though, the staff was crafted in the Second Era, long before the Thalmor ruled over the Isles, or the government. Back when his position was more respectable. 


"Besides, shouldn't you stay here with this... lot?" Amelie questioned, "Gotta keep appearances after all."


"I'm not here on behalf of my nation Amelie, I'm here to do the right thing." The Breton rolled her eyes, but she could hardly say she hadn't anticipated that response. Of course, the right thing involved stopping a potential revolution against a tyrannical order. "No, it involves stopping a group of decent people from killing themselves in an attempt to overthrow a powerful nation.


Amelie scowled, "Stay out of my head Taure. I didn't think I'd need to ward my thoughts from you, of all people."


"I'm merely taking a precaution Amelie, you do give me reason to distrust you." Annalise nodded her head in agreement, much to her sisters dismay. Amelie just pulled an innocent expression, ignoring their looks. "Let's get moving then, the sooner the better."


Amelie's eyes widened, "Wait, we're not going to rest for the night?" She groaned, "I've been travelling for hours, I need sleep." Annalise clipped her over the ear, to which Amelie hissed, rubbing the side of her head. Vampires don't need sleep.

 

[LucidSol]

[SIZE= 14px][COLOR= rgb(0, 128, 128)]Raz'Mras[/COLOR][/SIZE]







"Hmmm? That Mythic. Dawn...." Raz looks at Sixten, but he literally phases into nothingness. Like. Gone. She takes a step to the nearly created void, but stops and then turns to the crowd gathered around her, searching for an answer. Finding none, she sighs, cracking her knuckles. This was a long night, and the faintest eves of morning was creeping across the sky. 


"Breton girl, ( @SeaChelle1994) you speak openly, but have you an idea? Or if not, anyone else is free to speak up," the dark-haired Nord had detected the girl's underlying thoughts, and if she was right then all was well, and then looks to the band of people near the cave mouth for affirmation. If not, then Raz would have to suggest everything herself, and that power, well, lets just say more than one person in the room about now probably disliked her already, aside from the fact she was in fact, covered in crusty blood.


Another bout of blood getting spilled in just a day seemed exhausting, and it'd only add onto her haunting image of a merciless killer. Raz desired no quarrel with these people but all things around here seemed to turn awry in a manner of seconds. 





 @ThatDove @Lorkhan @DarknessSpirit @AlbaGuBrath

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Taure's staff slipped on the rock, causing the Altmer to stumble forward, only just caught by Annalise whom hauled him into an upright posture. He nodded his thanks, which she brushed off nonchalantly. "Just be careful." The Altmer chuckled somewhat.


"I'm not that frail Annalise," He cast his eyes forward, looking at the path ahead, "But thank you." She merely hummed her response, and increased her pace somewhat to lead the trio. Dawn's light was creeping over the mountains by now, which meant the party had been walking for hours, and still no sign of the rioters. In a sense, that was a good sign, it meant the Thalmor would have difficulty with the same task; but it also wasted the group's time. They were slowly making their way up the incline of the mountain, hoping perhaps that the rebels had decided to flee and hide amongst the forests of stone.


"A cave." Amelie called out, pushing ahead of Annalise and bounding across the uneven surface towards the entrance she'd spotted. The Breton glanced back, rushing the pair with a beckoning wave, before turning away from them once more and heading up the hill. Taure just grumbled discontentedly, leaning heavily against his staff as he clambered further up.


"You decided to come." Annalise pointed out, before walking ahead herself. This was his choice, he can live with the consequences. Taure chuckled lightly to himself, shaking his head - these two were just lovely. The Altmer's hand began to glow a faint green, as he picked up his staff, no longer abusing it as a walking stick, and bounded past the elder Breton.


"And I didn't do so without anticipating things." She rolled her eyes, before speeding up herself. Secretly she'd not gone too far ahead in case he had indeed needed her help again, but she'd never let those two know that. The vampire reached Amelie first, whom was just looking into the cave mouth while waiting for the other two to catch up; and Taure soon after joined them. "Seems empty." He muttered, casting a magelight into the still shadowed depths.


"Yes." Amelie mumbled, walking inside. The cave was small, and the only signs of life were the scraps of a dead animal - a deer. Whatever had killed it would be back, whether sooner or later, and so the trio decided to depart with haste. Dealing with the animal would have been easy, but unnecessary; better to avoid it and save its life. "So, continue up?" The other two just shrugged in response, before heading further along the mountain slope.


----


They rushed, immediately darting for the remains of the fire. Taure looked to Annalise expectantly, whom had her hand held a couple inches from the ashes. She frowned, before poking her finger into the ash.


"Slightly warm at the bottom. Four maybe five hours old, if I were to hazard a guess." She looked around at the ground. There were footprints scattered about the campsite, and it was impossible to tell which from which. "There were a lot of people here," She glanced down towards the way they'd come, "Probably a host of refugees or rebels from Riften, that's the direction they came from."


"And the direction they went?" Taure interjected, approaching the Breton, whilst also scouring the ground. Annalise stood, pottering about the area shortly, trying to find tracks leading away from the camp. It was guess work, as there were so many, but it wasn't long before she started heading away from the camp and further south. "That way then." Amelie and Taure rushed over to Annalise, as the trio walked together, following the tracks. "If they can't hide this many tracks, they have likely kept on the move, reduce the risk of being followed by the Thalmor."


"Then we move quickly." Amelie remarked, both her and Annalise speeding ahead at inhuman speed, soon out of sight. Taure sighed, rubbing his temple, as he strained his old eyes. He'd just follow the trail...


----


At last. Amelie sorted her hair out, and brushed down her attire, doing her best to remove the signs of abuse provided by travelling through the wilderness - ready to make her entrance. Annalise just tutted, pushing past, and entered the cave mouth.


"They're like cattle waiting for slaughter." She spoke loud enough to garner some attention. Amelie stepped in front of her sister, looking around at those present, before glancing back to see if Taure had arrived yet. He hadn't, but would undoubtedly be here soon.


"So," She spoke, "Any one of you in charge?"

 

[ANONASAI]

"Here we go." Vaun whispered to himself, lifting is fist to knock on the door. 


The cabin was silent, dark, and perfectly hidden from traveler eyes. A great choice for the Thalmor. He had only known about the cabin because it was written in a note of his parents' murderers. The paid mercenaries were supposed to be meeting the Thalmor in the cabin for payment. Unfortunately for the Thalmor, it's not the mercenaries that are on their cabin door.


Vaun had already thought of a plan. Use the mercenary's armor to disguise himself, go inside the cabin and tell them that the Elsinthar family is dead. Easy.


The door opened inwards, a Thalmor guard of great body structure stood at the doorway to block Vaun's vision of what's inside. "State your purpose, bandit scum." the guard said.


"I'm here to report to Gyrel Camius about the Elsinthar family." Vaun replied blankly.


Gyrel Camius, one of Ancano's trusted supporters. He's the only one that knows about the Elsinthar execution besides Ancano and is to deliver payment for the mercenaries. He's about to die.


The Thalmor guard nodded and stepped aside, revealing a small table with a very dim candle, and a wooden chair--with Gyrel upon it. Vaun proceeded, going as planned. But, the guard blocked him again, his palm laid on Vaun's chest armor. "Helmet off."


Son of a daedra. Vaun glared at him emptily. Time for plan B. As soon as he removed his helmet, the Thalmor guard widened his eyes--not because of Vaun's face, but because a dagger had already sunk deep into his throat as he dropped dead on the ground with his Elven blood bursting across the floor. Gyrel was quick to react, instantly standing up with magicka fire in both hands and screaming, "It's Vaun! Get him!"


Guards began to spring up from cabin rooms, half rushing towards Vaun and the rest protecting Gyrel. Sadly, the guards were no use for Gyrel. Vaun had already grabbed hold of combustion inside the Elves' brains even before he entered the room and in one quick snap of his fingers, the combustion sparked and exploded inside the guards' heads--pieces of their brain, scalp, and flesh spraying at the wooden interior. The brain fire ignited in a second and immediately went out in the next half second because it drained too much of his magicka--leaving him exhausted. Nonetheless, it was only Gyrel and Vaun left alive inside the room now. Vaun's dark smile completely impacted the silent room, no words were shared. He simply walked up to the traumatized Gyrel, then performed a melee-paralysis combo for 5 long times to multiply the paralysis length to 25 seconds--his middle and index fingers striking like snakes at Gyrel's limbs, joints, and pulses. 


After the long melee flurry, he dragged the paralyzed elf across the floor and dropped him at the center of the room. Vaun left the structure, removed and dropped his mercenary armor inside the cabin, and ignited the cabin with what's left of his magicka. He then went back to a set of bushes near the cabin, to take the three corpses of firecasters he had killed earlier. Dropping and scattering the corpses in believable positions in front of the cabin, he laid himself to rest on a tree stump meters away from the fire consuming the cabin. The scene now looks like firecasters ambushing the Thalmor hideout, with both sides unluckily dead on the ground. No trace of Vaun at all.

@EveryoneInTheCave

(This cabin is very near to the cave and I doubt your characters didn't hear the quick boom or see the huge fire. Come and meet my friendly char LOL JK)  

 

[GreenEyedStranger]

Inside the dim cave, a figure skulked in the shadows. Only two great beady eyes, barely illuminated could be seen. Not too preoccupied about being noticed, he had remained silent, though eventually he crept out of the shadows.


A slim red tinted argonian walked out, wearing black robes with the imprint of a fanged skull


"Sorry for dropping in so suddenly..." He spoke in a hesitant gnawing voice, almost stuttering.


He hadn't been paying much attention to their discussion as it seemed dreadfully boring, besides he had been more preoccupied with a sugared nirn root. He liked to treat himself once in a while. As he was still chewing, he leaned on the rocky surface of the cave, though pulled back quickly at the discomfort.


"I overheard a bit... Some of you are vampires yes? I know you're trying to kill the thalmor... or something... Whatever it is, I will gladfully help!"

 

[Kazanna]

Five meters from the cave's mouth, Ornas paused and pulled his bow back, an arrow fit into it. He aimed at the cave entrance and approached it slowly, keeping himself to the edge of whatever cover he could gain in the sparse woodlands of the Rift. With a grunt, he kept the bow half drawn. The nearest patrol he could scent was at least half a league away and moving away, so he wasn't concerned about Thalmor at the moment. His nose keyed towards the cave again, he couldn't make out the mix of races within, though he did notice another werewolf. That made a brow raise internally as he approached. He had kept the wind in his face the whole time, but a sudden shift in it caused it to suddenly be at his back. He internally fumed and released a sigh. The Rift was known for it's random weather changes, it was half of why he tended to stay near it. So he lowered his bow, and replace the arrow in his quiver, knowing that even if he had the bow taught, anyone within the cave that could scent him, would in moments, and to approach with a weapon drawn was the worst mistake he could make if they were skilled or in numbers.


Ornas leaned against a tall tree that had enough low hanging foliage to just mask his face, but not so much as to block his view of the cave's mouth. He watched for movement, crossing his arms over his chest, his bow returning to his kit. He would wait for whomever was within to come out, not in any rush himself, he also knew better then to approach a large group of unrelated persons, and as far as he could tell none of them were directly related to anything besides Riften, the smells coming from within were far too diverse.


Reaching back, he drew his hood up, the night had begun to cool rapidly, and the typical fog that came from the lake was slowly beginning to roll across the land. He smiled lightly, It seems the gods didn't have it out for him that evening after all.


@Everyoneinthecave, mostly anyone who's a good tracker, Argonian, Khajit, Werewolf, would all scent him.

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Amelie sighed, "I suppose not then." She glanced at the newcomer, "And just how exactly will you help?" She smirked, looking him up and down, before turning to face the main bulk of the small crowd. "Yes, none of you like the Thalmor," She scoffed, "That's hardly enough to win a war against them." Amelie took a couple steps further in, before feeling a hand on her shoulder.


"There's another mutt outside." Annalise mumbled.


Amelie nodded, "I know, I haven't ignored the one in here either." She turned away from her sister, raising her voice again, "If none of you recognise me, you may call me by my middle name - Henrietta. And this is my sister, whom you may refer to as Beatricia."


The expression of the elder Breton was telling, "Anyone who does, I'll pull your fucking tongue out." She glared at Amelie, "I am Annalise Montclair, and you will refer to me as only that." Amelie sighed, rolling her eyes.


"Anyway," She looked around, "Now listen to-"


"And what makes you so special?" She was interrupted by what seemed to be one of the refugees, "Huh? Why should we listen to some prissy noble? You're clearly no warrior, lady; what right do you have to demand our attention?" Amelie chuckled, looking at the Nord. Quite likely a former Stormcloak, or at least a supporter of their cause. She tilted her head up, narrowing her eyes and looking past her nose at him, just to make a point, before relaxing her expression and smiling warmly.


"Don't interrupt." The man froze, eyes wide, and limbs stiff. "It's simple. You need me, my dear." He would have scoffed, could he move, "Your little riot is just that, and only that. Now I," She placed a modest hand against her chest, "Have contacts, influence and... considerable power. A few well placed rumours, a little propaganda, and your riot becomes a movement, a rebellion," Her grin widened, "A revolution." She tapped her foot, glancing at the ground briefly, "Alone, you will fail." Before looking directly in that refugee's eyes, "With me, the whole of Skyrim will rise up to stand at your side."


-----------


Taure heaved a deep breath, pushing his way up to the cave mouth. "At least you have a lookout," He muttered to the Nord, but noticed his expression, "Or not." It was clear the Ambassador was donned in Thalmor clothing, but passed by the stranger regardless, as he made his way into the cave. Hopefully the man was reasonable, and wouldn't try to put an axe in his back. He could see Amelie chatting up the locals as usual, and Annalise had already turned to watch the Altmer. "There's a big fire out there." He muttered disinterestedly, likely only audible to those with exceptional hearing.


"Taure," Amelie grinned, "Took your time." He just grunted, making his way beside the Breton, and into the light.


"He's a fucking Thalmor." One of the soldiers called, going to draw his sword and stepping forwards. Annalise's blade was pressed tight against his throat before his sword was fully unsheathed. A drop of blood trickled down as he gulped, scratching himself slightly.


The younger Breton chuckled again, "Darling, this is Ambassador Taure Tavari. Unless you want the Thalmor to be the least of your worries, I'd refrain from laying a finger on him." Taure nodded to her in thanks, but mostly ignored the altercation. It was less than he'd expected.


"I'm not here to stop any of you," He spoke aloud, "But I will try to discourage you." Amelie rolled her eyes; Annalise half hoped he would succeed, "Look around. You cannot begin to think you have the manpower, nor the capabilities to defeat the Thalmor. The only outcome to this war would be your deaths - and the survivors of your rebellion will suffer the backlash in your stead. The Thalmor are tyrannical already, but they will only become stricter, crueller, more ruthless than they already are, if you continue." He sighed, a mostly neutral expression on his face, but there was a hint of desperation that the truly observant might notice, "You risk encouraging a far worse future than the fate you already suffer. The time will come for a rebellion, but it is not now; not when the Thalmor are at their strongest, and you at your weakest." He pointed to the entrance of the cave, and to the outlying lands, "Skyrim has just begun recovering from a war, a war it lost; and you are intent on starting another. Who do you think will come to your aid? To support your cause for more bloodshed. The Stormcloaks are all but crushed, the Empire is leashed, and Skyrim has no armies, no soldiers, and no hope of defeating the Thalmor."


Taure rubbed his temple, "You are only killing yourselves by following this path."


Amelie remained grinning throughout, "Well said. Let's just give up." Taure rolled his eyes, "This is why I am here Taure, because with us they can alter their future."


The Ambassador scowled, "Don't encourage them Amelie, you know as well as I how this ends."


"Then help us," She suggested, "With your aid, the sharing of information, we can strike where it really hurts." 


Taure's expression dimmed, "I cannot do that Amelie, I cannot take a side."


"You already are. Inaction is as effective as action, Ambassador. You encourage the tyranny of the Thalmor by ignoring this opportunity, especially when you so clearly believe the outcome will be so devastating."


"If I encourage it, I would not have come to discourage this lot from incurring such a future." He waved a hand dismissively, "But I have said my piece, do with it what you will." The Altmer turned to leave, but Amelie came rushing up beside him to whisper in his ear.


"You can't seriously have only come to say just that." Taure gave her a look.


"No. I came to evaluate them." He then raised his voice slightly so the others could hear him, but his focus remained on Amelie, as though it was only her he was speaking to, "They're all going to die; it doesn't take a genius to know that. Every one of them is skittish, this entire lot are a shambles. They don't trust each other, they don't know how to work together; they're just as likely each others' enemies as they are the Thalmor's." He took a breath, "And if they miraculously succeed, then what?" His eyes narrowed, "Recall my words. A common enemy is not enough to bring people together, so too is a common goal required. With the Thalmor defeated, what then? Each here fights for his future, and for what is best; but what is best differs between every one of us. Each envisions a different future for themselves. When the war is over, it will only serve to pit them against each other in a fight for their own desires."


He gazed around the cave for a moment, "To even hope for survival, you'll need to place your life in the hands of those around you. Without trust you will be nothing. Give up now, flee to Solstheim or Morrowind; and fight when you're ready." He leaned against his staff exhaustedly, looking at Amelie. She just shook her head.


"I will appeal to the Empire-"


"The Emperor has been assassinated, the Mede line ended. The Empire stands leaderless. They will not rally under someone else's banner; especially not that of the province they just helped conquer." Taure interjected, arguing before Amelie could finish.


"Not the Crown. I will appeal to the Noble houses. House Montclair still holds favour with several of those in Cyrodiil. House Imbreccius, House Krately, House Reldorian and House... Fairbridge." She said the last name with slightly regret, "They will rally to my call. The Kjaldsten's of Markath also, and they have been under rule of the Thalmor for some time; they have gained a small amount of trust for their 'complacency'." Taure sighed, she was not helping, "I will send word to the Dubois' and the Menincrofts, who can provide anonymous support from High Rock; and spread word of the rebellion. Within the week, word of the movement will have reached half of Tamriel. House Ateldil and Ravenwatch will be glad to offer what aid they can. Valenwood is most displeased by the reign of the Thalmor, and spreading word from Velyn Harbour will help."


Amelie crossed her arms, "Taure, I did not come here without thought or consideration. I have the resources to encourage this rebellion, and I will do so without any mention of myself or my involvement; nor will I leave a trail. Trust that I do not encourage an open war between the provinces... I'm merely watching Skyrim rebel from my warm throne in Northpoint."

 

[ANONASAI]

Vaun grinned. Interesting. The group was so random and chaotic that in no doubt would a single conflict break it. There were all sorts.. Khajit, Argonians, Bretons like he himself, and even the werewolves and vampires. All in one messy cluster. He's killed vampires before, but never werewolves--they were too rare. The thought of it just made Vaun chuckle. I could get them to kill each other. If he can manage to get close enough and sense enough combustion at the center of the group, explosion can easily be brought up and they'd be blaming anybody they can see.

But no, it was too dangerous. Too much factors of detection: the werewolf could sniff him, there could be another man like him just observing from the trees, or there could simply be a mage amongst them that'll feel his presence. Instead, Vaun let himself slip further away from the cave and calmly watched both the strange group and the last of the fires that's consuming the cabin.

"Mother, Father... I'll kill Ancano soon. Just you wait. Nobody will oppose the Elsinthar."