Chrononaut

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness, Occult Action and Intrigue

"Yeah, man, like, you know, I saw black shadowy figures once, back at Woodstock."

As long as ONE OF US ends up in an insane asylum, I'm IN.

Things that you would ban

Presenting Donald Trump in anything resembling a pleasant light.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

A Farewell to Facades - Sometime Before the Investigation.

---

Raelyn, in the dead of night, burst into Solveigs bedchambers. Her eyes were lost in shadow, and blood dripped from a split lip. She stood in the doorway, leaning against it as if in delirium.

She said through heavy, panting breaths, "I..." she coughed, spitting a globule of blood and saliva onto the floor. "I need your help."

The knife in Solveig's outstretched hand drooped a bit, seeing the threat of a cave troll gnashing and snarling at her was only Raelyn once the veil of her dreams had fallen away. The feeling of being tired still weighed heavy on her bones though, and it was for this reason that she frowned in annoyance, especially so as Raelyn got her bloody spittle near where she slept. "If you aren't being chased by bandits wanting to rape your corpse, then this is no emergency worthy of waking me."

She curled tighter under her blanket, waiting for Raelyn to inevitably continue speaking instead of respecting her right to sleep.

Raelyn stumbled forward, falling down onto the edge of Solveigs bed, "The Argonians, they robbed me. I managed to get away before they did the second part of your colorful statement, but I can't just..." she breathed in deep, "I can't let them get away with it. It's a sentimental item."

Solveig sat up on her arse, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before slowly getting up. Her knees and back popped and creaked in protest as she rolled her shoulders. Donning her mail and bear's head helm, and grasping up her seax, shield and spear, she stepped outside of her tent. A lungful of the cold, salty air did nothing to wake her. "Where are they?" She asked after the Argonians that she was going to maim or kill as if they were but dropped coin. "And what is it that they took that you just can't bear to forget and move on?"

Raelyn followed after hastily, cringing at the pain still flooding the back of her head, "My lute and a talisman given to me by my brother, Articus. They're currently in their off-site camp, if I had to guess." She added, quickly, "It sounds stupid when said out loud, but believe me, I need both back." She said, even more rapidly, "Look, I will do anything if you help me with this."

"And what favors could you possibly fulfill for me that would make risking my life worth it?" She said, although she remained walking towards the Argonian Camp, nonetheless.

"Your father." she said, with a firmness in her voice that was uncommon to her native flouncy tone, "I will find him for you."

Solveig stopped in her tracks, ceasing all movement down to her breathing. She turned around, revealing a face devoid of all humor. Through frowning lips came a dry and humorless lone bark of a laugh. "And how?" Her eyes narrowed to slits.

Raelyn deftly pulled back her left sleeve, revealing that in the inner lining was a a symbol of a diamond, with three spikes crossing an eye, over a red background. "I will send a letter to this organization. Within two days, maybe less if anyone is nearby, several agents of this organization will begin asking questions. These questions will lead to leads. The final and most important question will lead directly to your father. They will kill anything that gets between them and him. He will appear at your place of residence, be it at sea or land, haggard, but alive."

"You?" She took a step back, looking Raelyn head to toe and back again, "You? A spy?" She didn't expect her to be a spy, but wasn't that the point? The uncharacteristic firmness in Raelyn's voice told her there were no lies in her words. They were perhaps the truest she'd ever heard, it felt. "What..." She trailed off, weighing time in jail or death against seeing her father alive, or at all, "...What would you have me do to these Argonians?"

She re-adjusted her sleeves, thus hiding the symbol of the Penitus Oculatus."Whatever comes naturally. The important thing is that lute and that talisman are back in my hands." She cracked her knuckles, "Make sure I don't get stabbed in the back, if you will."

"A Shield-Sister is good for that." Solveig nodded. They came upon the Argonian Camp and Solveig stopped at its edges. Four of what she assumed were youths were huddled around a fire, drinking and rifling through purses and packs they'd no doubt stolen. Among that camp, among some other group of youths, were Raelyn's things. "You can ask them if you want. I'll be there to bleed them."

Raelyn nodded, mentally preparing a character in her mind. She imagined a woman, begging, pleading with the men who had robbed her. She considered the kinds of poses the woman might perform. What would she feel? Desperation. She slackened her shoulders and forced herself to cry a tear by thinking of her brother.

She approached the hooligans who had robbed her, timidly. She spoke in a soft voice, "Sirs." One of the Argonians shot up, glaring at Raelyn. "What do you want wench?"

Another piped in, "I think it's the one we robbed."

Raelyn started sobbing, "I've come back because...that lute and talisman were given to me by me grandfather." she said, adopting an extremely rural accent, "And they hold sentimental value to me. I came here to buy them back." She produced a pouch of coin, worth about 150 septims. "I begged about and dug into my bread fund, but..."

The closest Argonian snatched the pouch. He laughed, "Why, thanks for the coin miss. Why should we bother to give you your property?"

"Because, it'll be your head I'm wearing instead of this bear's." Solveig sauntered up, seemingly without a care and cast a glance across the gathering of lizards before her. She could see it in their eyes- or a lack of it. A lack of what she saw in Rorik Four-Faces, or Folki Pierce-Neck, as they stepped into the Circle with her. A will to see violence through to its ultimate end. "A fair exchange, ain't it? Coin for your things there."

The closest Argonian, apparently the lead by mob vote, hesitated, "I mean, I could..." another Argonian placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. "Right." the lead Argonian said. "Fuck it, take your things. They aren't worth shit anyways." he grabbed the lute and medallion from the fire and roughly chucked them to Raelyn, who by her credit acted like she was surprised by this action, barely catching them.

Raelyn said, "Thank you, I will pray to Stendarr of your fortunes!"

She hurried off, looking over her shoulder as if nervous, followed by Solveig. Solveig could not help but to look back at the Argonians watching them leave. An odd and worrying pull to turn back around was shaken from her mind as she sped up her pace to catch back up with Raelyn. "So, this letter..." She shook her head, "Will it work? How does it work?"

Raelyns turned back to the serious demeanor of someone who dealt with issues that concerned her country said, "I will contact my commander, who will ask every investigator under his command to look for your father. He will ask other commanders to ask their investigators to look for your father. Eventually, I hope, one investigator will confirm his location. Then, a group of Inspectors, also known as Spectres, will search the likely area for him. Alive or dead." She looked to Solveig, frowning, "I'm sure he will be fine. The Armigers haven't killed their prisoners."

"It is not the Armigers I am worried about." Her tongue flicked across the notch in her lip, a constant and everlasting reminder of what the Kamal had almost done to her. She shook her head, "The ways of spies are beyond me. I will leave the uncovering of my father's fate to you. It's out of my hands."

After a time, letting the sound of their footsteps and her breathing fill the silence between them, Solveig spoke up, "Who are you? What are you?" She asked, "The bumbling bard getting drunk in the tavern, the bloodied woman in those Dwemer ruins... She is nowhere to be found in the eyes of who I'm with now."

Raelyn laughed, heartily and sincerely, "I'm both not and all of those things. It is easier to act with some truth to yourself. I was sincerely panicked about dying in the dwemer ruins. I was actually drunk in the tavern and my opinions on Gordos music were true. I am an Imperial citizen, loyal to the end." She frowned, looking Solveig in the eyes, "I act...less directed, than I am. I know what I want. I want the Empire to succeed. I want to help its citizens, even going against the White-Gold Concordat. I sincerely appreciate your help in the Dwemer ruins. I..." she frowned, "I don't know even if what I'm doing now is enough. You saved me from death. For that, I will do anything."

Solveig could not help but to look inquisitively at the Imperial woman before her. It was as if the bumbling damsel had melted away and been replaced by whoever this was overnight. To be honest, she was almost a little disappointed in the revelation Raelyn was not all she seemed. "I'd no idea there was so much to you." She let out an amused huff through her nostrils, "But that is the point of a spy, I'd think."

Raelyn walked over and threw an arm over Solveigs shoulder, "You know, I've taken to it that the point of a spy is to pierce, through wit and patience; lies and concealment. Why, I've heard it said..."

---

"HEY." Doomfist, the massive 8 foot tall muscle orc shouted at the top of his lungs, towards the ceiling where he thought his Kamal captors were hiding. "LET ME OUT. I KNOW WHERE MEAT IS. I STASHED A WHOLE BOX OF MEAT UNDER A WILLOW TREE OUTSIDE OF WINDHELM."

Zelzibel, a diminutive Bosmer in rags somehow worse for wear than Doomfists shit encrusted trousers, frantically added a human tooth to the mixture of piss, shit, one of her whole fingernails, and the hair of a wolf she had been brewing in her bucket toilet. She grinned, stirring the mixture with a tightly woven straw stick she'd made out of her own bed. "This!" she shouted. "Will allow me to break the bonds of the cell with my bare hands! You laughed, said I was crazy! But you'll see! You'll all see when I crawl out of here, shivving Kamal as I go! I will be the new Captain and I will sell you to all to the Dunmer!"

A guard's metal tankard slammed against the barred window of Doomfist and Zel's cell, "Would you two shut the fuck up?" He said from behind the door, not showing his face lest he catch spit or shit, or piss in the eye like the last guard who decided to peek inside. "I've been posted here for the last six hours and have had to listen to you loud pieces of- shit!"

A scuffle was heard behind the door, with almost-childlike chuckles coming from a voice so deep it sounded disturbing. "Fuck! Fuck, shit, Gods! Gods! Guards! Guar-gurgh!"

The dreadful snapping of bones was heard with a wheezing. Then the guard's head appeared in the barred window of Zel and Doomfist's cell, before leaning back and seemingly slamming itself so hard into the bars it dented the metal with the sound of the wet cracking of Dunmer skull and a harsh, hacking, disturbed laugh. The eyes had bulged out of their sockets and the guard's jaw was slack in his mutilated face, tongue lolling about before the guard crumpled to the ground. The next thing to happen was for the sound of the door's locks disengaging and the door swinging open. A tower of a man almost comparable to Doomfist in heighth and breadth with a great red beard and tangled mess of crimson cascading from his head stood in the doorway.

He took a step forward, a smile almost as mad as Zel's upon his bleeding lips as he knelt in front of Doomfist, "Do they deem you dangerous, green-skin?"

Doomfist nodded happily, rising to his feet, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "THEY CAUGHT ME BECAUSE I WAS USING A NORD GUARD AS A BATTERING RAM TO BREAK INTO THE BEER CELLAR OF CANDLEHEARTH. THE MAN BROKE TOO EASILY, SO I HAD TO USE A TABLE INSTEAD."

Zel stopped prying the teeth out of a human skeleton in the cell to dive towards the dunmer Jorwen had so favorably dropped into their cell. She lifted it by the hair and used her other hand to tear out one eye, dropping it into her mixture bucket and then, after a moments thought, removed the other eye and added it to the mixture.

"S'pose I don't have to waste the breath asking you, 'uh?" Jorwen said, looking upon the rat-like woman squatting over a macabre task. He took in the orc one last time and nodded, "You'll do."

Doomfist's shackles fell away from his wrists before Zel's arms were yanked from her task by Jorwen's boulders called fists and her own binds were removed. "Get the hells up. We're killing our way out of here."

Zel quickly ran to the dead guard, grabbed his tankard, and dipped it into the horrible, ill-advised concoction she had made. She laughed madly, screaming incoherently in Bosmeris, then drank the mixture, drop for drop. For a moment, it seemed that her muscles were actually growing. This quickly changed however, when her muscles began rippling, blood pouring from her pores, then her eyes, then her mouth. Her hair grew longer, then, when the worse seemed to have ended, she fell to the floor, vomiting blood. A black gem rolled out of her sleeves, shortly pulsating a faint light.

Doomfist grimaced, "IS...IS SHE DEAD? FINALLY?"

"Of fucking course." Jorwen grimaced at Zel's lifeless body, "I free it and it kills itself."

Doomfist said, excitedly, "OH THANK TRINIMAC. I CAN FINALLY SLEEP WITH MY TROUSERS OFF. I CAN WRITE MY BALLAD, DOOMFIST IS GREAT IN PEACE. I CAN-"

Zels body twitched.

Doomfist jerked back, screaming, "COVER YOUR EYES, SHE ALWAYS GOES FOR THE EYES!"

Zels body twitched again. Then, a white light entered her eyes for a moment and she spasmed. Her skin seemed to regain color, as if blood was being made at a rapid pace in her body. Her eyes opened, slowly. Then she shot onto all fours, growling. He growled first at Jorwen, then at Doomfist who was currently covering his eyes with his gigantic lion paw hands. Then she whimpered when Jorwen gave her a terrible look.

Zel sniffed at the air, her upper lip curling and letting go a growl before she sat back on her haunches and sprang from the room and down the halls. Jorwen watched her go, running his fingers through his beard, "What in all the hells..."

"You Are Your Avatar"

"TIME IS AT AN END." shouted a woman who's eyes were naught but embers. "YOU WILL KNOW WHEN THE ORANGE MAN LEADS. SEE THE WOMAN WHO IS A CUCKOLD OF THE POTENTATE OF LECHERY, SEE HER WEEP? RISE THE POWERS THAT ONCE WERE DEAD, THE BLOOD AND OIL OF THE HOLY BOOK. CAST WHITE FIGURES DANCING ABOUT TWO STICKS." She pointed a finger at everyone, "YOU WILL DO THESE THINGS BUT DO NOT SEE THEM COME. DEATH FOLLOWS IN YOUR FOOTSTEPS."

Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0

WHEN YOU CAN'T DELETE YOUR OWN POSTS - SNIP

What Are You Listening To?

OH OH, OH OHHHHHH

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

And on a more cheerful note: dual wielding is now making it's debut as a combat skill.

Edit: also added Kothringi as an extinct language, and imga whispering as wildlife communication.

@Gcold

Hold on, making a duel wielding samurai who uses alteration spells to make his reaction speed really fast so he can cut arrows out of the air.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Sometime before Raelyn murdered a man.

---

Raelyn walked through the Argonian camp, casually ignoring Argonians begging for food or coin, deftly dodging the odd Argonian who attempted to actually reach for her coin purse, and generally acting like the camp held no walls to her. She couldn't remember the last time she took a wall, border, or law seriously. She had come there to seek assistance in what she referred to as her "Operation", but hadn't found anyone suited to the task of assault and thievery. She'd played a game of cards and had, in circumstances surprising to even herself, managed to win in a hand of cards the actual cards themselves. While she would have rather had the gold, the thought of actually taking the card game was so funny to her she let the gold slide. That and the Argonians were in dire straits enough without her taking all their money. Now, owner of an entire deck of cards, which she wasn't quite sure what to do with. She couldn't pawn the deck, as it was worth nothing but her own amusement. She could attempt to gamble her way into the townsfolks gold, but she'd felt that tricking these poor goat herders and trowel shufflers out of their hard earned coin days before was somewhat mean spirited, if funny. So this left the obvious option: actually play cards with some of the people in the mercenary company and gamble her way into their purses. Or just talk to them, nothing hurt from making a few more allies in this mercenary company. It had saved her life earlier, hadn't it?

There he was, that Khajiit pacifist who she kept confusing her with his damned shapely ass and suggestively agile movements, Do'Karth. She approached him, who didn't seem to be doing anything of importance and seemed to be walking off to do something that was. Not on her watch! In one swift movement, she sidestepped around and appeared directly in front of him, holding five cards between her fingers by slightly bending them. "Do you play cards?" she asked, grinning.

Things happened quickly; one moment, Do'Karth was lamenting the loss of his friend and needing to clear his mind, and the next Raelyn, the bard that had joined the company for reasons he could only guess at was suddenly standing before him, a disarmingly sudden appearance from someone that he had not spoken to before. After the encounter with Leif, Do'Karth was somewhat on edge about people approaching him unwarranted. He blinked slowly at her inquiry, to his recollection, it was something he hadn't been asked since his time in Hammerfell. "Uh... it has been a few years?" he responded tepidly, not exactly sure what to make of the situation or how long it had been. Was there an ulterior motive to the question? Someone didn't survive as a mercenary if the only skill they had was singing, and Raelyn seemed to be a bit too sly for his tastes. "Depends on the game, Do'Karth thinks." he looked around to see if there was anyone else waiting on Raelyn. There wasn't. "Look, now really isn't-"

Raelyn put up one hand and said over him, "No, no, I understand. After a hard day breaking every bone in Leifs body, I too might also need some time to think about my actions." Though from Leif's reputation, Raelyn could only guess that her thoughts would be something along the lines of how could she do it again. She smoothly re-aligned the cards held in her hand back into a deck she somehow produced out of Do'Karth's sight. This she stuffed into her furred vest. She threw her other hand to her breast, lowering her head obsequiously, "I feel for you, I do, but would silent contemplation really help your loss?" She moved the hand on her breast to a gesture more indicating pointing to herself, "I myself have found that drink, companionship, and a game of chance much better at easing woes than the dim lit corners of an inn!" She paused, then added, "That and I have nothing better to do. Do you?"

"This one was trying to find a weapon vendor." Do'Karth explained, exhaling slowly through his nose, knowing he was in a situation where no wasn't going to be an option. Rubbing the back of his head and looking around for a possible escape but seeing none, he resigned himself. "Fine, a game or two. Where to?" he asked.

Raelyn's grin widened, radiating an uncanny amount of good cheer, "Why, what other place than the Inn?" She gestured to the establishment itself. "If you have anyone else you'd like to drag along, feel free to bring them as well, though I do have another player. Are you familiar with a man named Weasel Strand? She slipped to Do'Karths side in a surprisingly quick movement, put one hand gently to his back, and nudged him along, "Not his maiden name, of course, though I'm sure if you saw him you'd understand why he has the moniker. He tells me he's a fisherman, which seems like a likely sort of work until you consider he's more often near the shore than the port. Men and their mysteries!"

"This one does know anyone who plays cards." Do'Karth shrugged, looking over at the woman when she mentioned a 'Weasel Strand'. People with aliases always had something to hide, it was something he knew full from personal experience. He allowed himself to be gently pushed along, listening to Raelyn explain the details about this Weasel individual, which he decided to take with a grain of salt. Although, he bad could a fisherman be... if he actually was one. Raelyn did an adequate job of shining doubt on even that.

They reached the inn in short order, the establishment reeking of spilled liquors and the body odour of far too many individuals, prompting the Khajiit to wrinkle his overly sensitive snout. It was what found the refuge from the blizzard that saved the Windhelm refugees, albeit with Falmer entanglements, but at least you could fight Falmer. The weather was a less tangible thing to battle. He'd heard stories of how the Dovahkiin was once able to clear the skies with his voice alone; what a marvelous talent that would be!

Finding an unoccupied table, a rarity in itself, Do'Karth and Raelyn took a seat. "So, where is this Weasel of yours?" the Khajiit inquired, drumming his claws in sequence across the hardwood table.

Raelyn smiled, "Oh, he always seems to pop up-" and suddenly Weasel was behind her, saying in a voice that was comically shady and reeked of trustworthiness, "When you least expect me, yes." Raelyn had almost jumped out of her seat with surprise.

He put both hands on the back of her chair, leaning close to her ear, "What made you decide on keeping a house cat?" He gave Do'Karth a leer.

Raelyn said, "This is the man that broke every bone in Leifs body, or so I've heard."

Weasel froze and looked to Do'Karth like he had seem him for the first time. He stood up straight then followed with what he probably thought was a respectful bow but seemed more like he was going to throw his back out. He gave a mockery of a sophisticated accent, which through his slimy growl just sounded ridiculous, "I must apologize for my previous statement." He said in a tone that indicated that not only was he not sorry, but he'd do it again behind Do'Karths back. "If I knew I was speaking to a damned hero, I'd have had the decency of bringing you up to a lion!" He said, with an almost painful lack of sincerity.

Raelyn was happy with this outcome. She had been worried to speak to this man as she suspected he was a liar, which he certainly was, and now having Do'Karth along brought certain assurances. She now knew, if Weasel were to try to hurt her, Do'Karth would maybe not kill him but leave him in such a state that he would wish he were dead. On the side, she suspected Weasel would play bad hands and be generous with his money when they played cards, if only to not piss off Do'Karth. She wasn't entirely sure the man might not betray her and play an actually good hand, which was incompatible with her goal of fleecing people for money. Now that she thought of it, she was certain that Do'Karth would be easy to push into most situations. I mean, she'd barely had to wheedle to get him to come somewhere he clearly didn't want to be. Today was going to be great!

"There is nothing to apologize for." Do'Karth replied dismissively, glancing at Raelyn. Something told the Khajiit that she wanted him here for something more than a game of cards. Had news of his duel spread so quickly? Do'Karth didn't fancy himself as an enforcer for someone he barely knew. Still, it helped to know exactly what he'd unwittingly found himself in. "And how do you two know one another? Is this one amiss in noting that there is a certain tension between you?"

Weasel snorted and sat down, "She suddenly appeared when me and my fishermen boys were in that Argonian camp. You know, to ask for fishing advice. Cause they're lizards."

Raelyn giggled, "Yes, swamps are a known hot spot for fishing." She smoothly began to divide the deck of cards between the players, in a series of hand movements so effortless and quick it was clear she had dealt cards often.

Weasel looked at his cards, holding them in front of his face like a fan, "Yeah, then she asks if she could buy some fish. I tell her I already sold all the fish today, but we could bring her along to catch some next time we went to sea."

Tornn was known to Raelyn as a man who was found dead floating by the docks, after having agreed to travel along as a fisherman with Weasel. She suspected foul play, but the man was drowned with no sign of stab wounds or mystical artifice.

She said, flicking the cards towards Do'Karth with alarming speed, "I sadly had to decline the offer, as a proud member of Ashav's illustrious and fine reputed mercenary company, I couldn't give them the time of an entire fishing trip. That and many men find the smell of fish repugnant, so no."

The Khajiit snatched the cards in a deft flick of his own hands, keeping pace with the young woman. "This one has found ships and boats and just the ocean in general to be a terribly inhospitable place. It is rather remarkable that people make a living off of it. Do'Karth has never spoken at length to more than the two Argonians in the company on a rare occasion, so he will have to take you at your word in regards to their fishing prowess." He said, looking at the hand he was dealt. "What game are we playing?" he asked, realizing that the introductions had left little time for rules or format.

Raelyn grinned, holding her cards, "Mudcrab Sling. It's fairly easy to play. The trick is to lay down the highest hand. Barring that, just lay down card hands until you figure out which ones are highest! There's also a round of betting before this. Usually septims, sometimes personal affects. Like maybe one of your fishes, Weasel!"

Weasel narrowed his eyes, not sure if fishermen just carried around fish. "Yes. Like one of my fish."

Raelyn turned her head, looking at Do'Karth like she was trying to stare through him. "I'm going to bet my hat!" she removed the foppish article from her head.

"Do'Karth is not betting clothing. This is not going to be one of those games." he said, pulling a pair of coins from a pouch and tossing them carelessly on the table. He wasn't exactly enthused with his hand, but it certainly wasn't the worst.

"It's a hat, not my leggings Do'Karth. Unless Khajiit have a thing for hair?" She leaned in, with curiosity, "Do they?" Raelyn looked at her hand with the same loose smile she kept on pretty much all the time. Internally, she was swearing like a sailor. She was pretty sure she was going to lose her hat. She said, "I'll fold."

Weasel said, following directly after Raelyn, "Fold." His gave one glance to Do'Karth before quickly flicking away.

With a shrug, Do'Karth laid out his cards on the table. Considering it was the only hand left in play, it won by default. "We are covered in hair, so yes; smooth skin is peculiar. You may keep your hat, if you wish. It isn't Do'Karth's style." he said, offering a palm for reshuffling all of the cards. He looked quizzically at Weasel. "You felt your hand wasn't worth playing?" he asked. Something definitely was going on that he was barely picking up on, but what?

Raelyn retrieved her hat, saying "Very charitable of you! I'll consider it a donation to the arts" she turned her head to look towards Weasel.

Weasel took this as a significant look and said, "Yeah, had two jester. Can't make anything out of two jester. I owe you a fish, by the way."

Raelyn added another card to the middle of the table, changing what cards could be dealt, and laid down about fifty septims. Weasel in turn, set down about twenty five, less willing to give away any amount even for a higher turnout.

Looking at the pot on the table, Do'Karth set his cards down. "This one cannot play for those stakes. He needs his coin for other purposes... mercenary pay is not all that alluring." he said with an apologetic smile, drumming his fingers once more and looking for a polite way to excuse himself from the situation. He promised Sevine he'd buy her a new axe, and he sure wasn't in a hurry to waste what little earnings he had gambling with strangers.

Raelyn's smile twitched for but a moment. Her "scam Do'karth out of a large sum of money by pretending to be bad at cards" plan wasn't going as well as she planned today. She blamed Weasel for being incredibly bad at lying.

"Well." she said, "How about I add another say, fifty septims to the pot. That leaves us at one hundred-and twenty five. Then you can bet a favor." She grinned.

The Khajiit glared at her. "Vague and suspicious favours in exchange for a fortnight's worth of pay? How alluring." He replied dryly. "And what would that be, exactly?"

"Generally the idea of a favor is I can ask you for just about anything later, though if specific details make you feel better, how about showing up for the murder investigation for Vurwe Highorin that's going to occur tomorrow? That is, unless you really want to head to whatever battlefield Ashav is going to ask you to kill in."

It wasn't an unreasonable request. If he won the hand, he'd be able to afford a nicer axe. If he didn't, well... he would have to reconsider putting in for a transfer to another assignment. He'd have to talk to Sevine about having her request not heading out to sea again on account of her injuries. "That is not unreasonable. Do'Karth does not wish to become a thug or indebted into something that goes against his morals, you understand." Picking up his cards once more, laid face down as to not reveal the hand until the others were played, he said, "This one accepts."

Raelyn laughed, "Don't worry, I'm a very moral woman." She laid her cards down in the open.

Weasel looked to her and did the same. His hand was actually awful, only able to win in the most lenient of circumstances

Should have went with your gut, Do'Karth. the Khajiit thought, setting his cards down face-up. Raelyn's hand was one of the most uncommon and valuable in Mudcrab Sling, and as such only two other hands could have feasibly beat it, neither of which were residing immediately before Do'Karth, his cards staring back at him mockingly. "Unfortunate." He'd remarked, tossing his hands up in mock surrender. "This one owes you that favour, he supposes. He trusts it will not be a malicious one."

Raelyn slapped her palm on the the table in a merry fashion, "Oh, nothing malicious has ever occurred from some circumstance of fate leaving someone in the middle of something they hadn't expected. There's the Hero of Kvatch, disappeared into some part of Oblivion I believe, The Nevarine, supposedly who is sending all those Kamals after us, and the Dovahkin who..." Raelyn paused. "Well, as far as I'm aware, they were all benevolent and lived long and fulfilling lives. So much so, two of them convinced armies to fight for them in battle! I don't know what the Hero of Kvatch does. Plays dice with Sanguine, maybe."

The claws continued to rap upon the tabletop. "Do'Karth does not see how his situation compares to legendary figures. The Gods obviously had some hand in their success, they don't meddle in the affairs of your typical person. If that were the case, this one could solve this Kamal crisis with the flick of his staff and send them all back to Akavir and have a giant statue erected in his honour. Likewise, they won't prevent you from trying to call in a favour that is... less than reputable. Do'Karth understands the Gods. You, less so."

Raelyn waved her hand dismissively, "Think of it as a mystery! Even I don't know what will happen. That's the fun part!" She tipped her chair back, arms behind her head, her feet against the table the only thing keeping her upright, "Maybe you can bring Sevine along, convince her to show you her mysteries. I heard solving a murder often leads to that sort of thing!" She pushed her chair back into rest position, then leaned forward, "And, well, maybe you'll learn more about me."

That prompted a bashful response as the Khajiit looked away, embarrassed. "This one wouldn't know. And what would Do'Karth possibly need to know about you? He barely knows you, and so far it hasn't lead to any curiosity. If this one were to peel the onion that is you, he does not think he'll like what he finds."

Raelyn smiled wryly, "You wouldn't find anything too important! Anyway, I enjoy my privacy." Though her enjoyment of privacy often didn't extend outside of a bedchamber. "You know, I'm sure we'll get along splendidly."

Weasel chimed in, "I'm still here you kno-" Raelyn leaned towards him and put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh, later."

Raelyn continued, gesturing to the cards on the table, "In either case, the cards have been dealt and fate smiles on both of us, I think!" Though that would be hard to tell, death tended to beam his tombstone teeth where he wasn't wanted.

"We shall see, Do'Karth supposes." he replied non-noncommittally. Normally, he was quite keen on giving people the benefit of the doubt and to overlook their peculiarities, but something about the entire past fifteen or twenty minutes gave the Khajiit a sense of foreboding usually reserved for sailing. Setting his cards down, he stood from the table. "Thank you for the game, but this one has errands he needs to run still before the vendors close up the shop." Looking to Weasel, he glanced back at Raelyn. "Will you two be fine in one another's company?"

Raelyn nodded, "Oh yes, Weasel and I will be getting along great." She looked to Weasel in a significant manner while pulling the gold towards herself, "I'm sure with what we've earned today, we could have quite an evening, couldn't we?"

Weasel looked from Raelyn, to Do'Karth, then back to Raelyn who was now giving him a look that suggested he said yes. He grunted in affirmation.

It was good enough for the Khajiit; if Weasel lived up to his name sake and tried anything in a crowded tavern, there were more than enough people to put him in his place, and Do'Karth suspected that Raelyn was the kind of woman who came more than prepared for any situation. He had a sinking feeling the evening's events went exactly as she planned them, which sat rather uneasily with him. "Well, allow this one to wish you both a pleasant evening. Until we meet again." he said, slightly bowing before turning and heading towards the door, to freedom. He wasn't entirely sure what he was leaving behind, but the idea of cards no longer held an appeal. If anything, it gave him something more than the war to worry about. Between Leif, that new Khajiit, and now Raelyn, tonight was not going according to plan. With a sigh, Do'Karth refastened his budi and headed towards the makeshift market in hopes of finally finding that damned axe. Suddenly, such a simple task seemed almost as daunting as fighting the Kamal. With a soured mood, Do'Karth pressed forward, not daring make eye contact with anyone else, lest they too have something else in store for him.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

I should mention I updated Raelyns character sheet a few days ago, with more information regarding her employment in the Penitus Oculatus.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Chrononaut Maybe they all end up doing a card game or something that puts them in one place before being shipped off.

@Dervish

Have to entertain yourself somehow in this Aedra forsaken snow pit. Especially after a hard day punching Leif in his Gaston-like face.

public.etherpad-mozilla.org/p/58S7xCtdE0



@Hank