Dervish

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

Looks like it's time for a collab! Paging @Dervish and @Hellis. Do you agree?

@Hank

Yarrrp

Mass Effect: Borealis

Literally Shootin’ the Shit

A @Dervish & @DearTrickster Collab

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Dex opened the case for her M-97 Viper, by far her favourite rifle to use a hum of content as she closed it hiking it up over her shoulder effortlessly. The day had picked up after they had landed on Elysium, had an embarrassing debriefing with Captain Donnelly, then everyone was given time to relax. She knew of at least one person she wanted to drag along to practice. No questions, no emotionally wrenching conversations waited. It was a relief. She shrugged on a light jacket anticipating the cooler weather from the morning.

The turian made her way through the ship, the afternoon was open. Sliding down the ladder to the hangar she heard the music first before she saw Tanya standing at an easel, a tarp covered in paint. “Hey! Tanya!” She shouted over the music.

”Shithead, lower volume to 15%.” she shouted to her drone, which motionlessly complied with the directive as it hovered unwaveringly nearby, casting an orange globe on the surrounding work area as if it were a small sun. ”Dex, how’s it going? I assume you are itching to get off the ship.” She asked, dipping her brush into a water jar.

“Yeah, more than you know. I’m heading to the shooting range, get some practice in. You want to join me?” Dex asked stepping to the edge of the tarp, paint spotted and splashed the mechanic in a similar way grease or oil did usually.

Tanya didn’t take long to decide. ”Playing with guns and not breathing recycled air. You sure know how to show a girl a good time. I’d like to taste something that hasn’t been frozen or baked in sixteen layers of preservatives for space flight for a change.” she said, capping off her paint jars and standing up from the stool with a stretch. ”Give me 20 minutes to freshen up, and I’ll meet you back here?”

“Sure. Digging yourself out of layers of paint would take a few minutes.” She commented. “I’ll meet you outside the ship.”

Dex hammered open the hangar doors, taking in a long breath of cool fresh air. Still too cold for her liking but she didn’t mind. The spaceport was busy with ships arriving and leaving, the sky filled with movement. There was precious little where Dex felt at home or comfortable but local ports with busy traffic was one of the places she felt centered. She called a taxi. It wasn’t long before Tanya reappeared toting her own gun case, conveniently the taxi had arrived a few minutes before Tanya did.

Tanya reemerged washed up and hair fixed up, eliminating all traces of her hobby or mechanical handiwork on her body, save for some barely noticeable black stains within her fingerprints and under the nails. She wore simple thick blue cargo pants, a pair of brown leather hiking boots, and a black jacket, made of similar materials as the pants. She had her Vindicator and Predator already stuffed inside a hard case, which was strapped over her shoulder.

She looked at the taxi with a frown. ”What, wasn’t going fast enough for your tastes?” she asked.

“Not nearly.” Dex joked. “Let’s go, been looking forward to the range all day.”

They unloaded their cases into the trunk of the cab then hopped in themselves. “Maximilian's Gun Range, please.”

The taxi took off crossing the city, dipping in and out of heavy traffic. The ride was a comfortable silence, Dex didn’t feel an awkward shift while the background radio played. Reiterating her relief in asking Tanya to join her. Neither of them held any real expectations for the other. Just their first chance to spend any time outside of crew dinners, the odd visit down to the hangar, Dex didn’t know much about the human beyond her need to go back to Terra Nova for the memorial.

They arrived to the gun range, it wasn’t much time to get registered and pay for their slot of time and admittance. The range was set outside, deep pits of dirt were dug out. Bright orange markers showed the distance of some large scrap metal targets with red bulls eyes. Dex settled her case against the wooden benches, she opened her case plucking the rifle up out of the soft foam, unfolding it full size. She checked the sights, then turned to Tanya.

“What rifle did you bring?”

Tanya plopped her case down on the bench next to Dex. ”Only one I own. And my sidearm.” she said, pulling the blocky M-15 from the case and strapping a holster to her thigh with the M-3 Predator sitting snug within it. ”Truth be told, if the rifle didn’t do all the calculations in the scope for me, I’d be buggered if I tried to hit anything past 300 meters, and even then it’s a bit of a chore.” she said, the rifle extending in her hands and power indicators coming to life. ”Was never much of a marksman. So tell me, what does a spy like yourself need to be a crack shot for? Isn’t most of your old job hiding behind a desk and cackling evilly?” she askedTa with a teasing grin.

Dex laughed easily, “Most of my old job was field work. Cackling evilly behind a desk was my boss.” Settling down and straddling the bench, “Sounds like you need some practice. My military years were spent primarily in the cockpit, even with other… uh hobbies keeping me occupied I always found time to get my hours logged in at the range. Even after that it was habit by the time my military service was done. Much like exercise. Routine, consistency that lacks in so many other areas in my life.” Dex hummed pleasantly through her sub vocals, eyeing down her scope trying to find a good word to describe what it was she liked about spending time at the shooting range. “Comfort, yeah.” She took careful aim of her target.

“My hobbies have a habit of saving my life in one way or another,” She took three consistent shots at the target mid range, warming up. Two hit the inner rings of the bullseye. “Or causing trouble. Depends who you ask.”

She grinned at Tanya opening the conversation. “I remember you mentioning the trip to Terra Nova would be for your father’s memorial. He participated in the Relay 314 Incident? I was only...” She paused calculating the years, “17 CE years at the time, I think. Everyone was shitting their pants over some new aliens.”

Tanya was prone on the mat beside Dex’s bench, adjusting her optical settings. ”Were said hobbies the reason one of your arms attracts fridge magnets?” Tanya asked, taking aim at the 200m target, watching the little red circle adjust to the weather conditions and range. She put this on top of her target, which still looked large enough in the 3.5x magnification. Her thumb flicked up and knocked the fire selector to semi-automatic and inhaling, she put pressure on the trigger as she began to exhale, the rifle barking almost unexpectedly as it hit within 4 inches of the center of the target. ”18? I didn’t know you had nearly a decade on me. I was 9 when that all happened… when I lost my dad.” adjusting the scope’s settings, Tanya reacquired her target. ”Lieutenant-Commander Eric Carson, 4th Frontier Division, 6th Fleet. Commanded a cruiser that went down during the turian counter-attack, the reaction before you guys could mobilize your entire fleet. To think he only missed the ceasefire by… what, a week or so?” she asked, her rifle barking once more. The shot landed a couple inches higher and an inch closer.

“Nah, pirates did me in. Took a shotgun blast point blank at my shoulder. There are easier ways to get a new limb, shotguns are low on that list. My best friend is my engineer, he built the current model from scratch. Owe him my life.” She said lightly, peeking at the targets Tanya hit. “Not bad, I can see what you mean about the range for your rifle. A different barrel might help that accuracy some.”

“You make it sound like I’m ancient.” She commented with a chuckle. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry you lost your father to that stupid fucking battle. I think I’d lose my mind if anything happened to my family.” She said making eye contact with Tanya, sincerity hummed over her sub vocals but she hoped Tanya picked up on it.

”Barrel’s fine, thing’s rated out to 1.5 kilometers for an effective range. I just have squishy flesh that doesn’t lock in place like certain cyborgs do that help with my shot placement.” Tanya said, sighing, setting her rifle down and looking back at the turian. ”Yeah, I won’t lie, kinda sucked. I remember my dad pretty well, even though I was so young. I definitely wasn’t ready to say goodbye, you know?” she shook her head. ”Dad was the reason I got into the whole military thing, it’s been a long-running tradition for the men in the family going back well before the 20th century on Earth. He didn’t have a chance to have a boy, so I felt like I needed to take up the mantle, as much as that killed my mom. Well, partially that and home didn’t feel like home after my fiance died, so I wanted to get away for a while and figure things out.”

“Yeah I think I can understand. No real closure. Things that made home - home - disappeared for you. Here’s hoping whatever shit we run into out here in the black won’t fuck us up much worse than we are now. Generally speaking for myself of course…” Dex trailed off her mind wandering to the handful of stories she’s heard so far.

Dex aimed again breaking eye contact, moving her target past the 400 meter mark. “Your father sounds like an accomplished man. If you don’t mind my asking, what was your fiance like? I can imagine someone who could keep up with you.” She squeezed the trigger hitting the bullseye and subsequently two shots following that were blown off course by the stray wind. She muttered, “Fuck you, wind.”

A slight smile creased Tanya’s lips. ”Gary was colourful, full of life. Had a sense of optimism and invulnerability that made him seem immune to hardships, and nothing kept him down for long. He’s the one who really got me into vehicles, since he worked at the same shop I got hired onto and spent most of his time teaching me all of my basics. He was funny, crude as fuck, and we teased each other relentlessly.” Her smile faded and she stared at the ground, her chest rising and lowering in a slow breath. ”It felt like all the colour left the world after I lost him. Been trying to find it again, but it’s tough. I don’t know what he’d think of me if he saw how I turned out.” she admitted.

Dex didn’t take her eyes off the target, partially knowing if she looked at Tanya now she’d lose her train of thought. “If you were set to marry him I’d say he’d understand. People get married to people they don’t like all the time, by the sounds of it you two loved each other. Some understanding comes from that naturally.” She shot again hitting the target in the same sequence of three with success. “From the mess I saw earlier in the hangar with your painting, I’d say you’re well on your way.”

”Yeah well, he sure as hell didn’t sign on for a borderline alcoholic PTSD suffering asshole who ran away from home rather than try to stay home and try to do right by his family. I let a lot of people down. I just… I just think if he saw me now, he wouldn’t recognize me. I’m a different person now.” Tanya said, picking her rifle up and flicking the fire selector to burst. She let off a string of shots, not caring much if they grouped nicely. ”I only really started painting to kind of cope with shit, y’know? I’d always had an eye for details, and I took to it well. Sometimes it’s easier to come to terms with things that happen when you can pluck them out of your head and throw them onto a piece of canvas and sell them off to someone who thinks it has some sort of meaning. Fucking weird, I know.”

Dex let her Viper cool before taking aim again. “Convenient more than weird, spending money in exchange for your problems painted on a canvas. At least with your family, showing up for the memorial will be the right thing to do, help patch things up maybe. Fuck if I know. I hope it does for you.” She paused adjusting the magnification on her scope, peering for a target at 500 meters. “Can’t say much for Gary and what he would think about you, but change is inevitable. If you had met me twelve years ago, you would have met a turian with two organic arms. Some of us internalize that poison, paint it on a canvas or drink it away. We’re all coping in one way or another, right?”

“It’s sometimes easy to forget that everyone carries poison inside them in one form or another.” She thought about Galentos, sometimes she wanted things to go back to the way things were before. When she woke up everyday knowing what she had to do. It would mean swallowing his poison and saying thank you. Ignoring her own as well. “Regardless… I don’t have to tell you that.”

”I don’t think any of us doing this kind of work are really healthy, not really. We’re all coping with some serious and unsolvable shit, y’know? I know change happens, I accept that, but most of the time it’s… progressive, healthy. I don’t get through a night without having nightmares. I drink way too much because a numb mind helps me from thinking about this shit. I try not to let people too close to me so I don’t have to bring up the dead… it’s just one thing after another, and some really shitty coping strategies.” Tanya said, biting her lip. She decided to move her sights out to the 300m target.

”Mom kind of disowned me. She reluctantly gave her blessing for me to join the Alliance, and I left her back on Terra Nova alone, no family or anything. It took her husband from her and when I came back… well, I wasn’t the same person. It basically destroyed her and she never learned how to cope again. I don’t know if I’ll even see her at the memorial. I don’t care… I just want to say goodbye to my father.”

“Yeah, can relate to all too well, keeping things at arm's length. Came with the old job of course, couldn’t get attached to any of the crews I infiltrated. Thank you by the way, for not making this conversation a quid pro quo. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” She punctuated her sentence with a shot, the wind blowing off the shot again. “We’ll get you to Terra Nova for that memorial.” She leaned back and looked to Tanya.

”Look, I don’t like when people pry into my personal shit, so the courtesy goes both ways. I figure you’ll tell me what you want to when you’re ready. Besides, way I see it, you could have dug up all my dirty laundry given your history, but you chose not to because you want to respect boundaries and that. I respect you for that… and thanks.” Tanya said, popping off another pair of haphazardly-aimed shots. She really wasn’t trying; she was just enjoying the atmosphere.

Dex focused back onto her scope then smiled, her mandibles stretching. “You can wash your own dirty laundry. Fucking gross.” She joked, the equivalent of cackling rumbled out of her sub vocals. “I do try to respect boundaries. Somehow managed to find out more than I bargained for, at least in such a short amount of time. Vellios, Serena, Kho-” She rhymed the names off on her talons stopping herself before getting much farther. “You get the idea. Have had my fair share of emotionally draining conversations lately, even if I was digging for information on purpose this would have been an easy mark.”

“Then again it’s a sign of trust, at least… I like to think so. Can’t read minds.” She said chuckling along. “Maybe one day you’ll hear one of my esteemed secrets. They’re pretty juicy, sex scandals about strangers and cheating spouses. That’s just the entrance to the silver mine.” Hoping to distract away from her mention of Khosin.

It was impossible to miss the Khosin slip-up. Dex could have mentioned his name casually and Tanya wouldn’t have thought it off, but the fact she immediately tried to cover up her mention of the name aroused Tanya’s curiosity and a lingering sense of dread in her chest. Had Khosin confided something in Dex that would have been troublesome to know about? She wanted to believe he was a good guy who had the misfortune of being the same species as a shitload of literal monsters, but now there was that lingering doubt again… ”God, I really hope Iosif’s wrong about him… she thought pleadingly. Still, she decided to let it slip for now. It wasn’t worth wrecking a perfectly fine day with paranoia and suspicion.

”I’m pretty sure you name drop half the galaxy and I still wouldn’t have the foggiest clue of who the hell you were talking about. If you ever decide to share some deep dark secret, I hope it’s something about yourself rather than deflecting some billionaire tycoon with a VI fetish.” Tanya replied, setting herself back in behind the rifle.

Dex shrugged relaxing when Tanya didn’t jump on her slip, “My deep dark secrets are boring as it gets. Now that you mention a billionaire with a thing for VI’s... ” She set her Viper down and opened up her omnitool bringing up a picture of a Krogan from her archives, “Trudtar Qraxxi. A rival big wig wanted to out him and bring him down a couple pegs with some ridiculous secret. That secret was… a fetish for VI’s.” She sat cross legged then laughed remembering the mission. “It was so bad, his focus was on glitchy dirty talking VI’s. When I broke into his house on… I think it was on the Citadel. Yeah, his software was motion activated and I was greeted by the VI. I thought it was broken at first. Then when I went digging for hard evidence it just followed me everywhere telling me how much it wanted to-” Dex made a robotic glitching noise, “To f-f-fcksh-fuck me.” The turian laughed and hooted, much like she did the first time discovering it.

Tanya snorted, shaking her head and popping off another burst, the rounds smacking against the plate like someone threw a handful of marbles against it. ”The galaxy’s just full of all sorts of delightful assholes, isn’t it? Why in the hell did you hang onto that?”

“I hang on to every piece of information I have, usually the really important stuff and sometimes the completely ridiculous. It’s like a bad case of information hoarding now that I think about it.” She minimized her omnitool window and shrugged. “Some people collect heads, ears or objects as trophies and I collect data trophies I guess.”

”Uh-huh. Some people might think that’s serial killer behaviour.” Tanya chipped in with a grin.

“Databases beware! Dex will extract all your figurative data mines, reap what she shall sow.” Dex laughed taking up position again. “I’m the ghost story security techs tell each other on all nighters.”

Tanya smiled, propping herself up with a push up and returning to her feet, collapsing the rifle. She moved back towards her case, where there was foam cutouts for her rifle and sidearm, which she decided to get some trigger time on. ”I’m headed to the pistol range, care to join in? she asked, setting her rifle back into its spot and pulling out her Predator by the frame. ”So, Dex, all of this chatter and I never thought to ask you, what’s your family like, any siblings, things good with your parents?” she asked.

Dex nodded collapsing her Viper as well sliding it into its hardcase. Her pistol was on her hip in its holster. Grabbing the handle of the hardcase she lead the way over to the pistol range, there were a few other humans concentrating behind walled off single sections but there was a row of open paper targets.

She placed her hardcase against the wall behind them, pulling her own Predator out of the holster.

“I’m good with my parents, they’re alive and happy on Taetrus. Still doing what they’ve always done. I keep in touch with them when I can, they’re well aware of my dubious career choices. The only real thing I’ve ever been able to give back to my family has been good security.” Dex checked the thermals on her pistol before extending her arms and taking aim. “I’m the oldest of four, I’ve got two younger sisters and a brother. One sister is paired off and I have a couple nephews.”
“Family is really important to me, my priorities over the years have shifted pretty heavily but they remain near the top for me. Always.” Dex said her shoulders relaxing a little as she fired away at the targets.

Tanya considered this, wondering what it would be like having siblings, or if things would have been different if her relationship with her mother wasn’t so strained. Tanya double tapped a close target, 10 meters, and was decently satisfied with the shot placement. Pistols were a bitch to use at range. ”So, why not go home then? Do something closer to your family that doesn’t toss you out in the middle of nowhere where there’s a chance to getting killed and your body never returning home?” she asked, continuing firing in 2-second intervals, aiming for center mass.

Dex paused waiting for the thermals to cool and for Tanya to finish her shots. Considering her reply, “I miss them but not enough to live under their roof again.” Dex told a half-truth, squeezing out a chuckle. “Taetrus isn’t a hub of turian activity. It’s one of the many colonies that feeds the Hierarchy collective force.” She commented, hints of venom seethed through her sub vocals at mention of the Hierarchy. “Not much work for someone like me outside of the military.” She didn’t take her eyes off the target. She really did miss her family, she’d give her other arm to sit and have dinner with her family again. To breathe humid Taetrus air again, even help with chores she groaned about doing when she was a kid again. Like cutting back the overgrown vegetation. Return to something familiar. “Besides, I’m a bit too restless to settle in one place.”

”I… actually know exactly what you mean. With my skills, I could have taken over the shop like I was supposed to, or even do something on another world but… I chose this instead. I had to leave that life behind because it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. I guess I’m still figuring myself out.” Tanya replied, a frown creasing her lips.

Bringing her pistol down, Dex smiled relaxing considerably after talking about her family. Tanya didn’t need to know all the details but she was still on the same page. It was nice. “It isn’t easy but we have time yeah? Dodge a few bullets, get knocked around by some asshole biotic, then maybe get paid. Somewhere in between all that we might figure it out.”

”I guess we’re still trying to figure out that last one, huh?” Tanya asked, re-sighting her sidearm. The two fell into a comfortable silence, save for the chorus of sporadic gunfire, as they continued their drills well into the afternoon.

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

Be advised, @Dervish will be assuming direct control over the Kyne's Tear crew until further notice.

@gcold

A'righty, Kyne's Tear/ Bthamz boys and girls, update is a-go!

I'm going to forgo the dice mechanics for this first little bit, so here's what we're looking at:

-Approximately 70 Kamal aboard the frigate; usually frigates carry crews of 180+ men in old-naval times, but since this both a converted prison ship and Kamal are big boys who are abnormally large/ a giant pain in the ass to fight, we're knocking that number down sufficiently. It's going to be a hell of a fight for both the player characters and our faceless mooks/ NPCs, who have an advantage in both numbers and fire weaponry and that only about a quarter of the Kamal are wearing the kind of heavy armour we saw in the Windhelm siege, so they won't be nearly as brutal to fight, although they'll be much faster and have better spacial awareness. Comically huge weaponry still applies.
-The ballistas are still in operation and puncturing holes in the hull and setting small blazes when they manage to puncture. This will be a threat for anyone going below deck to watch out for.
-Other than the usual swords, shields, mauls, and spears, the Kamal also have javelin throwers in their midst and a small (about 10) battle mages, giving them ranged options. For obvious reasons, they won`t be using fire and mostly be using ice destruction spells, alteration, and some minor restoration spells on their pals.
-The captain of the ship is a towering asshole named Kghergitz who is decked out in plate armour, a full helm, and he has the distinction of being one of the very few people alive who dual wields maces. He laughs in the face of your puny armour/ skeletal structure

The goal of this mission is to kill 'em all and scuttle their ship.

Are you bad enough dudes to do that?

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

Kyne’s Tear, The Sea of Ghosts…

The raid had proved to be fruitful as the mercenaries had thoroughly plundered the armoury, electing to take the spoils topside and divvy up the loot equally amongst the crew, along with the Ashlander prisoners that had proved to be rather compliant after the brief, but brutal, skirmish that claimed the lives of their kin. Even Narivar had become much more docile after Sadri administered a through beating to force his fellow Dunmer upchuck the key he had swalled, and Madura had actually proven to be useful for a change keeping an eye on his brother and keeping him company and somewhat amicable now that family was involved. The two brothers, plus the Ashlander survivors, took the now-unclaimed Ashlander ship and sailed West with the intention of confronting the Nerevarine, a goal that most thought to be suicidal. While some were glad to see the pesky journalist gone, namely anyone who had been inconvenienced by him in a life or death situation, there was an undeniable sense of loss without his almost naive charm and optimism among the ranks.

All in all, outside of a few somewhat serious injuries suffered by the crew, the mission was a nice success, especially following the College of Winterhold debacle where their rescue ended up losing almost every mage they set out to pick up and nearly losing The Courtesan in the process.

Best of all were the four ballista that were labourously wheeled up to the surface using the same lift they had descended down from. The hard part was getting them aboard the ships, two a piece, which took a fair deal of effort and ingenuity with no small amounts of ropes , pullies and no small amount of manpower. The weapons and their munitions were secured to the decks of their respective ships, and the company was afforded an hour’s rest before setting sail once more, making way towards their next objective.

The seas had remained as agreeable as they had been before the landing, and the crew had largely felt like they managed to escape any unwanted encounters with Kamal vessels, although the fact that Niernen and Valen had just escaped from a Kamal prison ship and largely drifted back to safety by coincidence gave many a sense of apprehension; the enemy could not have been far off. Still, the sky remained fair, and the horizon remained clear; as far as the sailors were concerned, it was a perfect day, and they were making good time to Bleakrock Isle, despite the Westerly winds working against their sails. The company, in turn, had a chance for some much needed rest, and the technologically inclined scoured over the captured ballistas, figuring out how to crew the weapons and exactly how to operate them. As it turned out, it was somewhat more complicated than a crossbow, if for no other reason than the enormous scale, and no one rightly knew exactly how to aim or range the weapon. They’d require some target practice, and so a debate over the merits of expending precious projectiles over open water in case they were needed was waged amongst the leadership and weapons experts, who varied on opinions that varied between it is better to lose a few bolts to the waves than not know how to operate it in the event of a skirmish verses not having enough when the time came to use them. Eventually, a compromise was reached where the projectiles would be secured by lengths of ropes, which would hinder their ballistic performance somewhat, but it would enable the crew to pull the shots back in. As the ship sailed, icebergs and small isles would make due as makeshift, low-stake targets.

However, as most things in war tend to be, the uneventful peace was broken when up high in the crow’s nest of Kyne’s Tear came the bellowing of a war horn. A ship was sighted.

Hargjorn stomped from the bridge to the bottom of the mast, yelling up at the lookout. “What do you see?”

“Kamal ship, sir! Frigate, from the looks of it!” the voice called back.

True to the lookout’s word, from the port-stern came the now familiar and wholly haunting metallic-plated hull of the Kamal ship, which Niernen and Valen would have recognized as the very same prison ship they had escaped from earlier, thanks to the pirate raid. Evidentially, the captain of that particular vessel was not thrilled to have had his prisoners escape custody and using whatever nautical charts were available, likely retraced their metaphorical footsteps to Bthamz, the closest island, and pursued the trail to the next likely location; their allies’ outpost at Bleakrock Isle. Even for the non-nautically inclined, it was clear that the ship was gaining on the two Tamrielic vessels, and fast.

“We’ve got maybe an hour, two if we’re lucky. I’ve no damned idea how much that frigate displaces, or I’d try to lose it in the shallows, but that puts our ships in jeopardy of being beached.” Hargjorn growled to Ashav and Edith, who had joined him at the rear of the Tear, watching the enemy vessel’s dark silhouette on the horizon, hunting them.

“Then we’d really be in a mess.” Ashav observed.

“More like right fucked.” Hargjorn corrected. “We can’t use the terrain and we can’t outrun ‘em, so it looks like things are about to get messy.”

“I’ll rally the company, let them know we’re expecting visitors.” Edith said, turning to get everyone prepared for battle.

A bit over an hour later, the first shots were fired from the Kamal ship, which had come within a close enough distance, perhaps a league, of the two ships, which had prepared the ballistas to be fired off the port side for the Tear, and starboard for the allied ship. For this, captain Karena had taken the helm while Hargjorn was busy barking orders at the ballista crew and sailors while also seeing to the distribution of weapons and equipment, including crudely cast fire salt hand bombs, for the fighting men in the event of a boarding action.

The first shots, massive ice spikes from the bow of the ship, landed just short of the Tear Forcing both vessels to turn opposite of each other, making the Kamal captain have to pick his target carefully. As luck would have it, for the Tear, at least, the ship began to pivot in pursuit of the escort ship, which launched both of its ballista, which thudded into the hull of the Kamal ship near the bow; from the ropes tailing from the shots, the captain of that vessel had evidentially elected to try and negate the frigate’s ability to maneuver by pulling it by the ropes, which were secured to starboard forward breast line and forward spring mooring points, iron hooks that were used to fasten the ship to dock, but now were used to hold onto the Kamal vessel while the crew loaded a follow-up volley.

“Aim for their aft! They do not have firing ports there!” Hargjorn yelled to the Tear’s ballista crews as the ship came around side of the Kamal vessel, which launched a salvo of spikes at the ship as it passed, tearing holes in the sails and puncturing the hull high above the water line; the turning motion of the ship gave the deck somewhat of a tilt that likely saved it from worse damage, including taking on water.

The escort ship was not so lucky, as it turned out, as near its bow were three sizable holes that were at or just above the water line; it was taking on water, and the lines that were fastened to the enemy vessel was dragging the front down somewhat, dipping the hull breach below the waves as the ship was pulled around. The Tear could ill afford to worry themselves with their comrades, as the battle required precise timing, and luck, that could not afford patience.

“FIRE!” Hargjorn yelled, and the heavy twang of both ballista shook the deck as the ropes sailed beyond the over-sized bolts that cracked into the wood near the cabin. “Pull us in, boys! Let’s get these bastards back for Windhelm, for Winterhold!”

A roar of approval and anger rang out across the deck as the crew, six for each line, pulled the Tear towards the Kamal vessel, which was trapped between the two ships, the escort vessel’s crew trying to pull themselves closer to the frigate, both to bring their men into fighting position, and to have a chance at saving their ship. Whatever the reason, the effect was practically acting as an anchor for the Kamal frigate, which wasn’t able to turn to face either ship. Archers on both company decks loosed at heads that dared peak over with flaming arrows, ignited from braziers that had been fastened to the deck in an eventuality of combat with the Kamal once more; likewise, the ballista crew was busy loading thick-oil coated bolts into the weapons that were ignited prior to firing, flinging flaming and penetrating projectiles into the hull of the ship. It was through hard-earned experience that the Kamal hated and were rather vulnerable to fire, something that Do’Karth was certain Niernen was more than eager to demonstrate on the snow demons that had held her prisoner. When the hulls collided, assault ladders were brought out and fastened to the ship, which sat higher up than either Tamrielic vessel due to its much larger size. The grenadiers were first up, covered by archers, and a lobbed volley of fire salt bombs flew over the gunwale, igniting with a brilliant blast and a chorus of inhuman screams. Climbing higher yet, a second volley was tossed, with similar results. Shortly after the detonation, and taking advantage of the confusion and agony of the Kamal defenders, most of whom weren’t in their heavy armour due to fear of drowning, the boarding party climbed aboard the enemy vessel, in for a fight they weren’t entirely certain they could win.

“Rozalia, Sagax, I have an important assignment for you two. It is dangerous, and potentially fatal, but after what I witnessed in Windhelm, I trust no one else to have the… talent to pull this off.” Ashav said to the dynamic duo, both of whom had earned something of a reputation of being an invincible, and questionably sane, suicide squad. Lined up in a crate were a bundle of canvas satchels, along with a few sets of fire starters. “These are arcane charges, they work similarly to the fire salt bombs, but on a much grander scale. Note the length of the fuses; that should give you enough time to clear the detonation radius safely while not affording the enemy much time to react.” He pointed to the holes that were opened in the frigate’s hold. “You need to get the charges in there. I leave it up to you if you want to board the ship to reach your marks, or to commandeer one of our dingies for this, but I need this done.”

“Niernen! Valen!” Do’Karth called to the two Dunmer companions. “This one has a plan, but he needs your assistance.” The Khajiit said, looking between them and back to the Kamal frigate. “Do’Karth wants to get to the prisoners on that ship and release them, both to help us with the fight, and to give them a chance at escape if things… do not go according to plan. You both understand what the Kamal are capable of, and you are familiar faces to them. This one hopes there is a sense of trust that comes with that amongst the prisoners when they see you have returned. Do’Karth does not know where the prisoners are kept, but you both do. Will you help him do this?” he asked.

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

I've been eyeing this RP for quite some time. Just letting y'all know you're doing fine jobs^^

@POOHEAD189

Yer stalkin' me!

:[

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

Guess who has been hard at work for the past few hours? This guy.

So, since the Guild likes to go down a lot, and Guildfall taught us that it can go down for quite a long time, I've taken it upon myself to archive Fruits of Contention. I've started a Gmail account specifically for the job, and the account's Google Drive serves as this roleplay's "library".

So far I've archived the raw text of: everyone's characters; the OPs of the IC, OOC, and Character tabs; the World Information post; the character sheet and character-building references(equipment limitations, skills and weaknesses, and guidelines); the summary, and the first two pages of IC posts(forty posts in total...was not the most exciting thing in the world). I'm also saving snapshots of the IC pages through the use of archive.is, just so we have both the raw version and the final product of each post.

For now I'm going to put archiving the OOC on the backburner, because that's 4k+ posts and lolfuckthatshit.

Consider this my(very) belated birthday present to all of you guys and Fruits of Contention.

@Frizan

You dah real MVP!

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

@jasonwolf Lev's got his shit on lockdown, mostly because he is the definition of the guy who is like, "This is my original character, don't steal".

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

More story time with Lev!

It's 100% accurate, I promise.

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

"Hurt?" The question caught Lev off guard, both because he could not recall a time anyone had thought to ask a Poe how it felt, and also he wasn't entirely sure he felt pain like a Hylian would... or anything with squishy bits, for that matter. "I... I don't think so? It's complicated. Like, it's not like I can bleed or anything to be like, 'Oh hey Lev, you should stop letting that thing do that thing to you'. I don't even know if I can take lasting harm. Best I figure, something can hurt me enough to break the bonds of my physical form, and whatever binds me together eventually puts the pieces back in place and I can come back. Happened to me once before... I don't think I cared for that particular sensation." he said, rubbing the back of his head, suddenly feeling awkward. Apparently having someone to talk to for the first time in ages made you spill your life story.

He cheered up a bit at her apology, finding it something ridiculous for her to fret over. "Look, I don't think any of us are in our element here. I know I basically look like this place is my summer home, but this place even creeps me out. Last thing I was expecting was flying rodents. It just so happens I'm particularly good at dealing for this kinda situation. I'm sure we'll run into a situation where you'll be the best suited for it! Maybe we'll run into a big, scary fish you can wrangle. Don't worry; I'll make sure you look good in the end." he said, gesturing to the tackle box before plucking out his notebook, scribbling some notation.

The Great Fairy had bestowed upon the travelers a great responsibility, for they would all be tasked with rising to Hyrule's need in this most dire hour with the absence of the Hero who had vanished when the world needed him most. The travelers found steel in their hearts after watching the Sheikah receive their blessing from Farore, and each in turn received the blessing to bestow upon them aspects of Courage, Wisdom, and Power in equal measure; they would need every ounce of it for the perilous journey ahead.

...

Deep into the maw of the Shadow Temple lay a precious artifacts that Farore had left in the care of the Sheikah Tribe for when the Royal Family needed salvation, and it would be their responsibility to fetch it, but the paths were many and winding; there was no choice but to separate the travelers down each separate paths according to the blessing they received from Farore. Down the left path went the bearers of Power, the essence of Din, and with great confidence they plunged into the darkness, knowing they had the strength to overcome any obstacle. The travelers

Jaege, a humble Ordon rancher who found his adopted daughter Veitaru floating down a river when he was grazing his herd of goats, carried within him the strength of a great warrior from his decades of service as a Royal Guardsman, skills he would pass on to Veitaru in time... although the time he thought he had had quickly arrived with the Goddess' mission.

Noi, a Goron who had suffered greatly at the hands of Wizrobes had had crude metal plating bolted to his body as he was tortured to the point of muteness in an effort to create a weapon so devious it could breach any fortification's walls. They had succeeded in that; Noi's strength was unparalleled by any in Hyrule, including others of his kin and the mighty Darknuts of the Western mountains. What they had not anticipated was Noi's resolve; he broke free of their ensnaring curse and broke his way out of their dungeons, freeing himself in time for Farore to find him. In his journey, he would find salvation from the darkness that had ensnared him.

And finally, there was humble Felicia, and orphan girl who raised her younger sister alone, keeping them fed through little more than a fishing line and a hope for a better future for both of them. Not a warrior like Jaege or Noi, or even young Veitaru, Felicia nevertheless answered the call, knowing that if she did not have the strength to act now, there would not be a tomorrow for her sister, so selflessly she pressed forward, knowing she may never see her again.

As the travelers of Power traversed the crypt-like halls of the Shadow Temple, they knew something was watching them with malicious intent and hunger. When they were their most vulnerable, ghouls most foul, the damned souls trapped forever in the halls of the Shadow Temple as ReDead descended upon them, intend to dine upon the flesh of the living that dared trespass in their domain. Noi and Jaege struggled valiantly, crushing them with hammer and greatsword alike, tearing their putrid bodies asunder, but still they came.

When things looked their most dire, it was Felicia who knew what had to be done; bravely tuning out the ghouls around her in prayer, she called upon Din's strength to deliver them from evil so they could complete their quest, knowing that the real battle was still to be had. Suddenly, from her clutched fists emerged a great wall of flame, engulfing the tunnels and the ReDead within, but leaving the travelers untouched. Soon the way was clear, and the travelers pressed on, knowing that more dark things awaited ahead...

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

<Snipped quote by Dervish>

maybe they're into big burly hairy folks

maybe we could paint jorwen white and make him infiltrate the kamal ranks

@Peik

This should do the trick.