Fandom The Elder Scrolls: Immortals

[Karcen]

Lorelv Shook the mans' hand, though though solid armor and mail below she doubted the man felt the shake very much, but such would prove his armors worth.

" I am Lolrelv Kanaeth and i am heading to alinor the city not the island" She said clarifying it was a specific city instead of the named and renamed islands. " I have important business to attend to, that has gone undone for far to long" She continued.

She would not explain what that was but surely it sounded urgent enough that this knight would understand that she would not go into details. The details of what she needed as such woudl likely make the king the lesser of two evils in the eyes of normal people. She would cause the wheels below the world to be exposed and Sets daughter to be born and the grand design to be complete . still first she needed to go to the sight of a siege that lasted less than an hour.

" It is to bad that your mount can not fly Donan and even sadder that airships do not dot the sky as their cousins do the seas]" She said saddened by how backwards this era was compared to her when hers was in this eras past.

 

[Farseer of Ulthwe]

Sauriil's mount rode swiftly, faster than any mortal horse could. He reached Cyrodiil within three and a half days. Stopping on the border between Black Marsh and Cyrodiil, Sauriil examined the area upon which he stood. He was atop a massive plateau. The front quarter or so of it was covered in greenery, but moving back, the foliage ended abruptly, right before the fringe of the marshes of Argonia. Each tree was shriveled and black, the burnt quag gave off the pungent smell of the charred muddy, wet ground. He looked to the north and saw the lush green landscapes of Cyrodiil. Sauriil sighed; the sight was a relief after wading through the deathly terrain of the destroyed Black Marsh. He could see the White-Gold Tower in the distance. He looked around for a way down, seeing that a path to the ground was carved into the side of the plateau. He kicked his mount and rode for a small village quite a distance from the Imperial City. He needed to stay away from larger settlements; Mithron would have noticed his absence by now.

Half a day's ride later . . .
​

Sauriil reached the small settlement, called Pell's Gate, a settlement dating back to the days of the Hero of Kvatch. He dared not enter the town; opting, instead, to set up a camp a small distance from the town. Mayhaps he would spend the night there, under the cover of darkness.

 

[uwupolice]

[ SEDRISA HLORAN ]

Location; The Bee and Barb, Riften | HP; 100 | Tags; None atm

...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...

A small figure sat among the impaired and half-witted men, slouched on the bar stools of the nicer of the inns here. Unlike the inebriates, she was alert, poised and back as straight as a board. A thick, black hood had concealed most of her head, a shadow only cast on her peculiar features.
Many would turn heads or aloofly stare at her if she ever removed the hood. What was so peculiar about the female dark elf though? Well, her skin was much different compared to her kind, not to many majority of her attributes were also. Her skin is purplish-grey, a shock of blue atop of her head, eyes a piercing emerald.
Some would utter rumors of hybrids, or that she was a summoning ritual gone wrong. Some would associate her with the Daedric princes and some would go as far to even say she was a creature of Oblivion.
Ludicrous and far from the truth, there was only one assumption that was close to being right. 'Something went wrong.' Something definitely went wrong, and it was when she was merely a shiny-eyed teenager who was eager to try new things an learn any and everything.

From a young age she had always been interested in magic, growing up in a family of necromancers. The strange little Dunmer would even go as far as volunteering herself to help with her parents rituals and summonings. One day, she had consumed a weird and unheard of concoction that was supposed to make her be in Oblivion for a short amount of time. Instead, it had altered her appearance entirely and stunted her growth. Dunmers usually tall, she instead grew to be 5'3. Although she was peculiar looking, her parents probably loved her even more for that, making ridiculous conclusions that she would become important in all of Tamriel and be known. As a child, she would dream of the idea, but as she got older, she realized how silly that sounded. It was as if she was going to sprout dragon wings and a head. Other younglings thought otherwise though, occasionally poking fun of her or were too scared to even approach her. Growing older and developing, men began to gauchely hit on her, and she soon learned to hit back..

A man beside her stirred in his seat and lifted his head like it was stone, eyes drooping and red. The Dunmer took no notice to the rising drunk, simply sipping out of a tankard filled with bittersweet ale. "Oi, yer one o' them darkies? Th' ugly elfs?" He slurred, a idiotic grin contorted across his face. Sedrisa said nothing, gulping down more of her ale. "'Ay! I said somethin' miss!" The Nord squalled, yanking down her hood. The now revealed female set her tankard down, gently, a small clink on the wood. Though in a drunken stupor, he knew she was different. His beady eyes bulged at her and he began to laugh, an ugly laugh that contained a very animalistic snort. She stiffened, the others slowly pulling their heads up to see what all the commotion was.

Something glimmered in the Nords eyes. "Ya aint too bad lookin' fer a dar' elf.." He said lowly, voice like gravel. The dirty-haired man then ceased her, trying to grope her. The other men began to rise, some blubbering him to stop while others encouraged. One 'helpful' soul ran off to grab a guard, bursting into the night air and leaving them in the stuffy pub. The bartender didn't seem to care at all, munching on a piece of stale bread.

Trying to press her to a wall, she pressed a free hand to his chest, it beginning to glow red. The man shrieked out and jumped back, a hole burned into his shirt. He began to glower at her and lunged forward to snatch her and she unsheathed one of her daggers, leaving shallow cuts on his hands and arms. The now enraged man lifted his bloody fist to pummel her, his other hand going to a sword on his hip.
Hand merely inches from her face, she jutted her hand out, freezing him on spot.

"Stop her!"
Sedrisa lowered her head and bit her lip, slowly turning. "Shouldn' 'ave done that miss. You're goin to the bars now." Two guards had ceased her, escorting her out of the inn, man still frozen with vexation.

 

[Dozer]

Baragon
​

Taking just over a month, Baragon had trekked south from the The Reach in the northern province of Skyrim, all the way down to Cyrodiil. Following his instincts, he was compelled to travel onward, not truly knowing for what or who he was looking. The hunting potential in these lands seemed to be even more abysmal than in the cold north. There seemed to be barely enough game to hunt for himself, let alone three other hungry mouths to feed. Feeling the pull of his master's will, he continued onward, eventually making his way to a shrine dedicated to Hircine. It was just a little ways south east of Lake Rumare, and looked to be quite over grown. The shrine had seen better days indeed. Baragon took some time to clear away the overgrowth, making it more presentable. He had not the proper offerings to ask for an audience, but he prayed his lord would make an exception.

What is it my hound? "My lord, I know not who or what I am supposed to be looking for. Please, I ask for some guidance." A deep, gravely chuckle came from the Daedra's throat. Even though his face was obstructed by the skull of a mighty stag (or maybe that was his face?), Baragon imagined a look of mirth crossing the deity's face. Patience, hound. You'll know what you seek when you smell it. In fact, I can smell it from here. Looking up to the shrine in confusion, the hunter waited for more instruction, but his lord did not give out anymore wisdom.

The sun was setting quickly, and Baragon wished to find a more suitable location to set up camp. Having made his way to a village the locals called Pell's Gate, he was getting ready to roll out his bed roll when his sense of smell was triggered by something the likes of which he'd never encountered before. The wolves smelled it as well. Was this what Hircine spoke about? Swiftly crossing to the other side of the village under the cover of darkness, the hunter tracked his prey to a small camp just outside of the settlement. The scent was emanating off of the elderly Altmer that had made the camp. Baragon couldn't even describe the scent other than to say that it was not of this world. Feeling confident that the elf had not seen him, he and the wolves studied their target, not entirely sure what to make of him.

 

[Darth Gangsta]

Two Months Later . . .
Present Day​

Makor was making his way to Skyrim, after one his close friends had died due to a disease that had spread throughout a nearby town. It had been a couple of months since Malacath "chose" Makor to be his champion, and since that had happened, Orsinium has been thriving.
Makor was now at Riften, near the border of Cryodiil. Makor's horse grunted as it walked through the alleyways. The orc thundered down the road. He raced past the old and sketchy abbey. Makor eyed the city in caution, ready to draw his weapon at any time. He knew of the Thieves' Guild's heavy influence in Riften.
As Makor got off of his horse because he finally neared his companion's funeral, a bandit in a hood eyed Makor with a grim look on his face. He sprung out of the shadows with a knife in his hands. His stance was pathetic and he held his blade tightly and forced himself not to wipe the beads of sweat that had obviously formed because he was frightened. "You, orc! Give me everything you have!" he says.
Makor laughs, not touching any of his weapons. "Run along before you get hurt, Nord."
The bandit growls in anger and swings his at Makor. The orc grabs the Nord's wrist and twists it with all of his strength. The bandit wails in pain, but this doesn't stop him. The Nord swiftly grabbed his dagger and plunged it into Makor's hip. Makor roared in agony, instantly taking out the dagger and stabbing the bandit in the side of head, purely out of spite. The bandit drops to the floor, a stupefied expression on his face. A woman carrying her washed clothes back home witnesses Makor stabbing the bandit in the head.
"Murder!" She yells out as she drops her things and starts to run.
"No! It's not what you thi-" Guards come running before they sheathe their swords.
"You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defense?" One of the guards say.
"He tried to kill me!" Makor replies.
"You're going to rot in the dungeon, orc."
Makor's weapons and armor are taken away, providing him with the dirty, brown trousers they give everyone. Tattoos as well as scars littered Makor's body.
The guards take Makor and throw him in a cell. He can tell that there's someone near him, probably someone else who got thrown into the dungeon for something that they didn't do. "What'd you do?"
uwupolice

 

[Farseer of Ulthwe]

Sauriil set up a fur mat on ground, on which he would sit, and sleep should he have to spend too long. He started a fire with a few sparks emitting from his fingertips. He used the fire to boil some water for tea, and cook a rabbit he killed earlier. While he waited, he decided to mediate to enhance in attunement with the magicka within him. Closing his eyes, he felt a vision creep into his mind. A wolf. Grey, though not old. It reeked of the stench of a long hunt. Following it, three dark hounds. Obedient, yet violent and savage should their master call upon such deeds. The vision faded, following a distant howl.

He felt the presence of that he foresaw. He didn't look around, or act aroused. He continued to meditate, knowing that such an aura may as well be coming from another Immortal. He waited. For what, he did not know.

 

[Zoltan]

Donan Rafeus

He accepted the petite Dunmer's handshake, though he couldn't quite feel it... Maybe she had very tiny hands. Or his armor was just too thick. Or maybe both? "Alinor! Well, it just so happens I'm heading to the south. I could perhaps help you find a port... Although I am headed to Blackwod-- a rather treacherous place. If there were to be any port uninfested there, it would have to be 'cleaned' up from ruffians first." A confused look crossed Donan's face. He stepped into Lolrelv, mullingly. I- Well-- Pardon me, but you don't look quite the fighting type... I'll do my absolute best in the name of the Nine to protect you when we're in Blackwood, but you still may get more than a little maimed. Have you... handled a sword before?"

Karcen

 

[Saint_John446]

Taneya Kayrean​

As much as he enjoyed walking between provinces, Taneya did not want to walk the whole way toward Cyrodiil. Not that it mattered, he hadn't come across any carriage willing to carry him out there anyway.
"Damn that Adorin guy or whoever," Taneya grumbled, "why did he have to make every carriage really far North not want to go out there. Is he actually a terrible emperor? Or is this some kind of terrifying reputation being more than the guy himself?" Taneya, truthfully, didn't know what he was talking about anymore, but it sometimes made him feel better to rant and rave at nothing. He looked up from the road he was staring at, and was graced with a welcome sight- a carriage was ahead! With a grin, he bolted ahead and caught up to the head of the carriage, hoping that this was the one that saved him hours of walking.
"Hello, sir!" Taneya called over the clacking of the wheels and clopping of hooves. "Are you going to Cyrodiil by any chance, or willing to take me there?"
"I am," the carriage driver replied, "I'm willing to allow you to ride along provided you don't disturb my other passenger." The driver jerked his thumb at the carriage, and Taneya noticed a Bosmer man riding already. Taneya eagerly paid the driver and hopped into the carriage, sitting across from the other passenger.
"So," he said, "what has you heading out to Cyrodiil, if you don't mind me asking?"
Ameridian Stonebear

 

[Veyd Sahvoz]

Neekaza Lazarus
​

Days past as Neekaza trekked through Cyrodil, no map, no idea of his location, only the shadows to guide him along his way. He had no real sense of direction yet somehow he was able to navigate his way through the land. He could still feel a chill in the air even though he was several days away from Bruma, the cold still lingering as he journeyed to where he presumed was South, surely it had to be if he had remembered correctly, arriving in Cheydinhal. This was a place he had not been to, out of all of the different places around Tamriel he had gone this was not one. Neekaza had a tendency to go only where he was needed, thus the reason he was even here to begin with, and if Sithis had showed him the way this far he would not question it. He would go to wherever it was that this place where the others -Immortals as Sithis had referred to them as- would gather. Though at the rate he was going he'd be a week getting there on foot. If only he had a steed or some form of spell that could allow him to teleport, that would have been helpful but unfortunately for him he had neither and so he was forced to go on foot. Turning down a dark alleyway he walked down it, darkness masking any bugs or rodents that run around. As he walked through the darkness he could feel it course through him as if he were one with it, shadows and the like gathering around his feet as he walked. I see, I have an affinity to darkness and shadow. Perhaps this might prove useful. Thought Neekaza, stopping for a moment as he closed his eyes and focused on the area and shadow around him, coming attuned to his surroundings as he pictured the end of the alleyway. Within a few moments he felt...different at the very least, lighter even as if he were the wind incarnate. He reopened his eyes and instead of the alleyway he had once been in he was already outside of the west gate. "This will take some time getting used to..." Muttered the Argonian as he readjusted his cloak and continued his journey down the path to Pele's Gate as Sithis revealed to him.

Neekaza was by all means tired and weary, he only stopped to sleep and eat twice since he had left the Jerall Mountains, that had been 5 days ago. Sooner or later he would need to stop at a settlement to rest and eat, but until he absolutely needed to do so he refused to stop. Fortunately for him, he could hear the faint chatter of others ahead, travelers he had presumed. He stuck to the shadows, waiting to see just who they were -A Dunmer lady, obviously a mage from her attire, and what he thought had been a Knight of the Nine?- As he hid out of sight behind the trees he felt a sharp momentary pain in his temples as, once again, his head was filled with the voice of Sithis. "The two you see before you, they are not who you believe them to be. Travel with them, they share the same fate as you." And with that it was gone. Neekaza waited for a precise moment to reveal himself, having caught a piece of their conversation they had been having. He went back onto the path, pretending as though he was heading up from the path behind them. As he approached the two he looked towards the Knight clad in armor, speaking to him first. "It is not wise to doubt one's skill which you do not know." He pointed out, glancing over to the Dunmer. "Skepticism may be your undoing if you are thrown off just by one's attire. Nontheless, I mean no offense to either of you."

Karcen Zoltan

 

[Dozer]

Baragon
​

Baragon studied the old mer for quite some time, curious as to his purpose and intentions. None of his furry companions seemed on edge and were just as curious as he was. Deciding now was as good a time as any, the hunter crept out of his hiding spot, the wolves following suit. As quiet as mice, they settled down on the other side of the fire, across from the meditating altmer. His eyes were still closed, but Baragon felt as though the old man knew he was there.

The hunter had never been a real people person, preferring the company of beasts to actual people. He didn't know where to begin with this old mer. He had sneaked into this man's camp, uninvited, and didn't feel like scaring the poor bastard half to death. Not really knowing how to engage with someone who seemed as if they were asleep, Baragon decided to wait until he came out of his...whatever it was.

 

[Locklaklazarii]

South of the city of Alinor there lies a mountain range and upon it's western sides, sparsely populated, there lies a cave dug by wind and water over the eras. It's entrance is well hidden by foliage around it in the dense wooded area. Deep within
the very heart of the cave is a section carved and very reminiscent of a Cyrodiilic (Nibenese) bed chamber. Upon the darkest wall there was a bed, adjacent to that thsre lie a very old tapestry showing the Legend of the first Vampire. The cave howled very faintly and within the bed, which was veild by sheets upon it's border, lay a woman, tall slender and beautiful. This woman looked seperate from the thuggish fiends around her, she wore a simple gown white, as she stirrred her long blonde hair was exposed even more, it gleamed in what little light illuminated the room.

Suddenly the woman awoke, her eyes shot open revealed to be red as blood, she stood and began to walk around to see the bounty that had been collected. She was searching for messages, attention in some ways, and what little riches remained within the Isles... it like the rest of Tamriel was fading. This was welcome news to Lamae as she knew that a fully divided Tamriel would be easier to change, but if the attemp was made too soon, she would face repercussions. She sent out more for raids upon the roads to Alinor by Vampires and their kin.

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

Jor'iskerani 'Journey' Nythrina
Riften
​

Ever since the rise of the Thalmor, it had been an easily noted fact that both those that practice the arcane, and those that delve into the darker arts, were few and far between outside of the Thalmor's control. And she wasn't afraid to state as much either. It was obvious after all, that if some of the more well known and larger necromancy practising cults or vampiric covens were to survive as well as they did, it had to have been with great aid from the Thalmor. While some would question it, the politics and tactics of the plan were simple. Destabilisation so that someone else could take charge.

As she walked towards the gate before her, she saw the guards take note of her, most of her more notable features, such as her ears or tail, hidden beneath a cloak, though anyone with eyes could pick out her bright fur.

"Halt, ma'am. I've never seen you here before. This is your first time to Riften, you'll need to pay the entry tax."

Eyeing the guard as if he were the sorriest man alive, she could tell he was unnerved as she reached into her satchel and pulled forth a sheet of paper. There was a short message and a signature at the bottom, and as the man read it, Journey spoke up.

"I am here to pick up my uncle. He gets drunk about once a month or so, gets arrested, remember?"

Watching as the man's pallor paled at the words, he scrambled to roll up the paper and nodded quickly as he moved to hand it back to Journey. She took the paper in kind and slid it back into her pouch as the guard led her through the front gate, knowing he'd take her to her destination.

See, there had been a group recently, necromancers, who had been receiving a fairly steady supply of bodies to work with. After intercepting one of their deliveries, a bit of interrogation eventually divulged the secret. Paying off Riften guards to get the bodies they needed fresh from the prisons. No one was going to question scum disappearing after all.

Of course, this wasn't something she could abide as a servant of Alkosh, and she had full intent to put an end to it. Her hope was to see if she couldn't find out the location of the main group be tracking down the starting point. As they neared the door to the dungeons the guard began to get fidgety, and Journey saw fit to know why.

"Is there a problem with our arrangement?"

"Oh, ahm, er, no madam. It is just that the previous man that did this before you. He always wanted information on who we could spare, their health, age, that sort of thing."

"I see. And the stock you presented to him was?"

"Always up to standard madam."

Rolling with things well, Journey nodded as she spoke authoritatively, "Precisely. You have not let those I serve down. Is it so wrong that I trust you wouldn't do the same to me?"

Stammering for a moment, Journey gave the man a friendly smile, and while it didn't necessarily calm him, it did at least get him to unwind enough to continue leading her through the door into the dungeons below. As they descended, they passed a handful of guards that barely payed them any heed, somewhat to her surprise. Though she did also notice a large, half empty bottle of mead, so that may have had something to do with it. She knew, though, that she would need them gone at some point, and she had a good idea for it. Reaching back to her belt, she pulled a large sack of septims out and walked over to the table, placing the sack in the lap of one of the guards and whispered to them quickly.

It didn't take long for the lot of them to rise up and, with sack of septims in tow, march out the door towards the tavern. Turning to face the now very worried gate guard, Journey reached up and unclasped her cloak, letting it fall as her full features were revealed to the guard.

"Oh don't worry, you're not in trouble. You see, unlike others, I have more material wants and desires," she breathed as she gave the guard a half-lidded gaze, walking towards him as she swept her tail side to side, "My desires are much more tangible... one could even say... primal."

She had to stop herself from grinning as the befuddled guard came to his conclusion of what she meant, seeing his look of worry swap to one of interest as he watched Journey sashay up to him. She wasn't lying either, she did oft have the primal urge to slaughter the corrupted and evil. Reaching out, Journey watched as the guard took her hand before deciding to act. Her first move was to have a spike of ice erupt from her palm, skewering the guards hand. As he froze almost in shock, she twisted him around and slammed him into the table, pulling one of her hilts from her belt and channelling her magic to form a lethally sharp icene blade that she embedded into the table next to the man's face.

"Where do you send your shipments, fool?" she demanded.

"Go the hell whore!"

Twisting the mans arm, she pulled it out in front of him and pulled the ice spike from it. The man had but a second of relief before she drove her blade into it. Then, grabbing the man's other hand, she slammed it out on the table as she pulled forth her second hilt and let him watch as the blade slowly formed of ice.

"Tell me where you send your shipments, or we'll do this again. Remember, you have ten digits I can start with before I start with the limbs."

Realising he wasn't going to make it out of the situation well unless he complied, the cowardly and corrupt guard began blubbering about some skooma den to the north west. Once she was certain she had all the information she needed she retrieved her blade and knocked the guard unconscious before relieving him of his keys.

If there were people to be shipped in the cells below, it would be best to release them before another courier was sent to retrieve them when the first failed to check in.

Darth Gangsta
uwupolice

 

[CrimsonEclipse]

Ko'Sharra the All-Knowing ​

Become my Champion, and you shall be granted access to the Apocrypha should you succeed.

Her most powerful lord Hermaeus Mora's words still rang in her ears. He has ordered her, his most humble servant Ko'Sharra, to represent his will in Nirn and has sent her on a quest. She was to meet up with people like her, chosen by both Divine and Daedra, to stop the tyranny of the self-proclaimed, though somewhat justified, King of Tamriel, Mithron Adorin himself.

"A grand and glorious task indeed! You shall be the heroes who brings a new era, paragons of virtue and heroism! Your merry band of Immortals shall slay the evil and tyrannical King and finally end his reign of terror! Yeah right." The ever pessimistic and grumpy book said to Ko'sharra, its voice slightly muffled inside her satchel. "Half of you probably doesn't care about saving the world and only joined for the reward their respective Patrons offered them, you're included there. The other half are probably worse than that Mithron, you're part of that group as well."

Ko'sharra giggled as she listened to her friend's tirade, knowing it was only mad since she turned out to be right about the grand quest. "You wound Ko'Sharra, Ko'Sharra also does it for the adventure." She teased, not denying her companion's claims. It was true that she has done unspeakable horrors to further her own goals, and she does not regret them in the slightest.

"Well, it's bound to be exciting if nothing else. I still think someone, or multiple someones, would screw up or betray your group." Said the book, expressing its concern for Ko'Sharra in its own way.

Her sightless eyes stared uselessly in front of her as she walked, the floating magic eye serving the purpose her own eyes cannot. She sees the world differently from others, more bizarre and stranger yet also more beautiful. She can see magick itself, painting the world in front of her. And it just showed her something interesting. Two flows of magick, a trail coming from a person's magick, containing something otherworldly. She has seen this before in the artifacts the Divines and Daedric Princes possesses.

"Immortals." She uttered the word, her voice containing awe and wonder. It was something new, something unknown. And it had ignited her curiosity, her hunger for discovery. She headed towards them, fortunately both seems to be in one spot.

"Would you kindly share your fire with this blind cat?" She purred politely, her head slightly bowing towards the two. "We are, after all, going to the same place."

Dozer Darth Gangsta

 

[Ameridian Stonebear]

" Why did I have to join this fiasco?" He mumbled to himself. It has only been minutes but he felt like days has passed by. He sat quietly as the carrieage was on it's way to Cyrodiil. He was about to sleep when the carriage suddenly stopped and an Argonian climbed up and sat across him. He looks at him as he asks a question.
" How sure are you that I am headed to Cyrodiil?" He said, suspicious of this stranger that he has just met. He immediately realized that he was being rude. He gave a deep sigh and gives the stranger a bow." I'm sorry if I was rude. I'm headed to Cyrodiil due to my master's request. I'm supposed to meet some people in Cyrodiil and talk about things." He said, still suspicious of the Argonian. " How about you? What could an Argonian want in the city of Cyrodiil?"

​

Saint_John446

 

[Saint_John446]

Taneya Kayrean​

Taneya chuckled at his Bosmer acquaintance. "No need to apologize, my good man, your mistrust is well-placed, what with the way the world's been these days. I assumed you were going the same place as I because I asked the carriage driver of the destination to see if it coincided with mine. As for me? I guess you could say I share a similar goal, of finding people to speak of things, but at the behest of a saviour rather than a master." Taneya mimicked the man's bow as a show of good faith. "Now then, with that aside, may I ask what makes an Argonian traveling to Cyrodiil so strange? I've never been out of Skyrim, and I hope to avoid attracting too much attention." Taneya straightened upright to meet the Bosmer's gaze. The Elf was clearly suspicious of him, and why wouldn't he be? After all, the world was not as it once was, and anybody could be anything beyond face value- he had once accepted a settlement's request to vanquish a necromancer only to learn they were bandits on the way back, boy was that really a day? Nonetheless, he kept a friendly appearance, as being angry and withdrawn would do wonders in making the suspicious man even more suspicious. Perhaps even aggressive, Taneya reasoned, noticing the fancy sword at the man's hip
Ameridian Stonebear

 

[Ameridian Stonebear]

He gives a smile and decides that he won't be sleeping in this journey. No matter how friendly the Argonian can be, he could not remove the doubt that he is feeling. He thinks that maybe this Argonian is a spy of the Emperor. A spy who would find those who are about to strike a rebellion against the Emperor. He thought that his "saviour" could be the Emperor. He suddenly became more aware of his surroundings, checking every pathway that could lead to his doom. He was so anxious that he kept thinking of an escape route he could take in case things go worse. He holds the hilt of Dawnbreaker and looks at the Argonian with eyed that are ready to kill. He asked the couch if he could stop the carriage for a while. As soon as the carriage stopped, he stood up and pointed the tip of Dawnbreaker to the eyes of the Argonian. " Who are you and what do you want from me?" He said, clearly convinced that he is a spy. " Were you sent by the Emperor to track us down? " He said, forgetting the fact that his mission was not to be told to others. " I was sent by Meridia to meet others who will take doen the king and if you hinder me from this mission, you will not live to tell the tale." He said as he points the tip closer to his eyes, wanting to make things quick so he can carry on with his task.
Saint_John446

 

[Saint_John446]

Taneya Kayrean​

Taneya sighed as the man pointed his fancy sword in his face, but otherwise made no visible move. "Well, that's a damn shame," he said, "I, personally, thought we were getting along so well. Meridia, you said? That must be the Dawnbreaker, then. I hear it's particularly useful against the undead. Also, it's common courtesy to state your own name before asking someone else's, but if we're pulling weapons out, I guess common courtesy is out the window." Taneya reached up and pulled a fold of his monk robe flat, revealing his amulet of Arkay. "My name is Taneya Kayrean, feel free to call me Taneya. As for what I want, this sword out of my face would be much appreciated." I wonder where we went wrong. I was honestly hoping to have pleasant conversation for a while. "If Meridia sent you, then that makes you and I partners, as the Immortals of the two lords who vehemently oppose the undead- Arkay and Meridia." Taneya leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. "Let me tell you a story. An old man of indeterminate race finds an injured priest in a cave. After saving his life, the old man sends the priest to Cyrodiil to form a council to oppose the tyrannical reign of Mithron Adorin. Tell me, how would a non-Immortal learn of the title before the group is known to the Empire itself if not from a God or Daedra? If that's not proof, then strike me down, and explain to Arkay why he needs a new Immortal. If my words are, indeed, enough, then kindly sheathe your blade and tell me who I have the honour of being threatened by." Taneya kept an even tone and eye contact through his whole explanation, in an attempt to demonstrate how prepared he was if this was his time. Even if it was, the Bosmer's lifeline was not meant to be cut short here, but rather, later, and if Taneya would be around to witness it, or if 'Emperor' Adorin would outlast him, he could not tell. He didn't know why he knew that, just that he did. "It's a shame I may not get to see the world if I didn't convince you, though," he said, "I've always wanted to see Black Marsh."
Ameridian Stonebear

 

[Darth Gangsta]

The orc decided to rest his head on the small sleeping made of straw after introducing himself to the dark elf, whose name was Sedrisa. As Makor let his eyes close, he could hear the sounds of bones cracking, then the sound of a man yelling in pain. He then later heard the sound of a woman, most likely a Khajiit (he recognized the accent).
Minutes later, the sounds ended and the Khajiit stood in front of Makor's jail cell. She opened Makor's sell, then walked over the Sedrisa's cell and unlocked it. Makor looked up at the Khajiit. He stood up swiftly, not sure whether or not to thank her mainly because there was no time to waste. Nonetheless, the orc still thanked her, but quickly. The trio sprinted to the entrance and as they were about to leave, Makor remembered Malacath's gift to him, if he were to forget or ignore the Hammer of Might, the consequences would surely be dire. "Wait! Our belongings." Makor grabbed his equipment (which included his armor, some potions, a short sword, and of course, Volendrung). It would take too long for Makor to put on his Armor, so he did his best to carry all of his equipment.
Moments later, they exited the building "Who are you?" Makor asked the Khajiit, "Why did you save us?"
Pequeno Burraidh uwupolice

 

[Darth Gangsta]

Sauriil opened his left eye then grunted as a response to the Khajiit's question. Sauriil preferred not to talk, especially after he just meditated. "You may stay." Sauriil muttered quietly, clearly annoyed because of the interruption. "I suppose you may come as well." The altmer was referring to Baragon. Sauriil grabbed a pipe and let a flame float over his finger. He lit the long pipe and took a long a drag, then releasing the smoke out of his mouth a few moments later. "Now," The elf pauses to take another drag from the pipe, "what brings you two here?" Both of the individuals looked quite sketchy, especially the one with the wolves. There was something about both of them. Sauriil couldn't put his finger on it, and they both had a strange aura that he couldn't describe, and he wasn't sure if it was a good aura or not. Sauriil grabbed his satchel and stuffed his hand into there, trying to find the little scraps of food left. He then decided to toss the satchel to the Khajiit, "What ever food remains in there, you may have." Sauriil didn't bring many supplies to begin with, especially not food.
Dozer CrimsonEclipse

 

[CrimsonEclipse]

Ko'Sharra the All-Knowing
She gratefully smiled as she sat down among the two persons and three wolves. The elf and man doesn't seem to know that their companions were Immortals. "Thank you for your hospitality Mer." She said as she reached for a sweet roll in her pack, slowly savoring the sweet pastry. Sweet rolls were one of the things she loves as much as she loves knowledge.

"As for Ko'Sharra's purpose, you can say that Ko'Sharra is on an errand for her lord." She said, smiling at her companions. The elf seems to be familiar, his marred face making her recollection quite slow. She has to use the noose to filly remember it, the noose tightening on her neck. She finally remembered where she saw that face in the dusty plains of Morrowind, the hero who defeated Dagoth Ur. "Ko'Sharra assumes that both of you are on the same task as Ko'Sharra. Isn't that right, Nerevarine?"

Darth Gangsta Dozer

 

[Dozer]

Baragon and his wolves smelled the khajiit before she made her self known. He had some knives at the ready in case she decided to start something. Some low growls came from the trio of canines, but they waited for word from their master. Holding out his hand, the hunter silenced them. It was interesting. This khajiit's scent wreaked of dust, scrolls, and pages from old tomes. There was something else in that scent as well. Much like the old mer, it was as if it was other worldly.

Baragon nodded his head, acknowledging the old mer's invitation, and came closer to the fire. "Thanks", was all the gratitude he could muster. People skills weren't really his expertise. Reaching into a pocket, he grabbed his own pipe, lit it, and began smoking. Who was this khajiit that she could just assume she knew what the two of them were doing. Then again, perhaps she was one of the ones Hircine wanted him to meet. "Hmph...what in Oblivion is a Neravarine?"

 

[Ameridian Stonebear]

He slowly sheathes Dawnbreaker and gives an apologetic bow. " I'm sorry if I jumped to conclusions. It is a bit difficult to calm down if you were suddenly sent to a very dangerous task without further warning. So much work lies on my hands, and yet I have come unprepared." He said as he sat down again and told the couch to resume the travel. He offers a handshake to the Argonian, trying to seal the trouble he has caused. " Maybe its time to give my proper introductions. The name is Athar Oakwing, the chosen follower of Meridia. It is a pleasure to meet you." He said, fully convinced that he is an ally. He looks at his bag and grabs a two bottles of Black- Briar Wine, offering the other wine to the Argonian. " Take this as a token of my apology, Its been a long time since I shared a drink with an Argonian." He said, remembering the last time he drank wine with an Argonian. He grabs some Skeever Meat and offers it to the Argonian, being as friendly as possible. " Are you hungry? Do you want some meat? Is there anything else that you would like to eat?" He said, thinking why an Argonian would mention the Black Marsh due to it's downfall. " I never thought that an Argonian would mention the Black Marsh after it's downfall. Most of the Argonians I met would go insane if you mention the Black Marsh to them." He said, trying to make up for the horrible first impression he has shown to the Argonian.

Saint_John446

 

[Saint_John446]

Taneya Kayrean​

Taneya smiled and accepted Athar's gifts and handshake. "There is no need to be so apologetic, my friend, from what I've heard, you have much reason to be suspicious of travelers these days." Taneya opened the bottle of mead and took a large gulp of the wine. "Man, this stuff got better since last I had some," he offhandly commented. "That said, thank you for the gifts, as I was running low on my own provisions anyway." Taneya gestured to his bag, which was far more empty than Athar's, consisting of only a few thin cuts of dried venison and a book he had picked up a few towns ago for some light reading. "Most Argonians don't react well to hearing of Black Marsh, you say?" Taneya asked, "I had heard rumours that the Marshes had been torched, but never saw nor heard anything more specific. I was raised in Skyrim, so it's been a personal goal of mine to see my people's homeland for years." Taneya took a break from his explanation to eagerly pull a few bites of the Skeever Meat off and pop them into his mouth. "I'm glad we can at least be friendly. I will admit, I was apprehensive when Arkay first spoke to me of meeting Champions of other Gods and Daedra, but aside from the little sword-in-the-face business, you seem like quite decent folk." Taneya smiled at his new companion to show how little he was bothered by Athar's suspicions. He raised the bottle he had been handed for a toast. "To new companions and adventures," he said happily. "Speaking of which, do you happen to know where our new companions and adventures are? Arkay gave me little direction, so to speak."
Ameridian Stonebear

 

[Darth Gangsta]

Sauriil chuckled at the man's ignorance, "The Nervarine is the legitimate reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar. I defeated Dagoth Ur, a dunmer who wished to spread the illness known as the Blight throughout Morrowind." The mer eyed the wolves with a graceful look. Sauriil always admired mother nature and its creations. Sauriil still couldn't figure out who or what they were, but their auras now seemed more different from each other, the man's was more primal while the Khajiit's had more of an eerie and mysterious feel to it. He wasn't sure whether or not they both felt the same about each other and he wondered what his aura was like in their perspective.
Dozer CrimsonEclipse