Dervish

Asking Someone Else for RP?

I don't see why not. You could always post an interest check outlining what you're after, or directly ask somebody. It's not as weird as you'd think, it's not much different than asking someone if they'd like to be a player. All the RPs I GM, I ask people I know if they'd like to be a co-GM and they usually say yes.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Two posts in one day? Dervs (and Soul), you shouldn't have!

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

A collab with Souliolio and myself! ABOUT THE BAD GUYS! HOLY SHIIIII-
Governor’s Palace, Helgathe, 17th Rain’s Hand…

Governor Razlinc Rourken’s study and conference room was a tidy and orderly space with a high ceiling supported by a pair of ornate pillars, access to a balcony, and several windows to let the warm breeze into the room. Against one wall was a large table with a map of Hammerfell with flag pins and quartz pieces adorning it, evidentially the locations of dwemer influence and insurgent activity. On the opposite side lay a pair of doors that lead to a bed chamber, although visitors weren’t likely to be aware of that fact past the heavy wooden door, carved in typical Redguard style. Across the floor lay a long rug from the entrance to the desk, which had three gilded chairs on the one side and a high-backed chair on the other, back towards the balcony. Otherwise, the room was sparse, containing only what was necessary, except for a potted jade plant in the corner, an unceremonious intruder on the proceedings.

Razlinc sat with fingers crossed, hands resting on her lap as she studied the altmer across from her. Erincaro Syintar, emissary of the 2nd Aldmeri Dominion and a Justicar of the Thalmor. Unlike many of his kind, Erincaro wore a neatly trimmed beard and the harsh lines of age that crossed his face gave him a distinguished and not all untogether unpleasant appearance, something of an accomplishment given altmer all seemed to be hereditarily born to appear arrogant. The man offered a terse smile in opening.
“On behalf of the Thalmor and Queen Lelyanya, I thank you for granting me an audience. The 2nd Aldmeri Dominion would like to convey that it fully recognizes the legitimacy of the dwemer claim of Volenfell and would like to seek former relationships between our states.” Erincaro said. Razlinc raised her chin slightly, taking in the altmer’s opening. The Dominion must have made up their minds fairly quickly upon discovering the return of the dwemer, and must have been uncertain of their chances if the dwemer turned their war machine against them. After all, if the Empire fought the Dominion to a truce, and that same Empire had its capital ceased within a day, then it was best not to press one’s luck. It was appeasement in the guise of goodwill.

“House Rourken was always one of dialog. We certainly will listen to what an emissary has to say, even if his presence is most unexpected.” She said. “And what is it that the Dominion seeks from Volunfell?”

“Trade, naturally. Now that the Asecean Sea is under our control, a route can easily be established between Alinor and Volunfell, and the Dominion believes our two cultures have much we can exchange. Secondly, diplomatic relations and a military truce leading up to a former alliance. The altmer and bosmer have long been staunch allies against the encroaching threat of the ignorance of humanity, and your people were the staunchest enemy the Nords faced when they settled what is now Skyrim from Atmora. While we naturally would not want to impede upon your sovereignty, it has not escaped notice that there is a wide land the dwemer have reclaimed and the Dominion would be able to offer troops and ships in interest of helping quell any uprisings you may be dealing with. The third is a request for the Dominion to be permitted to allow Justicars and embassies be established in Volunfell in interest of seeking out practitioners of the fake-god Talos. We find it a great insult to the Eight that men have risen one of their own to be of equal, if not greater, worship than the true Divines and this must not be allowed to stand. We will not interfere with dwemer matters of state, but as a good will gesture, we do make this request.” Erincaro said.

Razlinc offered a terse smile. “No.”

That clearly what Erincaro was not expecting. “No?! What in Obli-“ he began angrily.

The Governor raised her hand to silence him. “Absolutely no Thalmor government officials will be permitted free reign of the lands and cities. It is not in our interest to allow almer, bosmer, or khajiit agents to wander freely. We have our own issues to contend with the locals; the last thing we need is for foreign influence to subvert their expectations. There’s also the lingering animosity amongst the Redguard about your earlier invasion, and I cannot rightly deny them that. I represent the will of the people of Volunfell; dwemer, Redguard, and all others alike. The suggestion we would want armed armies occupying our land is insulting, to say the least, let alone Justicars that will persecute Volunfell citizens because if offends your easily offended sensibilities. The dwemer worship no gods, if you have forgotten, Justicar Syintar, but that does not mean our other subjects do not. Perhaps if you weren’t too busy oppressing other provincial cultures; you would realize that it is much easier to occupy foreign land if they do not feel their way of life is being threatened. Arresting them for believing in a Divine you do not agree with is an abhorrent practice.” She rose from her desk, slender hands resting flat against the surface. “What we will allow, however, is Dominion merchant ships to make port and sell their wares, but the crews will not be permitted past the harbour districts of any city. These are the terms you will have to accept if you wish to begin relations with the Province of Volunfell. My guards will see you to your room, Justicar. Give what I said some thought over some much deserved rest. You must be weary from your travels.”

The Justicar looked like he wanted to press the issue, anger was clearly present in his eyes, but he caught himself. He also rose, bowing. “Of course. Once more, the audience you have granted has been a generous offering to the Thalmor. We are certain, in time; you will come to an agreement with us.”

“Unlikely.” Razlinc said as her guards approached from the doors to see Erincaro out. Her aid, a young dwemer in his early 30s came into the room as the rather irritated altmer was escorted out, his youthful enthusiasm abundant. He offered Razlinc a cup and saucer of stepped tea, a favorite of hers from after a meeting. His timing was such that it was still hot, but not enough to be undrinkable until it cooled. Good lad. “Make sure to have the Captain of the guard know to keep an eye on the Justicar for his stay here. I do not trust his intentions. What do you have for me?” she asked, sipping from the cup.

“Major Kerztar of the Ministry of Order had arrived this morning. We have waved your other appointments, as you requested his priority, Governor. He is here to see you.” The youth replied dutifully.

“Ah, perfect. Please send him in, and prepare some more tea for our esteemed guest. Then, if there’s nothing pressing that cannot wait until the morrow, take the rest of the evening off. You’ve been working yourself hard. You deserve some leisure time.” She said with a smile.

Her aid struggled to keep himself from beaming as he thanked her, hurrying out of the room to fetch one of the most dangerous men the government had at its disposal. After but a minute, prompt as always, Major Kerztar strode into Governor Razlinc's quarters. In all of his uniformed glory, he stopped in front of Razlinc's desk, bowed and waited for her to gesture him to a seat. With a content smile, he took the seat she gestured to and accepted the tea given to him by Razlinc's assistant. He inhaled the aroma deeply, appreciating the warmth from the liquid with closed eyes, trying to pick out the individual ingredients that might have been used in the tea.

"Thank you, good sir," he bowed his head slightly to the assistant before turning his attention to Razlinc, "I see that you also appreciate the simple things. I find a good tea does something good for mer and man, alike. The taste of a culture's cuisine tells one many things about that culture. For example, Nordic cuisine seldom uses many spices and is rather bland. You will see many salted meats, simple stews with simple broth, many of it is also dried or preserved, especially in the North. They do not eat to taste, they eat to nourish. A tough people, battle-hardened, eating tough meat. They do love their mead, though, and even if one makes the case that it is of honey, it is still the simplest of the alcohols to brew. Understand everything about a culture and you will understand the people. When you understand the people, they are easier to unravel."

Kerztar took his first sip from the tea and savored it diligently before setting down the cup and saucer to the table. He gave a content smile to Razlinc, crossing his legs and folding his hands, "It is nice to finally meet you, ma'am. I was surprised by the lack of work I have had to carry out here in Volenfell. I will not be offended if you are not familiar with my informal title, but know that I am supposedly a very infamous man. I started my work in Skyrim, did my work in Cyrodiil directly after the assault, and now I am here, plying my trade. Forgive me for my ramblings, ma'am, but whatever you need of me, I shall do it."

"I am quite familiar with your reputation, Major." The Governor replied with a smile. "It was your particular set of talents that was what lead me to summon you. There are only so many problems you can fix with a hammer; in this particular instance, it requires the subtly of a knife. I do find we have much in common in regards to our disposition to the other races, I much prefer to immerse myself in their culture when dealing with them, be it something as simple as cuisine or intellectual as literature. Blindly stumbling forward is a folly, a way for fools. Please do tell me, Captain, what do you know of the so-called Heroes of Tamriel?" Razlinc asked, appraising the man with light green eyes.

Kerztar's eyebrows perked the slightest at the mention of the Heroes of Tamriel. He'd seen the statues in the Talos Plaza district of the Imperial City, appreciated the architecture of the ayleids who built the city and the artistry of the Imperials that sculpted such fine representations of these folk heroes. Kerztar sat in thought for a minute, taking one more sip of tea before speaking, "The Heroes of Tamriel," Kerztar spoke, "Well, upon my visit to the Imperial City to assess the destruction and root out any dissidents, I happened upon their statues. At first, I found it very peculiar. A line of statues, Nords, Dunmer, Cat-Men that I was informed were called Khajiit during my time in Skyrim. At first, I thought them to be ancient heroes, perhaps the representations of Kings and Queens in years long past. When I was told the statues were only one and a half years old, I immediately began my research."

Kerztar paused, scratching his chin, "I've found that their leader is Zaveed, a pirate. His once-lover was an assassin, like another, who had managed to kill the Emperor. All three Khajiit, and most of them were not human, at all. The beast races, mer, very few humans. It speaks much of how far society has come that beast races saved Tamriel. During my time in Cyrodiil, I never saw the Heroes, only their statues. I did, however, hear that they left Anvil for Stros M'kai. Apparently, there was a large battle for the city and some of the heroes were caught in it, some left just in time. After the battle, there was a mishap and a mutiny in one of the Thalmor armies and with the encroaching Altmer, the atmosphere became too thick for me to continue my research. Not to mention that I had been summoned to take control of activities here in Volenfell. If they did sail for Stros M'kai, however," Kerztar rested his hands on the arms of his chair, "then we have reason to believe that they may be among us and riling up the local populace. They've already broken a hole in our lines in Cyrodiil, as Chorrol seems to be lost, as you know. These people are dangerous, and if they do have their assassins with them, they are doubly so. I will put in a request for a detachment of the Secret Police be given to you and I to use as we see fit. Rest assured, I will use every ounce of my skill to catch these Heroes of Tamriel. I do not hold any resentment..."

Kerztar sucked his teeth and smiled, "They are just too interesting. A challenge, indeed, perhaps the most worthy test of my skills. I simply must have a word with these people. Something about having a worthy adversary, you know?"

Much of what Kerztar spoke of Razlinc was already well aware of, but she let him speak. She found that sound minds worked best when they could come to a conclusion under their own power, no need to hurry him along. The Major was rather through and meticulous with his research, which was precisely why she summoned him. She needed somebody who was capable of understanding and respecting his foe in order to head them off and lure them into a disadvantageous position, to strike them when they felt they were safe. So far, he was proving to live up to the reputation the Ministry assured Razlinc of. Time would tell if their best man was really worthy of her trust and capable of the work she had assigned. She had high hopes for him; the Governor sincerely hoped he would not disappoint.

"You are very through, considering you had no reason to investigate the importance of this group. But you are rather correct about the troubles they have caused, apparently we have forced them out of an early retirement. Cyrodiil was never important, but Chorrol was a regrettable mistake I hope General Falinar does not make again. His mistake was underestimating the Imperials and what a small group of dedicated specialists can accomplish. All the advanced machinery across Aetherius means nothing if we rely on it instead of ourselves. It is why I hold it in reserve until we need to make a show of force." she stirred her tea, her eyes not leaving the man across the table. "You are also quite correct that they are amongst the populace. A trusted informant has given us a reliable word that they have arrived but a night ago in this very city, but they are scattered and are instructed not to remain in the same place for long. We can't act against one or two without losing the others. It is imperative that we take them all in one fell swoop, or at least, systematically in a way that makes them none the wiser. It is good that you judge them not for their race, for I have an eye for talent, and it's underestimating 'lesser' races is precisely why we lost Chorrol in the first place. If you were to hunt down our quarry, how would you do it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting her cup delicately.

"If the deer hears so much as the snap of a branch, it will bound away from the hunter. These Heroes are smart, they won't stay and fight, they know when to pick their battles. Until now," Kerztar smirked, taking a sip of tea, "Whatever the Empire had sent after them may pale in comparison to what we have in our hands. Make no mistake, I will not have hubris steal them away from my- our grasp, ma'am. The trick to fishing is waiting until the fish has completely swallowed the bait."

Kerztar sat in thought for a minute, mulling over different plans and strategies, flitting by in his mind, "These Heroes have proven themselves against a tyrannical regime and come out on top. We can not afford to make the same mistake this Mad-Emperor made."

"Indeed, we cannot." The governor replied pensively. "This is a group of people who know no real defeat, and have survived against audacious odds. What would serve as alluring enough bait, I wonder? We cannot be so preoccupied with why they are here as much as what they may do. What do you suppose would be their goals here?" she asked.

Kerztar took another sip of his tea, only this time, his face held no expression of savoring the medley of herbs and painstaking artistry put into the tea, it was one of indifference, and good for it, as Kerztar was about to give Razlinc a piece of reality, "They mean to kill us. If they kill you, their goal can be assumed to be the destabilization of Volenfell. They may move on to other provinces and do the same to the other Governors. Their modus operandi will be cloak and dagger, I recommend a curfew, anything we can do short of giving the people a reason to revolt. So far, the rebels are from the Alik'r, nomads and lowly farmers from the desert clans. The city-folk are content under our yoke- or yours, really. As much as I would like to stay and chat, I must be getting to work. There is much to be known, and not enough time to learn it."

The Governor nodded, pleased Kerztar was so quick to grasp the uncomfortable reality of the situation with appropriate gravity. I have chosen well, she thought raising up from the table, the officer across from her standing in turn. "I will take your words into consideration, I assure you, Captain. However, it would not be wise to tip our hand too soon. After all, instating a curfew or other similar punitive control measures for no clear reason would be cause for concern for our esteemed guest, wouldn't you think?" she offered the man a smile. "I appreciate your time and assistance in this most... sensitive matter. I expect a report before long. Good day to you, Captain Kerztar."

With that, Kerztar stood with a courteous bow and a warm smile, "Rest assured, they will die." His footsteps permeated the large halls of the Governor's palace.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

WittyReference said
From carbines to concubines and everything in between.

I deliver on all counts.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Oh look, I posted.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

As Darak Mashad disappeared back up into his shop, leaving the group to their own devices, Zaveed rose from his own floor pillow, strolling over to the city map to get his bearings. It didn’t come as a surprise that the city was made in a very orderly fashion, with neat streets, well-spaced buildings, and an obvious place for public structures. If one were to get lost, it would not be hard to find his or her bearings again and locate what they were looking for by using some obvious clues. Even the markets had some clear reason to them; Mashad Textiles was nestled in a cluster of similar shops, which was a part of a larger merchant quarter. The khajiit traced his finger along the various routes, finding the Palace, guard barracks, the prison, and other locations, committing them to memory the best he could. Satisfied he could navigate his way through the city, Zaveed turned to the others. “Seems only suiting that my rescuing prisoners from captivity is what started everything, so that’s what I will find myself doing.” He said, gathering his belongings. “We should probably coordinate our efforts, since timing can make or break one’s task. I will return later this evening, I presume we’ll have much to discuss about our time here. In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me…” he said, heading towards the rough-looking guard and out the door into the evening heat of the Helgathe streets that immediately enveloped him like a blanket.

The atmosphere was rather at odds with Zaveed’s reason for being in the city. Instead of it being the ravaged chaos of the warzones he had encountered in Cyrodiil, Helgathe almost seemed serene and relaxing. Even with the dagger strapped to his back, concealed by the flowing Hammerfell garb that were both comfortable and strange, Zaveed felt secure in the city despite his presence as an intruder who was intended to cause problems for the dwemer occupiers. Lanterns and torches lined the streets, and vendors still kept their doors open for the still-busy streets. The dim punctuation of music lingered as Zaveed walked, the citizens of Helgathe resuming their culture despite it being filled with invaders. Open-walled taverns dotted the landscape, giving the patrons the opportunity to enjoy the warm night breeze while enjoying drink and bread with friends. The laughter here was real; there was none of the tension Zaveed would have expected. A trio of dwemer guards marched past, offering the khajiit a friendly nod that he returned with a couple fingers pressed to his brow. It was peaceful here; was it really worth disturbing and bringing the war here?

Reflecting on what had happened in Imperial City, the answer was clear. No dwemer in Tamriel was expressly innocent in the crimes committed against Tamriel. As Zaveed left the market district, he recalled what Rashad had said about the protestors in the marketplace. It seemed the dwemer were fine with peace, so long as you agreed unquestioningly to their terms. It was something that clearly did not sit well with Zaveed’s sensibilities. After all, he was a man who often lived outside the law and carved his own path through life, not because someone told him he should. He’d had enough of living as somebody else’s pawn; he would not abide those who would kill to control. He’d helped kill an emperor who styled himself as a god; what chance did a bunch of sun hating ground elves have against that kind of experience?

It wasn’t long until he came across what, according to Mashad’s map, was the guard barracks. It wasn’t quite as ostentatious as the rest of the city, but it had a certain opposing charm to it. The two-story grey-whitestone building was largely protected by a 4-meter high security wall, concealing what happened beyond, and a heavy iron gate barred entrance to the compound, a pair of city guards posted outside of the gate. Around the second floor of the building was several balconies, including on particularly long one that wrapped around the South-East corner of the building. Without climbing the wall, Zaveed couldn’t determine much more about the structure than what he knew. If he were to take a guess, Doshin Ismal, the captain of the city guard, resided in the top floor, somewhere private and with a view. Most men in power didn’t dwell in underground suites.

Taking a turn down another street, and it quickly became obvious what the building that was acting as the detention center was. A hastily-assembled but sturdy iron fence was placed around the front of the squat, one-story building. Unlike the barracks, the fence here had slits between the fences and all that barred entry was a simple guard house and gate on a swivel. Most of the guards were likely on the inside, and it was impossible to tell how much of it was underground. He ran a few scenarios through his mind, but he decided the best time to attack would be just before the changing of the guards, when the outgoing shift was most likely weary and just looking forward to going home after a long shift. His mind raced quickly, coming up with ideas. He’d need to find uniforms, amongst other things. But first, he had to take care of a few things.

It took fifteen more minutes of searching before Zaveed found what he was looking for. He stood outside the wall, as if working up the nerve, and waited for several more minutes before a duo of grinning dwemer guards came out, almost child-like yet masculine enthusiasm dripping off of them like musk. He’d found the place, all right. The khajiit opened the door to the brothel and was immediately confronted by the at-once familiar sights and smells that had once been as regular in his past as a bottle of wine. A buxom, scantily clad woman approached, tracing a finger down his chest. The Redguard woman, pushing 40, practically purred at Zaveed, immediately wondering how many khajiit they had in these establishment. “Well hello, handsome… we don’t normally see a cat, but we always take in strays.” She giggled an accentuated feminine sound. “But, it just so happens I’m feeling a bit feral.”

Zaveed’s hand reached out, lifting the woman’s chin with a finger. His grin was his most charming. “And would you be the seductress who took in the two strays who had just left?” he asked the woman. “They seemed rather… contented.”

“That would be Alliwyn, one of our bosmer girls. She’s known to be very flexible… and good with her tongue.” A seductive grin crossed her still-fine features.

“Ah, a bosmer.” Zaveed said. “I always preferred the taste of something close to home. Could this be arranged, my dear?”

“Most certainly.” The woman said, calling out the bosmer’s name. Soon, a lithe bosmer girl with wet, auburn hair came walking out, freshly bathed. A classy institution, if there ever was one. “Alliwyn, this gentleman would like to request your company. Such a strong traveller,” she said, tracing her hand down Zaveed’s well-defined arms. “But he’s feeling a bit homesick. Could you show him some of your Southern hospitality?” she asked. The bosmer girl smiled in a heart-meltingly sweet way, crossing the room towards Zaveed. The khajiit produced ten Septims from his purse, placing them in the Redguard’s hand before gently kissing her on the cheek. “You have my thanks, my dear.” He said, allowing himself to be taken by the hand by the bosmer girl while the other women, and some men, in the brothel watched with practiced, hungry eyes as he was lead down the corridors to a private room to the side. He was rather surprised at how clean and attractive everything was. Tiled floors and surfaces gave an air of opulence, as did the wooden blinds that let in just enough street light while candles illuminated the room, including the still-warm tub the girl must have been using before Zaveed’s arrival, and a rather large, plush bed with what looked like silk sheets. Doubtless, this wasn’t some dark, seedy dive that kept the alchemists who brewed cure disease potions in high demand. The girl closed the door and approached Zaveed, running her hand along his face. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a khajiit…” she giggled. “I’d been rather missing your people’s talents.”

“Of which I possess many of.” He said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “And you took care of those two dwemer gentlemen from before?” he asked.
“More than just them, but I always make them feel like they’re the only ones.” She admitted, raising an eyebrow at Zaveed’s posture and lack of advancement. He certainly didn’t lack for confidence. “And so… what services may I provide for you, my charming cat?”

The glint of gold flickered as a coin danced between Zaveed’s fingers. “Information.” He replied.

Mass Effect: Nova

Oh, by the way Vakte, that was an EXCELLENT post. You put a lot of work into that. :D

I can't be the only one with this problem....

Might seem like heresy, but consider rebooting the idea, even if it doesn't involve the other characters. I feel a similar attachment to a few of my own characters, and am REALLY reluctant to let go of RPs they're in. Sometimes, the best idea to move forward is to take a few steps back and go at it with a fresh approach and some new faces.

The NEW......seriously......

Also, check out the articles section and the roleplaying discussion, there's some good little nuggets of wisdom and experience there! Either way, don't be afraid to give it a go; it's pretty quick to pick up how things work by just looking around for a few minutes before jumping in. Welcome and enjoy your stay!

after 74 hours of play (FTL)

I think I got to like the 10th sector, that's as far as I got. I haven't played it a hell of a lot, I should go back at it again. I need to stop compulsively checking everything out. >_>