Fetzen

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

He should have seen that coming, right ? Or no -- he actually had seen that coming! The structure that looked as if hewn out of one giant block of solidified volcanic output and subsequently adorned with mysterious looking carvings and etchings exhibited such an eerily similarity to a few things Quavanir had seen in his dreams that the one word he had liked to debate about just a moment ago, 'coincidence', was out of the question immediately.

The Altmer had regarded the whole endeavour of coming here as quite a bit of an experiment, an experiment about whether this would help getting rid of his dreams or at least finding out something about them or whether he'd have to search for their source somewhere else. Yet if this kind of view was correct, then... this was success happening here. This was what the dreams had predicted and it happened right where they had guided him to. All doubts eliminated instantly, any fears of any expenses having been in vain rendered irrelevant all at once!

However the definition of 'success' in this case was a very cruel one as it obviously already included the death of quite a bunch of individuals not related to any of this. Also even if Quavanir had been a completely cold blooded, purely analytic and reckless mind far beyond any reasonable bounds, he still would have had to acknowledge one important detail: he had no real answer about what to do in case of that 'success'. The great folly of so many experimenters! Those dreams had been quite motivating in terms of getting here, but also quite lacking any clue about how to properly act against a monstrosity like the one down in the arena. That thing didn't have some magical lever he could telekinetically pull in order to trigger an emergency shutdown, did it ?

"I suggest we leave this place!" Quavanir shouted to the others, firmly convinced that what had happened to the seats on the other side could still happen with their own ones as well at any moment. No matter how one looked at things: Still being in the spectator's position would not help anyone he thought.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

In case I'm still alive by the time weekend has arrived you can expect a post by me at that time. In case my work kills me within the next three days I hope that at least my malicious, ravaging entity of the afterlife will be powerful enough to perform such a profound and stylish overkill against a certain project I have to do that the whole world will go down with it so nobody has to witness me breaking my promise that way either!

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

I should be able to get a second contribution to the collab up tomorrow at the latest, hopefully. As you can probably guess things are going haywire on my side again, as usual :)

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Being quite busy this workweek, my first contribution to the collab should be up on Saturday.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

@MacabreFox We will make a collab for everyone except Shu and Tabby. Shu is at the temple, and Tabby will need to go there. But yee!

@POOHEAD189

One joined collab or a GM-driven collab for each character individually ? Just asking ahead out of interest :)

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

It was safe to say that a not so gentle wave of frost crept up Týfurkh's spine when he heard the words 'Jade Candle'. However, upon second thought, it could not come as that much of a surprise at all. If there were no other blind spots in one's vision the one that was there was pretty easy to see, wasn't it ?

It did not seem that the Sightless had any idea about the soldiers though, otherwise he would not have asked for one of them to take the candle off him but delegated the task to some other person. This way the probably most valuable asset they had in their hands stayed just there, just at a bit of a different position but that did not necessarily have to be a bad thing. For an instant Týfurkh considered using his magic to whisper something back, but then recalled that him moving his lips while nothing could be heard could just be even more suspicious.

So, trying to communicate without saying a word, Týfurkh did nothing to even try and stop the soldier from reaching into his pocket. They had to continue playing the game, attacking right now as a duo with one of them not having weapons was rather suicidal, but at least not making the best out of the moment of surprise they still might have. Maybe the Sightless could find him to be suspicious somehow, but even so he could still not blame his own men -- that it reality were not his own men at all -- for not noticing the same. As long as the soldiers in disguise were allowed to stay here playing the game would have proven worth it still.

"Oh that thing. I found it in a depot of the army while searching for anything useful before my, well, 'departure'. It looked quite precious so I took it with me." Of course that was a complete lie, but he had to present some continuation to his own cover story...

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

So far it seemed the plan had worked out. Neither the Sightless nor any of the many subordinates around here seemed to have noticed that the soldiers accompanying him had only dressed themselves up as Wall Guards. Well... if those cultists thought that it would be a good thing to 'employ' an entirely anonymous workforce instead of dedicatedly hiring people and getting to know their faces... their problem!

Another biggie roamed around in the Pactmaker's might though: What if anyone would recognize him ? After all there had been an encounter in a now somewhat ruined clocktower and how many other people even remotely matching his appearance were roaming around here ? His cover story of being a defector would fall apart the moment anyone of the Sightless' people would notice that discrepancy and speak up, so better noone of those be here!

Despite the severity of the situation and the fact that he, by now, was completely disarmed, the Sightless' question made Týfurkh chuckle slightly: "Well, as you might have noticed, the army has been outside the city walls for the vast majority of the time. It has only happened very recently that the gates have opened and I actually had the chance to slip in and surrender."

The overall talk did not interest Týfurkh very much. What was of much greater importance to him was where they would lead him to. A prison cell ? An interrogation chamber to see whether he could betray any important secrets ? Or would they send him right towards the marching columns of cultists on their way out of the city, if such even existed ? If his role here was to have any influence a place somewhere above ground would be good, preferably with a window no matter how small so he could 'talk' to the outside world.

And where did his weapons and armor go ?

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

People could be so vastly different even within a small area of space, time, or just family relationships. There were those who only wanted to go through a commoner's existence while others seemed to cling to the hope of becoming some sort of war hero from the very beginning no matter how remote of a possibility that was for them. There were greedy men who wanted to accumulate as many coins as possible while others detested the very concept of virtualizing value and hoping that everyone would be willing to convert a circular lump of metal back into something actually useful at any time. There were people worshipping gods, others believing in nothing but the hidden insights propelled by skooma, and others again considering both other factions to be idiots.

Yet if one sought anything that was close to a common denominator among all people of Tamriel, then many good candidates could still be found particularly if one thought about what could possibly instigate their fear. A very realistic depiction of utter destruction that went far beyond anything a mere drawing or tale could achieve for example. Or stealing some poor individual's good sleep and depriving them of their privacy by replacing their usual dreams with something else for another example. Or, abeit not without a lot of irony to it, just by giving some good reason to believe that all the worshipping might have actually paid out and a divine being had actually cared to get into direct contact with the mortal worshipper.

The latter point did not exactly hold true for Quavanir, but that didn't matter much for this 'vision' had actually managed to hit the other two scenarios simultaneously with pinpoint precision. Would he have decided to make the journey even if it had been a mere beggar repeatedly telling him that his face looked ugly if not washed with some water from Kvatch's temple at least once a decade ? Probably yes, simply because such a method of exchanging information taking place in his dreams was disturbing enough on its own and asking for some sort of investigation.

So it was with a mixed bag of feelings when the Altmer crossed the main gates into the city. Maybe all of this would prove to be an utter waste of time, but maybe there was a lot more to it. Quavanir simply considered not even trying to find out what was true to be the most dangerous of options even if that meant a lot of effort, a pair of aching feet and significantly less coin than usual in his pocket because, of course, he could not attend to his regular job for the time being.

All of these more theoretical considerations however were completely unsuited to spare Quavanir from any sort of practical issues. The first of them was that he, to put it frankly, had not much of an idea about Kvatch's layout. Maybe he should have bothered to learn more about that before departure instead of completely relying on just-in-time reconnaissance ? The latter could prove a little more difficult than anticipated for it was very loud here and no less packed with people who, quite obviously, had more joyful things in mind than answering questions only a complete stranger could ask like where to find the temple.

Quavanir did not even dare to ask for a good inn or the like, but instead opted to find out himself which of the places here wasn't fully booked yet and not blatantly exploiting the high demand by raising prices. He meandered along the crowded streets with his mind focused on finding a good place to rest first, then seeing how much time was left to actually start working on the real reason for coming here before the day's end. The longer he did though the more difficult it became not to get distracted by the festivities around him himself.

Indulging in some of the vices around him had not been forbidden by any kind of vision, right ?

Maybe it was simply because the arena happened to be one of the largest buildings in the quarter why Quavanir ended up there, but soon he found himself trying to peek through any gap in the wall he could find to see what was going inside. It seemed worth actually paying to see the full thing, but the Altmer did not even have to reach for his coin purse to already know that it had become a little too slim for his gusto.

Yet, upon looking around a bit further, it seemed that the overall hiring process for the actual fighters inside was anything but completed. On the contrary it seemed to be much more of an ongoing thing on purpose, and when a bunch of children behind Quavanir made abundantly clear that they did not want the big pointy-eared man he was to occupy the best hole in the wall all for himself he also found himself standing around idly again. Should he not care about this being a bit much of a deviation of his actual goals and actually try ?

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Apologies for not posting yet.

Something, let's say major, has happened in my life last week and I am trying to get things settled which proves quite difficult.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Quavanir

Quavanir

_{Have I done something wrong or why do you hate me ?}

---

___________________________________ P R O F I L E Known as Quavanir "The Colorless" Height 6'6" Weight 249 lbs Gender Male Race Altner Age 42 Birthsign The Serpent ___________________________________ C A P A B I L I T I E S Deity Kynareth Attributes MAJOR: Willpower minor: Strength Skills - Expert: Destruction - Adept: Alteration - Adept: Blunt - Apprentice: Light armor - Apprentice: Athletics - Novice: Restoration - Novice: Acrobatics - Novice: Security Spells Guard Water breathing Water Walking Fire storm Baronoff's Bloody Icicle Shock ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y Weapons and tools Fine iron mace Outfit As long as the need for combat is not present, Quavanir prefers not bothering himself with the weight and discomfort of armor, but allows his skin to get in touch with a simple robe made of thick, decorated cloth. Should it become necessary, he has a set of light chainmail available to him. Elven armor would have been nice of course, but Valenwald is not Sumerset and his budget is not that of a rich man. Consumables 1x Beer 2x Weak Potion of Healing Valuables A small ebony amulet his father gave him when leaving the family, knowing that this could be the last time they'd ever see. Quavanir usually wears it all the time. Quavanir currently carries 95 pieces of gold with him in a small pouch. Misc Inkwell Quill 3x piece of parchment A small leather satchel to keep stuff around on the move

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE People say that Altmer have a golden hue to their skin and blonde hair, but Quavanir easily takes this to a rather extreme up to the point where his pale hull, almost white hair and stubby beard make him pass as an, albeit very mild, case of albinism. That is, of course, only as long as one ignores his eyes. These are so prominent golden orbs that Mundus might well have had more than one sun once until Quavanir stole the other two and imprisoned them in his oculi. Overall his features make him look quite a tad older than he actually is with respect to the average lifespan of his kind, but the fact that his skin has been spared from any deterioration such as notable scars or wrinkles so far betrays his real age to the attentive observer. As is typical for an Altmer, Quavanir stands exceptionally tall compared to the vast majority of others in Cyrodiil, and years of low ranking, physical work from a relatively young age onwards and subsequent exercising have forged his body into something much more hefty than a magically talented beanpole. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK At least up until the current point of time and from a superficial point of view, Quavanir's motivation could have been described as that of a commoner. He just tries to live an everyday life and looks forward to founding a family one day, preferably to get some children in the far future and to pass on his heritage to them. He also has hopes of improving his magical prowess in certain areas even further, but who hasn't some kind of talent he or she hopes to build upon ? Yet there is another thing that keeps stinging in the back of his head: From his point of view Miranir has managed to make his life a lot more complicated and difficult than would have been necessary otherwise, and he prefers not to see himself as the kind of person who forgets and gives up all to easily. While he'd consider himself to be sufficiently self-controlled to stay far away from murdering her, he still wants to prove himself towards her -- not in the sense that she'd accept him, but in the sense that she has to look up towards him in awe and envy. How to achieve this he isn't sure himself yet, but there must be a way: Becoming plain rich maybe ? Possibly, but if so then very preferably without becoming a greedy snob as well. An alternative he considers could be becoming famous somehow, but for that he'd either need an unique talent for something or a lot of luck. Quavanir does not know if Akatosh's dream is a broad hint, but it has started to raise questions in Quavanir's mind: Assuming that a god chooses wisely there must be something else to himself than what he is aware of, otherwise there would have been much more suitable candidates or not ? He is eager to find out what this 'something' is and absolutely convinced that it actually exists. And the number of totally boring days of guard duty will probably be much smaller in the foreseeable future which can't be that bad of a thing either. ____________________________________________________________________________ HISTORY Quavanir was born in a small village in relative proximity to the city of Anvil and was the only child of his caring father Anlocur and his equally loving mother Vendil. However it didn't seem that history was willing to give him a good start as his mother Vendil died shortly after giving birth to him, probably even at least partially caused by it. They were anything but a very rich family so there were not only very limited resources in terms of coin and overall wealth, but also only his father Anlocur available to him. The latter took care of his only son the best he could for the first couple of years, but then this woman called Miranir showed up in his life and things went a little more haywire. Or, to restate things using words much more likely to find Quavanir's approval: that ignorant bitch and her wayward spawn invaded his suboptimal, but still peaceful and not even so desperate life! Miranir brought with her a daughter that was younger and two sons that were a tad older than Quavanir, so the latter suddenly found himself boxed in between two other generations and being the only one with a different background. This might have gone well if Miranir had been a thoughtful and understanding person, but at least in Quavanir's retrospective view she instead soon proved to be rather egoistic, ignorant and with her children not being far behind that. Somehow she managed to make Anlocur blind for the slow turn of their family life towards the unbalanced just as she had managed to twist Anlocur around her greedy fingers in the first place. As it happened though Quavanir was still in his early childhood, at least if measurement on an Altmer's development scale. It took the boy a few more years of growing up and becoming a more intelligent, stronger willed and less infantile person to actually understand how much his surroundings had really deteriorated. Once it slowly dawned upon him though he tried to start telling things. Miranir however didn't see anything wrong and Anlocur, having falling seriously ill himself at that time, had become too weak to resist and turn the whole affair inside out. So, instead of major changes, there now was major conflict that kept smouldering. What brought things to the boiling point was that Miranir's method of exploitation did not stop with his father's illness, but on the contrary: With it came the need to provide an answer for the ultimate question of who would get which part of the family heritage just in case the situation would arise. She and partly also those she had brought with her insisted that they should receive the very largest part of it, the house, for they would be in the majority, in need and also would have contributed so much to the household already. Quavanir thought differently, stating that he was oldest real child of his family, that he was contributing a lot of things too and that it would only be fair if he got at least his fair share of the place. How such a split should be accomplished in practice was an entirely different thing though and it wasn't like Miranir had any interest in backing off. Ultimately, Quavanir fell under the impression that he didn't even want to live under the same roof with her and the others anymore. He left, heavy-heartedly for and in agreement with his father, but still he did even if that meant giving up part of what he deemed to be his rightful heritage. He felt confident enough in himself to stand on his own feet quite a bit earlier than the average person, to get education and work to make a living and then maybe to try and fix things from a then much different point of view. Outside of Sumerset however things are not going as smoothly for an Altmer as they might be there, so that plan didn't exactly work out. For years, Quavanir ended up with various jobs as a temporary worker or doing things other members of the highborn race might not even have touched wearing gloves. It was more by random chance than anything else that somebody actually noticed that a potentially powerful mage would be lost to the world if nothing would change about this. A rich Bosmer called Uungor whom Quavanir had been working for at the time discovered what he deemed to be a great talent. The man decided to sponsor some initial training to see whether anything would come out of it. An entirely altruistic move ? Certainly not! Uungor was in dire need of not only competent, but also loyal guards for his extensive property. Which better way to gain somebody's loyality could there be ? It was not that expensive for the initial stages after all... It worked. After initial successes, Quavanir was allowed to continue exercising on his own as long as he wouldn't happen to burn down the mansion. Luckily it was something he never did. Also the plethora of previous jobs had brought with them a quite hardened body, so for his guard duty Quavanir decided to keep that in proper shape as well the best he could. And then someone must have seriously overcooked it with his or her conjuration, or how else can be explained what's going on from a humble Altmer's point of view ? If only he knew why Akatosh has chosen him and not... somebody else ? ____________________________________________________________________________ RELATIONSHIPS AND OPINIONS A serious fraction of people appear to claim that the average Altmer's level of arrogance would be as high as he or she is standing tall. Quavanir thinks that they could be right. He has seen things from a low level person's point of view and without much of a protective bubble around him. Had it not been for the benign intervention of a stranger, he would not have made it to his current position. Also certain experiences with Miranir have been enough for him to deduce that living a life that's much longer than anybody else's also means that one can do much more wrong in a lifetime than anybody else. Unfortunately his father Anlocur has fallen victim to his illness in the meantime, so he has pretty much lost contact with his family (or what's left of it anyway). While it appears that he can't follow his guard duties for an undetermined amount of time to come, Quavanir still holds contact with his employer Uungor. The Bosmer is still very much in need of good and loyal guards, now probably more than ever, but he can see that there might be even more important business to do. Quavanir has pretty much broken all ties with Miranir and the others she brought with her. He outright hates them for obvious reasons and does not have the slightest interest in seeing them again until he deems himself 'ready' for it, unless its absolutely necessary to know where they'll be at that point, of course. Thoralf is another person worth mentioning: He was Quavanir's first real teacher in terms of magic, the one Uungor sent him to. With him being a Nord through and through, they also had some opportunity to exchange a couple of bruises with each other in training brawls. They are still very good friends with each other, even though mutual vists have been a bit more rare in the past two years. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC ...