Fandom The Second Rebellion (Skyrim)

[SAOFanboy]

(Sorry I haven't been posting, I had stuff to do)


Jaeger walked into the Riften gates, satisfied by the thought of drinking some cold Black Briar mead. "Riften, such a satisfying keep. Skooma addicts, thieves, beggars. So much promise."  Jaeger thought, as he made his ten fire salt delivery to Balimund. He then walked to the black briar meadry, grabbed some mead, ang got a bed at the Bee and Bard.

 

[MorgathosTheRussian]

"I arrived here just a day ago, and have yet to see him. Though I doubt he would be foolish enough to show his face in public. The Imperials and their Thalmor masters have eyes everywhere. Which is why I suggest you find us a safer place to discuss the matter. I fear that some of the High Folk have ears in this very inn." Ologor whispers. "Go to the old smithy quarters, and tell the owner, a large Nord, "The sun rises on the Withered Keep." He'll let you stay there, I'll follow close behind. Make sure you aren't followed." @AlbaGuBrath

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

Saorat nodded slowly at the new information, wondering what to make of it. Was he saying that there was probably little reason to worry about him being in danger, or warning her that either of them could be captured at any moment? She prayed that it wasn't the latter; she'd hate to get a bounty in Windhelm for jailbreaking. Would she even be able to break anyone out now? There was that one incident in Riften years ago, but everyone knew what their security was like. Windhelm would be much trickier indeed, though of course, she didn't want to mess with that anyway. Light fingers and quick feet had better uses than sneaking and lockpicking.


The mention of spies alarmed her and immediately set her mind rolling back to when she entered the city earlier today and all she'd said or done since then, checking for any dangerously unguarded words. "Here?" she whispered, instinctively turning her back toward the corner and darting her eyes around the faces in the room "Surely not... Not here, of all places. They wouldn't dare..." Still, though, she now felt very uneasy and watched every move she saw with high alert. Those two men sitting in the opposite corner were unfamiliar to her; could they be on the same business as her, but under a different banner? That woman in the pink dress... Had she been watching her? Suddenly her mind flashed to the suspicious Argonian she had met earlier. Could he...? She stopped the thought in its tracks and scolded herself sternly for it.


No... You can't do this; stop this nonsense right now. You will not start making baseless accusations against these people, your people...


All the same, the man's suggestion was a good one. It was wise to take precautions, which Saorat often endeavoured to do, but didn't always succeed. She'd been told it would one day be the death of her. She stood and made a polite little bow, adopting an exaggerated rasp in her voice and the air of confident merchant. "Yes sir, you will be most pleased with your purchase, most pleased... It will be ready for you by morning just outside the gates. Perhaps something else will catch your eye there, hmm?" Without waiting for any of the inn's inhabitants to notice the change, she quickly slipped out the door and into the streets. The air was colder than it had been earlier in the evening and Saorat drew her cloak closer to her for more than just anonymity. Thankfully, she still remembered her way around and found the smithy without much difficulty. Briefly, she wondered if Hermir still helped with the forge here. The two women had become unlikely friends during her stay in the city, as both shared their enthusiasm and delight to be able to do their small part for their king. Had she heard about the remaining resistance and the news of Ulfric's survival? She would certainly be very pleased to hear it, if she hadn't already.


The door was locked, so Saorat knocked and huddled close for some protection from the wind. She was answered by a gruff voice indoors. "We're closed, can't you see that? Come back tomorrow!" She shivered as another blast of wind blew through the alley and she called out "I've come to deliver a message for you, sir! May I speak with you?" There were annoyed grumbles from inside and the sound of a weapon being drawn, but then came the sound of heavy footsteps drawing nearer, the noise of a bolt sliding against the wall, and the creak of the door as it opened. Oengul was standing there with a candle in one hand and a sword in the other, glaring at her in the gloom. "What do you want, stranger? What are you doing here?" She pushed the hood back from her head and took a step into the candle-light so the smith could see her face. A look of surprise crossed his face as he recognized her features, but he said nothing. "I've brought a message for you. 'The sun rises on the Withered Keep.' I'm told that you will understand..." The smith nodded slowly and rubbed his hand against a grizzled chin. "Oh, aye, does it now? Well, that's news indeed... Come, you'll need a place to rest after such a long journey. There's a spare room here where you'll be safe..." Saorat thanked him and followed him in.


Once she was settled in the room, she sat down to wait for her contact. Now that she thought of it, she realized that she still wasn't entirely certain who he was. Sure, he spoke of Ulfric and the Stormcloaks, but anyone could say that. What if his warning about spies had actually been about himself, what if he was trying to make her suspect her own friends to distract from the true enemy? What if he was a Thalmor, and he sent her away into a trap where nobody would see her disappear into their dark dungeons to be tortured and killed?! Panic began to pound in her heart and she immediately began searching for a way to escape. But then, she thought of old War-Anvil and Hermir. Even if this stranger was a traitor, surely they wouldn't be. If they trusted him, perhaps she could as well. At the very least, they wouldn't stand idly by while she was taken prisoner, would they? The thought reassured her and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was just part of living on the run, spending too long being a fugitive. It did things to the mind, conjured up terrifying scenarios and dangerous possibilities. The problem was these weren't just fanciful delusions; sometimes, they were all too real. Objectively, there was nothing right now to suggest to her that she was in any sort of danger, but her mind still said otherwise. She knew she couldn't give in to fear, she had to stay strong, but neither would she be unprepared. After adjusting her arrows within easy reach, Saorat slipped the bow off her shoulder and placed one of them on the string. Her body tense and senses alert, she watched the door like a cat watching a mouse, though she had the uneasy feeling that she might be the prey in this case...


(@MorgathosTheRussian By the way, Saor can be a touch paranoid...)

 

[MorgathosTheRussian]

Ologor left the Inn soon after his comrade left, picking up his greatsword and leaving through a back door. He took a different path towards the smithy quarters, a well rehearsed route from during his Stormcloak days. With a knock, the smith opened the door, and then Ologor said, "The Hammer of the Wolf swings against the Sun." With a grunt, the smith opened the door and said, "She's over there." With a slight smile and a nod, he entered the same room as Sarot. "Well, now that we're in a safe place, let me properly introduce myself. I am Ologor Firebor, captain of the Stormcloaks. I led the assault that freed you, and fought with you in many a battle. I've come here to find our leader, and rebuild our resistance to defeat the Thalmor. If you have any questions about me or the events following the city's fall, ask away." @AlbaGuBrath

 

[0stinato]

Once he was back in the city, Kumiko didn't want to go back to writing his letter. He was a little annoyed now. If V had only told him where the rune was Kumiko could be happy. But apparently he wanted to give the Khajiit a challenge. As such, Kumiko didn't feel like writing to Farkas. Didn't feel like finishing and signing off the letter with his usual inky thumb-print. So, to distract himself, he trotted over to the sign in front of Candlehearth Hall.


His mood was brightened over the next fifteen minutes as he began playing with it. With his gauntlets off and by his side, he raked his claws down the wood and batted at the sign occasionally, making it swing. From there, he'd headbutt it or wind his way between the two posts, following his recalcitrant tail as it chased him around. Back, forth, to, fro the sign swung. Kumiko lay under it, forgetting he was supposed to be a professional in this city. His façade was forgotten, melted in his useless mind. He didn't realise how the light was changing. He didn't know how much time had passed.


Then he remembered something and sat up abruptly, causing the sign to hit him in the nose. Instead of reacting, he snarled at it, expecting it to move out of his way. He was the Thane after all! What a nerve this sign had - invading his privacy in this way. How cruel of it. So, humiliatingly, he had to duck under it and re-equip his gauntlets. Then he went inside the Hall, to continue the thing he'd just thought of.


He went straight to the bar and talked over the heads of a few punters - "Elda, has anyone from the Palace of Kings been through here? Leave a message? For Riften?"


He didn't want to say too much. Didn't really want to reveal his Thaneship in front of the punters. It wasn't something he felt particularly comfortable doing in Windhelm. They way some people looked at Khajiits... they'd surely be ticked off at a Khajiit Thane. Or probably. Or maybe Kumiko had just picked up some paranoia on his way to finding the rune.


Elda frowned before tilting her head, "Who are you to ask?"


Ah, gods be damned. He had no choice.


"Literally thane of Riften," he said firmly.


Her eyes widened slightly as she reached beneath the bar, "Yes... yes... okay. His steward came round, yes... this must be for you then. I haven't read it, of course. She made it clear it was official business..."


Kumiko took the letter from her. It was good paper and hard folded. He nodded at her before strolling off, trying to hold his muzzle high in case anyone took exception to him. But, before he stole back into his room, he knocked on the door V had been in earlier. He had business with the Argonian, and limited time to find it. Where was that bloody rune?


@Dragonix975

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

It seemed like an eternity before Saorat heard the sound of voices again in the hall, though it had really only been a few minutes. Then, as agonizing as the wait had been - dreading, fearing, wondering - it seemed to end far too soon when it did. The two men spoke their passwords through the closed door and down the hallway, but her keen ears could still pick up most of what they were saying. One statement, in particular, stood out to her, "The Hammer of the Wolf swings against the Sun." What did that mean? And where was the Withered Keep? Was it where the rest of the rebellion was meeting? Curiosity battled with fear and eventually overcame it. Saorat resolved to stay where she was and see what she could learn.


After a moment, the door opened up and the stranger filled the doorway. Instinctively, Saorat stood from her chair and placed a hand on the bowstring, but made no move to draw it back. The stranger introduced himself as Ologor Firebor, a name she remembered even if she had evidently forgotten his face. At his introduction, she turned to return her bow to its place, ducking her head away for a moment to hide her embarrassment. Now that the light was clear and neither had to hide their identities, she did recognize him, but he did look different. Older, more worn, hunted. Of course, that was to be expected. She probably looked the same way.


When she turned back, she stood straight and saluted, dipping her head slightly. "It is good to see you, sir. When the news reached us from Windhelm, we were told there were very few that escaped, that all would be taken prisoner or killed. We thought you were dead, that only a few scattered Stormcloaks still lived in all Skyrim..." The words started to choke in her throat, but she managed to speak past them. Even if there had been despair before, now there was a glimmer of hope.


Saorat had many questions, as always, but she paused to select the most important ones before blurting them all out. Ruadh had often teased her about acting like a small child in a new place, asking questions about everything, chasing after anything that came nearby, investigating every nook and cranny she found. She had also seen the annoyance in the eyes of the other Nords when she peppered them with incessant, supposedly important questions about critical points of their mission, like what other things might be in that cavern they were investigating, or why didn't they do things another way, or if they had that farmer's permission before diving into a ditch in his field. If she annoyed the other soldiers or her commanders too much, they might send her away and leave her alone, a thought that terrified her more than death itself. She would have to choose her questions carefully...


"Yes, I did have a few... What news do you have of the rebellion, and of Ulfric? We've heard precious little, mostly just rumors and gossip. Are there really still Stormcloaks alive? I was beginning to fear that they had all been hunted down... What can we do for them? Are they at this... Withered Keep?"


She winced as the words tumbled out, afraid that she had already said too much. An ear twitched and her paws began to fidget against her palms, which she promptly hid behind her back. Taking another breath, she focused her eyes on the wall behind Ologor and spoke again in a hopefully more controlled voice. "I suppose the most important question is... What are my orders?"


@MorgathosTheRussian

 

[Sir Monsieur]

(I guess I'll just continue) 


Jekkel decided he should probably go ahead and sell his goods before the marketplaces got too crowded or worse. On his way out of the  Candlehearth Hall, he noticed a familiar looking khajiit standing at the bar, But Jekkel could not place a finger on where he has seen him. He swiftly shrugged it off and left the hall. The Imperial made a quick run to the Windhelm stables to check on Frost and Flame, of course, they were fine. Jekkel strolled back into the city with a heavy chest in his hands. Of course, he was abruptly stopped by the Windhelm guard. "Whats in the box Imperial," The guard said in his raspy voice. "Definitely not Skooma, Sir" For some odd reason Jekkel always got a kick from toying around with the guards. He wasn't really carrying skooma into the city because that is suicide. He did however, keep all of his skooma in a hidden box under his caravan. It wasn't for his use, he sells most of it to the Khajiit caravans and they pay a pretty hefty price for the vile substance. Getting hooked on that stuff is not a fun experience or so he has been told. The guard unsheathed his sword "Open the box imperial" The young caravanner rolled his eyes and back peddled to the guard. He opened his chest and all that was inside was some armor and weapons "It was a joke.... Probably" and at that, he slammed the lid shut and walked into the city. "Damn Imperial"


Jekkel drifted towards the gray quarters and went into  Aval Atheron shop. He kicked the snow off his shoes at the door and then dumped the chest on the counter. "What will you give me for these?" Aval carefuly evaluated the items set before him

• (1) Banded Iron Armor
  
• (1) Iron Sheild
  
• (1) Steel sword
  
• (1) Flawless amethest  
  

"I'll give you 250 septims for all of this" This would simply not do for the Imperial "I'm sure we can work out a better deal." After several minutes of a heated depabate they came up with a resolve . "Pleasure doing buisness with you." He walked out of there with an extra 350 septims in his pocket. He was always good at negotiating, perhaps he developed the skill when he was on the road with his (Adopted) family or maybe he always possesed the skill. The caravaner found himself back in Candlehearth Hall and with everystep brought the delightful clink of septims. After this succsesful victory Jekkel was going to relax next to the warm fire of the hearth. Before his a asent up stars Jekkel bought a bottle of Black-Briar Mead and some cooked beef. Five minutes later Jekkel was found asleep in his chair.

 

[MorgathosTheRussian]

"The rebellion was utterly crushed after Ulfric disappeared, but elements did survive, such as the band you were with. Many soldiers faded into the background, forgetting their oaths to the Stormcloaks and settling down. I heard that there were some hiding south of Winterhold, or in the forests west of Riften. I met some heading towards Whiterun a few weeks ago, but I don't know what their ultimate destination is. As for Ulfric, I know not. I've just heard the same rumors as you, that he had escaped. I think he is simply waiting somewhere in Skyrim, gathering strength before he strikes back. And the Withered Keep was a place of legend my kin searched, said to be a mighty castle perched on top of a mountain in the far north. We later found out it was merely a ruined fort on an island, but the legend became a source of inspiration for our comrades, somehow." Ologor said. He reached into a small pouch hanging on his side, getting on a map with numerous circles marking locations, some crossed out. "The Imperials and Thalmor have establish many positions from which they have maintained a tight hold on my precious homeland. If we want to help our comrades, we need to destroy them. One such position in at the old momument to the Dunmer refuges east of here." He got out a quill and a sealed bottle of ink, and crossed out the one he just spoke of. "I hope that all these attacks will draw out a captain of the Thalmor or perhaps some Stormcloak comrades. To secure either would be a great leap forward in bringing back the rebellion. Now, as for your orders. I am not your commanding officer, nor was I it. You may follow me if you want, or go elsewhere. But regardless, I intend to strike the Imperials where it hurts." he said. "Now, I have some questions for you. What happened to your comrades, what brings you here, and how good are you in a fight?" @AlbaGuBrath

 

[0stinato]

V wasn't coming to see him. Maybe he was asleep. Or, even better, maybe he wasn't in there at all? Not like Kumiko had checked. He was fast becoming ticked off at this monotonous little quest, and wondered if he might find V somewhere wandering around the city. It was still worth a try and he still wasn't feeling like writing. Farkas' letter would have to wait, as would the letter he'd be penning to Jarl Law-Giver soon. She could wait one more day. Kumiko had death to get involved with.


He'd try upstairs first. Asking about was the best way to find someone in this city. Besides, he always liked the look of the bard. And he wasn't technically dating Farkas... just writing cheerful letters to him every now and then. Neither of them had been forward enough to make a move, but Kumiko wondered if Farkas hadn't done that because he was too stupid to know how to. He seemed to want to, comparing the sound of Kumiko's coughs to the sound of rain. The way he wrote seemed like he was into it, but Kumiko honestly couldn't tell. Maybe he'd ask Vilkas if he went back to Whiterun. Ask him what Farkas' deal was. Attached, unattached? Kumi hoped the latter. Or otherwise he'd probably have to eat Farkas' spouse.


Kumiko couldn't help a laugh as he went up the stairs. He began to pick up his feet a little more, tail swaying happily as he thought of the taste of flesh once again. Still, he had to focus on his task. He set his eyes into a stiff frown and strolled across to the bard. On the way, he caught a whiff of something familiar, and he turned around.


Ah. There was a Khajiit up here. Kumiko was almost never mistaken - the smell of rough fur was one never forgotten. It clung to him and it clung to most other Khajiit. From M'aiq the Liar to the sneak thieves who were doing nothing for his species but to make them seem worse in the eyes of Nords. But even so... the other Khajiit was all the way over there. And the smell was here. Kumi, distracted by this little puzzle, began to twitch his head as he sniffed the air, trying to detect the source of the mystery Khajiit. As far as he could tell, no other tails were sweeping the dust from the floor but his and the Khajiit-over-there's.


"Ohh," Kumiko dropped to his hands and knees, having honed in on a suspect. Didn't look Khajiit, that was for sure, slumbering away in a chair. But maybe he was. Maybe he was a Khajiit inside. Sleeping on chairs next to warm fires was Kumiko's speciality. He liked sometimes to twist himself upside down so his legs would go numb and he'd have something to think about when he was dropping off (dropping off to sleep and also dropping off the chair). Kumiko gave a few more inhales, deciding that, yes, this hairless man was the culprit.


Smiling, his mind almost completely off his little quest, he reached out a finger and tapped the man on the nose. When he didn't stir, he did it again, harder. C'mon. Can't be that tired. The guy hadn't even finished his wine.


@Sir Jake (Mentioned: @AlbaGuBrath @Dragonix975)

 

[Dragonix975]

Veryon saw more. He saw a caravan that stretched on forever. He saw the man at the helm. The man raised a sword. Then Veryon saw a warrior, cutting across the sky with his blade. Then he saw the hairless khajit, being captured here in Windhelm.


He had to warn the other. He reached out, across spacetime, hoping that his message of : Bridge. The other is captured would reach the cat's brain.

 

[Sir Monsieur]

Jekkel stirred when something grazed his nose. It was not a hand of a human, nor the scaly hand of an argonian. It was the familiar feeling of fur, the hand of a Khajiit. The young caravanner opened his eyes, as he suspected it was a Khajiit. He stared at him for a moment only to realize it was the Khajiit from the bar. "Hello, there friend how my I be of assistance?" Jekkel always got a good feeling when he talked to his kind. Jekkel was not a Khajiit but he has always associated himself as one. Being raised by one contributed a great ordeal. As he stared into the eyes of the Kajiit he finally realized who he was. This Khajiit was, in particular, is the thane of Riften. The young Imperials stomach erched. It felt as if his stomach had just swan dived off the throat of the world. His mind quickly put everything together, It all fit together easily like a jigsaw puzzle. Jekkel came to the conclusion that he had messed up on one of his runs from Riften. In one of his latest deals, he had put a crate of skooma in a barrel behind the Bee and the Barb. The thane must have saw him dumping it in the barrel!, And tracked him all the way to Windhelm. The Imperials face began to whitten and with no fur to hide behind. Jekkel did not want to go to jail. He hated it so much, they were always filthy and they give you rotten scraps for food. "By the nine I got to get out of here, He can probably smell the skooma on me." Jekkel gave himself a mental slap. "Calm DOWN! just play it cool perhaps this is just a coincidence." The caravanner gave an awkward smile, as a bead of sweat dribbled down his face. In other cases, he would have be fine but this case had caught him off guard he had no time to prepare. "TALOS save me!"


@0stinato            

 

[0stinato]

"Hello," Kumiko grinned. The young man's discomfort was making his mind do somersaults. Someone finally recognised him as a worthy adversary. Not that he planned to be an adversary to this poor guy but Kumiko was allowed to revel in the moment for a little while, he assumed.


"Been sleepin' a bit too close to the fire, have you?" he said, tilting his head. "You're sweating. I get the same. And alcohol makes me break out something awful... When I get drunk it's not the booze you can smell on me but the sweat... not particularly nice to admit to a complete stranger but... I trust you won't say anything," he smiled again. Unfortunately, with his cattish muzzle, every movement of his face could look malicious in the right light. It'd got him into a particularly bad bar fight with an obnoxious orc who kept telling Kumiko over and over to stop looking at him like that. Kumiko hadn't been doing anything. He'd only looked over, past the orc, because he'd heard a dog bark and wanted to check the canine wasn't throwing itself at him. From there, the conflict had escalated until Kumiko was being pushed to the floor and having his face spat in.


Wasn't a nice night. But it would have ended right there if Kumiko's vulgar little self hadn't said, "Thanks, fountainhead (referring to the orc's updo-ponytail), I needed a bath."


"Anyway," Kumiko said, banishing the memory, "I could smell Khajiit over here and didn't see any. So I found out it was coming from you. Which is weird. Considering you're not a Khajiit at all. Or, at least, I don't think you are. If you are, show your tail and I'll move on. If not, I want to ask you a few things."


Clearly, the young man wasn't sweating because of the fire. His face had been clear and dry before Kumiko had prodded him awake. It was only once he'd looked Kumiko up and down that he'd started looking particularly and enjoyably nervous. But why? Maybe he'd seen Kumi do something bad. Maybe he'd seen Kumi bite that Dunmer, though Kumiko was certain no one else was around. Ah well. If he had seen that, it wouldn't take much to scare the man into silence a little further. For now though, he stood, vampiric fangs on display in an all-teeth smile.


@Sir Jake

 

[Sir Monsieur]

The Imperial thought over his words carefully. "Yea it is pretty hot in here," He said as he wiped away the sweat. As a matter of fact, it was no were close to hot, the room had a slight draft. He took a sip of his mead. The feline across from him asked why he smelled like Khajiit. "I am no Khajiit as you can probably tell. You see, I was actually raised by Khajiit and I also deal with them a lot in my travels" Jekkel's worry began to climax and the more he worried the more he drank. "Here is a thought how about I buy you a drink and we can talk more?" He asked as he got up from his chair. It was weird the caravaner noticed the Khajiits teeth, They were abnormally sharp. "By the way I'm Jekkel" He stated as he streached out his hand.  


(Sorry for the short post I have to go somewhere)


@0stinato

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

Saorat peered at the map with interest, trying to make sense of the markings. She still didn't understand most of the words, but from her lessons with letters from Fira and memories of other maps, she managed to identify a few major locations. She pointed to one of them with a circle around it, then to one crossed out. "Are these your targets, and the ones already dealt with?"


One of the locations he crossed out was in the far east, so Saorat assumed that it must be the refugee's monument he spoke of. Strange that it should be an Imperial or Thalmor stronghold, though... Her travels through Cyrodill convinced her that many of its inhabitants were no less prejudiced than their neighbors to the north, though they were admittedly a bit less vocal about it, and she didn't believe the Altmer cared too much about the Dunmer either. Sadly, they seemed to be ignored or hated by just about everyone outside Morrowind... But if that was the case, then why choose such a minor landmark as a fortress? It didn't seem to have much defensive value; it was old and abandoned, and was home to nothing more than a few beasts. Tracing the road west, she noticed a couple farms, but couldn't read their names. Then, just past the river at the end of the road, she saw it... Windhelm.


"That's just east of here! If... if they get a force stationed there... They could assemble an army in Morrowind and march straight on the city! But Morrowind wouldn't allow that, would they?"


She hoped that the other provinces would remain neutral, but she feared that if they did get involved, Skyrim would not find a friend in her eastern neighbor...


Ologor's attitude toward giving orders surprised her, as she still considered the former hierarchy to be in place. The chain of command had been difficult for her to get used to when she first joined the Stormcloak army, but she eventually found a sort of comfort in it. Knowing exactly where she and others stood, what she was expected to do and how she should act, who was in charge and how to respond to them; this provided a sense of stability and security that Saorat felt safe in, and felt lost and disoriented when it was shattered. "All the same, sir..." she replied "I have little training or experience and am in no place to determine any sort of action. By virtue of seniority, your orders are the best I have, at least until Drenmare returns." She wondered briefly what would come of that encounter. Ologor appeared significantly older, which should gain him some respect, but Drenmare was a General. She expected Drenmare to take command once he came back, but wondered if he would be relieved at the chance to pass her and all her trouble off to someone else instead. That wasn't a pleasant thought...


Saorat shrugged helplessly at Ologor's final question. "I'm afraid I haven't much else to say about that, sir. I haven't seen any other Stormcloaks since I left Whiterun and have heard only rumors. It was rumor that brought us here, and wild hope. I heard mention of Ulfric's survival and the gathering of his men while I was in Riften and I brought the news to Drenmare. He was reluctant at first, but finally he came. When I got here, nobody would say a word about him except for the bard, who suggested that he may have found another place to regain his strength because Windhelm was no longer safe for him. She didn't say where, though..."


At the final question, however, she broke into a grin and retrieved her bow. "I'm a fair shot, if I do say so! I managed to save enough to buy this and have it improved considerably. Isn't it beautiful? And I have these..." She pulled out a few steel arrows and tested their tips. "They're not as fancy as the elven or dwarven ones, but they're better than what I had before." A look of pride crossed her face as she held one out for inspection. "I made them!"


@MorgathosTheRussian


(Just a note about that tactical statement at the beginning... That's not necessarily what's going on, that's just what she thinks might happen. She gets wild ideas in her head from time to time...


Also, @0stinato, speaking of maps... Did you want me to put up that map you made on the first post? Sorry if you meant for me to do that, I clean forgot...)

 

[0stinato]

Kumiko's eyebrows rose at the offering of a drink. At the moment, all he really wanted was just a little hit of skooma, but he wasn't about to admit that to the caravaner, even if he was probably used to being around it. He could have a little sip of skooma later, he wasn't gasping for it. He happily accepted the offer and, as they went down the stairs to the bar, the man introduced himself as Jekkel.


An odd name, for sure, but Kumiko didn't mind. J came just before K, so he liked the man. He decided to return the introductions, "I'm Kumiko, you can call me Kumi if you want. Or 'your grace', I don't mind that either," he gave a laugh. "You spent your life around Khajiit eh. Probably been around more than I have. No wonder you smell like it. No offence."


Although he was a Khajiit, even he would be slightly insulted if someone said he smelled like cat. Even if it's just an accurate observation. You smell like cat was never really a happy thing to hear, especially in Skyrim. The stigma was strong. But Kumiko liked Jekkel. He seemed useful. And, if he was in touch with a caravan, he'd not have the same thoughts as the Nords would. Kumi wasn't sure if Jekkel was a Nord - he was never that good at telling apart Imperials from Nords from Bretons - but he suspected Jekkel wasn't. However, he wasn't going to ask what Jekkel was. Probably considered himself more Khajiit than Kumiko did. Kumiko, to Kumiko, was just a man. Just a man with fur and a tail. And some right sexy ears.


Jekkel didn't have those ears, that tail, or the fur. But if his 'family' was Khajiit, it was more than Kumiko had had.


"Oh, uh, I don't mind what I drink," Kumi said. "I'm in the mood for mead or ale though. C'mon, we'll talk about some stuff. You might be able to help me, too. No one else can in this gods-forsaken little town... you know, you try to find one thing, one damned thing, and it's just... nowhere. Can't get good help these days," Kumi became aware he was just moaning about his problems quite loudly to Jekkel as they stood before the bar. "Are you good help?" he asked his new acquaintance. "If not, are you, at least, bored? Because then you can help me."


@Sir Jake


(@Dragonix975 is Veryon communing telepathically with Kumi or is that not happening anymore? Because if it is, I'll write it into my next post.)

 

[Dragonix975]

(No)

 

[Sir Monsieur]

(Welp I wrote everything and it just got deleted and I have to write it again, yeaaaa. Also sorry for the delay I have been at all district band tryouts)


The marry two walked down the stairs, their destination the bar. The Khajiit revealed his name to be Kumiko. From what Jekkel could tell Kumiko's intentions were ultimately fair. Perhaps the caravaner miss judged the situation, It did not seem like the Thane wanted to hurt him in any way, he is probably just a fair Khajiit looking for some fun who knows. The imperial chuckled when Kumiko said he smelled like a cat. "None taken my friend." They finally arrived at the bar. "Two Black-Briar meads," He said as he planted 50 septums on the bar. "If I'm not careful I'm going to dry out my reserves of gold," he thought to himself. The barkeep swiftly pocketed the money and brought out two bottles of the coldest Black-Briar meads. It would not be difficult to keep this stuff cool, all you have to do is leave them outside for a few minutes. Jekkel uncorked his mead and sipped it slowly. Kumiko was going on a rant about his troubles. It appeared he was searching for something, something no one else had the answer to. It then dawned the question if the caravanner was good help. Was Jekkel good help?. He did have some background in the arcane arts, and he considered himself to have a pretty strong intellect. He preferred to fight with his head unlike those cold-blooded Nords and their axes. "Yes, I would say I'm adequate help, What exactly do you need help with. And the subject of bordem approaches me quite often."      


@0stinato

 

[MorgathosTheRussian]

"Aye, it is, good job. And that's exactly I want to try to stop the buildup before they become too big. The threat to the city is too great to ignore. if Ulfric does come back... By Talos, they'll march on this city faster than I could drink a bottle of ale." Ologor said. He was a bit surprised by Saorat's decision to follow him. It could be a suicidal attack. But when she got out the bow and arrow, his mood brightened. An opportunity to speak to a fellow smith, even an amateur, was a good time for Ologor. He gingerly took the arrow, inspecting every part of it, before saying, "I have about 45 years of experience behind me, forging everything from small daggers to massive doors. Yet this arrow is one that could beat any well trained smith. And that bow is quite good as well. I'd say that if you put a decent amount of time and training into smithing, you might rival old Graymane up in Skyforge." @AlbaGuBrath

 

[0stinato]

"Black-Briar mead? You're spoiling me," Kumiko said. But, in reality, he loved being spoiled. Be it with a good neck-scratching by a person he was interested in or even just a little smidgen of verbal praise, Kumiko lapped it all up. He was never exactly spoiled as a cub - much of those days were shrouded in white mists of Forgotten by this point - but these days he liked people to keep his ego in check for him. And Jekkel had just improved his mood vastly at this point.


"You're helpful, eh?" Kumi said as they made themselves comfortable. Jekkel was already necking his, but, perhaps because Kumi's tongue wanted to be tasting something with a bit more kick, but maybe also due to the fact he'd had a fill of mead before, he didn't touch his yet. Besides, he knew the taste of Black-Briar mead like he knew the taste of his own morning breath. Maven made sure Riften was swimming in it at all times, and practically had a monopoly on alcohol. No Honningbrew mead came into the city apart from in the pockets of adventurers.


Kumiko pondered letting Jekkel know all the secrets V had told him. He wasn't sure what information was sensitive. Probably the part about the death, that was pretty sensitive. Couldn't have any old bastard knowing Kumiko was privy to a murder plot. After all, Kumi had a Thaneship to live up to. But then again... it was only Windhelm. Just because his muzzle might be plastered on the sides of houses or on the city walls wanted for the extinction of a Redguard's life, it wouldn't mean anything in the Rift. It just might give people an even more bitter taste about Riften than it already had.


Even your Thanes are corrupt! they'd cry. One was involved in a plot to kill an innocent, upstanding citizen, right in the city walls! Maybe right in the walls. Kumi didn't know where the rune was.


"That's where you come in," he said seriously to Jekkel. Only when the Imperial looked at him a little dumbfounded did Kumiko realise he hadn't actually revealed anything about the plot at all. He backtracked, apologising with what he thought was a suave grin, and tried to tell the Imperial enough to gauge his interest, but not too much as to reveal to him, and the rest of the bar, what exactly was going to go down. He lowered his voice, laid himself a little wider on the bar - to give the impression he didn't mind who heard the conversation - and began.


"Well... an acquaintance of mine had an item stolen from him, and he would very much like it back. Very much," he raised his eyebrows at Jekkel. "He happened to get me involved, I'm not sure why... perhaps because of my stature in Skyrim, perhaps he just knows I wouldn't think twice about touching a corpse..." he paused again to punctuate the important information without outright saying it. "I'm not sure. But the problem is, I need to be in a certain place to do my job for this acquaintance, and I've tried to discover this place but I really can't find it. I can't find my friend to ask him either. That's where you come in.


"Maybe it's just me, but I trust Khajiit to see things most don't. Night vision, a trained eye for rare items to sell... that kind of deal. And, while you're no Khajiit, you said you were with the caravans. So I believe you might see something I might have missed. See, I tend to get pretty..." he tutted sheepishly, "uh, distracted. Like. You know. Oh it's snowing! And I've instantly forgotten what I'm s'posed to be doing. So maybe a little help from someone I think might have a good talent in this case wouldn't go amiss?"
 


He finally opened his mead. Neither his tongue nor stomach called for it, but he swallowed a good amount anyway, if just to keep the cold off.


@Sir Jake (Mentioned: @Dragonix975)

 

[Sir Monsieur]

Jekkel watched Kumiko's mouth closely. He was particular interested in what was going on. His eyes widen when he mentioned something about a corpse. This was probably none of Jekkel's business to get into but it did sound like it offered some adventure and besides getting into other people's business was his job. The imperial placed his drink on the table, "What exactly do you need, I'm going to need a little more information than that." He said curiously. He pondered what could be going on, The Dark Brother Hood, ancient nordic ruins, perhaps a good bit of betrail. Whatever it was Jekkel needed to know. "If you don't want to talk about it here we can go somewhere else?" He was now determined to know what was going on.


@0stinato    

 

[MightBeASithLord]

Cervantes nodded and swished the ale in its bottle. "I know the target is bosmer," he said, "but I recall Veryon saying that our target was last seen a thalmor. That's why he called on me." Cervantes giggled with pride and gestured to himself. "I don't mean to brag, but killing thalmor is sorta my thing." He grinned the same way a young boy does when he learns a new trick and wants to show it off. Cervantes wasn't interested in stealing all that much, but he had to know what kind of potion made of blue mountain flower could catch Veryon's interest. "So, anyway," He continued, "What've you learned about the Bosmer? Also..." Cervantes raised an eyebrow, "Cerce?"


Was it a Khajiit nickname? Cervantes was very familiar with nicknames. "The Magical Wuuthrad" was given to him by a Nord in Whiterun. Maybe a companion? Other names included but wasn't limited to: Mad scientist, Dovah-bean, Stop-watch, Blade summoner, Dragon's Breath, Spellsword The Sellsword, How-Did-You-Get-In-There, Don't-Touch-That, Cervantes-No, Cervantes-Get-Out-Of-There, Cervante-You-Can't-Just-Chew-On-An-Ice-Spear-You-Casted, Cervantes-Don't-Shoot-The-Trolls, Cervantes-Why-Did-You-Wake-Up-The-Dragon, Cervantes-Stop-Shooting-Paralysis-Spells-At-The-Students-And-Calling-It-Stone-Tag, and the list could go on and on. But those sounded more like titles that he had earned through performing many acts of valor, studies, (and assault if you ask the right people). Cerce, however? This just came out of nowhere. He had done nothing to earn it. Oh well, unimportant. There are more important things to worry about. Like thievery and assault.

 

[explosiveKitten]

Maroluna nodded her head in a less then enthusiastic manner, only half listening to whatever Cervantes was saying. She only nodded lightly to what he was saying, "Yes I am aware he was last seen with the Thalmor, I know quite a bit about the guy now. Don't ask me how I know, because I wont tell you."


She yawned and pulled her hood over her ears, shadowing her face except for her muzzle, which stuck out the front of her hood. "And why Cerce?" She blinked. I just couldn't remember your whole name. "... Again, don't ask." She huffed and tested out how the hood was sitting on her head. She shook her head around, nodded, tried to flick it off with a twitch of her head. Luckily it stayed right in place. 


"Anyway," she looked down at her claws and picked at them a little, "I'm going off to do my thing, so I dunno what you're doing, but I mean if you insist on accompanying me, I'll be taking an unconventional route to the Gray Quarter. You just take the streets, annnnd try not to blow my cover. Kay? Bye." She waved with her fingers before turning very suddenly and running back into her room, running across the way and diving right out of the open window. Not a moment later, she appeared on the opposite wall, scaling up to the roof of the opposite building, her tail waving about as she did, till she disappeared and ran across the rooftops to the Gray Quarter.


@MightBeASithLord @Dragonix975

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

Saorat was secretly very pleased at the words of praise, but was a bit flustered at the comparison to Gray-mane. "Oh no, sir, I surely wouldn't say that. I don't think that would be very likely... It was mostly Hermir anyway, she showed me what to do. She said it would be a useful skill to learn, and I agree, though I don't know if ever I'd be able to stay in one place long enough." Despite her protests, however, Saorat couldn't help but feel a small glow of pride at the approval of her work. Maybe one day she could learn to smith or some other craft. Settle down somewhere and live in peace... That would have to come later, though. For now, she had a cause to fight for, so that she and others would have that opportunity to live quietly. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the situation at hand.


"I don't suppose there are any others left around here who would be willing to draw sword openly, would there?" She sighed and shook her head sadly. "I don't suppose can really blame them, not after the disappearances. They risk enough just by looking the other way when people come through... But if speed and stealth were important for success during the war, they will be crucial for survival now." She didn't dare voice her fear that even then they might not be enough. It was a leap of faith for men to join the Stormcloak army when it was safe for them to walk freely, when it was almost even thought that they could win. Now, with only a few scattered soldiers and them on the run, most citizens didn't dare draw attention to themselves or, worse still, their families for what many considered a hopeless endeavour. But, hopeless or not, they still offered their friendship and support, if not their arms.


She looked back at the map and scratched her chin slowly. "They would probably be watching the road pretty closely, but do you think we could hide in these hills to the south? There may be enough foliage there to keep out of sight long enough to deal a bit of damage, then disappear again before they got organized. It might not clear them out entirely, but it might at least make them think twice before staging an attack, show them that Skyrim isn't going to just sit quietly as they march through..." A note of anger crept into her voice as she hissed the last line, but she managed to bring it back under control before speaking again. "I could probably get in and out of there without being seen as long as it stays dark. Learn the lay of the land, see where the men are stationed, maybe even catch a bit of conversation. Should I go?"


@MorgathosTheRussian


(Sorry, 'tis a bit short...)

 

[0stinato]

Following Jekkel's suggestion, Kumiko picked up his drink - of which he'd so far drunk a third of. He stood, expressing his desire to walk around the city with Jekkel, excusing the odd request with an excuse that it would tire him out before he turned in for the night. It would probably be best to have the interested party follow him to a less public area, where he could then tell Jekkel what was going on.


As they left, Kumiko knew his plan of walking might come in handy in a different way. Without saying anything about this to Jekkel, he decided to keep an eye out for male Redguards. So far, he'd seen a whopping total of nil, but hopefully one would grace his vision sooner or later.


"Let's walk beyond the city walls," he said lazily, "less likely guards will care. I'll tell you what I know, because you seem interested. I trust you're not going to stab me in the back or tell anyone about this. After all, I know your name too."


He didn't want to waste his breath on a threat, only smiled and walked with Jekkel to the city gates. He'd only been walking with his new friend for a moment or two, and already he was feeling the urge to drink the rest of his mead. He didn't know walking would do that. So, as they neared the gates, he essentially finished the remaining two thirds in one go, before crouching down beside a fire pit and balancing the bottle carefully on its opening, on the fire pit's edge. It was a little thing he liked to do. He just wasn't entirely sure why he did it. Was it an attractive shape to him, all glowing and upside-down on the edge of the small fire pit? Or was it just a creative way of not having to discard the bottle in any proper location? Just balance it on its edge, call it art. Yeah.


"I suppose you're here with a caravan," Kumiko said. "I know there's one that stops outside Windhelm... that's the camp I know less-well. The one between Riften and Dawnstar I know most because, well, Riften's my turf. I often go out, sell a few things that I... shouldn't have... and chat with Kharjo. I suppose you might think me hanging around other Khajiits reminds me of home but, in truth, I don't know where my home was. No idea if I came from Elsweyr or what. I'm more of a jaguar, less of a lion. I never really had a pack. Or, to be more apt, a caravan."


Kumi wasn't sure why he was sharing all this with Jekkel, it just felt a little right. Maybe it was because part of him felt their lives had switched places. A non-Khajiit falling into a living in a caravan, and a Khajiit wandering the moors all by his lonesome. Surely it should be reversed? The pale-skinned Jekkel should be the one making a camp at midnight and shooting a few passing deer to feed himself, and Kumiko should be the one bundled up in a tent surrounded by others whose tails also wiggled in the night. But, from what Kumi knew, Jekkel seemed relatively happy in his caravanning life, and Kumiko wasn't about to question it. After all, he was happy in his, too.


When they'd maintained decent distance from the guards at the gate, Kumiko spoke again to Jekkel, "Here's the thing. Argonian, name I've... forgotten... kind of roped me into a murder plot. Now, I'm not involved with the murdering, moreso the motive. The Redguard in question's called... Something Silian. I know, I'm not good with names. But anyway, Silian stole? I think? Something from the Argonian, and he wants it back, of course. So the Argonian set down a fire rune somewhere to kill Silian, and I, being the sneaky bastard that I am, got roped into retrieving Silian's journal so the Argonian can track down his item. And that all sounds sort of straightforward right? Only, I'm dumb and can't find the rune, but something tells me you can. After all, you're in with caravanning Khajiit, and they don't maintain a stigma for no reason. I think that you'll be able to help me find this gods-forsaken rune, what do you say? Hell, I'll even give you the majority of the pay if you want. Seems like you might need it more than I do..."


Which was probably true. Kumiko, Thane, had his own house and sex-murder dungeon alchemy station, was able to obtain certain 'favours' from the Thieves Guild, was able to run for the Thieves Guild to keep away the boredom, and was currently doing pretty well romance-wise. He didn't exactly need the 500 gold. And, usually, even though Kumi never needed gold, he'd often just ignore all moral code and obtain it somehow (such as selling skooma to a little girl instead of buying the flowers she was selling. He later justified this to himself by telling himself she'd get more money for the skooma than the flowers), but something about Jekkel made Kumiko think a little differently. Windhelm, and most of Skyrim, despite being the beautiful landscape that it was, was filled with greedy, selfish bastards who could probably survive on money more than food. Why couldn't Kumiko just waylay his ignorance of morality and do something good for a change?


@Sir Jake (Mentioned: @Dragonix975)

 

[MorgathosTheRussian]

With a nod, Ologor said, "If we showed the people of Windhelm that the Imperials can be defeated, they might be willing to take up arms again. Even if we can't, we can at least get basic supplies from some of them. Food, potions, maybe even weapons and armor, if we're easy. I have some old friends among the guard that still support the Stormcloaks, even though they can't resist the enemy with swords. I could try to get some weapons and intel from them." He returns the arrow to his comrade, and said, "Go now, report back here once you are done. If I'm not here an hour of two after you get back, wait for a few hours and then leave. I don't want the dream being extinguish because Thalmor found out you were here. Good luck, Talos guide you." After he finished, he got up with his greatsword and left the house, making for the Catacombs, where his friends were stationed. @AlbaGuBrath


((After Saorat leaves.))


Though many years had passed, the soldiers still recognized Ologor. "By Ysmir, I thought you were-" one of them began. "Shut. Up. Do you want to get killed?" Ologor hissed. "You're gonna help me, I saved your ass outside Karthwasten during the Retreat. Now, let's go to that old place of oddities. There is some stuff I want to discuss." A few minutes later, they reached the abandoned house of oddities, where the mad murderer of Windhelm once gave tours. "Now, you're going to bring me 200 steel arrows, two Imperial bows, and half a dozen steel swords. In addition, I want 10 potions of healing, 5 potions of curing diseases, 2 weeks of rations for 2 people, and a map of all Imperial positions and movements. Don't, and I'll tell everyone of how big of cowards you two are. Bring it to the Market, sell it to that dark elf, and then leave. Give the intel to the smith."  After a few silent moments, the guards grumbled something about them not being cowards, and scurried off to fetch the gear. After they left, Ologor went to the area near the White Phial, and waited.


Soon, one of the guards walked up to the Dark Elf he spoke of, sold it to him for a low price, and walked off, stealing a quick glance at Ologor. "Bloody Imperials..." he says. He waits a few minutes, then gets up and buys the bundle for a high price, around 780 gold. He goes over to the smithy quarters, gets the intel, and waits for his comrade to arrive back, reading the intel.