Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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Wʜᴀᴛ A Lɪɴᴇ?!


Hello there, writers of RPG!

I thought of this neat little idea just a while ago and figured I'd just go ahead and make a thread for it. I am sure it'll get used by some of you one day, so it'd be here whenever you guys feel the need to do so.

Okay, what this thread entails is as the title of it exemplifies as there are many, many great writers here that throw in that one line or paragraph in their posts that make us feel like this, right? If you feel a way about a line or a paragraph from a roleplay that you are in or currently reading then feel free to post it here. This line can witty, beautiful, sad, etc, etc! Below, you'll find a code of how I would like for your posts to look.

[b]From:[/b] Title of the roleplay
[b]Post Written:[/b] [url=link of the post]Post[/url]
[b]Written By:[/b] [@mention] the writer of the post
[b]Written Words:[/b] The line or paragraph


Let it be known that you only post here, if you have a line or paragraph to share and the person mentioned, is free to post here, as well. This is to avoid arguments or trolls as this thread is used for a specific purpose. Positivity and good vibes only, please.

Thank you for your time and hope this thread gets put to good use.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Greenie
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Greenie

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From: The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep
Post Written: Damaged Does Not Mean Broken
Written By: @Dervish
Written Words: "...damaged does not mean broken. Nothing is meant to stay unworn, Sirine. Fabrics fade in the sun, a blade gets chipped and scratched. But with care and effort, something can last forever, for as long as you want it."
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by HaleyTheRandom
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HaleyTheRandom ☣ Hurricane Eyes ☣

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@Dervish Those are some pretty words.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Dervish
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Dervish Let's get volatile

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@HaleyTheRandom That is very kind of you to say! Sometimes my brain comes up with something that people might take to heart, and that's the kind of stuff that makes this a really rewarding hobby. :)
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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@Dervish I should've commented earlier but I agree with Haley, to be honest. There's such power and depth behind those words and speak a lot of truths in many ways. :) Good job.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Dervish
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Dervish Let's get volatile

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@BleedingLover Kind of surprised! Without all of the context with the characters, sometimes something might not translate to those who aren't familiar with what's going on and the relationship two characters have. Zaveed had described both of them being damaged goods in an endearing way, but explained that to Sirine shortly afterwards. For a couple of a really blooded former pirates, they can be kind of wholesome. ;D
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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@Dervish Just that line alone makes me quite intrigued though.

@Greenie Thanks for sharing it with us!
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Greenie
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Greenie

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@Dervish Just that line alone makes me quite intrigued though.

@Greenie Thanks for sharing it with us!

You're most welcome <3 It's always lovely to share something profound, especially when it's my good friend's writing :3 Glad you enjoyed!
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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<Snipped quote by BleedingLover>
You're most welcome <3 It's always lovely to share something profound, especially when it's my good friend's writing :3 Glad you enjoyed!


Such a lovely comment here. <3 I did more than enjoyed it, to be honest.

Thanks again. :)
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Dervish
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[code]From: Vengeance of the Deep
Post Written: https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4864356
Written By: @Hank
Written Words: He could see himself in the mirror on the other side of the tent. It was an unsettling sight. He did not feel like he was looking at his own body at all, but just a vessel that happened to occupy the space around his eyes. Somehow, Gregor was convinced that he was somewhere else, and not inside his own head. That this was all just… a window into a world he no could no longer call home.

This line really just hit home the horrifying consequences that had been built up for the character for the entire roleplay, and it was such vivid imagery that put me right into Gregor's shoes and appreciate exactly what this character is feeling and experiencing, and it's haunting and hopeless. I love it.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Hank
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Hank Dionysian Mystery

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From: Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep
Post Written: A SHADOW FALLS
Written By: @Stormflyx
Written Words:

“But he’s not alone.”

A sharp and resonant voice rang out amongst the quieting chaos as the battle was seemingly reaching it’s brutal climax. As the flashes of magical energy withered down and the last crumbs of rubble hit the floor with the smouldering clouds of ethereal ash - there was one woman who stood in the eye of the storm.

A single long, thick braid of ash blonde hair was hanging from the crown of her head, so bleached from the Hammerfell sun that it appeared almost silver in the otherworldly luminescence of the room. Her eyes were hardened - the colour somewhere between the steel of a sword and the blue of oceans and outlined with dramatic charcoal. There was a dewy glow on her skin as the magicka contained within her potion wore off and left her dead centre between her fallen paramour, and Governor Razlinc Rourken.

Dressed in white, she wore a light chain armour fashioned into scales across her shoulders in a bronze shade - so delicate it was that it would barely be functional against anything the Dwemer had in her arsenal against them if what Raelynn Hawkford had witnessed from the shadows under the guise of her invisibility, was to tell her. Rourken was perhaps a Master Sorceress and she and Gregor were outmatched physically, and still she was not about to let another finger be laid against him.

Rourken was shielded, but that would not stop Raelynn from making sure she had her full attention. He needs time she thought to herself, as she unrolled a scroll that had been gripped in one hand and read out the phrasing with such an unwavering intensity that she surprised even herself. She did not aim for Rourken, no. The single bolt of lightning was fired up to the ceiling - to a chandelier that was central in the room - made up of Dwemeri alloys and crystalline glass shards. How beautiful it must be illuminated. She imagined how painstaking and agonising it would be for a servant to light each candle. Agony that would immediately be erased at the scintillating beauty that would come from it.

The bolt tore through the alloy with such a ringing ferocity and a cacophonous blare of vibration that shattered every piece of crystal. Glass rained down over the room like a spray of diamonds.

“He has me.”




I understand that is way more than a line or a paragraph. I still wanted to share it.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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@Hank You shared it and that's all that matters, honestly. It was a really, really excellent read and the descriptiveness flows really well. :)

@Stormflyx Thought I'd mention you so you can see how much I enjoyed reading that.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by spicykvnt
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From: Vengeance of the Deep




There are a lot of amazing posts in our roleplay. At this point, to me it almost feels like a disservice to call it a roleplay - it's taken on so much more than that. It's basically a novel now, last I checked the word count surpassed some of GRRM's heftier Game of Thrones novels. It's insanely long, and dramatic, with more twists and turns than a theme park...

The love that this group puts into their posts is beyond anything I've ever seen or been a part of, Vengeance of the Deep has taken on a life of its own, each character very important with their own story to tell, their own perspective to share, their own struggles and triumphs. Every week, as a group we discuss and digest posts together, and just from this I've seen the quality of writing overall grow - and it's not that anyone was ever a bad writer, we just consistently push ourselves - try new things, get controversial, and bring real drama.

There have been times that I've read a post from this roleplay and had to walk away - the level of emotional attachment to these trash babies is at times, too much, but that's why I love it so much. I've laughed, I've cried, I've been angry at it - but overall loved every moment.

Here are some of my favourite bits from each writer, from recent memory.

To my VotD fam. I could fill this thread with dozens of snippets of each of your posts - keep on keeping on.



Post Written: All to Pieces
Written By: @Leidenschaft // Latro
Written Words:

How a desert with heat that threatened to broil the skin from Latro’s body could instantly turn to something akin to a tundra when night came around was mind-boggling to the Reachman. If things were sunny, they were hot. If not, they were cold. Day and night, sun and clouds, it was normal in the Reach, in High Rock, even in Skyrim. He sat on his lonesome at the edges of camp, sleep eluding him almost like Sora in the crowds earlier, and so he snuck out of their tent when she was fast asleep with that soft snore she always fell into when she was deep enough in it. He tip-toed soundlessly through the moonwashed sand, the shine bright enough to cast shadows and light to make sure his steps were sure. There was no sounds but the breeze flapping loose tent flaps or the soft or loud snores and other sounds of sleeping people. It was even quieter out on his lonesome, sitting on the peak of a dune with pale gray desert stretching off to nothing but hazy rumors of dunes at the edge of his vision. The stars were bright pin-pricks in the sky, tiny, infinitesimal, but innumerable bastions of light in the void.


Post Written: Scales of Shadow
Written By: @Mortarion // Jaraleet
Written Words:

"No, I must focus." He mentally chided himself. Now was not the time to worry. He was a Haj-Eix, the hidden blade used by the An-Xileel to protect Argonia. As Jaraleet began to follow after the Redguard, he unconsciously began muttering an old poem in Jel.

"Stars in darkness, constellation
Tell us those we must collect
Given to the needed clutch
To be taught the needed ways"

He suddenly stopped as he remembered Raelynn telling him, Meg, and Gregor about what she had underwent at the hands of Zaveed. The way that the experience had scarred her. "Why, why this now. I need to focus." Jaraleet thought, shaking his head. He couldn't let anything distract him. He breathed deeply and set his focus once more on his, still unaware, quarry. As he began to follow after the Redguard once more, he began to recite the poem again.

"Scales of shadow, hands of death
Sithis honored by your blade
To create the needed change
By the blood which must be spilt"

"For you Jaraleet I feel comfort, solidarity. I see in you embodying home, our home in every sense of the word." Judena's words from the party suddenly echoed in his mind, reminding Jaraleet of what he had spoken with the elder Argonian about. "I do not embody anything Jude..." Jaraleet quietly whispered in Jel to the night. "I am merely the tool by which our home is protected. With which our brothers and sisters are defended. Nothing more, and nothing less." He finished, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He had to focus, he was getting closer to his quarry. The moment to strike would be soon. As he pulled his weapons from their scabbards, the poem continued.

"You who join the brotherhood
Guided by just one untruth
Remember our nothing words
Look upon with nothing eyes"

Jaraleet froze for a second when, suddenly, the Redguard agent turned around. The Argonian assassin pressed himself into the nearby shadows of a corner and waited for his quarry to continue on. And, as he waited, he couldn't help but reminisce about the night when Meg had come to ask him for help in locating Daro'Vasora. Without thinking, he suddenly moved his hand to the spot where he knew the bullet had lodged itself. "Why? Why did I do that?" He thought, remembering the overwhelming feeling that had overtaken him when Meg had been spotted by one of the palace sentries. Any further thoughts, however, were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing in the night. His quarry was moving again, and the hunt continued. And, again, the poem continued from where it had been left.

"One day, when your snout is pale
To the swamps you will return
Darkness remains in your heart
For your scales are shadow still."


Post Written: The Kthrakz Mile
Written By: @Spoopy Scary // Aries
Written Words:

As the rest of the party began to retrace their steps toward the exit with the company of the countless prisoners in tow, Aries brought up the rear, reflecting on what she had done and said. The cat was out of the bag now, and there was no more keeping up this charade. This could very well place a target on her back, but it was a target she would have to wear sooner or later. She looked down at the body of Nzarhk and contemplated the Dwemer for a moment. She essentially had just made an official declaration of war on them. Well, if she was going to do it, then she ought to do it right.

Aries looked to her hand and pulled off a small diamond ring from her finger. It had once been the engagement ring given to her by Fontaine Motierre. Now, it was plunged into one of the open wounds in the Dwemer’s body, where the diamond would be colored red with blood.

“O Akatosh,” Aries muttered as she marched after her allies, “let my enemies find the Red Diamond and know that their troubles are far from over, and that an Empire still yet lives in me.”


Post Written: Control
Written By: @Greenie // Sirine
Written Words:

"There's an old saying, not sure where it's from, but it's apt." Bowl now empty, Sirine set it down once more, sighing softly with satisfaction. She hadn't expected a good meal when she came here, so even if her mind was unsettled, at least her stomach wasn't. "A person who has had their tongue burned will blow even on cold milk. Trust... isn't something I easily dispense, and I'll admit the first day here I was very wary that anyone may just stab Zaveed at night and be done with it. If I was in your place, I would have. Even now, I do not fully trust anyone here save my two companions, though the notion that he'll be killed is no longer there at least." She paused, thinking about what Gregor had said, what Sevari had just mentioned to her." I've been hearing this a lot since I came here. Good people. Better people. I'm not that, there's no way I could be after my deeds."

She spared a glance at Raelynn before taking the apricots, holding them in her lap for the time being. "Even as a small time pirate, there was one thing the people I interacted with knew- I keep my word, I don't betray people I have agreed to help. Sevari is keen on keeping friends in this group, and I will not make that difficult for him. As for Zaveed..." Push come to shove, she would follow him; she trusted him the most and he was the one leading her to her ultimate goal back... home. And if she was being honest with herself, she enjoyed his company. It was nice to finally spend time with someone who seemed to relate to her and enjoyed the nautical life as much as she did… had. "The last thing he wishes at the moment is to antagonize this group further, and I'm not going to squander his effort. I don't expect this group to have faith in my words- I certainly wouldn't- but if you wish to hear it, then that is a 'no'. No, I will not run and leave someone behind to suffer. I have never been that sort of coward."

Looking at the apricots in her hand, she deposited a couple in her free one before before bringing the sole dried fruit to her mouth, chewing methodically when she did. Questions still lingered in her mind, some more than others, and yet she no longer had the heart or drive to ask them.


Post Written: The Kthrakz Mile
Written By: @Hank // Gregor
Written Words:

Gregor locked eyes with the Dwemer as his death approached. “My turn,” the Pale Reaper hissed and his baleful gaze flashed crimson with malice. He held up a hand so that the Dwemer could see what object he had pulled from one of his waist-lined pouches; a black soul gem, empty and cold to the touch. The Dwemer’s throat was too damaged for him to say anything further and he died without another word, sliding down the wall as blood gushed down his front. Just before Sirine had delivered the killing blow, Gregor had cast a soul trap of his own on the Dwemer executioner and he was about to reap the fruits of his labor.

With a loud, rushing sound, like the abysmal gale of some great, unseen hurricane, a flash of purple light left the Dwemer and nestled itself in the soul gem in Gregor’s palm. Unlike the souls of Nblec and Kerztar before him, which had turned their gems merely a more opaque shade of purple and filled them with swirling energy, this Dwemer’s soul was filled with darkness and it spread through the gem like black tendrils of ink. Gregor could feel the weight of his crimes, the souls of the death row inmates he had stolen, and he almost dropped the gem in disgust. “Repulsive,” he muttered and put the soul gem back in his pouch. “This fate is too good for you.”


Post Written: stop
Written By: @LadyTabris // Anifaire
Written Words:

Who attacked the inn. The husk of the building was left, the panic filling her as she recalled Alim had been inside, that others had been there. She caught side of a Redguard, face down and burned, a man, on the ground, and reached down to flip him over in a hurry, trying not to wretch from the scent of burnt flesh

Are there birds in the desert?

The body was disfigured, burns marred the face grotesquely; the imagine burned into her mind. She remembered him, someone she’d at the inn several times before, and it disturbed her to see someone she recognized limp and lifeless, yet she was relieved though her horror - not Alim, no, Alim hadn’t been there. They took him, the Dwemer took him while they freed Daro’Vasora, and there was nothing she could do to help when they didn’t even know

The desert must be free of mosquitos. A minor blessing, at least one thing to be grateful for.

Alim was taken, like others had been. Anger tinged her thoughts as she wished she could wade her way through Dwemer until she was sure he was well, yet she could do nothing of the sort, because she was just Anifaire, a useless noble lady who could do little more than throw stones in a fight. Hopelessness surpassed the twinge of anger she’d felt, as she felt disjointed, disconnected, Alim was her friend, this group unlike anyone she'd known in Alinor, yet the Dwemer could just meander into the inn and take one, leaving behind them a gore-filled mess of bodies and the scent of blood and burning and

Her body stilled, breathing steadier, tears falling gently, an emptiness forming in the pit of her stomach as she cried in the solitude of her tent walls.


Post Written: The Kthrakz Mile
Written By: @Amaranth // Shakti
Written Words:

Shakti sighed and passed through the door, into the office. The Warden was already standing, a sword in his hand, clearly having heard the deaths of his lackeys. In another life, he perhaps would have been called handsome, his features were indeed pleasing to the eye and did not belie the inherent cruelty that came with being both a traitor and a warden of a prison. His black hair was pulled into a small ponytail, and his armour was clearly expensive. None of this was evident to Shakti. His face to her was the root of all wickedness in this plane, it was a candle she would snuff the unholy light from. It was not worthy of the crescent cloak he wore around his body, it was not worthy of the worms that would consume his body before the day was done.

Sweat pooled on his forehead as he demanded to know what was going on. Shakti wiped the blood from her blade with Khesh’s cloak. “Betrayer!” She shrieked, “You killed him! You murdered Taren Nasaaj, my father! He trusted you and you killed him!” Her voice was raw and full of emotions, anger, sorrow, grief, and hatred. Her words were at once both accusatory and damning. Shakti was the Judge, the Jury and soon, the Executioner in this mockery of Justice.


Post Written: Two Birds of a Feather
Written By: @DearTrickster // Maj
Written Words:

Getting a closer look over of Maz, Maj’s eyes settled on the tattoos intricately lining her face, counting the earrings lining her long pointed ears. The scars as well, they were pitted and marked along her arms, the former Corsair not making any attempts to be subtle in her observation. She leaned into the bar, settling her cheek against the heel of her palm she said, smiling, “There ain’t a single ugly thing about you. Hi, I’m Maj.”


Post Written: Fountain of Serenity
Written By: @Dervish // Daro'Vasora
Written Words:

The Khajiit leaned back into the embrace, nuzzling Raelynn's head as her hand moved up to run through the woman’s hair. “The Moons all have phases, the dark and the light. It is what determines what form a Khajiit will take. People are no different; I can tell he loves you, and you love him. He is the dark of the moon, you are the light. You must be the Bright Moon that guides his steps into the light and resist the temptations to go into the dark,” Daro'Vasora said, almost sensually, her voice little more than a whisper. “Each of us walk a path, sometimes it is shrouded in darkness, other times the moon illuminates the way. Always find the light, and you will never be wrong, Ko'Raelynn.”


Post Written: The Kthrakz Mile
Written By: @Lemons // Gaius
Written Words:

“HEY DICKKNOT!” came Gaius’ shout, rebounding down the still-quiet cell block, “YEAH, YOU, WARDEN! YOU TINY, SHIT-CAKED, CANKLE-RIDDEN MONGREL! WHY DON’T YOU JUST DIE AND SAVE YOUR SUPERIORS THE TROUBLE? GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOUR FILTHY RACE CAME FROM!”

Nharzk was almost to the end of the cell block when the shout came ricocheting down the narrow corridor, and what conversation there had been fell silent. He stood still at the door, debating whether to turn or not. There was no debate, not really. Only the seconds between this moment, and the moment that he would turn around and turn to violence. He sucked air through his teeth, letting his tongue roll across the front row, veins bulged outwards from his thick neck as he clenched his jaw.


(definitely meets the criteria of, wow, what a line lmao)

Post Written: The Kthrakz Mile
Written By: @POOHEAD189 // Alim
Written Words:

Alim went from sly and amused to suddenly warm and taken with emotion when he saw Anifaire. He almost forgot they had the jail door open, and he opened his mouth, about to ask Gaius how he looked. But he decided it was stupid to ask in front of Ani, and so overcome with a feeling of pent up emotion that he suddenly didn’t care. He stepped over Nharzk’s corpse, walked out of the cell, made his way over to Anifaire and pulled her into a kiss.

“I should have done that a while ago.” he said.



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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by POOHEAD189
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POOHEAD189 Warrior

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From: Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention
Post Written: Collab
Written By: @Stormflyx
Written Words:
Relyssa audibly gasped and a shuddered breath left her trembling lips as she looked upon it. The way that each individual stone shimmered and glittered under the light of the moon… It was almost too much to handle. Said glimmers lit up the high points of her face - and in turn emphasised a darkness in the hollows of her cheeks, and under her eyes. It made her expression appear almost sinister in the brief second before she placed a shaking finger on the gold frame of the tiara - a moan escaped her and she bit down hard on her lip. “Oh my…” she sighed, taking it swiftly from Alim’s hands.

“You’re a good little thief indeed…” she continued as she paced the balcony with the piece in her grasp, her grip tightening around it, her eyes lost in the carats of the jewels. She hummed, ooohed, and aaahed at it. If one were to hear the sounds without the context, they may have expected the woman to have been in as much of a knot as the couple upstairs… “Oh Alim… Thank you…”


This entire section had me like "if I am going to write for a female villainess/greedy rogue, take notes." I loved it.

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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by BleedingLover
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BleedingLover Mistress of Evil / The Evil Queen

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@Stormflyx @POOHEAD189
Such great contributions to the thread and I thank you both for them. <3 Awesome work by the writers mentioned.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by POOPHEAD189
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Kinda late to the party, but here's another excellent piece from the RP @POOHEAD189 mentioned.

From: The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention
Post Written: Collab
Written By: @Hank
Written Words:

“No,” came the immediate response, blunt and decisive -- or so Narzul liked to think. Truth be told, it was petulant, born from the overwhelmingly frustrating idea that if Narzul had simply been surrounded by Redoran warriors instead, his own people who knew their place (and, more importantly, Narzul’s place), and that if he had a proper suit of armor instead of the low-quality disguise he had stuffed into his chest with disgust, Bleakrock Isle would have been a completely different story. The Armiger’s spear would have glanced off an ebony cuirass and left him unharmed instead of gouging a deep wound into his abdomen. More importantly, nobody would have forced him to be at the vanguard of the party, crossing unstable bridges with mercenaries that looked like they should be dead four times over. He had been a general, for crying out loud, but Dumhuvud had reduced him to a ‘tin can’ without a second thought.

He could see from the look on Sadri’s broken face that the older Dunmer knew all that and was guiding him towards the obvious truth; he was not surrounded by his Redoran allies. Narzul was going to have to learn to make due with what he got and to accept his current place in life. Ashav had made it perfectly clear when Narzul went to properly sign up with the Company that he was just another soldier now, a member of the infantry, and no more. But Narzul’s innate reluctance to accept this was exacerbated by Sadri’s inflammatory tone and extremely disrespectful sarcasm. At the same time, Narzul realised that the only reason he was even listening to Sadri was because the latter wasn’t sugarcoating his words. Niernen had already told him the same things, but he didn’t listen to her. And so it dawned on Narzul why Sadri was so successful at prying open Narzul’s facade; his candidness. Nobody he cared about had dared to be so blunt with him since his time at the garrison as an ordinary guardsman, twenty years ago.

“Perhaps,” Narzul said eventually. His body language softened as he laid the ebony sword across his lap and he glanced away, avoiding Sadri’s face -- he did not need to see the look of triumph that would undoubtedly flit across it. “There’s an old saying that goes as follows: ‘One must row with the oars he has.’ I suppose it’s true,” he added and stared out over the sea.


Context: Narzul is a former general searching for his lost sister, Niernen. He finds his sister in a mercenary company and joins as a mercenary himself to protect her. Narzul's conversation above with Sadri (played by @Peik), a callous adventurer, shows him questioning his superiority.

This is one of the my favorite passages from the RP. We talk about character growth and transformation a lot, and @Hank (with the help of @Peik) just pulled it off perfectly there, subtle yet impactful.
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