Flightless_Soul Member
Sir Kibble the Fearless
STATUS: I mean lake dwelling spirits gotta have a side-hustle, right? 3 mos ago
- Last Seen: 3 mos ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1062 (0.25 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Flightless_Soul 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Ducksworth,
O O,
Nameless Hero,
Lunamaria Hawke,
Vlad Tepes,
Mas Bagus,
AuthorialTheory,
Stryder BC,
Eviora,
Obscene Symphony
Status
Recent Statuses
3 mos ago
Current
I mean lake dwelling spirits gotta have a side-hustle, right?
4
likes
5 yrs ago
@Potemking: I feel as though you may have a masochistic compulsion. I've broken many a controller over Soulsborne games.
5 yrs ago
*Has a feeling Jones reads too many romance novels*
1
like
5 yrs ago
Redguards are technically the Arabians of Tamriel, so wouldn't shouting "Haji" make more sense? No disrespect to my Muslim buddies out there, just sayin'.
5 yrs ago
[2] It can also be effective in subverting the person's expectations. Take for instance Spec Ops: The Line. Looks like a boring military shooter, but is actually a grim look into the horrors of war.
Bio
I'm a human, so there.
Most Recent Posts
@Bluetommy As playing a Deathknight Necromancer in Skyrim, you learn one thing quickly. The dead...do not make for good companions.
"Goats dammit, undead Lydia!! I'm trying to get through the door! Oh for fuck sakes! FUS RO DAH!"
"Goats dammit, undead Lydia!! I'm trying to get through the door! Oh for fuck sakes! FUS RO DAH!"
@Roughdragon1
Ah, but who was this who caught her alluring stare?
From the common rabble easily Ashana pointed him out. A rugged sort of fellow, but despite his old and rusted armour he adorned, the grizzled look to his face, he had the makings of a man of chivalry, far from your common sellsword. Her lips curled into a pleasing smirk. He was bound to have plenty of coin upon him, and that sad look in his eyes as they met hers, twas a look that longed for a woman's gentle touch. Perfect...
She batted her eyelashes, slyly sauntering up to him. There was a cool touch to her skin as she moved. Ah yes, the dagger she had concealed beneath her dress...should the time arise she needed it. But for now, all she needed was her good looks and her silver tongue.
"I didn't expect to find a man of honor frequenting this place~" Ashana purred like a lithe panther, her rather predatory eyes scanning him up and down. He was indeed handsome, a sort of rugged charm most these men didn't have. "You must be lonely from your travels, Sir Knight. That look in your eyes tells me so. Would you mind if I...kept you company?"
Ah, but who was this who caught her alluring stare?
From the common rabble easily Ashana pointed him out. A rugged sort of fellow, but despite his old and rusted armour he adorned, the grizzled look to his face, he had the makings of a man of chivalry, far from your common sellsword. Her lips curled into a pleasing smirk. He was bound to have plenty of coin upon him, and that sad look in his eyes as they met hers, twas a look that longed for a woman's gentle touch. Perfect...
She batted her eyelashes, slyly sauntering up to him. There was a cool touch to her skin as she moved. Ah yes, the dagger she had concealed beneath her dress...should the time arise she needed it. But for now, all she needed was her good looks and her silver tongue.
"I didn't expect to find a man of honor frequenting this place~" Ashana purred like a lithe panther, her rather predatory eyes scanning him up and down. He was indeed handsome, a sort of rugged charm most these men didn't have. "You must be lonely from your travels, Sir Knight. That look in your eyes tells me so. Would you mind if I...kept you company?"
The market was trying her patience. The smell of food, an acrid scent to her now, the inane prattle of the vendors pushing their wares in her face. Finally she gave up and just decided to head for the nearest tavern. Her hangover was killing her, yes, but the best cure for alcohol was always more she thought.
"The Dock Inn", the sign above said. A shanty of sorts perched beside the ever rolling sea. Twas bound to be full of sailors and adventurers who were coming off the boats, maybe a few mercenaries who had traveled here to help out the cause. Rebellion, such a thing Ashana understood. Why would one just accept the yoke when man was meant to be free, unbridled and unattended? Ah, but she was not one for the politics of the royals. Leave that to them.
@EldarionI
But there was one thing the rebellion was good for. Opportunity.
The rebellion had brought in mercenaries from all over to fight for profit. Surely their pockets were fat with coin. Ah, the spoils of war, spoils Ashana could easily plunder off these drunken, lonely men with a just a wink and a smile. And of course...she could just slit their throats while they were...distracted.
First step into the bar, the smell hit her all at once, ale, cheap ale too, culminating with the crackling pine logs roasting in the hearth and the musk of the rowdy men as they drank and clanked their tankards, sharing many a bawdy joke or a sea shanty. Whenever the wenches strolled by them carrying drinks and roasted meats, a firm smack on the bottom they would receive.
The red haired woman glanced around. Certainly one of these fools had to be drunk off his arse she figured, an easy target.
"The Dock Inn", the sign above said. A shanty of sorts perched beside the ever rolling sea. Twas bound to be full of sailors and adventurers who were coming off the boats, maybe a few mercenaries who had traveled here to help out the cause. Rebellion, such a thing Ashana understood. Why would one just accept the yoke when man was meant to be free, unbridled and unattended? Ah, but she was not one for the politics of the royals. Leave that to them.
@EldarionI
But there was one thing the rebellion was good for. Opportunity.
The rebellion had brought in mercenaries from all over to fight for profit. Surely their pockets were fat with coin. Ah, the spoils of war, spoils Ashana could easily plunder off these drunken, lonely men with a just a wink and a smile. And of course...she could just slit their throats while they were...distracted.
First step into the bar, the smell hit her all at once, ale, cheap ale too, culminating with the crackling pine logs roasting in the hearth and the musk of the rowdy men as they drank and clanked their tankards, sharing many a bawdy joke or a sea shanty. Whenever the wenches strolled by them carrying drinks and roasted meats, a firm smack on the bottom they would receive.
The red haired woman glanced around. Certainly one of these fools had to be drunk off his arse she figured, an easy target.
@Avali A mage/warrior would either be a spellsword or a battlemage but accepted nonetheless! ^_^ Great character by the way!
The snow cracked and crunched under her feet with every step she took through the crowded city street, shifty eyes dancing about in the sockets of her head to and fro, scanning for a potential mark.
Gods damned this blasted city! She shivered a little, wrapping her elegant shawl a bit tighter around her, a gift from a particularly innebriated nobleman she lured into bed. Thankfully she spared herself the indecency of laying with the fat, drunken pig. Just her luck he was one of those fools who liked to be tied down.
What I wouldn't give for the heat of the desert sand... A cruel place it was, Ahkshriba, but what would be more cruel than freezing to death in this gods damned snow?
She sighed, her breath a thin mist caught in the biting, frigid air. The buzzing of the market rabble was incessant in her ears, her head pounding. Maybe killing a few tankards of ale was not the best way to celebrate her victory over that drunken fool.
Hmm...there has to be something in this market worth stealing. Blast! But nothing of the sort, just the ususl, dried meats and fish, produce that could hardly be called such... Not a single jeweler or antiques dealer to be seen. Perhaps she would just have to resort to picking pockets, but that lacked the flair and the fun the Black Rose had come to known.
Gods damned this blasted city! She shivered a little, wrapping her elegant shawl a bit tighter around her, a gift from a particularly innebriated nobleman she lured into bed. Thankfully she spared herself the indecency of laying with the fat, drunken pig. Just her luck he was one of those fools who liked to be tied down.
What I wouldn't give for the heat of the desert sand... A cruel place it was, Ahkshriba, but what would be more cruel than freezing to death in this gods damned snow?
She sighed, her breath a thin mist caught in the biting, frigid air. The buzzing of the market rabble was incessant in her ears, her head pounding. Maybe killing a few tankards of ale was not the best way to celebrate her victory over that drunken fool.
Hmm...there has to be something in this market worth stealing. Blast! But nothing of the sort, just the ususl, dried meats and fish, produce that could hardly be called such... Not a single jeweler or antiques dealer to be seen. Perhaps she would just have to resort to picking pockets, but that lacked the flair and the fun the Black Rose had come to known.
@Avali What she said.
Dragons...
Many years ago, before the rise of Tiber Septim, before the Great Empire, man made dragons into a myth. They were only the subject of old Nord legends and fairytales passed down to their children. No one believed they ever existed...until now...
Delphine sighed with regret in her heart as she stood at the summit of the Throat of the World. The chilling winds of the mountain whipped her scorched blonde hair into a flurry as snow and flecks of ice pelted her burned, calloused cheeks. Below, Skyrim lay in smouldering ruin. Flames as high as mountains lit the blackened night, smoke and dust so thick, it blotted out the stars and the moons.
"We were fools..." She muttered under her breath. Her armor, the armor of the Blades, sworn to protect Tamriel from this ever looming threat, she once felt pride wearing it. Now...she felt ashamed. Metal plates were singed and tattered, torn beyond repair as the woman who donned them.
"The gods lied to us! The Scrolls lied to us! We prayed! We waited for his return....but he never did. Alduin has destroyed Skyrim...and we couldn't stop him! Just mere mortals!"
A tear fell from her eye, caught by the frigid, howling winds, as from her armor, she pulled a pendant, clutching it in her hand...and falling to her knees.
The pendant...it had belonged to her dearest friend and most valuable comrade...
"Esbern...my comrades...Tamriel... I have failed you. Oh Divines...please...I beg your forgiveness..."
She staggered to her feet...and from the mountain she cast herself. Tamriel's hopes...they had died with her...
A new age had dawned upon the land, a tyranical reign of fire and terror. With none to oppose Alduin, he swept across Skyrim like a plague, delivering death and discord. Those who did not bow were incinerated... The Dragon Cult returned in full force soon after, conquering the land, as there was no Empire left to defy them. They enslaved the people, forcing them to build great temples and cities in honor of their Dragon Gods and offering unwilling slaves...as sacrifice.
Gone was the pantheon of the Nine, and ushered in, Alduin the World Eater.
There is no hope for Skyrim, no hope for Tamriel. With Alduin as Lord, the world shall burn...till only ashes remain.
@EldarionI Kinda sorta yeah.... -_-
© 2007-2026