DearTrickster

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Maj will help Ariane with collecting jellyfish, casting nets and tying them off. She’ll attempt to summon a frost atronach to protect their backs while they work.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

<Snipped quote by DearTrickster>

Shouldn't there be 25 (or 24 with a free center space) for a bingo card? ;)

@Dedonus

You have to get those five things in a row or single post to call BINGO, Ded. There's no cheatin'

Honestly given enough thought I could probably fill up a 24 slot bingo card with Odette and the shit she does.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Ambassador Bingo Sheet
If an Ambassador posts has all five of these things, it is Bingo

1. Parisian Tourist Spot
2. She Opens a Portal
3. Odette Patronizes Someone or Makes an Ominous Threat
4. Fey Shenanigans
5. Affectionately regards Mandate

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{"If I could buy forever at a price, I would buy it twice."}

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Time: Afternoon - Day of the Satellite Attack
Location: Paris, France

The darkness of a stretching afternoon sunlight glowed over the statues of Sculpture garden of Musée Rodin. The Ambassador was called to the gardens to meet with one of the quieter creatures of Paris. Animals of various species found their homes in the ponds - toads most predominantly. Quite naturally they were all once human themselves, retaining some of their intelligence to avoid growing into pests. They watched from the water with the very same globulous eyes, silently pleading for help. The Ambassador had no control over the Fairy Lioness, simply gave her a quiet tourist destination. Luring the odd hapless human who may have disrespected the gardens, they now lived out their punishment and shortened lives as toads. If they lived out their lives they were among the lucky, the Lioness loved to save them for meals.

Of course, Bach followed at her side. Astutely eyes front and not paying much attention to the statues around them. His presence the least offensive but still so strongly associated with his mortal companion he was expected to show the same respect.

She walked with purpose today to see the very same spirit. Her long white romantic tutu style dress moved with her, a black heart shaped top with a large floppy yellow hat sat upon her head. A beautiful raw piece of amber hung at her neck on a gold necklace. She scanned along the statues knowing where the Lioness loved to hide. As she moved past a shadow imitating one of Rodin’s statues moved from the pose and followed The Ambassador.

She continued to walk finding her way down a rather unbeaten path, where grass grew more wild and she was barely within sight of the museum itself. Finally then did the Lioness reveal herself.

Her shadow gathered before the Ambassador, her head came first rising from the long shadow casted by The Ambassador, she towered above the likes of Odette. She was well over seven feet tall, draped in the skin of a lion. It’s jaw hung past the woman’s face casting it in shadow, her chin was dirty with bits of meat and dried blood. She neither smiled nor snarled. Her eyes averted, her hands clutched at the pelt covering herself shyly to remain somewhat modest. Native to France and among the wild spirits that did not approve of such meetings. She was rather happy to be left alone. Another family, light eating Sylphs wished for her presence down in the catacombs to hunt, they needed the glassy lenses of the rats, but they did not feel comfortable entering her den even as requests of favour.

The Sylphs liked playing with fractions of light, manipulating it through the lense of an animal’s eyeball or if they were lucky, a human’s. Unfortunately for them they weren’t proficient hunters. Odette didn’t inquire further but they asked for her to go on their behalf in exchange for a Soul Cleanse. A valuable little gift to lift veils, curses and hexes placed on the soul. Odette considered it would be useful in her work waiting with the White Witch. It sat as the crowning pearl on a circlet made of bones. Macabre as it could be.

The Fairy Lioness kept her eyes averted but was well aware of where The Ambassador’s attention was. One of the few faeries that did not pay favour to her for staying in Paris. She knew of The Ambassador’s protections, whispers told her of a mighty golem nowhere to be seen. The Lioness shifted on her feet, gripping her pelt.

“Mighty Lioness. I am here on behalf of the Catacomb Sylphs. They seek out your help in hunting for animal eyeballs. They are willing to meet in the Notre Dame’s bell tower to discuss terms. Neutral ground.” The Ambassador began in Common Fey, staying still and not taking her eyes away from the Fairy Lioness. “I am simply a messenger.”

“Messenger, they did not have the courage to see me Ambassador? They send our Mistress. We have only met this once.” She shifted a bit closer closing the gap of personal space, Odette could smell the foul sour odor of her body. She appeared human but the way she walked was too strange. She spoke quickly, quietly, with no accent. “You smell strange, perfumed and soft. They do not have a daughter to feed me instead?”

Odette shook her head, “Whatever terms they have to offer they did not inform me. They simply hoped the chance of a hunt would be incentive to meet with them.”

The Lioness considered that, shifting again. “What- what do you have to offer me for my time? I have plenty to hunt here. I see no reason to trust the word of a soft, clean human. I would as easily eat you.”

“If you are hungry then that is all you needed to say.” She knew what she had to do to get the Lioness to comply. Odette stepped away from the Lioness, going to the pond just beyond where they were speaking. She stopped at the edge, seeing toads by the dozens swimming, eyes were directly on The Ambassador. She raised her hand, blue mist coating falling gently into the pond. The toads darted at the sight but she caught one straggler. Pulling it up out of the water levitating between her hands, immobilized. She thought briefly of how Mandate would have enjoyed seeing what was to happen next.

Odette reversed the curse, the toad grew back into a human woman. She was terrified staring at Odette, pleading to be free.

Still levitating, she brought the woman back before the Lioness. She made eye contact with Odette, feeling a certain dread plucking at her will. The Lioness croaked, “You would so easily offer one of your own people to me?”

“What is she to me when you are hungry? She would have lived out the remainder of her life as a toad, now she has the honour of sustaining you.” She replied, cold in her offering. “Or does she not please you?”

The Lioness considered, averting her gaze once again. “You speak well, I accept. Lay her upon the ground.”

The woman whimpered, tears streaming down into her hair. Gently Odette placed her into the soft grass taking a few steps away. “I will speak with the Sylphs on one more condition, Ambassador.”

Odette waited. Watching the Lioness huddle over her meal.

“You are to watch while I eat. If it such an honour to provide my meal, you shall watch as my honourable guest.” She said locking Odette in her spot, unable to refuse. She grinned making eye contact once more, the full weight of the Lioness’ dreadful gaze upon Odette once again.

The Ambassador sighed, nodding. Bach sighed as well. “Very well.”

The Lioness tore into her meal, The Ambassador muffled the painful noise to their vicinity. While the Lioness was vicious she was not quick, hoping to get a reaction from the human mortal watching the gore with disinterest. Prodding for weakness as many have tried to do before, the fey native to Paris often were upfront with their distaste of The Ambassador’s mortality and her Sight. If she was to see, she was to watch.

It was well past an hour by the time the Lioness stood back up from her meal. She was covered in blood down the length of her body, no longer attempting to hide it with her pelt. The pelt itself seemed to brighten with life, fur standing on end, dull eyes watching Odette now where the Lioness averted her own. The mess she left behind was unrecognizable, the Lioness plucked the eyes from the dead woman’s skull and offered them.

“A guarantee for the Sylphs. I will meet them at dawn.”

Unflinchingly Odette gathered the eyes into her hand, passing them to Bach. They disappeared into his breast pocket inside his jacket. “I will relay the message. Good night, Lioness.”

The Lioness seeped back into her shadows, bright eyes followed The Ambassador - watching her exit the gardens. When the Ambassador was clear from watching eyes, they walked a short ways stopping into a cafe, Bach shifted his appearance - coming to appear as human. His horns and leaves disappeared, his eyes brightened from yellow to white with green iris. His suit trimmed to a tweed gray suit with a green tie, a small little cheeky green rose at his lapel. She sat easily ordering a cold drinks. Bach joined her, visible to the naked eye.

She slipped into French, “Truly, what a waste of time. Making me watch her eat, hmph.”

Bach shrugged, “It is in her nature to challenge. I am surprised you did not protest.”

“I seem to be surprising you a lot as of late.” She commented pointedly, shortly the waitress placed the iced coffees before them shyly blushing away from Bach’s heavy gaze. “I wasn’t in a position to complain. She named me a guest.”

“Butting heads, you mean.” He replied with a wryly grin. “Something has been on your mind, I know that much. This business with the Americans has shifted your priorities some. Shifted from what I usually understand of your wants.” Turning to a serious note, “Tell me, My Lady.”

She crossed her legs, looking out the window. “I am focused, I have a goal in mind and now more than ever does the prophecy really mean nothing to me. I don’t care if he was sincere or not.” She emphasized, meaning Puck. Bach relaxed at her disregard, perhaps finally able to put thoughts of it behind her. “I have always understood what we have now Bach, is not forever. My power will peak and then it will wane.”

He inclined his head, “True, but you are young and full of vitality. My Lady you have done what many thought was impossible. You’ve secured true power.” He argued. “I couldn’t be more proud.”

She was unconvinced. Losing patience she swiped her hand, blue light spreading quickly on the back of a few Words of Power, deafening the patrons in the cafe from their conversation. Growing sick of tip toeing around her words.

“There is no security! All the Fey I have control over will outlive me by lifetimes, yourself included Bach. It does not matter how much power I have right now, the likes of lowly spirits such as the Lioness will keep pushing their boundaries with me.” She snapped, removing her hat she placed it on the table. She sipped her coffee, calming down. “We butt heads because now more than ever what connections I have are important, maintaining my connection to my humanity and all it entails. I need them as I need you. It is frustrating how it is seen as a weakness but provides a source of strength, a grounding.”

He conceded, “We are as one.” Quietly adding, in a twinge of envy. “I am all you truly need.”

She leaned across the table taking his hands in hers. “You say they are dangerous.”

He bowed his head to their hands, frustrated as he was. “We operate better keeping our allies in the dark. Why you gave such access to Mandate and Silence, is beyond me. Now you are on the brink with White Witch.” He looked up, “Who is next? Forge? The closer they are - who is to say they will not be targeted by our rivals. Do you truly want a repeat of Thomas?” He said gripping her hands, “Titania is only the start of rivalries. She wants to stamp you out swiftly in an all consuming war if properly provoked.”

She averted her eyes, emotion welling up from the pits of her stomach at Thomas’ name. Uncontrollable. “Swiftly. She would not dream of such a tactic if I wasn’t mortal.” Odette insisted, not dwelling.

Understanding dawning on him. “You want immortality? We have discussed it before-”

She cut him off, “An apprentice would not be able to carry on my legacy. I am the only one suited for this work. The Fey need to have a stronger foothold here, not just in Paris. I need to see through building more permanent portals, more connections, more power and that ultimately takes time.”

“...Like Gwyneth?” He asked, guarding his expression. He withdrew his hands.

She shook her head, “After having some time to think of her life, I find myself admiring her. The sheer resolve, strength, and intellect it must have taken to attempt an immortality spell on her own. Storing shards of herself amongst her treasured items in a moment of surprise, able to exert control of illusionary worlds thereafter…” Odette said warmly, remembering her meeting with the witch. “I can only hope that my abilities grow to be strong as hers.” She squeezed his hands. “I want to be me...I want…” She gazed into his eyes, “I want these attachments to stay with me for as long as I can.”

“Immortality would be a start.”

He stood leaning over the table planting a kiss on her forehead, “You will have it on our terms. I will… Restrain myself and trust you understand the consequences.” He said, the weight of his words not going unnoticed by Odette.

They drank their coffees in comfortable silence, both mulling over what they spoke of. The radio playing in the background stopped suddenly for breaking news. The Hounds of Humanity destroyed three American cities with blasts from a satellite. News tracked the sudden gathering of metahumans in Lost Haven, following live updates of the ongoing fight there. Odette looked to Bach, “I suppose the Hounds will no longer be our problem very soon. Here’s hoping they take a few of our enemies with them.”

“Where did you drop Mandate off again? Surely not Lost Haven.” He asked.

“Oh goodness, no. She is in New York. She was quite cagey on where she wanted to go. My guess was to see where she was born, wherever that may be.” She replied.

“What of the potion ingredients from Vegas?” Bach asked, “Can’t keep our favourite criminal waiting for his miracle.” He said sarcastically.

“Erik has the ingredients and his instructions.” Odette ignored his tone. “I will drop it off when it is done. Bach, we need to be on the same page now. We can’t keep butting heads, understood?”

“Yes, My Lady. We are clear.”

“Bien.”

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Introductions and Tall Tales

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_{A collab with @DearTrickster and @MacabreFox}

Solitude - 4th of Last Seed - Night

His mind was a whirlwind. Leif’s encounter with Sevine just moments ago tore at his heart. His feet carried him straight for the Winking Skeever. The night was young, and while the bottle of wine in his hand begged to be emptied, he could think of nothing else but what just transpired. Never before had he felt so lonely. Leif yearned to hold someone tight in his arms, to let out his anguish in pained tears. His chest rose and fell, his hands felt cold and clammy. He felt sick.

Leif pushed open the door to the inn, and stepped into the warmth of the tavern, patrons filled nearly every table, except for one near the window along the farthest wall. He made his way over to the table, where he sank into the wooden chair, his legs giving out from underneath him entirely. Some patrons glanced his way at the strange sight of a Nord man sitting alone that was bent doubled over, clutching at his head.

He gritted his teeth, grinding them as he covered his ears. It took several minutes for his racing heart to slow. Eventually he sat up, his eyes studying the wooden knotwork in the table.

One such patron was a visiting redguard woman, small in stature and finishing off the dregs of her dinner out of a bowl. Wiping her mouth she considered her tall tankard of mead, knowing full well she’d need to drink plenty more than her coin could cover in order to pass out for a few hours. Still, she stole a quick sip then pushed up from her table enough to wet her whistle. Having exhausted her stories earlier to other patrons she decided to approach the downtrodden Nord. Perhaps he’d be willing to listen, distract from his very apparent broken heart. It was apparent to anyone with eyes, some of those she sat with shook their heads at her.

Standing up from the chair, she grabbed her cloak and the mead. She draped her cloak behind the seat across from the Nord and put down the tankard of mead before him.

“Ahoy, mate! Drink up! Drown out that broken heart and listen up. Lend me your new ears and I’ll spin you a tale of danger!” Maj began with a hearty laugh, she fanned her hand out for dramatic effect. “ Excitement and reward await in my stories.”

She leaned against the chair with a big grin, “No need to mope by the window with good company about.”

“Whatta ya say?”

The woman before him caused Leif to release his head to look her over. He was puzzled at her approach, why would a woman of all people approach someone like him? His blue eyes blinked unsteadily at her, perhaps he could use the distraction from the bitter reality that consumed him.

“The seat is yours.” He said, his gaze shifting to the tankard.

“Good! I would be hard pressed to take no for an answer.” she replied. “Name’s Maj, Maj Noor by the by.” She dipped her head in greeting before taking her seat. “Expert conjurer and illusionist, former corsair mage turned mercenary. Try not to be too impressed.” She dusted off imaginary dirt from her sleeve. “What’s yours, friend?”

“Before you ask, the mead is safe. See?” She took another sip to prove it’s legitimacy. “Freshly poured from the casket.”

She made him smile, even though he didn’t think he could at a time like this, he couldn’t help but smile at this eccentric Redguard’s approach. On her insistence that the mead was safe, he accepted the fermented honey drink, overly sweet for his taste, but the warmth in the pit of his stomach was a welcoming one.

“Leif Raven-Stone. Former corsair, eh? I sailed on the Courtesan for eight years. Where did your travels take you?” He asked, surprised to have met another sailor, and a woman at that.

“Ah! A fellow sailor! Then I’m sure you’ll appreciate what I have to tell you. The ship I called home was named the Scarlet Harpy, a unique crew completely made up of women, with heavy emphasis on mages. We sailed all along the western coast of High Rock, Hammerfell, and as far south as Summerset and Cyrodiil. Proudly apart of the Republic.” Maj said, she was proud - ploughing by the past tense she used, Leif didn’t look the part to hear her troubles. “Good to meet you Leif Raven-Stone.”

He had a difficult time keeping pace with the rush of words coming out of her mouth, he did his best to keep that from showing on his face, however, a ship full of women, who would’ve thought?

“In fact, this is my first time in Skyrim, by the gods is it cold. I was warned too. Only a little upset this is my last night here in the frigid province before heading back to High Rock. The food is warm the drinks are delicious. Would visit again given the chance.” Maj said. “Where did the Courtesan sail?”

“You wouldn’t have enjoyed sailing aboard the Courtesan then,” he gave a soft chuckle, “Our ship carried goods across the Sea of Ghosts, sailed from Windhelm to Dawnstar, and from Dawnstar to here. If you’re not careful, the ice will freeze you in solid.” He swirled the pale amber liquid inside the tankard. Leif’s eyes rose to settle on Maj, studying the woman now that she sat across from him.

She had striking features, dazzling bright green eyes, a hooked nose that suited her face well. She had two scars, one on her brow, the other on her bottom lip, splitting the natural lines of her full lips. Her skin was dark, common for a Redguard, as was her hair, though she kept it off to the side.

“What has you headed for High Rock?” Perhaps the threat of the Kamal had frightened her enough to send her home.

“Aye, I reckon that’d be too cold for me.” She agreed with Leif, she was by no means accustomed to anything colder than Wayrest’s temperate winters. “I joined this mercenary company headed for the Rock tomorrow. Hoping to earn some decent wages, I’ve got some plans of my own but that is an entirely different story that would surely turn you blue.” She waved off that idea, she was happy to get even a small chuckle out of him. Not all hope was lost.

She couldn’t be… no… she had signed on with the company? Their company… the one he held a contract with, God’s no. Leif forced himself from admitting he too, was contracted with them. He wanted to enjoy the moment and not think about the possibility of seeing her die like so many others had.

She coughed into her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face. She picked up the candle at the table lifting it up for added effect. Summoning a little magicka in her hand, passing it through the flame. “So- my story tonight is the Wailing Stones of the Blue Divide. It’s a ghost story.”

Adding with a cheeky remark, “Let me know if you get too scared.”

He mustered a half smile, and waved a hand, “Enlighten me.” From the sound of it, he hadn’t heard this tale before.

“For some history, the tale of the Wailing Stones is a infamous shipwreck area. They protrude from the sea taller than you could see past the crow’s nest. Ships are mysteriously pulled into its waters and bashed-!” She slammed her fist on the table making the tankard shake spilling a few drops of mead. “-Against the rocks!”

Quietly she said, pulling the candle back up, “...Gone forever in one swift current.”

Her commotion drew some eyes, but their attention now was on the story she told, Leif’s own gaze fixated heavily upon her.

“On quiet nights when the waters are calm and the wind blows gently,” She blew gently on the flame of the candle. “If you sail near those stones you can hear the cries of previous shipwrecks. You hear them clear as if they’re standing right beside ya.” She was looking directly at Leif. “Mark my words, I’ve heard these ghostly cries for myself.”

“There ain’t no lie about it.” She said solemnly. “The first time I heard about it I called bullshit, ghosts don’t exist!”

“The night I heard them was after we plundered a uh-” She looked around at the largely Nord and Imperial crowd, catching eyes of a few argonians as well. “Aldmeri Dominion, wiley bastards were transporting some goods back to Summerset.”

That got her a nod or two of approval. She stood from her chair putting one foot on it and pointing at Leif. “Sweet fruit and fresh food in our bellies we decided to head back to Hammerfell. The twin moons were pale slivers, a cool fog rolled in behind us as we passed the stones catching sight of them. Our Captain not the superstitious sort, she gave the stones plenty of berth regardless.”

“I was starboard side, watching the dark stones as we passed. Strange shapes gave the base of the stones a sort of spiky silhouette.” She whispered behind a hand toward Leif, “Three guesses what the spiky bits were.”

She continued, “I squinted through the fog and suddenly felt like I was being watched.” Pausing as she looked at Leif then a few listeners.

She acted it out, looking confused as she turned about at her waist. “There was nobody around, everyone had been below decks or aloft keeping an eye out for trouble. I felt the hair on my arms raise up as if someone walked over my grave.”

“I backed away from the railing, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Something kept me there. That’s when I heard them…” She said trailing off, changing the tone of her voice to something withered, sad and desperate, “‘Please… Please! Help us… We are hungry… Cold… Lonely…!’ They pleaded, right into my ear.” She said. “Scared me half to death.”

Some listeners chuckled nervously, Leif as well. She had a knack for storytelling, as evidenced by the hair on his forearms standing on end. He rubbed his arms vigorously.

She resumed her ghostly voice, “‘Spare us, turn away, don’t draw near…’” She turned her back to the crowd feigning as if she was crying herself. “I couldn't take it! I ripped my gaze away to turn around.” In her hands she started up an illusion spell, she looked to Leif winking. The very fake ghostly visage appeared in front of her person. “When I did… A ghost stood right there!” She turned sharply around hopping up on the chair. “Dead as dead!” She appeared as a gruesome ghost with an axe buried in her head.

She startled a few, some gasped while others jumped out of their chairs. She chuckled good naturedly, snapping her fingers the illusion disappearing to reveal herself once more. “We sailed away and even when I fell asleep that night I dreamt of the voices.”

A smile crossed his lips as the tale came to an end, he drummed his fingers against the wooden table top, before letting out a long and slow whistle.

“You’ve got a knack for storytelling, lass. Ever think of it as a profession?” He enjoyed a good story, “

and Maj had certainly delivered with her eccentric theatrics, the illusion magic added a certain quality not often found amongst entertainers.

Relaxing a bit, Maj replied, “Thanks, there’s only so many times you can rehearse that one.”

“I’ve got better shit to do. I’ve got a few good stories in me but you won’t see me running over to the Bard’s College for lessons.” Maj sat again leaning into her chair. “It’s just for fun, presentation is two thirds of what it takes to be a corsair. You have to back it up of course and I do.”

She shrugged easily, “I’d rather earn my keep.”

“Fate is a fickle thing.” Leif sighed when she mentioned earning her keep, “The company you spoke of, I’m contracted with them as well.”

Her brows shot up, clearly surprised. “Why didn’t you say so? Not that it would effect the story… Tell me about what it’s been like. Gustav highlighted some of the exploits but never went into detail.” She asked.

“I wanted to forget… and listening to your story helped.” Leif shook his head before leaning back in his chair, raking his fingers through his long brown hair.

“We’ve lost so many. I don’t know how we’re all still alive either.” He racked his brain searching for the right words to say, because that was just it. There was just so much.

“Ask me what you want to know, that would be a better place to start.”

Turning to a serious note she asked, “These Kamal I keep hearing about. Ice giants, monsters out of stories. Are they true? Describe them to me.” Maj gave him a hard stare. “Don’t sugarcoat it. I want the truth.”

He nodded solemnly, “It’s all true. They’re the beasts of nightmare. Taller than any man, eight to ten feet tall. Terrifying creatures. They travel on ships made of metal, and they themselves wear seemingly impenetrable armor. Though they’re not all invincible, they do have a weakness towards fire. Fire salts, fire magic, anything with a flame can help kill them.”

Maj nodded, sitting back in her chair thinking. “I can conjure one mean flame atronach. Are their minds susceptible? Can we manipulate what they see and how they feel?” She paused. “Has anyone tried?”

“Not to my knowledge, no.” Leif shrugged, it was an interesting concept to say the least.

She tapped the table. “Are there other mages in the company? Mages that can bring the heat?”

“From the new recruits, and the old company combined, there’s one that comes to mind. Niernen Venim. Dunmeri lass that comes from Morrowind. Other than that, the rest of us are your typical grunts, foot soldiers, sellswords and the like. There are a few other mages, but none specialize in Destruction really. There’s Ariane, and Marcel, they both have a knack for mysticism. Don’t quite understand it myself. Tsleeixth, an Argonian, he can sling around some lightning. Other than that, it’s just restoration, alteration, conjuration and illusion I’ve seen used. Most of those who were skilled enough in destruction either left the company, died or are missing.” When he finished, he reflected on what he had just said. Most of the company didn’t have the fire they needed to handle the Kamal, but they had been creative nonetheless. Sevine and him had constructed the sling on top the wall back in Windhelm where they helped launch fire salts, and flaming pots of oil. Of course, that did little to slow the entire Kamal assault, but it did help in giving those on the frontline a chance to scamper back through the gates.

She nodded decisively. “Good. Good. I’ll be of use, if we can figure out how to crack their minds open like a melon we’ll have another advantage.” Not showing her fear in the slightest, Leif needed some hope as she was sure others did as well. Fresh blood to relieve the war weary. She gave herself more credit than that, while there were quiet and sweet moments aboard the Scarlet Harpy their livelihood was fighting and violence. If the vets in the mercenary company needed a breather she was more than happy to comply. Revelling in the chaos she was capable of creating.

“Worry not Leif! The bigger they are the harder they fall! Words to live by, especially for the small.” She clasped his shoulder. “With the might of a sword and the whisper of a spell we are well equipped for monster and disaster.”

He shook his head at her words, a half smile on his lips, “Why? Why join the company?” She was such a peculiar woman, he couldn’t help but wonder as to why she had put the quill to the paper in the first place.

Without hesitation she replied, “Gold of course! There’s opportunity in war. It’s a tad more complicated than that but as I said earlier, it is a very blue and sobering story. One not for the ears of a man hoping to distract himself from such things. Believe me.” She smiled to herself. “I am not so easily scared away, when one bounds Oblivion to their will monsters are a regular occurance.”

“We can certainly drink to that yes?”

“I suppose I can.” Leif nodded in mutual agreement. He had half the mind to invite her to his bed for the evening, nothing intimate, unless she so desired. It had been a few months since he had had the companionship of a woman, and he would much like to hold someone in his arms again. He took a swig of the mead before pushing it across the table towards her, grimacing at the overly sweet taste.

“So… Maj… have you a partner or a suitor?” Why not? He might as well ask.

Maj eyed him then took a swig of the mead. She leaned across the table to pat both of his cheeks, “While you have humoured my story tonight, you will not be humouring me in bed Leif Raven-Stone. You will not find a mend for your heart in me.”

“And you lack the proper… Uh set up.” She gestured at him generally. A crimson hue spread across his cheeks, at first he misunderstood her, but then it lighted upon him like candlelight in the darkest hours of night. “How about you tell me a story from your days on the Courtesan?”

“Perhaps another time, there’ll be many an hour aboard the Kyne’s Tear on our way to Jehanna. Best get some rest lass, we’ve a long voyage ahead of us. And, well, thank you for being an admirable storyteller.” Leif rose from the table where he dipped his head towards her. Part of him was truly exhausted, and the other part was shame. What could he say? He needed to clear his head with a good night's sleep.

Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier

Day 1 - Shore Leave - Real Subtle
_{A @DearTrickster & @Mortarion Collabo-Supremo}

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Time: Morning
Location: Hydroponic Gardens, Nexus

The quiet rumblings of a small group of protestors were met with a couple militia personal telling them to break it up. They argued back and forth, the same old peaceful protesting versus disturbance and disruption. Concerned citizens puffing up their chests, raising their voices over the calm albeit frustrated personnel. The artificial light of the Nexus was softly bright.

Dex sat astride one of the benches, dressed in her civvies. A dark blue sweater, with dark black pants. A scarf draped along her neck sitting outside her cowl. The hood was pulled up, as turian style forgoes covering the back of the head it snuggly sat behind her mandibles. Sleeves rolled up to the elbow. She watched with mild interest while the small discreet camera perched on her shoulder pad recorded. She didn’t know why she was recording, it was really none of her business. Later she’d reason it’d be for understanding the breakdown between the Nexus and the Exiles, keeping a stiff eye on security.

She saw, quite possibly the lone batarian wandering through, off kilter. She squinted watching him. Seeing the red limb she knew it was Khosin. “Hey! Khosin! C’mere.” She called to him, waving him over.

Being one of the few Batarians on the station, and even more rarely one of the fewer that had been thawed off before the arrival of Ark Hyperion, Khosin had grown accustomed to the feeling of being watched by everyone, and would have most likely kept going towards his quarters were it not by the voice that beckoned him over.

“Dex.” He thought, immediately recognising the voice. He turned his head around towards the source of her voice and easily found her, the cybernetic prosthesis with which she was waving him over was an easy enough tell for him to recognise her amongst the crowd of protesters and militia personnel that had gathered in the hydroponic gardens.

“Hey Dex, making a documentary?” He asked jokingly once he arrived to the spot where she was sitting, somewhat discreetly motioning to the camera that was perched on her shoulder. Without waiting for her reply, he took a seat next to her and took a drink from the hip flask that he was nowadays carrying near-constantly when he was outside of his quarters and not at the Vortex Lounge. “It’s been a while since we talked, huh?” He started, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to start the conversation.

“You look like shit.” She leaned forward taking a strong whiff of what she knew was alcohol. “For fuckssakes Khosin. You can drink the water here. Might be lacking in a few sand grains but you don’t have to be drunk before Noon.”

She elbowed him, “Try to be a bit more subtle about the camera huh? Still can’t keep a secret worth a damn.”

Dex rumbled through her sub harmonics, looking to the protestors. “I leave and suddenly everyone thinks cybernetics and losing limbs is the cool new thing.” She shook her head, eyeing him. “Even if you’re not in one piece... Good to see you.”

“Hmmm, what’s new under the sun?” Khosin asked, chuckling, in response to Dex’s astute observation about how he looked. He shook his head a bit about her comment about him drinking water and not needing to be drunk before noon “Hmm, I’m afraid that water doesn’t helps much with what’s here.” He said, tapping his head briefly in manner of explanation before he took another sip.

“Sorry about that, but I have gotten a bit better. If I was that bad I wouldn’t be here, would I? It’s not like I have the cleanest record.” He said with a low whisper, massaging the spot where she had elbowed him with his natural hand.

“Ah, yeah, you never knew how I lost my forearm.” He said, falling silent for a few seconds “My mind wasn’t in the game and I fucked up, let's put it that way.” Spoke the Batarian, it wasn’t exactly a full explanation but Dex was smart and she’d be able to figure out what he meant. “It’s good to see you too here Dex, I know I’ve...well, I haven’t been exactly the most warm guy ever, it's not like I went to talk with you or any of the other ex-Riggers after that stint on Site 1, but I’m glad that you are here.”

She stared him down, rumbling continued out of her subharmonics. Her mandibles were pulled tight against her face, the epitome of stern for a turian. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she huffed. She wasn’t done wringing him out yet. “Almost as cold as our team medic.”

“Slow down on drinking will you though? You’re poisoning your insides out with that shit, at the rate you’re going Andromeda will be the short stint before you’re dead or know the rest of us survive.” She paused thinking she was done, “And! I heard about your reckless bullshit stunt on Eos, if Lieutenant Tannyx hasn’t already told you as much.”

“Fuckssakes.” She said with a note of bitterness. You’re better than this.”

Khosin fell silent as Dex continued on with her tirade, letting her get it all out of her system before he spoke again. “I’m not.” He said quietly in response to her claim that he was better than this “What’s the better me Dex? Tell me.” He asked, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice, “The attack dog of the Hegemony? The pirate attacking Alliance ships on behalf of the Hegemony? Or the slaver that went AWOL and participated in the Mindoir raid? Or maybe it’s the merc that I became when I had my little crisis of conscience a little too late?” He whispered quietly, the bitterness replaced with weariness by the end.

“Let’s be honest Dex, I’ve never been better than this.” Khosin said, shoulders sagging slightly “I’m just a waste of space, going through life like some drone. About the only unambiguously good thing I’ve done in my life is my work with APEX right now.” He said with a sigh, shaking his head.

“So, what does it matters if I’m reckless? If I get hurt? Or if I’m drunk?” He said, shaking his hip-flask at the last bit of what he had said. “Please, do tell me because I don’t know.” Finished the Batarian, taking another swig of the alcohol on the hip-flask.

Dex stared, slowly turning into a glare. The rumbling in her sub vocals increased. Words weren’t going to get blood flowing to his brain.

“I’m sorry for what is about to happen to your face.”

She grabbed the flask ripping it from his hand and crunching it in her prosthetic hand. She tossed it away then grabbed him by his scruff. She stood over him, Khosin looked up at her with eyes that were blank and fogged over. Swinging back her left fist she cracked it against his jaw, fast and hard. She let go of his scruff then sat down beside him once again.

“Listen here, asshole.” She snapped. “Don’t keep being an ass when you’re already in shit.”

“That’s a really shitty way to talk about my friend, comrade and fucking teammate. If you don’t value yourself - others do, like me.” She said. “Survive to see the Arks arriving, survive to see another settlement. Fucking survive in spite of all your bullshit.”

“Listen here Dex, I don’t mind the punch. I’ve gotten worse during my training in the Hegemony.” Khosin said, his demeanor suddenly growing serious as he sat upright, each of his four eyes bearing into Dex’s “Do you have any idea of what this ‘bullshit’, as you’ve put it, entails?” He said, his hands balling into fists, “Because, let me tell you, you have no idea.” He spoke, bitterness palpable in his voice.

She averted her gaze but stayed quiet, because she really hadn’t.

“Have you seen packs of savage varren being released inside of hospitals? Have you seen hundreds of people’s corpses being used to feed varrens?” He whispered to her, “Have you seen whole schools slaughtered, just because someone didn’t feel like bothering rounding them up?” He hissed to her. “I have, and that shit follows me through all days and nights, so if I were you I’d be careful and not call that bullshit, because you’ve no idea the kind of guilt I’m carrying with me.”

“And don’t worry about me dying anytime soon, I don’t plan to kick the bucket until I am sure that the Initiative is safe and sound in Heleus. You might not like it, but this is the sole good thing I’ve ever done and it’s why I get up every morning; to give people like you, people that still have the chance, the opportunity to have a new home.”

She was silent for a few moments, still madder than hell. “Then how about this, pull your head out of your ass. The Khosin I knew back with the Riggers cared enough to not end everything prematurely by diving into a fight blindly. He cared enough to realize that being alive was more effective and he still believed he had a fucking chance. Go looking for him at the bottom of a glass. I’m done.”

She stood kicking the ruined flask away. Not sparing a glance behind her.

“You know, before we left the Milky Way, my family hated me.” Khosin said quietly, uncaring if Dex heard him or not, “Disowned me, actually, they didn’t contact me ever after I got them out of Hegemony Space, not even when I told them that I was gonna join the Initiative.” He said quietly, his mood growing somber, “You know why? Because they found out.” He finished, looking down at the spot where his ruined flask had fallen before Dex kicked it away.

She stopped dead in her tracks, turning on her heel. She marched back up to him, losing what little cool she was able to dignify walking away with. She screeched in his face at full volume. The sound she made was a mix of a gutteral hiss and bird-like growl. She stood back up to full height then finally walked away.

Protesters and militia alike were staring at her display, considering what was more important with a possible random fight breaking out. Dex’s swift exit helped them relax. What became of Khosin after she left was outside her current concerns.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Mid-Morning, 5th of Last Seed
Solitude, Outside the Winking Skeever

---

Sea dried and well worn leather boots tapped to an off key song, toes indecisively pointed in different directions just outside The Winking Skeever. The musty smell of the city carried on the crisp sea breeze, the sun shone dully through overcast skies and while it was a considerably warm morning some would still find it chilly. Behind the pair of boots was the distinct rattling of a thin tin pan just outside the Inn’s entrance.

“I hear the sounds of a kind heart with a heavy pocket, please let me help you relieve you of that.” A beggar asked of the Redguard woman loitering outside the doors. “If only to afford breakfast.”

She turned her bright green eyes on him, sweeping an observant eye up and down. With hair black as the sea on a starless night, barely tamed into a twist at the left side of her head. Silver studs winked from her earlobes, while her dark green cloak wrapped at her collar. It looked to be in good shape, tenderly mended with practiced hands. She wore a rich maroon red jacket with a long skirt, it hugged her torso. She bent down to her hunches crouching to speak to him directly, the full force of his smelly stale unwashed body and the strong soured smell of mead hit her. He smiled kindly, hopeful for her acknowledging his existence. Noticing the purple bags under her eyes, looking as if she hadn’t slept a wink even at the Winking Skeever. “I will not offer coin but I offer you instead is far more valuable.”

He was puzzled until she roughly patted his shoulder - a point he would go onto complain to his friends later. His expression soured immediately.

“Good luck, perhaps you will feel better after washing up at the Temple of the Divines.” She said not unkindly.

He glared, “Oh, fuck off.”

She stood again, walking away with a shrug. “Mayhaps you will find coin comes easier if kind patrons weren’t keen to your mead-rich body odor.” She tapped the side of her crooked nose.

He grumbled to himself, waving her off to go away.

Maj Noor was well out of earshot to hear him and in a state of excitement. After joining a mercenary company speaking with a young decorated Nord, Gustav - clearly the backer of the successful company. Gustav couldn’t help but highlight some of their latest work. He seemed impressed by her bravado and seemingly larger than life exploits as a Corsair, she told him tales of danger, excitement and rich rewards with booty aplenty. Conveniently skipping over what the fate of the Scarlet Harpy currently is. He saw value in her skills as a mage, he decided to recruit her then assigned her under a breton named Ariane Fontaine. Miss Fontaine coldly shooed her away after finding out what Maj’s expertise lied in. None to interested in speaking further than gathering very base information. Maj was confident they were able to pay their employees reliably after seeing Gustav and Ariane, both dressed finely and speaking just as fine.

Maj was looking forward to seeing Skyrim for the first time, her time there cut short as they would be sailing to High Rock instead of staying within the province. Over the past days before Kyne’s Tear was scheduled to leave she frugally spent what coin she earned on her voyage to Skyrim, stocking up and taking in the sights of Solitude. As a coastal city, it was large and bustling in the best way. Everything Maj hoped for, it provided convenience in the shops and a slice of Skyrim’s culture.

While the bed was soft and clean at the Winking Skeever, the food freshly bought and prepared. Maj still had a difficult time adjusting to being back on solid ground. The entertainment there was mildly depressing to watch on the other hand. An Altmer juggler being jeered while he juggled large balls, she felt the waves of misery rolling off him. It had the former corsair excusing herself from witnessing the pathetic display.

She intended to visit the Temple of Divines before shipping out, early as it was. While she rarely prayed, sparing one for Kynareth would have been prudent considering the name of the ship. The brisk walk to the temple helped energize Maj, the sun warmed her face even if the considerably warm breeze had her pull her cloak tighter.

She stepped into the great stone Temple, stone arches smoothly led down toward the altars. Some were kneeling before them while priests and priestesses dotted the Temple going about their day-to-day. Her footfalls making little noise as she approached, sunlight was just beginning to peek through the windows - bright shafts casting upon the sacred arrangement of altars. A few were in front of Kynareth’s altar praying. Maj found an empty pew with clear sight of the altar. She removed her sketchbook flipping to a fresh page. While her thoughts wandered as she sketched, she silently offered up prayers. She prayed for safe winds to fill Kyne’s Tear's sails - swift but sure currents to carry them to Jehanna. Finally she prayed for her mercy if she were to conjure a storm and the tide to be kind to their arrvial. It felt nostalgic to be in the Temple and praying to Kynareth. Maj so often joined her stepmother - Annalise in her prayers if only to spend more time with her. One of the Nord priests approached her after a couple of hours, the details were taking shape around the drawing.

“Hello child, how do you fare this blessed day?” His hood was drawn up and sleeves rolled up. His hands were soft as was his voice.

Maj paused, “Well enough.”

He curiously looked over her shoulder at the sketch and murmured approval. “A wonderful impression of our Lady Kynareth’s altar.”

“Thank you.” Maj said nervously hoping he wouldn’t be interested in seeing what else she had drawn. Maj had a good understanding of structure and shape for objects. While she excelled at drawing anatomy, however that anatomy was often without clothes.

He asked anyway, “Have you other pieces of art of our Lady Kynareth?”

“Uh-” She began he was already reaching to turn the page back. “No! No!”

He flipped back to a page catching a glimpse of her nude lover drawn in a depiction of Kynareth, a bird delicately drawn in her hands, beautifully depicted but blasphemous to the eyes of a holy man. His mouth popped open in shock. Maj snapped it shut, “Good day, thank you for the compliment - must be going. Have a ship to catch! Goodbye!” She escaped the pew and left the agape priest behind. She quickly stowed the sketchbook into her backpack legging it to the docks.

---

Noon, 5th of Last Seed
Solitude Docks - Kyne’s Tear

It was easy to find the ship floating at the docks. Maj dodged past busy fishermen, travelers and sailors all with somewhere to be. She climbed aboard the Kyne's Tear, shoulders back her chin in the air taking a deep breath in through her nose. Cargo was being loaded, final preparations for departure being made.

She grinned at the sight, feeling immediately comfortable. She spied the leaders of the company at the stern of the ship. Taking an honest look over everyone she saw present merc or otherwise. She sat at the railing feet hanging off the sides, she pulled out an apple shining it over her opposite shoulder. There was a fairly decent mix up of men, mer and beast. A couple Khajit and Argonians. Nords, imperials and even redguards. She spied the pair of bosmer, one looking the part of a warrior while her extreme opposite was a priestess. The few Dunmer ranging from various attitudes by just one look. And the orc! He stuck out like a sore thumb, smiling and talking. She tried to guess who some of vets were - name dropped previously by Gustav. One face she recognized was the gaunt one of the juggler at the Skeever, she suddenly found her apple to be far more interesting averting her gaze.

It wasn’t long before they launched, the anchor being dragged up from the dredges of Solitude's bay. Sea breeze whisking at her hair, Maj found it increasingly difficult not to smile. The Sea of Ghosts welcoming her back.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Maj Noor

Maj Noor

Female | Redguard | 27 | The Apprentice

Profile

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§ Birthplace

Sentinel, Hammerfell

§ Appearance

Maj stands back straight at 5'4”. Wavy, often unruly long black hair that reaches a length below her shoulders, short uneven bangs falling around her face. She often ties it off to the side of her head. With a pair of full but often chapped lips, grinning wryly.

Her dark skin steeply contrasts her wickedly bright green eyes, deep purple circles line her under eye from lack of proper sleep. Rounded out cheeks, slimmed jaw with a naturally crooked nose. Two scars are visible on her face, one at her brow and another on her lower lip from a stray soul gem fragment bursting after an experiment. Bright silver earrings twinkle in the sunlight at her ears, enchanted to fortify her conjuration.

Maj has narrow hips, strong sea legs and a small torso. She likes to make a strong first impression, taught by her Corsair crew mates the importance of reputation and presentation. She carries her small stature with the confidence of a man twice her size, as a result. Determined to fill the room with her presence, whether that succeeds or fails she tries regardless.

She has never been one built for the cold, as such she dresses in layers. High leather boots sealed against water or snow. Dark leggings, long white tunic, with a dark maroon jacket made of cotton, long soft leather gloves that stretch up her forearm. When removed any curious eyes can see all the tiny light nicks and scars along her hands and fingers from soul gem experimentation. Rough calluses have hardened in her palms from years working at sea. Carries a dark green enchanted cloak with a hood to protect from rain and snow, enchanted to resist magicka, it provides some protection against magickal assailants. Around her waist is a belt holding up a two part pouch at the small of her back where she keeps her money and some spare food.

Clothing

_{Credit Link}

§ Personality

As a young child she was bratty as they came, bookish and demanding. Undoubtedly filled to the brim with an insufferable amount of attitude - enough to rival an adult. She proved to be a handful for both her father and her begrudging older brother. She had a true penchant for trouble; getting stuck while exploring or finding a way to break anything she got her hands on. She eventually grew out of her bratty ways but remains a demanding personality, entirely willful. Completely unaware to how much she enjoys instant gratification, a result of her father and brother giving into her tantrums just so they could find some peace.

She learned some patience from her stepmother, learned discipline when first aboard a ship. It strengthened her iron will, it lent well to controlling the chaotic beings of Oblivion. Her ability to focus on a task or spell is difficult to break, sleep deprivation remains her concentration’s greatest enemy. She greatly respects staying true to character in face of adversity - strength of mind, heart or body. Years spent with Captain Sette she learned to see holes in the heart as Captain Sette had once seen in her. An illusionist’s eyes accustomed to seeing past the illusions of others. However, that is where her emotional intelligence starts and ends. Maj has no patience for dealing with her own emotional or physical pain and even less for strangers. She can empathize and understand why someone is in pain but doesn't have enough empathy to help them deal with it.

She enjoys creating and acting out her pirate front, putting forth an act of bravado and confidence. Taught well by charismatic corsairs. Past those first impressions, Maj enjoys the quiet ambiance of waves lapping, boots marching, or the ramble of marketplaces. She is pulled toward activity. Genuinely enjoys the harsh life at sea, working as a well oiled cog in the mechanism. Craves that support, stability, and familiarity of knowing where she fits and her purpose at the hands of someone she truly respected.

Quietly hopes to regain the approval of her father, blazing the trail to her own success regardless of what that success may look like.

§ Background

A painful birth and short farewell, Maj Noor was born the 29th of Sun’s Height in the year 178 4E and Iman Noor died shortly thereafter, at the very least able to greet her newborn daughter before passing on. Months of complications leading to her birth only stood as a testament to Iman’s strength to carry Maj to term. Leaving behind Kinstel and Abdul to mourn her death and raise Maj.

Abdul at the age of seven held a resentment toward Maj, blaming her for the death of their mother. Try as Kinstel did to teach his son otherwise. Maj being a fussy baby did not improve her worth in young Abdul’s eyes. Kinstel himself was a successful market merchant, silver tongued and able to sell someone their own shirt. Born in Hammerfell to a Forebears family lineage, he carries belief and stories of The Nine Divines, passing on his beliefs to his children. Carrying extreme prejudice toward necromancy and conjuration. Kinstel taught them their letters and numbers, Abdul took to the lessons of mercantile while Maj decidedly checked out of them only pacified with a book in her hands.

Kinstel felt he could pursue greener pastures in High Rock, for years the trade had slowed to a crawl any resources were being funnelled to the recovery of Hammerfell’s southern shores after the Great War. Piracy was seeing a surge in activity choking what little was already getting through to Sentinel. Quietly with Iman’s passing he felt his heart could truly heal disconnecting from Sentinel.

He packed up what he could, shuffling the children from their home to set new roots in Wayrest, High Rock. Seeing a bright future for his family there. He was proved to be correct, healing from the passing of his wife to meet and marry new love Annalise, a Kynareth priestess, leaving her priesthood behind to marry Kinstel but not leaving all of her secrets behind. She was gentle, with the patience of a true saint to help raise Abdul and Maj. Abdul didn’t take to his new mother well but Maj grew to respect her kindness and patience, likening her to a willow tree bending with a gale force winds as opposed to resisting it. She didn’t give in to Maj’s bratty demands but negotiated with her, it proved to be an effective form of parenting.

Annalise helped shape Maj’s budding aptitude in magicka, what she hadn’t expected was Maj’s keen nose for trouble. Maj at the age of 8 4E 188, rifled through some of Annalise’s old belongings looking for a new book in the home she hadn’t read yet stumbling upon a stack of conjuration spell books and research notes. Recognizing the symbol of the taboo school of magic, she was disgusted at first with the secret. As taboos go, Maj really wanted to know why it was as taboo as it was, fascinated to learn more. She stole them away finding her own hiding place to read them more. With her new magicka lessons, Maj spent the afternoon trying to learn some basic spells. As children are ones for carelessness Annalise soon discovered her belongings had been rifled through fearing the worst she went searching for where the books may have been taken only to catch Maj red handed.

Furious and terrified of her secret becoming known to her husband, Annalise made it their shared secret promising in exchange to teach Maj how to safely practice Conjuration without summoning unbound daedra. Not trusting Maj to simply detach from her new found fascination. Annalise saw sense in teaching Maj at least that much.

That summer the family decided it was time for Maj to learn some proper skills, Abdul followed his father to work the markets while Maj had stayed inside to read her days away. Magicka lessons weren’t enough. Annalise and Kinstel were hoping to start negotiating an arranged marriage with some other merchant families in Wayrest, Kinstel was keen on sending his daughter to join the Kynareth priesthood and learn restoration like her stepmother but Annalise knew Maj did not have the patience for healing. Instead suggested speaking with some of the families in Wayrest who had a ship. A few character building months at sea matched up with a son could prove a good investment.

The Cox were a seafaring family, having made a successful business in shipment with reliable cargo protection, and more importantly had a son around Maj’s age. The Cox’s reluctantly agreed to take on Maj pairing her up with their youngest son, Quyon. They weren’t initially convinced a bookish child could handle being away from home for the first time and at sea. To their surprise Maj stepped in line, the structure and busy days aboard their ship was what she needed. Quyon and Maj became fast friends, he guided her aboard the ship and they completed chores together. When they returned at the end of the summer, she was sea brushed - beaming and full of stories to tell her family. The Cox agreed to arrange marriage between Quyon and Maj when they became of age.

In the year 188 4E the piracy was at its peak and the Invasion of Wayrest was quick and decisive. Merchant families and other ship owning individuals were to submit to the Corsair Republic and cooperate or die. Sharing percentages of trade and safe passage through Iliac Bay. Some gave up and moved onto trading caravans while others submitted to the Republic, able to absorb the percentage to pay to continue their trade. The Cox were among the families that were able to continue sailing - begrudgingly cooperating with the Corsair Republic. There was a fair amount of distrust for the pirates but nobody trusted the Wayrest ruling nobility either after the betrayal. The Corsair’s true target was routing The Dark Brotherhood.

For the next 7 years she spent every summer at sea with Quyon, always looking forward to her time with her best friend and their voyages. Learning more with the places they traveled to, growing up and out of her brattiness. As they grew older it was apparent they had been matched off, neither objecting but neither of them harbored romantic feelings for the other. Far as arranged marriages went they knew they could be matched with far worse. Secretly gaining more lessons about conjuration from Annalise, they bonded as they delved into her stepmother’s previous life as a conjurer. They quietly rejected her father’s prejudiced views.

In the year of 192 4E Quyon and Maj were wed and held the sacred duty as husband and wife to consummate their marriage and provide the next generation. Quyon was patient with Maj as she was with him, neither holding true for a spark of love or lust, in spite of that they wanted to do right by their families. They tried repeatedly to conceive children, only for Maj never showing signs of being with child. Annalise and a host of restoration mages tried potions and prayer for Maj unfortunately nothing stuck. A problem that the best healer in Wayrest wouldn’t be able to fix. Maj was pronounced barren. Both the Cox and Noor’s attempted to comfort Maj but there was an underline of disappointment. Their first year of marriage was akin to spending more time with each other than ever before, they took comfort in their strong bonds.

Unfortunately the borrowed time Annalise and Maj had with practicing conjuration finally ran out, as they headed to their usual private spot to practice using the usual excuse of shopping for dinner. Abdul went looking for them in the markets only for some having seen them wonder off, they pointed him their way. Abdul found them midway practicing soul trap, conjuration spell book at their feet. A damning scene to see and before Maj or Annalise could say a word he immediately ran to his father.

Kinstel flew into a rage, disgusted by his wife and daughter for practicing the most vile school of magic. Kinstel in his fit of rage blamed the fruitless marriage on Maj and the Divines visiting their consequences upon her by making her barren. Maj naturally fought back defending conjuration but it pushed Kinstel over the edge. Annalise - shocked and terrified of his rage, she held strong at Maj’s side unable to summon the same courage to argue.

Kinstel tore Maj from Annalise, with his teenage daughter in hand he marched her to the Cox household roughly pulling the wedding band from Maj’s finger he threw it before Quyon’s father, forcing her to break off the marriage for the sake of their reputation. He repeatedly berated Maj. Quyon attempted to defend his wife but the shame came crashing down on Maj’s head vocally consenting to her father’s order. Quyon silenced by his own father, he separated the enraged Kinstel from the teens trying to talk sense to him. Ashamed Maj took off at a run from both of them, tear faced and disgraced. Kinstel shouted after her, peppering the exit with more curses.

Maj spent the night at the docks, crying - cold and feeling like her life was being burned up before her. The next morning she was worse for wear - shouts of enthusiastic Corsair hiring booths had pulled her from her revere. Dry eyed and in the best place to make bad decisions Maj went wandering down the booths looking for work. If she were to be disgraced and without family she felt her only option for work would still be at sea. Passing a booth by until it’s captain called out to her, Captain Lily Sette. Surrounded by her crew, calling out to join the Scarlet Harpy. The Captain saw in Maj as she saw in all her crew members. She saw loss as clear as one would see reading a book.

Captain Sette briefly explained her crew was looking for women with sailing experience and welcomed apprenticeships for mages. A rare vessel crewed completely by women of all creeds and backgrounds, a gathering of widows, ex slaves, and the disenfranchised women looking for purpose backed by a terrifyingly strong force of mages aboard. They held a philosophy of rescuing those fallen victim to shipwrecks and contracted to hunt slave ships when they made their odd appearance. They operated under the Corsair Republic so they participated in raiding fat and slow merchant ships for resources and gold to pay their tribute to the Republic but operated with good intentions. Maj signed up seeing no real reason not to.

Given a big and warm welcome aboard Maj was set to work and with her interest in conjuration was apprenticed by their master of conjuration, the dunmer Nephelle Avalone. Tall and willowy she regarded her new apprentice with kind red eyes, impossibly white silvery hair framed her angular features. Nephelle was 30 years Maj’s senior. Maj felt a fire ignite in the pit of her belly. At the young age of 16 she joined the crew of the Scarlet Harpy. It took some easing and adjustment to piracy for Maj, most prominently with killing others. While she was abhorrent to the thought of necromancy the pirates around her helped her adjust. She moved past her hesitation but never grew to like it, taking life was a natural part of raiding. As such - the pirate’s life was hers now. She enjoyed having a new family and purpose most of all, she reasoned the work was fair trade. In her later years she realized she would owe the crew of the Scarlet Harpy more than just loyalty.

Maj fit in quickly, many of the women empathizing with her story and Maj doing the same as she learned each of their own stories. Mages and warriors fought alongside each other with ferocity, the crew and her ship acted as one singular force united by the charismatic Captain Sette, a master of illusion. Over the next few years as Maj grew from a teenager into an adult so too did her feelings for her mentor, maturing with her. Nephelle was aware of Maj’s attraction, initially uncomfortable but doing little to rebuff her interest. Soon, in three years time, Nephelle reciprocated. They eased into their relationship as one did trying on new boots. It was awkward to start, they faced a lot of adjustment. Once they settled - able to draw a line between their lessons from their relationship Nephelle and Maj became inseparable. They were a fearsome pair of conjurers coordinating their attacks. Their love fueled their nights as it did their attacks.

As Maj’s expertise grew in conjuration she branched out, always admiring her Captain's mastery of the mind. She took on learning Illusion from her Captain, it complimented her conjuration adding more versatility. Maj took to it to like a fish to water. While she apprenticed as a mage she proved to be quite dexterous with her hands, she became one of the crew's tailors. Sewing holes in sails, mending clothing, even learning to apply enchantments. Any one crew member took on multiple jobs but Maj’s curiosity for soul gems grew as she learned more about enchantment.

For 11 years Maj remained aboard the Scarlet Harpy, happy and at home. The crew changed faces as some died and some left to pursue other goals. She wrote letters consistently to Quyon and her family, Annalise and Quyon were the only replies she received. She developed a distaste for meat, after eating nearly rotten meat one too many times while at sea. She switched decidedly to eating nuts, vegetables and occasionally fish if she saw it freshly caught.

They sailed along the western coast of Hammerfell and as far south as Cyrodiil, running from Dominion fleets and playing cat and mouse with Hammerfell’s. It was exciting, thrilling and ultimately not without consequences. In the year of 205 4E a fat and well stocked Dominion merchant ship fell prey to the Scarlet Harpy, as an act of revenge for the family victimized they sent bounty hunters after them. Two Hunter ships stalked the Scarlet Harpy and attacked in the night flanking the ship and her crew.

The attack was vicious and was prepared for their defenses. The crew fought and lost. They were overwhelmed on both sides. Maj was separated from Nephelle and fell below decks fighting for her life as their enemies blew holes in the Scarlet Harpy’s hull, she quickly took on water trapping Maj below decks with cargo blocking her exit. As the claustrophobic walls closed in and the ship began to sink, panic gripped Maj’s heart. She lost consciousness, waking several hours later vomiting seawater on a rocky beach. The fate of the Scarlet Harpy unknown and her own survival a mystery. Lighting a signal fire for help, the smoke signaled a nearby fishing boat a few days later carrying her to safety of High Rock’s coast with only the clothes on her back.

Determined to find out the fate of the Scarlet Harpy Maj found herself in Daggerfall, without coin or a plan. She was stuck. She burned to know what happened to Nephelle. Rumours only confirmed what she knew, a notorious pirate crew was removed off the coast High Rock. Prisoners were taken with no leads to where exactly.

It was Sun’s Height, while the politics and wars raging on land did little to affect Maj directly, she heard of Skyrim’s High King - the legendary Dragonborn being assassinated followed by a unprecedented invasion of the Kamals. The news shocked her but she knew with the invasion of a foreign force there would be opportunity to those who were looking for it. Maj decided to take advantage of it, if she were to earn the coin and fund a new crew to seek out the fate of her former crew she could recover Nephelle at the very least. She prayed, as she rarely did to the Divines to give her strength. She worked to pay her way to Solitude, the voyage bringing her into Last Seed, arriving looking for mercenary work.

Capabilities

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§ Attributes

Major - Willpower

Minor - Intelligence

§ Skills

Expert: Summoning (Conjuration), Illusion
Adept: Enchanting
Apprentice: Tailoring, Language - Dunmeris*
Novice: Destruction

§ Weaknesses

Sink or Swim

After the sinking of the Scarlet Harpy being trapped below decks, nearly drowning - Maj has developed a fear for swimming and drowning. Only recently aware of her new found fear, still grappling with the fresh loss of her crew and lover. Fear freezes her from wading into water above her waist, unaware of the true panic waiting for her if she ever finds herself ejected into open water, trapped below ice or debris.

Insomniac

Battling with insomnia ever since she was a teenager, she finds herself able to have a peaceful sleep at sea with the gentle rocking of the waves, salty air, and slight twinge of mildew and tar. On dry land she has fitful sleeps at best. Used to the fluctuating sleep schedule she is happy to take up guard postings, keeping herself busy. However, some terribly long bouts of sleeplessness will hit her with the full effects of sleep deprivation. Poor judgement, hallucinations, irritability, slow reflexes and of course low energy. However, menial tasks like sewing can be trusted with her, her hands know what to do even if her mind is gone. Stress, anxiety and sleeping on hard ground exasperates her condition, making it difficult to fall asleep.

Born at the Wrong Time

Being born under The Apprentice constellation gave Maj early advantages in magicka and an above average reservoir - it also made her sensitive to magicka. She attempts to compensate with enchanted clothing but mages have proven to cause devastating damage to her person directly. She avoids directly engaging with other mages in a fight, traps and illusions have similarly intensified affects on her.

§ Spells

Conjuration: Summon Frost, Flame and Storm Atronach. Soul Trap, Expel Daedra.

Illusion: Calm, charm, fear, muffle, courage, frenzy, and invisibility.

Destruction: Sparks, Flames

§ Tactics

Maj relies quite heavily on the actions of her atronach, she has been taught and mentored to use her daedric summons in the most creative ways possible. Unleashing them upon the environment around enemies, most notably destroying a ship and crippling it by setting flame to the mast, sending a storm atronach across the bow, dropping a frost atronach from above to come crashing through the deck. While her atronachs inspire chaos around them, she aids them by preying on her targets adrenaline washed minds. Whether that is to send them running in fear or inspiring them to take on more than can clearly handle.

Still holds a little ingrained prejudice toward true necromancy, refused to learn how to Raise the Dead. Doesn’t feel comfortable to cross that line.

With her back up against a wall she’ll use flames to create distance disappearing to the eye using invisibility. Always, always keeping a relatively large amount of distance between herself and an enemy. When out of magicka she will make a run for safety, making last ditch efforts with her magicka to give herself a head start. Maj is not a naturally gifted fighter, she is physically fit and fairly flexible to withstand some hits to her person (given they aren't magicka). Her time aboard Scarlet Harpy she moved from climbing around the rig to unfurl sails, tying them back up, to hunching over desks mending clothing. Taught the basics of how to throw a punch or avoid one, she tries her best to keep enemies from getting close enough. In a one on one fist fight she would surely lose.

§ Relations & Affiliations

Iman Noor - Birth Mother, Fate Known: deceased, died during childbirth.
Kinstel & Annalise Noor - Father and Stepmother. Fate known, alive and well living in Wayrest.
Abdul - Older brother. Fate Known, alive and well in Wayrest with parents.
Quyon Cox - Ex husband, childhood best friend. Fate Known, Alive and well in Wayrest.
Nephelle Avalone - Lover and conjuration mentor. Fate Unknown, missing and presumably imprisoned. Image
Captain Lily Sette - Scarlet Harpy’s Captain and Maj’s illusion mentor. Fate unknown, dead or imprisoned after the attack.

§ Opinions

Keegan: A performer through and through, Maj finds herself greatly admiring his expertise in illusion but he visibly cringes when she speaks and works diligently to tune out her voice. It does not go unnoticed by Maj.

Ariane: Highborn, educated, talkative on the right subjects, one stiff upper lip. Her treatment of Sevine while they fished for jellyfish did not go unnoticed by Maj. As far as a boss goes, while Ariane's snobbery left something to be desired she was fun to brainstorm with. She had been making pointed questions of Maj's health and allergies as of late. Maj has growing suspicions.

Tsleeixth: Quiet, some potential skills in conjuration - definitely rough around the edges, looks rougher in broad daylight. Maj hasn't the chance to have a proper covnersation with the Argonian, but like many tolerates her running mouth.

Do'Karth: Prior to their fight with the Golden Slug, he seemed peaceful and pleasant. Now having seen him shuttered away from intense injuries, something new has reared on his back. Maj likes his beard.

Wylendriel: The Kynareth Piestess had left an largely good impression on Maj, her expertise in restoration evident. Her selfless (albeit sort of dumb) attempts to save others, Maj sees herself getting along well with her. The vision of her surrounded in light and the scars on her back were difficult images for Maj to shake.

Adaeze: Dead and gone but briefly off-put by her culture clashing with her race. Maj sympatheized with that a little, born one place and raised elsewhere.

Sagax: Maj heard of his exploits but hardly believed them until she saw him in action. How he was still running around on the back of tremendous amount of luck was mind blowing.

Piper: Ariane had a stiff upper lip but Piper's distaste in everyone around her was ridiculous. Especially for Maj's stories, scoffs and indignantly leaves the room. A different brand of snobbery.

Sadri: Having not spoken two words to him, but he knew a thing or two around Kyne's Tear, marking of a fellow sailer. She was sure they'd find something in common.

Narzul: Prior to the Golden Slug, Narzul registered as intensely prejudiced as Piper's distaste. After helping rescue Niernen he grew to be respectful to some degree, if only to a handful. Maj still resolved to give him and his sister plenty of space after reading what happened to their family in the paper.

Marcel: Being around the breton made her incredibly tired, more so after a sleepless night. Otherwise his general presence sent goosebumps across her arms. Confering with other mages in the company there was a resounding agreement.

Sevine: Incredibly brave, respectful and kind. They worked well in tandem, she'd happily have Sevine's back again in combat.

Leif: A fun but albeit sad lad, Maj was sure he'd find his way again. His equilibrium. They enjoyed sharing their seafaring stories.

Daixanos: While Tseelixth was approachable Daixanos was far tougher, disinterested. She had known few argonians prior to the mercenaries but perhaps they could find common ground elsewhere.

Alim: Roguish, Maj was initially was curious about him but he avoided her. She wondered if it had to do with her school of magic.

§ Other

Navigation & Map Reading: Years at sea, Maj has a great sense of direction and navigation. She can read the stars, a map and a compass.
Knot tying: Great with knots, with a large portion of her life at sea she is quite handy with rope.
Dunmeris*: Learning to speak Dunmeris from Nephelle she by association is familiar with the Daedric alphabet.
Sketch Artist: Maj takes pride in her ability to sketch, has an almost embarrassingly large amount of sketches of Nephelle in her sketchbook. They are fairly new and they help to fill the ache of missing her paramour. Caution to the Curious: Do not flip past page 10, the sketches continue but on a far more private level.
Name that Daedra!: Maj has a streak for silly names as pirates traditionally go, she of course named her atronachs. They are as such - Flames: Cinders (Cindy), Frost: Snowflake, Storm: Furgur Blitzcloud.
Vegetarian: Maj is vegetarian, she'll only eat meat when she sees it's freshly caught or cut. Plays it safe without eating meat.

Inventory

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§ Cash

25 Septims

§ Keys & Lockpicks

...

§ Tools & Crafting Materials

x1 Sewing Kit
x1 Charcoal Pencil
x1 Small knife to sharpen pencil

§ Clothing & Armor

Leather Boots & Gloves
Enchanted Resist Magicka Cloak
Woolly long skirted jacket
Belted leather pouches at her back
x1 Spare set of leggings and white tunic.

§ Weapon & Ammo

...

§ Potion & Arcane Supplies

...

§ Jewelry & Valuables

A pair of silver earrings enchanted to fortify her conjuration - A gift from Nephelle.

§ Books & Documents

x1 Brand New Leather bound Sketchbook

§ Food/Drinks/Ingredients

x3 Apples
x1 sack of dried tree nuts
x1 Water Skin
x1 Wine Skin

§ Load Bearing Equipment

x1 Backpack
x1 Leather Pouches attached to her belt.

§ Other

The Truth is Easy to See - Spotify Playlist

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

@Peik Good point! I will clarify she's not a trained fighter but certainly physically capable.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

@DearTrickster, great work. Maj is a unique character with personality corresponding perfectly to her background and skills.

There's a few typos, and I advise you to read over the sheet and fix them. Besides the typos, I have only one nitpick. Maj is familiar with the Daedric alphabet, yet she carries a Daedric alphabet translation book.

Once you address the issues above, and anything @Peik may bring up, you can add Maj to the roster.

@Gcold

Sounds good, will make those edits and wait to hear from Peik.