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Current Let them cook and they tell on themselves (:
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11 mos ago
have a lovely weekend everyone
1 yr ago
i was the christmas elf, no elfie this year as i resigned from staff. don't let that stop you from spreading christmas cheer!
1 yr ago
Happy weekend! Hope you all find time to rest and reset. Coffee and catching up on painting for me ❤️
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Wishing everyone a peaceful weekend.


Most Recent Posts

Song on the Water

The Gold Coast, Anvil
13 Midyear, 7:00, apprx

Linus walked the stretching coast by the docks of Anvil, watching out to sea, only half-alert to his partner, Stanis, who walked just beside him. Ever since the killings had started, guards had been vigilant about sticking to pairs on the routes that they had normally taken alone.

It was a strange evening, Stanis thought - he looked at Linus who dragged himself along almost absent mindedly - still watching the water. “Eyes forward, Linus,” he said - his voice gruff as ever. Linus didn’t answer.

“Linus, we’re on duty,” he said with a sigh. It had been a long shift today, two bodies found. But they were almost ready to head back for the swap. Stanis reached out to touch Linus’ shoulder, but found that his reach was not long enough, and that Linus was veering towards the water slowly. “Linus,” he repeated again. This time, Linus stopped still in his tracks. Stanis held up his torch, and noticed his partner's eyes had all but glazed over, and that he looked directly out to the water now.

“What do you see?” he asked, stopping too - to look out at the water. It was too hard to see anything, just a mist on the water that was rolling in. The hair on the back of Stanis’ neck raised and he stepped forward further. Sure enough, there was a momentary break in the clouds and the moon peeked through, a split second of light flashed the outline of a ship on the horizon.

“What the?-” Stanis said, before it disappeared again.

Linus began to walk towards the water, his hands languid at his sides.

Then Stanis too, became aware of a melody, a pleasant humming out on the water - as soon as he noticed it, it seemed to grow louder, and harmonies began to overlap. He started to follow it, trailing behind Linus who was waist deep now.

The two torches disappeared into the mist.

From the dock itself, Amalia had her back turned to the scene. If she had been sooner to notice the torches go out, she might have had more time to prepare. Instead, she and her partner were playing cards, and sat behind a couple of barrels.

“Linus and Stanis should be about here by now,” she said as she began picking up her cards from in front of her. “Then how about we pick this back up at the Donkey?”

Her partner nodded in response, picking up his cards too. “We can meet them by the stairs, come on.” As he stood up, his knees cracked. “Need oiling these things do,” he groaned. “Too old for this shit now,” he added and began walking forward - suddenly stopping. “You hear that?” he asked Amalia, he turned his head out towards the water - hearing a whisper of a melody on the waves, a hauntingly beautiful sound that he turned towards entirely. “A bard…” he sighed.

“What are you talking about?” Amalia scoffed, watching him, and then looking out towards the stairs to see no sign of Stanis and Linus. As she turned back to her partner, he was already walking in the opposite direction to her down the wooden boardwalk toward the water.

“Could be a woman in trouble,” he said.

“I don’t hear anything, come on - lets just go,” she said, the distance between them growing until her partner took a step too far and dropped below and into the sea. “Gods!” Amalia exclaimed - she felt frozen. Something wasn’t right. She had just heard the splash of the guard as he dropped in, he didn’t come back up. All of her instinct told her to run in the opposite direction. Find someone else.

“Move,” she said, willing her feet to move - but something held her in place and her heart raced in her chest. “Move,” she said again, finally finding that she could - now her entire body felt flushed and hot with the fear, and she began running back towards the city. Get to Uriel, she thought. He’ll know what to do.

She might have made it, if only she had kept her eyes forward. If only she hadn’t looked back. It was then that she saw it, the imposing and unmistakable shape of a ship moving into the dock. It had no lights, no torches lit, and black sails. Amalia stopped.

They leapt out from both sides of the dock. Pirates, she thought, as she drew her own sword - ready to fight them. “Get back,” she shouted out, “you never should have come here,” she said.

The mist from the water had made it’s way to land now, and had engulfed her to the waist. Only one of the pirates moved - floated towards her, his soaked cloak clinging to a thin frame, as he drew nearer, she could make out a gaunt face and pointed ears. He smiled wide. She saw his teeth.


It was the usual game on a Sunday afternoon when Mother was home. She’d be in her office, reading, filing, sending messages to all the other important people like her that lived up in the stars. Solveig grinned from behind the bookcase, her hand holding her wrist as she held her breath to save herself from chuckling. She could see her father down the hall - halfway through his afternoon tea and open sandwiches.

When Mother was at her most focussed, the child struck - jumping out with the high-pitched roar of a tiny monster. “Raaaaaoooouuur!” she sounded out, raising both arms - Mother at first, jumping, and then wincing at the sight.

“If you keep sneaking up on me like that Solvieg, you’re going to give me a-”

“Heart attack,” said the doctor, the corners of her mouth tugged to one side. “It was a heart attack, Ms Wistrom.”

Solveig sighed, and just glanced down at the table. At the face looking back. With eyes closed, she looked more peaceful than she ever had. Solveig, ever the pale spectre at her side reflected on the steel table.

“With it being sudden, she hadn’t really left anything in particular - but we did find this,” she handed Solveig a wooden box, which was passed to the cybernetic arm - the fingers gripped around it robotically, as Solveig continued to stare down at the body.

“She was a good soldier, your mother. I’m… So sorry for your loss,” the doctor said, sighing before pulling the sheet over the face once again.

Solveig didn’t say a word, instead turning for the door.

The doctor seemed surprised, opening her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing and sending her face into a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay? Not in shock? Perhaps you should sit outside for a while, we have people you can talk to.”

“No need,” Solveig finally answered before heading off, box in hand.


The last two days had been spent almost entirely in transit. Carrying that box from station to station to get back to Earth, the news delivered to her to return to the Alliance immediately, to be taken off planet to the clinic with her mother’s body. All she could think about was Katya. She was missing, unreachable.

And here was Solveig, stood in some stupid cigar lounge listening to someone else with their quiet commands. She understood. She knew the deal. One job, then the next, then the next. Don’t question, just sit and shoot - and shoot to kill. Solveig took no drinks, no cigars. Hell, she hadn’t even washed in the two days - her hair sat oily upon her head in a mess of braids. Yesterday’s make-up smudged around her eyes like shaken outlines on her ghostly face.

As her new party began taking turns to speak - she thought of the box up in her room, how she’d just left it on the desk - how even the room was clinical, unlived in. Katya’s room. Maybe something was there?

Why wasn’t she given that room? She wondered. Her datapad blipped as the only other human spoke up.

”“I say we split into two teams. Half of us go to investigate the signal while the other half go to secure the shuttle. You can handle the politicking at the good mayors’ party. Safety in numbers plus we can accomplish more at the same time.”

Solveig glanced at her datapad, at the message that had been received. Alliance, N7 - a send all, an obituary dedicated to Agnes Wistrom, Decorated Soldier, War Hero. She put the datapad back in her pocket. The cigar smoke was stifling all of a sudden and she raised a finger to her neckline, fidgeting at it before finally speaking up.

“I’ll get the shuttle,” she snapped out, before setting to walk away from the group and head to her room to fetch her equipment, to wash the film of clammy sweat from her face, a pill too. A pain burned behind her eyes, and the old familiar tingles in the arm began to itch - her shoulder writhed and the prosthetic thrummed just so, like it was called to task.
Okay, I am finally done.

Wonderful character as always Kass!

As I'm reading this history I am sensing so much opportunity! Love your writing friend, please add her to the char tab!
Hey there! I see you mentioned a loose deadline by the end of Feb, and I also see this is still tagged apply - mind if I jump in? I have an idea for a Bosmer and I'd love to write w/ you guys! c:


<Snipped quote>
nvm, I missed this part. Here's an early wip of an absolutely normal fisherman who definitely knows how to sail a boat and operate a fishing pole and isn't lying to you. Yep. Nothing fishy about this guy except for the sea bass he's selling you that he assuredly caught himself.

Hello! Welcome to the RP :)

I'm happy to add Haesil to the roster of characters -- as per your note about Glamour - I think it makes narrative sense for him as a character to be changing using magic and tricks and honestly even Illusion as a skill, when written well, can do things like this.

Interesting, tricky character to add to an already interesting roster! You can join. If there are bits of the sheet you're still tinkering with then just add the sheet in full when you're finished to the Char tab, and feel free to write your intro post

If you have discor, I'll PM you the link shortly.
Howdy all!

Hope you enjoyed those quick intro posts!

Whether your character has been in Anvil for a while, or has just got there is up to you! If they're fresh in the city that day they won't know about the other murders compared to someone who has been there for longer and therefore does. The murders have taken place across a 5 week period or so.

It's up to you to decide! What will be more fun for you?

As long as your character is in Anvil, and makes their way to the Dancing Donkey, for your first post that's excellent 🙂

Overall, the vibe in Anvil is heavy! People have taken note of these killings and act accordingly - the guards, seeing as they lost one of their own are also on edge with people. There is distrust and fear.

Happy roleplaying!

The Dancing Donkey Inn, Anvil
13 Midyear, 5:46

"Yeah I heard about Lucius. Found the poor fuck with more'n twenny stab wounds, his house a right rotten mess too."

"Another one..."

"Something like that, seems to be gettin' out of hand now. Guards are meant to protect us and now the killings are happnin in our homes!"

"An outrage..."

"You're wrong."

"And who asked you?"

"I'm just saying-"

"No-one fuckin' asked!"

"Yeah, no one..."

"When you talk as loud as you fetchers do, you invite the entire inn to your conversation."

"Alright then, tell me why I'm so wrong?"

"Lucius was stabbed. Many times, as you recount."

"Yeah. Stabbed dead as a doornail."

"Yeah, twenty times."

"Actually it was six, exactly."

"You calling me a liar?"

"No. Perhaps your ears are dirty, anyway -"

"Fuck this, and fuck off Greyskin."

"...Sorry about him."

"Don't be."

Uriel was sat in earshot of the tense conversation, but just far enough away that he didn't draw attention - not even from the Dunmer who had proven himself to be astute; or at least a good listener. He was right, Lucius had suffered exactly six stab wounds. Upper arm, chest, twice in the shoulder, once in the belly, and a final in the neck. He wondered too if the Dunmer was aware of the second body they'd found that day - of Gionato, another dockhand who had been found with a Vedori heirloom in his jacket.

He surmised that the Dunmer could recall that the other bodies had all been found to have been killed by a blunt-force trauma.

Uriel knew that the Dunmer wouldn't know that each body had been exsanguinated. That was known by only the guards and a local healer they employed to examine the bodies. It was clear as crystal that Gionato had murdered Lucius, but then had found himself in trouble.

As Uriel drank from his glass, he looked around the place. He wasn't on duty tonight, and so he slouched over the bar, his golden eyes tracking the movements of the barkeep, finding that he liked the sight of the flash of skin of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned just so.

He kept that lonely feeling of longing to himself.

The vision in front of him became the bottom of his glass again - empty, and the barkeep approached.

"Need a top up, Uriel?" he asked with a friendly smile.

Uriel just pushed the glass closer to him, a slight nod, "sure."

He waited until the barkeep was tending to someone else before he looked back up and let out the breath he had been holding.

Outside of the Inn, the sun was setting - early, for a summer night, and unusual.

Across the darkening Gold Coast, the umber burning sunset made way for an ill wind to begin to howl.

An 0th post for a taster!

The official first post will be up ASAP - for those of you who would like to start an intro, you can expect it to take place the evening after the murder of Gionato and Lucius - where, spooky things will happen! But, as is usual, please refrain from posting in the IC until that post has been made! it will be in the next 24 hours :)

An Evening in Anvil
12 Midyear

It was quiet. Too quiet.

As if the people of Anvil had hurried to bed. Barred their doors and bunkered down to hide from the bright moon that bore down like a giant eye watching every winding path, glaring at each shelter, each slope of a roof that cast a safe shadow to escape it.

The streets were all but empty save for one gentleman, Gionato, who staggered away from a broken window. His wallet heavier, and his pocket-knife slick with blood, he pulled his hood over his head, pulling the drawstring tight around his collarbone as he kept to the darkness and away from the pale.

He should have worried less about the light.

Behind him, a shape that he did not detect - moved near silently, slowly, stalking - a predator. A claw like hand twitched at blood that dripped from the blade of his knife as he scurried faster still through the night.

He thought he was safe.

Gionato knew about the killings. The first had been Maebh, a Nord woman who worked at the docks. The second an older man named Alastare, who, according to many, was just an old pervert. A seamstress and a barkeep. Finally, the third had been a guardsman - his body washed up on the shore all bloated and grey.

Those three weren't him though, besides, he could handle himself. By tomorrow morning, the death and robbery of Lucius Vedori would also be attributed to this other killer.

Gionato, as well as being a petty criminal turned murdering thug, was simply criminally stupid.

He turned the key to his front door, hearing it open with a click. It wasn't until he arrived home that the thrill of his kill hit him, and his hands began to shake - a fear set in that mixed with pride and excitement - his belly hungry for more of it as he finally felt the stickiness of blood across his shirt, under his fingernails, on his chin, his cheek.

As he made his way in, his mouth formed a rictus grin in the shadows. He kneeled down at his hearth, the silent light of the moon trickling through the window, a gap in a makeshift curtain, enough for him to find a flint and some kindling. After a moment or two, his hearth was filling with a small and crackling flame, and he began to calm from the adreneline. He placed the bloody knife beside him, and began to peel off his shirt - a thought that it would burn up quickly on the flames.

“Hello,” came a smooth, clear voice from behind him.

He turned around, faster than a startled doe at the sound of a twig snapping. There. In the corner. A figure, on his chair.

The light wasn’t enough to show a face -- but she was distinctively feminine, at least the voice was. “Wh-who goes there?” he stammered out, taking hold of the poker with his clammy grip.

He sensed the stranger stand up, and as the fire grew greater he began to make out a shape. Tall, a slender waist, and long hair the colour of the moonlight. He swallowed down and realised he had nowhere to go. He was too frightened to stand. “I-I-I have children… You know that… I have children…” he pleaded, brow sweating profusely. In the flickering light of the fire he finally made out her face. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been this.

She closed the distance between herself and Gionato.

He swore that he heard the glint of her blade as the moonlight struck it. That was the last thing he heard, before she smiled peacefully at him, after that, only true darkness.
The 28th is here!







I'm really happy with all sheets and character proposals here - I know some are still a WIP, but the vibe and excitement of everyone here is fantastic - happy to have history in bullet points if it's easy :)

Thank you everyone for choosing to join this game! It's been a wee while since I've GM'd anything, and I'm trying to take what I've learned along the way and make this a good, fun game.

For any other interested writers - this game will never be "full" and you can always apply - I just ask that you know enough about where the story currently is in order to make an entrance if it's later down the track. I may have you hold off for a story moment or something.

First post coming very soon - I'm looking forward to the intros, the collabs, and the joy (and horrors!) to come! :)
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