Avatar of Dervish
  • Last Seen: 12 mos ago
  • Old Guild Username: Dervish
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
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    1. Dervish 12 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
Current Remember, nobody actually enjoys roleplaying if there isn't at least five shameful fetishes uncovered by the 2nd page.
5 likes
7 yrs ago
Somebody stole my mood ring. I don't know how to feel about it.
14 likes
7 yrs ago
Let's be honest, it's far more satisfying and challenging to actually imagine what a character looks like than paste a hundred gifs of a celebrity and call it good.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
So, a team of players who are good at playing as a team in a team-based game are individually bad players. Seems kind of silly when you put it like that, no?
8 likes
7 yrs ago
My goal these days is to have an RP that can actually finish, or the very least, last a few years. I see way too many die on page one to take chances
4 likes

Bio



Lowering the site's value since January 2012.


Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by Dervish>

I also hate snow IRL and had to shovel it recently, so admittedly I had a grudge while writing.


It's like -22 and we're getting like 15cm of snow by Sunday morning. It's snowed every weekend for 7 weeks now. :/

Fuck that white stuff.
The common thread for our adventurers so far is, "Miss me with that white shit."

It was quarter to eight in the evening by the time the cab pulled into the gates of the Cornack Manor, a newer Peugeot that was driven with pride by a man who had served in the merchant navy during the war and had saved his money to afford the vehicle. He claimed driving was his passion and years of being trapped on a large ship without feeling the ground beneath his feet helped put things in perspective for him. While the driver was a friendly man and it certainly helped pass the drive from Birmingham to Derbyshire, Lucian DuBois had rather wished for a few moments to his own thoughts as he stared out the window at the hated white power that engulfed the countryside like some form of evil marmalade that sucked the warmth and comfort from the world around it. Even with a fur-lined coat and thick gloves, the chill seemed to seep through the layers like tendrils that wished to finish what it started in the trenches over a decade ago. The Frenchman pulled his arms tighter around his waist, despising seeing his own breath and suddenly very much so missing the tropical climate he’d grown rather accustomed to.

Mercifully, the car pulled up to the front doors of the commanding stone-walled mansion that was likely worth more than Lucian would see in a lifetime. The driver hopped out before Lucian did and immediately had the trunk open, pulling free the duffle bag and suitcase that had been his customer’s possessions and once paid his fare, took off back into the night, quite merrily given the abysmal weather and the fact he had another close to two hour trip back to Birmingham. Lucian shouldered the duffle bag, supporting it by a strap and picking up the suitcase with another as he approached the door, which opened before him to show a dapper man he assumed was the butler.

“Monsieur DuBois, I presume?” The impeccable enunciation came from beneath a neatly trimmed mustache. Lucian nodded affirmatively. “Allow me to bid you welcome on behalf of Master Cornack. With your permission, I will take your coat and luggage for you. There are already some of your compatriots waiting in the banquet hall.” He said with a gesture.

Lucian had set his bags down and had removed his coat, folding it nicely over an arm for the butler to take. “Merci…” Lucian said, his voice trailing off invitingly.

“Bertram.” The man replied with a polite bow. Lucian nodded appreciatively.

“Bertram.” Lucian repeated. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

With that, Lucian adjusted the sleeves of the thick green wool sweater he wore and the sky blue scarf about his neck and proceeded down the corridor, only sparing the most minute glances towards his surroundings. He felt it prudent to not gawk like a tourist while a guest in someone’s home, and he had never been one to indulge in the ostentatious.

The banquet hall opened up before him, and the few bodies that occupied it seemed to be lost in the magnificently large room, which would have been much more suitable for hosting a wedding reception than conduct a business meeting, for which Lucian felt a study would have been a far more adequate space. There was another man, younger than him by a few years who looked like he hailed from the Mediterranean, like a Sicilian or Greek. Lucian offered the man a courteous nod before taking in the fetching Indian woman in quite a marvelous blue dress; Lakshmi simply always carried herself like a woman who belonged in film, or mingling with the upper crust of society. It made the short, but warm, history between the two of them all the more curious. Whereas she was a woman of exotic origin who had always carried herself with an air of proper aristocratic flare and carried a carefully cultivated appearance that commanded attention, Lucian was always a man of practicality and some might have described it as rustic charm. City life had long ceased to have much charm for the Frenchman as he detested crowds of soft, clueless people who had never connected with the natural world, except for throwing stones at pigeons, maybe. As such, he dressed for comfort and casual attire most of the time; he could not recall the last time he had worn a tie.

Lucian approached Lakshmi, taking her hand and gently kissing it through his thick beard. “Lakshmi, a pleasure. I do hope you have been in good health and fortune since our last meeting.” Lucian said as a greeting before taking a seat two spots down from her to give her a respectful distance that still made conversation easy. He adjusted in his seat, pulling it closer to the table and folding his hands on the tablecloth.
Against All Odds & Family Secrets



A chaotic collab between @Dervish and @Macabrefox. with the briefest, most epic appearance from @DearTrickster

With each stride, her chest burned with fire, sweat poured down her temples, slicking her auburn hair against her forehead. She had become lost within the winding city, she felt as if she were running circles. Who in their right mind could have ever thought building a city this massive was a good idea? She never had a problem navigating cities, then again Markarth and Solitude seemed much smaller than the Imperial City. A hard lump in her throat put her on the verge of breaking down, and giving up. The Dwemer would surely get her, she would die in this city, and all of the things she would never get to do flooded through her as she came to a stop in an alleyway.

She would never have a lover, never travel to see High Rock, or reveal to Rorik what really happened all those years ago to Iona. That Brynja was the one responsible— her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as a peculiar sound caught her attention. At first she feared it was some Dwarven spiders or spheres coming for her, though that fear was soon vanquished when she could hear soft whispers coming from the opposite direction of the alleyway. Brynja flattened herself against the wall as best she could, craning her neck in the general area of the soft approach of footsteps, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

Daro’Vasora and Judena, although invisible to the eye thanks to Zegol’s potions that were running low, had turned the corner and immediately caught sight of one terrified and lost Brynja. The Khajiit mulled over her next step for a moment, not wanting to spook the Nord who couldn’t see who was approaching.

“Brynja, it’s Daro’Vasora and Judena. Don’t freak out; we’re invisible.” she said from several meters away. The last thing she’d want is for Brynja to react and run her through with a sword by mistake.

Brynja couldn’t believe her eyes, quite literally. She could hear Daro’Vasora’s voice, who claimed she was with Jude, yet she couldn’t see either of them. Her brows sunk low, as she stared in the general direction of the voices. It was clearly Vasora’s voice, that much was certain.

Judena followed Daro’Vasora’s lead, “Bryan, I mean- Brynja yes. I am happy to see you are alright… relatively speaking of course. As we are as well.”

Judena took a few steps closer, ready to jump clear of a swing. “Have you seen or heard from anyone else?” Judena shouldered her pack, noticing her invisibility beginning to fade across her hands.

“I-” And before her very eyes, Brynja could see Judena, or at least her hands, so it was them!, “I haven’t. I got swept up in the chaos... I tried to find a way out of this cursed city, but I’m lost. Again.” Her shoulders sagged in relief. Hope had been restored. She didn’t even mind that Judena had called her Bryan.

“Perhaps it was luck you were lost, the Dwemer seem to be spreading out from their landing point. Together we can survive the day.” Judena reassured the Nord. “Would it be worth visiting Rhea’s home to look for supplies before attempting to leave the city? Perhaps others are taking shelter there.”

Judena appeared to be calm and focused. It helped not focusing on the destruction, death and damage they had passed by. The Argonian promised herself time to grieve for her city once they escaped. There was always hope that one day, one day she could possibly return. It was undoubtedly never going to be the same. Vainly hoping the University would remain intact.

Daro’Vasora watched as the spots and grey hue of her fur began to materialize again with an outstretched arm. She had a hard time adjusting to not seeing where her feet were falling, and she was glad Brynja hadn’t been around to witness her stumbling over the past half hour until she got used to the sensation. “I think it would be good to get off the street and make a plan. If anyone else survived or were looking for a place to regroup, Rhea’s manor would be a good place to start. There has to be more than just the bridge out of the city as a way to escape. I know the way, so if that’s the plan, let’s not linger.” she said, trying to focus on the job at hand and not thinking about her very raw loss. She just felt numb; the real pain would come later, she knew.

“Let’s go.” Brynja said with a nod of her head, she didn’t want to wait around any longer.

Judena nodded slowly, waiting for her friends to take the lead while Judena covered the rear.
~~~

It was slow going across the district, even though it was only a few blocks from where they’d found Brynja. They’d run into a few of the survivors in the back alleys, caught a few people peering from windows, and despite the sound of the battle having died down, there were still quite a number of people who had so far avoided death or capture. They came upon the mansion quickly enough, deciding not to take the chance of knocking on the door or window and instead Daro’Vasora went ahead, careful to avoid prying eyes or patrols, and set out to pick the back lock so she was concealed from the streets. Within a few seconds, she was gesturing for the others to join her, and the door was opened enough for them to slip in and closed behind them.

It was a welcome relief, to be inside and off the streets, though they weren’t anywhere far from danger. Brynja lingered by the door after it had been shut, where was Rhea? Had she escaped the city? Had she been caught up in the bloodbath in the streets? At the moment, it felt as if the mansion was holding its breath.

Deciding it best to keep silent until they knew if the house was safe, the trio made their way through the ornate halls of the manor with its smooth stone walls, candle chandeliers, plaque mounted weaponry, and near the front foyer, a mannequin in a complete suit of armour. The front doors look like they were intact, so at least that meant nobody broke in.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” A voice called from above. Up a stairwell, Rhea had been watching, and a bow had been trained on the intruders until she identified them. The Imperial woman laughed lightly, almost inaudibly, as she made the way down the stairs with fitted carpet towards them.

“I am overjoyed to see you all safe, I’ve held tight in anticipation for someone arriving, anyone really. I do hope the others are safe, although… I dare not hope too much.” she said, reaching the bottom landing and looking somehow relieved yet troubled all at once.

Daro’Vasora shook her head, deciding to take a moment to rest by leaning against the railing and crossing her arms perhaps a bit too tightly. She didn’t trust her hands to be still. It hadn’t been all that long ago she held Zegol’s dead body in her arms; the pain was just damned numbing.

“I don’t think we can expect anyone else. It’s nearly evening and the city is in chaos. We’ve all seen the danger we’re in…” She spoke, her voice had begun to waver and she clamped her eyes shut, trying to suppress the anguish that coursed through her blood. “How do we get out?”

Brynja snorted lightly, “I’ll leave the escape plans to you. I spent the last three hours running in a circle around this forsaken maze.”

“We go underground, there are a few of us who call this city home. Gaius, myself, Daro’Vasora, and you of course Rhea.” Judena offered, bringing her pack into her hands. “Daro’Vasora is correct. With nightfall, I hope others take to the shadows for safety. Latro and Meg carry crude maps I made for them. Now we have a little time to catch our breaths, plan our next steps.”

“Brynja you did well to survive, you can trust us to find a safe way to escape.” Judena nodded at the Nord. “You have my word.”

Judena hoped her small reassurance could help.

If anything soothed Brynja’s worries about escaping the city, it was Judena’s comforting words that the best way to escape would be to go underground. She shifted with a bit of discomfort under the weight of her armor, and managed a weak nod of acceptance.

Rhea smiled, the smallest upturn of the lips to contrast her stressed and wide eyes. “As it happens, there’s a way out in this very manor, one I’d hoped to forget and why it relates to my family’s fortunes. Follow me.” she said, leading the others through the foyer, and down the hall into the library, a room filled with towering eight-foot bookshelves and a number of artifacts, as well as decor that seemed to elude to a well-traveled wealth. Rhea moved to the edge of a row of 3 shelves and crouched beside the one on the right, putting her hand on one of the planks of wood and pushing it towards the shelf, where it slid a few inches, letting her grab it with her hand and pull it free. A track was visible in the now exposed gap, and it became clear that the shelf moved. Grabbing the edge of the shelf, Rhea pulled it across the track, exposing a dark passageway that was almost wide enough for someone to slip through without angling their shoulders.

“This leads to the dock, or more accurately, underneath them since it connects to one of the storm drains. My family took advantage of the chaos and confusion of the rebuilding during the Oblivion Crisis to dig this tunnel for smuggling purposes, since nobody would look twice at someone carrying tools or barrows full of dirt in those days given the entire city was damaged. It was originally to avoid customs, or to buy and sell contraband, but during the Great War, my family smuggled in supplies during the siege… for a price.” Her jaw tightened and rolled angrily.

“My father and mother took advantage of the sick and starving, and bled them dry for coin, just so they could get rich while exploiting a tragedy. Everything I had I was given to as a child off of the backs of how many people who were forced to live and die on the streets, because my family are no better than gods damned Daedra. I’m sorry,” she said, her expression softening, embarrassment crossing her features. “I just have tried all of my adult life to try and make the Valerius name something I can live with, and maybe be proud of.”

“So, why not open your doors and let others know about it? People are trapped in the city.” Daro’Vasora pointed out. It wasn’t an accusation; she knew that if she were in that position, she probably wouldn’t have found altruism to be her strong suit.

Rhea sighed, sitting on the arm of a reading chair. “Fear, I suppose?” She admitted. “If I called people to flee, the home would be ransacked, and I’ve too much pride to allow things I’ve spent so much of my life acquiring to be taken, and large numbers of people would draw attention. I don’t suppose you are under any illusion of what could happen if spiders or spheres got in the tunnels after people, and the exit would become rather obvious. We need to leave when it is dark, and hopefully others show up.”

Daro’Vasora nodded, deciding to look over some of the titles on the shelf. She didn’t respond.

Judena fidgeted with her nails, what Rhea and her family did with property and resources was for their own reason to call. “You are quite honest, Rhea. I did not assume there was such a pathway through the manor here. That is the boon we will use to our advantage. As for now, I feel like I would like to keep busy. I do not like to sit still.”

Judena spared a look at Daro’Vasora’s back. The argonian felt her friend could use some privacy but she found it difficult to read her as she was. What could she need in her time of fresh loss?

She coughed into her hand, “Rhea, to pass the time I would like to start gathering supplies for our escape. I would need help and would like some company.”

Judena looked to Brynja then Daro’Vasora. “With your permission of course.”

“Whatever help you need, it is mine to give.” She said with a nod of her head. It was an odd story, Brynja thought, of course wealth could be acquired in all manners. She had never expected that Rhea of all people, or rather her family, would have resorted to sordid ways to acquire wealth. Then again, acquiring wealth meant there to be an exploitation of some sort or the other, right?

Rhea nodded with permissiveness. “Alright, we’ll find a few packs and see what we can make use of.” She paused, giving the room a pensive stare. “Who knows if I’ll ever see this place again.” she muttered with sudden realization.

“You three go on. I’ll wait down here, see if someone else arrives.” Daro’Vasora added quietly, not making eye contact with anyone. She needed the space and the time for her own thoughts, and fortunately no one raised an objection. With something akin to a plan formulated, Rhea lead Brynja and Judena upstairs, leaving the Khajiit alone with the books and the all too recent memories.




For those trapped in the city, the one upside to the predicament was that the Dwemer forces could not be everywhere at once, and although it seemed like reinforcements came in by the hour on new airships, it was still possible to slink through most of the streets unnoticed, even by the automata. More discerningly, however, was that the gateways between different districts were among the first places to be blockaded and staging grounds were established near these spots.

Those at the docks had the easiest time of making a plan; get on a boat and leave, or chance a swim across Lake Rumare, which wasn’t entirely out of the question for those of sufficient athletic ability. Other spots had escape tunnels hidden away in reconstructed sections of the outer walls, a conscious choice made after the Imperial City had endured one of the worst sieges in history and having a singular way into or out of the city meant supplies could get choked off. There were only but a handful of these escape routes, and they were only known by the garrison and the builders, but those who had survived or evaded capture were beginning to take steps to opening these passages for any who could arrive without drawing attention. In the Arboreum District by the Arcane University, a guard sergeant named Galius has d sent his men to locate survivors, and lead them to the escape route he had secured, using the urban woodland to conceal movement and avoid being spotted from the skies. It may be the best escape opportunity for anyone in the Southeast of the city.

Most interestingly and perhaps most efficiently, some of the mages at the Arcane University and the priests at the chapels spread across the city were well versed in summoning portals, sometimes used to connect the various places of worship across Cyrodiil to aid pilgrims or clergy without risking the often dangerous highways in days of old. While these practices had largely fallen out of favour and the skills behind them had largely been forgotten, and the magical anchor points that had once been predominant hundreds of years ago had fallen out of use and may not remain intact. Still, in the Temple District, Sister Layanna thinks believes she has managed to create a stable portal that connects to The Great Chapel of Julianos in Skingrad. Without anyone having returned, there’s no way of knowing for sure where it leads, but it has not stopped dozens of people from escaping this way. Similarly, in the Elven Garden District, a man named Calix who claims to have been a traveling mage with dreams of reorganizing and reforming the Mages Guild claims he can open up a portal outside of the city, but he’s not entirely sure where it opens up, but he gathers it’s a much preferable option to going up and asking the Dwemer if they could leave.

@Dervish I thought of a decent idea. They could have met on separate expeditions that were headed for the same place and decided to team up for survival/extra help/whatever. That way Lucian is only working with a German circumstantially.


I love it! That's a great idea that fits the spirit of this kind of game nicely. :D I'll mull over some ideals woth that and PM you hopefully tomorrow at some point!
<Snipped quote by Dervish>

I think her father is highly pragmatic man, and has no qualms about hiring or working with the most qualified people, regardless of nationality. Ultimately it is up to you, Lucian is your character after all, I just had a suggestion :)


Sure, let's brainstorm some ideas. :)
Your character could have worked with my character's father in the past or something along those lines, although I don't know how the Great War would have affected things. @Dervish


I think that kind of depends on what her father's journeys were like, Lucian has worked pretty much exclusively out of French territories and he would probably be somewhat reluctant to deal with German men after the war, but it's not exactly impossible if you have some ideas in that regard!
I'm always down for more connections if anyone fancies.
<Snipped quote by Dervish>

I can see France happening for sure, she does like to travel.


We could work with that. Friends!
<Snipped quote by Dervish>

Both. Either or.


Would Lakshmi made her way to France or Western Africa, by chance? There could be an association with our characters there.
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