Recent Statuses

25 Apr 2017 12:13
Current Thanks for telling us your plan, Mister Master Manipulator. Now everyone knows that you think you can play mind games.
18 Mar 2017 22:15
Two BARs go into a guy. He died in the hospital the next morning. More at eleven.
24 Feb 2017 23:20
Ulfric Stormcloak is a Thalmor plant! Alduin's return is just a false flag operation!
13 Feb 2017 2:26
You're the Inquisitorial equivalent of spoiled rich children. Also yer accent's weird, a full'a waffles.
1 like
4 Feb 2017 17:40
I prefer Darth Trapz'er-Ghey, though some call me...Tim.
1 like




Background and roleplaying preferences


A little about me

Greetings, I am Frizan. I'm a gamer and roleplayer of many years. My favorite game genre is stealth and, as a natural consequence, my favorite archetype is the rogue or thief. If a setting allows for rogue-type characters, it's almost a guarantee I will be playing one. Of course, that is not to say I can't play as anything else, I simply prefer playing the rogue, as it's what I have the most experience with. I can play warriors and even priests just fine. I really enjoy storycrafting with my fellow roleplayers, even if none of it actually gets implemented, it's a great way to drum up ideas for future projects. Also, it's just good fun!

Preferred settings

It's eye-rollingly cliche, but the setting I normally stick with is Fantasy, ala Elder Scrolls or Dragon Age. I, of course, am open to most other settings. Settings I don't think I will ever get into though are school settings and other "slice of life" style settings. They simply do not appeal to me.

Degree of seriousness

Once upon a time, I absolutely loved serious and "gritty" games. It's why I am now completely burnt out on them. You could say my edge has been dulled. Now, I seek roleplays that are non-serious in nature, where death is something that happens rarely, or at least does not get a whole lot of time devoted to it(though I haven't ruled out "serious" games entirely, they just need to be focused on something other than pure edge). As it stands now, I view player-character death not as some big event that's worth getting emotional over in any degree, it just means I have to start over with a new character and write up their sheet. It's an annoyance and nothing more. Besides, happiness isn't a sin and neither is character death the only way to conjure up drama. C'mon, get creative for once.

Available methods of contact

I have a steam account, a Skype account, a Discord account, and I am also open to using Google Docs and Titan/Ether/Whateverpad.



Currently enrolled in:

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention
(ongoing and looking for more players!)

My Characters

The Elder Scrolls: Crimson Skies
(fresh off the drawing board and looking for more players!)

My Characters

Previously enrolled in:

Furor Titanicus
Star Wars: Edge of Rebellion

Most Recent Posts

If a "Newbie" forum is ever implemented, I don't think it would hurt for a blurb to be stickied at the top that encourages sociability. Something that explains that while perhaps not everyone on the Guild is looking to be your friend, they all do share a hobby with them: writing. The Guild is a place to write and talk about writing; styles, past/current/future projects, etc etc. So they shouldn't be shy about just going out and throwing out their ideas. Ah, of course, don't forget to reserve part of the blurb for the usual stuff about accepting and giving good criticism.
25th of Sun's Height, Sunset - Windpeak Inn

Sagax arrived back at Windpeak eventually, but he probably took more time than Piper would have liked. He had spent a good while simply walking the streets of Dawnstar, trying to get all his thoughts together. He had questions, questions like "Why the hell has my sister left the Imperial City?", and "What am I going to do?". Unfortunately, he would only receive an answer to the first question. Sitting down with Piper, Sagax spoke before she could even flinch.

"Why did you follow me here, Piper?" He tried to make himself sound as stern as possible, something he had tried and failed at before with his sister; she was simply sterner, not to mention hard-headed. The Imperial had already abandoned the possibility of getting Piper to go back home, but he at least wanted a straight explanation for her actions.

Leaning back in her chair with arms crossed, Piper responded simply. "I heard you guys were having trouble up here, so I thought I'd come and help." She looked around absentmindedly, focusing on nothing in particular. One of her tells, of course, which Sagax was very familiar with, and she his. Not always an indicator that she was lying, but perhaps simply not telling him everything.

" you waltzed all the way up here, to the very end of Skyrim, just because?"

"Yes! That's exactly fucking it!" Piper shouted irritably. "Like I said, I'm here to make sure you can come back home in one piece! What, am I not allowed to give a shit about you or something!?" Glancing around at the curious eyes of the other patrons, Piper's voice rose further. "What the hell are you looking at!?"

Getting Piper's attention and signaling for her to quiet down a bit, Sagax responded calmly. "Alright, alright I get it, and I'm happy that I got to see you again, but you didn't have to come down here armed to the teeth! Seriously, we're fine. I'm fi-"

"Bullshit!" Piper said in a half-whisper, gritting her teeth and smacking the table with her palm. "I know what happened at Windhelm, Sagax! Everybody in Tamriel knows about the Demons!" Leaning in closer, she continued in a voice that mocked the calmness of her brother's. "I've also heard some stories. One that really, really stuck out to me was about some crazed man in Cyrodiilic leathers making a mad dash towards a frigate, just before it mysteriously exploded...have any idea who that was?"

After a few moments of silence, Piper spoke up again. "Why don't you just start from the beginning, when you joined this company of yours?" Not really seeing any way out of his situation, Sagax began to retell the recent exploits of the merry band of mercenaries he signed on with. Piper's jaw seemed to drop lower and lower with every sentence. It didn't help that she kept asking for more details about everything; what could have taken ten minutes ended up stealing an hour away from them. When the tale was finally finished, Piper just rubbed her eyes and groaned. "What am I going to do with you, Sagax..."

"See, I could kind of tolerate your hobby of climbing anything that was tall enough to kill you if you fell, but bombs, Sagax? I mean where did you guys even get those things, those arcane charges or whatever you called them?"

"I don't know from where specifically, Ashav just told us they were for breaching the Forsworn gate. We didn't use all of them in the assault, and it would have been a waste to just sell them off..."

"But why are you using them?"

"Well, they've come in handy, and the company comes across a lot of very...problematic situations-"

Sighing, Piper interjected. "No no no, Sagax, why are you using them? I mean you specifically. Why the hell do you keep getting sent off to do shit with those exploding death plates?"

"Well..." Sagax began, "I'd say because Ashav not only values my skillset, but also knows how to make good use of it, so he sends me to sabotauge the enemy...which just so happens to mean 'use arcane charges to blow their ships sky high'." If one listened closely, they would make out a hint of pride in the man's voice.

"You're a madman, Sagax, I swear. You belong in the fucking loony bin." Piper responded with an exasperated laugh. "Values your skillset? My ass. He's just using you, even if he does throw a coin your way every other blue moon. Don't even get me started on that bitch from earlier...these people aren't your friends, Sagax. Not a single one. The only people in this world that care about you are father, mother and I. You shouldn't trust these people with anything...bunch of liars, crooks and thieves they are." Piper's tone seethed with vitriol, something her brother had gotten used to a long time ago. She was just so filled with hate, and it never seemed to die down. Did her temperament worry Sagax? Sometimes, but he believed that if she would just let more people into her life, or give them a chance at least, she would be so much happier. So far, though, attempts to get Piper to open up had been entirely unsuccessful. Wouldn't stop Sagax from trying some more, though.

"You're wrong, Piper, like you always are about people. The men and women in this company are a good sort. Harp on about whatever faults you find all you like, it won't change the truth, or what I think about the people around me." How many times have the two of them argued about this sort of thing? The tally was probably in the hundreds, and it ended the exact same way every time, with neither of them budging from their points of view. Sagax could cut with a knife the frustration radiating from Piper, and she could no doubt feel his judgmental eyes on her.

After a solid minute of silence, Piper spoke suddenly. "It's getting late, we should get some sleep." There was always something to break off from the argument when it got awkwardly quiet, and Piper was always fairly good at finding it. "I've got us both rooms. I didn't come with much, but it was enough for that, at least. Right next to mine, just over there."

Whether he liked it or not, Piper was there to stay, and there wasn't anything he could say or do to dissuade her. Choking down his desire to argue further, Sagax retired, getting a surprisingly quiet night of sleep. Perhaps the old man was too busy to pay a visit.

26th of Sun's Height, Morning - Windpeak Inn

The sun was out, birds were singing, and wind quietly rattled the window of the room. It seemed to be a gentle morning, stress-free, and for that Sagax was grateful-

"What the fuck!?"

Jolting upright, still half asleep and out of his armor, the Imperial was less than ready for the sudden noise that blasted through his door. Then came the banging and shouting for him to get up; it was Piper's voice, filled with a distress not common for her. Slipping on his boots and cloak, Sagax strode over to the door and flung it open hurriedly. Piper, in her own set of casual wear and with greatly disheveled hair, immediately grabbed her brother by the arm and lead him just outside of the inn. She then shoved a bit of paper into his hands and pointed to a specific area. "Read it!"

"It" was the latest edition of the Tamrielic Gazette. What in the world was printed on the harmless piece of paper to make Piper's voice quake as it did? As he read, the answer became very, very clear to Sagax.

Caius Speculatus' wife, Equa, was taken into custody by the Penitus Occulatus. Official press briefing states the move is for Equa's own safety, as the suspected vampire Caius could be plotting to turn his family. However, some believe the move is to draw out Caius and the Seventh Estate from hiding.

"They...they have mother!" he whispered unsteadily. Looking up, Sagax met his sister's frantic eyes. "What are we going to do? What can we even do!?"

"I don't fucking know!" she responded, putting her head in her hands. "The caravan I got here with is gone, and it'd take me weeks to get back to the Imperial City on my own...fuck! Fuck, fuck...fucking fuck!" Seething silently for a few moments, Piper spoke up again after she was able to calm herself enough to speak sensibly. "Shit, even if I did go back, what the hell would I be able to do? I'd be thrown into a cell too! For her safety...bullshit! Who knows what those pig-heads are doing to her right now? And Varulae...they'll go for her next, I'm sure of it!"

Piper looked back over to her brother for a moment, before gripping him by his shirt collar with both hands and nearly lifting Sagax clear off the ground. "I'm staying here; I won't lose you too, Sagax! Who the hell are you signed on with!? Ashav? Where is he!?"

"He-he's busy! Besides, it's too late for you to sign on right now anyway! The investigation-"

"What investigation? Who ordered it? The...Jarl, or whatever it is Counts are called here? Would they have me?" Releasing Sagax from her death grip, Piper allowed her brother to speak.

"Um...well, I suppose he might? I've heard talk of the Jarl hiring on independents. You wouldn't be associated with our company, so you would most likely take orders from the Jarl himself and his representatives, but I would assume you'd be paid all the same and..." Before he could finish, Piper was already heading back inside Windpeak.

"Grab your gear, Sagax! We need to be presentable!"

26th of Sun's Height, Late Morning - The White Hall

With their first steps into the longhouse, Piper and Sagax could already feel watchful eyes upon them. Both kept their hands as far away from their blades as possible as they presented themselves before Jarl Skald, whose uninterested gaze turned into a scowl at the sight of Piper's shield. Skald's Housecarl, Jod, began a very warm welcoming speech.

"You stand before the Jarl of Dawnstar, Skald Felgeif the Elder. While in his city and home, you will show him the proper respect befitting a Jarl. Keep your distance, your blades sheathed, and speak only when spoken to. The Jarl's word is law, and you will respect the law for as long as you remain in Dawnstar. Am I clear?" After a confirmation of understanding, Jod allowed the pair to come a few inches closer to the throne.

"And what do you want, Imperial whelps?" The grumbling voice of the Jarl was filled with obvious disdain, in particular his emphasis on "Imperial". Perhaps purposefully not giving his guests a chance to respond, Skald almost immediately began speaking again. "Well? I haven't got all day! You Imperials, you spend too much damn time gawking when you should be getting on with your business..."

Stepping forward, Piper bowed slightly out of begrudging respect. "My lord, I wish to lend my skills to you for the upcoming murder investigation. I have equipment and the training to match, and I have the skill to hunt down and drag the culprit to your throne begging for forgiveness."

"Oh goodie, another Imperial meddling in Dawnstar's business...fine! With any luck, maybe you'll end up the same as that accursed piss-skin..." Clapping his hands, Skald shouted at a corner where a tired-looking man stood. "Bulfrek! Get over here! And bring me my quill! The good one!" Before he began writing, and without even looking up at Piper, Skald addressed the lass. "Oh, and it's Jarl to you, Imperial. There are no lords here in Skyrim, sitting in cushion-filled castles eating candies all day long..."

After a few moments of scribbling, Skald handed off a sheet of paper to Jod, who then gave it to Piper, along with a dingy quill. "Sign at the bottom there, on the line. Your pay's listed at the very end of the do know how to read, don't you?" A very charming man, Skald was, and Piper was warming up to him oh so well; she even shared a friendly glare with the Jarl. She wanted to argue about her pay, which was an absolutely paltry sum, but figured she wouldn't get very far with the old codger, so she quietly signed her name. "There, congratulations, you're hired. Bye-bye, so long,, really, get out. Or my Housecarl will escort you."

Both Imperials left quietly and made their way back to Windpeak. Neither spoke much more; Piper was still seething about the recent news, while Sagax simply felt dejected. Would the situation get better at some point?

Sagax felt pessimistic about the odds.
Khazki snickered. “You know, the whole ‘you carry a big sword and therefore a small cock’ argument only works when you actually have a cock. This isn’t about covering up my problems, it’s about keeping the problems out,” she said, tapping on her breast piece, and then lifting her sword to her shoulder to rest. “And getting rid of them, respectfully. I don’t give anyone a chance until they prove that they’re not a worthless bag of bones that hides all sorts of nasty thoughts behind smiles and kind gestures. Word of advice? People always want something out of you. Your body, your money, whatever you have on you. Travel around a bit; you’ll see what I mean.”


I think Khazki and Piper are going to get along really well. Or they'll mutually hate each other, either is likely.

Unlikely Bedfellows

A Collab with @MiddleEarthRoze, @Frizan, @POOHEAD189, and @MacabreFox

"Forgive me - I didn't catch your names in the Chapel."

Brona's attention shifted to the approach of a blond Nord, she had seen him apart of the group when they entered the portal. He dwarfed Brona in size, standing well over a foot taller than her. She almost forgot to speak as he asked for their names, her eyes were focused on the minute details of his face. Braids kept the dark blond hair out of his face which revealed a pair of storm-blue eyes. She noticed the appearance of laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, he had to be far older than her, but that didn't mean the Nord was unappealing to look at. "The name's Brona." She piped up, uncertain if he heard her or not as he directed his attention to Bardeck who suffered a far worse injury than she did. Nevertheless, the blood that dripped down her arm from the wound on her shoulder caused her a great deal of pain. She eyed the carcasses of their foes, most notably the reptile-like creature that had attacked her.

Bardeck nodded both his acceptance and his thanks to Niko, the muscled young man grunting as he pulled his leg up, knee raised high. "Thank you."

"What are these...things?" She asked to no one in particular, waving her hand at the corpses of the demons they slaughtered.

Through his dark matted hair, Bardeck glanced at the Dremora and lesser Daedra they'd slain. He should have guessed they would have been injured during this fight. The churl was a definite challenge for any warrior. He was proud to have lived, and thankful for Brona's continued help. "Demons." He replied. "Dremora. I'm not learned in books as some are, but the Orcs know these creatures. The lesser beasts as well, though their names escape me this moment." With that he glanced at Brona. "There are worse things here. Stay vigiliant."

What could be worse than Daedra? Daedric Princes, of course, but such an entity was unlikely to make an appearance to a random ragtag group such as them. Something not quite as bad as Daedra, but perhaps just as potentionally painful, found its way to Bardeck.

While Brona reveled in the thought that the creatures they battled moments ago were Daedra, she had little time to formulate a response before an Altmer in full steel armor barged into their conversation.

"FRIENDS! We have claimed victory over these foul creatures! But we must rest only for a short while, for a greater prize awaits us just yonder!" Shouted Orintur with jubilation. Clasping Bardeck roughly by the shoulder, the Paladin spoke directly to the man. "Well fought, well fought indeed, my friend! Those fiends had absolutely no idea what hit them, ahaha!" If something in Bardeck's shoulder popped, Orintur clearly did not hear it, as he continued on speaking, now to Brona.

"And to you as well, of course! I mean no offense when I say this, but I did not think someone of your stature would fare very well against Daedra."

Bardeck gave a nod. He wasn't particularly hurt from Orintur's overly enthusiastic greeting, but he knew that would be a diferent case for someone else, and something told Bardeck Orintur would have been just as...enthusiastic with someone less broad of shoulder. "You as well. You fought as feircely as you act."

Glad the young warrior was accepting his aid (Niko had seen far too many egotistical men who thought they could simply walk off injuries, rather than accept help and look "weak.) the Nord knelt so Bardeck was able to rest his injured leg upon his own; magic flashing against the deep wound, the crimson blood began to thicken, clotting taking place and staunching the flow as the magic knitted together the torn flesh.

"Scamps." Niko replied to Brona, eyes still focused on Bardeck's wound. "They only seemed small, however. I've seen bigger ones than that before." He said grimly, pausing a moment to look at her. "Conjured, thankfully. They're not quite as terrifying when they're on the leash of magic... and in a Mage's dining room." The fellows at the Guild - particularly in Chorrol - enjoyed summoning a great deal of Daedra. According to a story he had heard, an Apprentice had 'accidentally' summoned a Daedroth from the realms of Oblivion, causing quite a bit of chaos among his peers simply by the horrifying presence of the beast. An amusing story, but Niko didn't want to tempt fate by retelling it - a Daedroth could show up at any minute, and that was the last thing the group needed.

She bit her lip to suppress a string of biting words that struggled to fight their way free, so she ignored the Altmer for the time being. According to the rugged Nord who tended to Bardeck, the daedra she fought, were scamps. At least she had a name for them now, not that she would have read about them in a book... words weren't her forte.

Glancing up as the Altmer Paladin came over in a rather... victorious mood, Niko quashed an amused smile that began to form on his face. The High Elf's enthusiasm was somewhat infectious, to say the least. And despite two deaths, the remaining members of their troupe were alive and well, beyond a few minor injuries. As for Bardeck's wound, it was healing nicely thanks to Niko's restoration magic; it would be a messy job, what with the lack of time and resoures the group had to work with. However, once Niko had expended his magicka, the flesh was healed and the muscle and tendons within fixed enough for one to walk on.

"You'll be bruised for a few days, and it'll ache like a bugger - but you'll be able to walk on it." Finishing with a supportive - but gentle - clap to Bardeck's injured leg, Niko got to his feet, glancing at Orintur - and the blood trailing from his head.

"My thanks," Bardeck replied. He grunted, but stood up easily enough. The ache of the wound was dull, but the pain no longer reverberated in his skull. He'd seen far worse even without the healing, but he wasn't going to tempt fate. Not here. He might have lived among the Orcs for a time, but he had a bit more self preservation than that.

"If I wait a moment, I'll be able to help there, should you need it." Motioning towards the trickle of blood that could be seen - Niko had spoke swiftly, hoping that Brona hadn't picked up too much on the Altmer's words of... "stature".

"Hm? Help with what? Where?" Asked Orintur. What was Niko talking about? He was perfectly fine! Gah, but the sweat pouring down his neck was getting quite bothersome. Removing his helmet, Orintur wiped away the beads of sweat from the back of his neck with the palm of his gauntlets, only to find that even more was pouring down! He wiped and wiped, but it simply wouldn't stop! Catching a glance at his palm, Orintur discovered why: It wasn't sweat, at least not entirely, but blood.

"What in the world!? How did this-oh, wait a minute, I remember now! Yes, that Churl hit me quite hard in the head. I accept your offer, friend, my thanks to you."

Looking toward Brona and her rather sizeable wound, Orintur spoke again. "Excuse me, madam, but would you like assistance with your injury? I am well trained in the art of Restoration; all Paladins are, of course!"

Nodding in response to the young warrior's thanks, Niko then turned to the Altmer. A tall, striking fellow - and quite unlike any other High Elf he had seen before. There was something very brusque and easy-going about him. Definitely less uptight than others of his kin that Niko had seen before; he would be unsurprised to find some Nordic blood in the Altmer's family. However, regardless of amicability, Orintur was still injured - considering the force of the blow recieved, it was a wonder he wasn't concussed. A short blast of his healing magic stemmed the blood flow from the head wound, and now having expended all of his magicka once more, stepped back to let the Paladin work on Brona.

After his remark about her stature, Brona raised a brow at the Altmer's behaviour, where she questioned his sanity. Nevertheless, the wound on her shoulder would be only a burden on the group further down the road. "If you would be so kind." She offered a sheepish grin. She pulled off her leather gloves and unknotted the leather cords that held her gorget in place. Once she had set that aside, she set to removing her breastplate, a necessary task as the leather covered the piercing bite wounds. Now, without her breastplate, Brona's red tunic held no indication that she had suffered an injury, as the color masked the blood, save for darker splotches of red where it had seeped through. She wiped the rivulets of blood away on the hem of her tunic, before turning her attention to the Altmer again. "If you will." she said with a nod of her head.

Bardeck was a bit too preoccupied with other thoughts at the moment as he gazed at Gideon smelling the Scamp corpses and prodding them with his muzzle, but he honestly agreed with Orintur. Not that he'd have said it in such a fashion, but the well-built young fighter was impressed at Brona's skills. She used her talents well.

"By the way, we told you our names, what are yours?" She asked to both the Altmer and the Nord.

"My name? It would be Orintur Graywatch, at your service, madam!" The towering Elf said with a graceful bow. "I am a humble servant of Stendarr, charged with the protection of the innocent, and the smiting of those that would prey upon them! To that end I am trained in both the arts of war and magic; yes, I even employ the distasteful school of Destruction. If I could make do without it I most certainly would, but in this world, you must use the tools that have been granted to you."

Setting down his hammer and helmet, Orintur continued. "However, my knowledge of Restoration is much more formidable than any other of my proficiencies...well, except for my skill with hammers! Ahaha!" Stretching out his arms and fingers, Orintur prepared a cast of Greater Convalescence; Brona's wound, while not life-threatening, was still too severe for Orintur to treat it with the spell's less potent brother. He did not mind expending the extra magicka, after all, this was the Paladin's calling in life, to help those in need.

With a flash of light and perhaps a slight burning sensation for Brona, the wound was healed up with little trace of it having been there at all...well, except for the rather unsightly scarring, but that would heal on its on with time. Most of it, anyway.

"And...finished! There you are, good as new!"

"I certainly appreciate the kindness, Master Orintur. I never learned any other field of magick, save for Illusion. Just don't have it in me, or that's what my teacher told me." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. Brona ran a hand over the new scar where the wound once existed. She had to admit, she was impressed at his skill. She replaced her armor, pulling the leather cords tight to prevent it from coming loose.

As the three conversed, Bardeck crouched and held his hands out to his canine companion. Gideon trotted over to him and began lapping at his face. The warrior chuckled and ran his hand over Gideon's furred back. The wardog was not truly hurt, merely singed in a few places. Bardeck could tell it would be alright. "Keep careful, yeh?" He asked Gideon, who nuzzled into his hand. If Orintur remained as effective of a fighter as he had been, he and Bardeck would keep the front of the group relatively secured.

Raising his eyebrows at Orintur's rather dramatic introduction, Niko looked between he and Brona, feeling a slight sense of relief at having someone so zealous in their party. It was almost like having extra protection from the Gods.

"My name is Nikolaus." This follow-up sounded particularly lame compared to Orintur's, and realising this, Niko cleared his throat and stood up a bit straighter. "I was once a Battlemage for the Arcane University; as such, I have plenty of experience dealing with the horrors we see here. While not Daedra, there are people and beings in our realm that are capable of just as much terror." Pausing a moment as past memories flickered across his mind, Niko shook the thoughts off. Now wasn't the time.

"My friends call me Niko - feel free to do the same." He added in a lighter tone, smiling slightly at his now healed companions.

"Nice to meet you, Niko. What's a Nord like you doing this far south?" She asked.

Niko paused before answering her, sheathing his other sword. "Work. I take jobs here and there, travel with my daughter. It's not the easiest of lives, but she enjoys seeing new places." While certainly the truth, Niko constantly wondered whether or not it would be better for her if he'd just take a permament job in a city. But then again, after seeing Kvatch... they were unlucky to have been trapped there. If they had been residents, perhaps their fate would have been much worse. "I used to live in Kvatch, actually. A few years ago... a shame to see it like this now."

The realization that he had a daughter, and had traveled this far south for work as he put it, made her question where the mother was. She bit her lip at the thought while her eyes lingered upon his figure. "You're a good man, lookin' after your daughter like that." What else could she say? She just met the man, and even more so, the private affairs of his life. So she presumed the best course of action, in situations like these, was a simple change of topic. Brona switched her attention to the dog that belonged to Bardeck. A smile crossed her lips as she watched it sniff the corpses of the scamps, she liked animals. Never owned one, but liked them nonetheless.

"A fine creature, that one is. Where did you find such a dog?" She asked Bardeck with a nod of her head.

The rugged warrior smoothed his hand on Gideon, turning to look at Brona. "Thank you," he said earnestly. He didn't really care too much on compliments for himself, unless it was for glorious combat. But Gideon? He loved his Warhound. "Gideon was a gift from my mentor, Rogath." He smiled, his handsome face lighting up and looking much younger when he was speaking of his dog. "It was the last thing he gave me before I left Hammerfell."

"Hammerfell?" Her brows lifted at the mention of Hammerfell, what in the world was he doing all the way up there? Now that she thought about it, their entire company was composed of folks from all walks of life.

He halted scratching Gideon for a moment, and he nodded. "I grew up in Skyrim for a time, but most of my life has been spent in Hammerfell, learning to smith and fight with Orcs." He said, reminiscing of his time there in the back of his mind.

"Well I'll be damned." She said as a smile crossed her lips, staggering to her feet she glanced at the others. "Suppose we should get a move on lest those Daedra spring another trap on us, eh?" Her hand swept towards the remaining members of the company, most had seemingly received some type of healing as well.

The story behind Bardeck was an intruiging one to Niko; it was rare for the Orismer to take in non-Orcs to learn and live with them, and for them to give gifts freely meant they considered the young warrior a competent one. Making a mental note to ask Bardeck of his no-doubt interesting past in Hammerfell - if they made it out of here alive, that was - Niko nodded in agreement to Brona. The injuries sustained by the group had been fairly light to begin with, so it was lucky they didn't have to spend much of their time patching up. "Let's join the others; I fear we may have more foes to deal with in that blasted tower." Looking towards the alien constructs, they stuck out of the landscape quite blatantly. It was as if their architects had gone to great lengths to try and made the natural environment even more daunting - they certainly had succeeded, with the dull grey stone and red spikes protruding all throughout the spires.
@Frizan@MiddleEarthRoze@POOHEAD189@Leidenschaft What if our O:CS charries are our FoC characters ancestors?!

I'd have to figure out exactly how much Altmer blood Sagax and Piper have in them, lol

@Frizan Shit, that couldn't have come at a better time for me. Thanks for the summary!

Not a problem!
<Snipped quote by Spoopy Scary>

That is expected, as dairy does make one's face tired.

@Frizan, where's your summary?

Right here baws

This is our storyThis is where the IC is right now. Everything is most certainly not awesome!

@Spoopy Scary
@Hank o.o why do I have the feeling that Narzul is going to kill someone? That last sentence tho.

rip Do'karth
Just remembered that Brona has a bite wound on her shoulder. I'm down for a collab if anyone would like to heal her.

Orintur knows some of that fancy-pants restoration magic, he could help. He's got a couple of wounds himself, by most of them are fairly benign and wouldn't take much more energy to heal up. The rest Orintur would just shoulder the burden of until he has time to heal completely.
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