Frizan

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Early Morning, 5th of Last Seed

Castle Dour, Chapel of the Nine

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"It'll ease your nerves, at the very least."

"I really don't see how it's going to help. They never really have before, that's not their way-"

"But have you ever really done it with sincerity? Token offerings will be met with token blessings, after all."

"Fine, if you honestly think it'll do something..."

"I do. Come on, there's no one else here yet. We'll be done and out before you know it."

Opening the chapel doors let out a pleasant fragrance of lavender and incense, the caretakers just having set up everything for the day's services. The braziers still burned warmly, providing light where the still-struggling sun could not. Priests and priestesses wandered, performing their morning duties while chatting and praying quietly to themselves, though a few gave Sagax and Piper friendly smiles as they passed. Piper averted her own gaze as they went by, looking her best to appear like she was very interested in the ceiling. Sagax could tell his sister felt uncomfortable being around so many strangers and a definitely bit vulnerable without her armor, so he stuck close by as he would in their youth.

"So, who will you pray to today? Maybe all of them?"

"All? Uh, no...no. I don't think Mara would care too much for my prayers, and Dibella...I don't particularly enjoy the 'blessings' she's given me. No, Stendarr will be enough for me." Shaking the focus off of herself, Piper returned the question. "What about you? Mara like usual?"

"Of course. I haven't prayed to the Mother in a while." Adding jokingly, "I've been a neglectful child." he said as he smiled.

Letting Piper make her way to Stendarr's altar on her own without any further pressure, Sagax knelt in front of the statue of Mara. Yet something felt...wrong. No, he felt wrong. Looking down, he noticed that he still had his sword fastened to his belt. He'd grabbed it instinctively before leaving for the chapel, something he couldn't recall doing before; such a thing had never been so automatic before joining the company. He always remembered his personal rule: No weapons near Mara's places of worship, now it seemed his principles were starting to slip.

After very sheepishly setting the blade aside near the chapel doors, Sagax knelt again before Mara, the feeling of shame now gone. Sagax first and foremost apologized for his sacrilege before beginning proper.

"Lady Mara, across these past weeks I have begun to feel myself...slipping. Dark thoughts enter my mind, and I act out of anger instead of compassion. I...I fear that I may have pushed away a very close friend because I did not, could not, restrain my tongue and clear my thoughts of impurities. I left innocents to die, so that we could strike a blow against the Ice Demon invaders...and I do not know if the decision was right.

I feel that, as the days pass, I hold on to my blade ever tighter. I'm...scared, Mother. Scared that the darkness that has taken over so many men before myself will soon devour me as well. I do not ask forgiveness for my actions, I only ask that you guide me away from whatever dark path I may travel. Whatever happens, I hope that I will ever continue to follow your light." Pausing for a moment, he quickly added another prayer. "Ah, and as always...please, help my sister find happiness. It isn't becoming of her to be so bitter."

Letting a long sigh escape his lips, Sagax felt his anxiety drain away. With his next breath came a calming warmth that blanketed his body. He felt...well, he felt better, at the very least.

As Sagax prayed, Piper stood staring at Stendarr's altar, trying to think of something to say. She shuddered, feeling eyes upon her. Glancing around her, she saw nobody but Sagax, and heard only faint whispers coming from other parts of the chapel. Looking back at the altar, she couldn't shake the sensation of being stared at. The phantom gaze felt like it was expecting something, but it felt patient as well. Waiting for her to speak, to say anything at all.

"...I...I come to ask for your blessing, merciful Stendarr. So that I may continue to protect those I love from harm and help them lead healthy, wholesome lives." Piper stopped and went to turn around to leave, but she felt the gaze again. Her prayers ceased, but it knew she had more to say, that she needed guidance. In her head rang words that her brother had said to her frequently: "You just need to let it out, Piper. If you keep your feelings caged up, they'll fester into something horrible."

Sighing, Piper bowed her head and began praying in earnest. "Please...help me steel myself for events to come, whatever misfortune fate may bring to us. When hard times strike, let my mind be clear and my heart without bias, for without either I will tread the path of the fool. I don't want anyone to be hurt because of my negligence or ignorance. Above all..." she paused, looking back to Sagax. "Keep my brother safe. And grant mercy to my father and mother, for they have done no wrong yet they are punished as villains." As each word left her lips, Piper became more confident and emboldened, like a great fire was being kindled inside her. "If harm must come to anybody, let it be me. My parents, my brother, Varulae...they have done nothing to earn any of their suffering. If nothing else, just let them be safe. I can take anything the world could possibly throw at me."

As the Imperial left, she didn't feel the gaze any longer, as it had been replaced by a feeling of strength that went all throughout her body. She felt...happy? Yes, happy. What a strange feeling.

"Ah, all done then, Piper? Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't finish sooner." Sagax said as he came to his feet and followed his sister back out of the chapel, not forgetting to grab his sword of course.

"Well, I just was thinking is all. You told me to be sincere, so I was."

"I see." he said, pleased with his success. "So? How do you feel?"

"Amazing!"

Well, that's what she would have said if Piper hadn't stopped herself. She didn't see the need to give Sagax that level of satisfaction. "...okay. I feel pretty okay now."

"Well...better than nothing. I certainly feel better."

"Lovely. Feel like expending any of that energy helping me move those boxes? That Gustav fucker is having us unload his whole damn house it seems like."

"Oh, I'm sure you've got that covered, sister dearest. Besides, there's a few things I need to see to."

"Uh-huh..."

A few hours later, 5th of Last Seed

City Streets of Solitude

It felt like he had perused every shop in the city, but Sagax found nothing he needed that he could also afford. A peddler tried selling him a necklace made out of Ysgramor's teeth(which in all actuality was just a useless bit of string holding together smashed up skeever bones) which he said would grant the Imperial limitless strength, but he "politely" refused. Sagax had also come across a jeweller's stall selling amulets of the Nine. Unfortunately, being the delicately-hand-crafted pieces of art that they were, the amulet of Mara Sagax had been eyeing was simply too expensive. It would have been trivially easy to swipe it as the stallkeep turned around to advertise his wares to passersby, and it would have been incredibly dishonest for the former thief to say that the thought hadn't crossed his mind even for a second.

Store after store, stall after stall, Sagax passed by every place in Solitude that conceivably sold somethig. Hell, he even looked at shoes, but he found nothing, neither valuable supply or friendly face. Yet there was one man that looked vaguely familiar, someone that the Imperial swore he had met before. Giving his best guess, Sagax gave a stab at greeting them.

"Frald? Is that you?" he asked cautiously, afraid he was about to make a fool of himself. As the man turned around, their eye widened with pleasant surprise.

"Well, look who it is. One of the Furies of Windhelm graces me with a visit!" It was Frald indeed, but he looked so different! Or perhaps a better word would be clean. The guard's hair had been tidied up, and his face was relatively dirt-free. Most shocking of all he looked, well, awake. A far cry from the man Sagax parted ways with in Dawnstar, with heavy bags under their eyes and soot and dirt dominating their body.

"Furies of Windhelm?" Sagax asked, a quizzical expression on his face. "That's a new one."

"Aye, it's a name we decided to give you and your Breton friend...hasn't spread much, but a few others have taken to it. I think it's catchy myself!"

"So, What brings you to Solitude, short one? Here to join the force?"

"I'm afraid I won't be joining you here, no." Sagax said, shaking Frald's hand firmly. "My company is here from Dawnstar. We set sail at noon. Heading to a city in High Rock, I believe."

"Ah, I see. A shame, we've got a lot of yellow-bellies here...could use someone with your level of..." Frald's face froze in thought, trying to find a more polite word. "...of courage. Yes, courage." Sagax grinned knowingly; he understood full well what his friend meant.

"Well, at least they'll have you here to whip them into shape!" However, taking note of Frald's civilian clothing, he withdrew his assumptions. "Oh, um, or am I mistaken? I'd imagine after Windhelm, you weren't too eager to jump back into things..."

"No, no, you're right. I tried retirement for a few days, but it just didn't feel right. You know, with those demons out and about right now. Though I am on leave at the moment. Alarik's in the training yard, I believe, and I'm sure Vori's pacing along the walls somewhere."

Ah, Frald's fellow guardsmen. Sagax remembered them. Alarik had the look of a brute, but was very soft-spoken. Vori was, uh, the drunk one. The very drunk one. "I had a feeling you guys would keep together. I should probably see Vori, I don't imagine she'd be happy if I stopped by and never said hello..."

"Ah...about Vori..." Frald said slowly. There seemed to be a hint of embarrassment in his tone. "Well, what you have to understand about Vori is that she's...hm, how do I put this? She's very skittish, I guess you could say. Remember before we left, I joked to Vori about the tavern wench she was infatuated with before you?"

"Of course, though I don't think she thought it was all that funny admittedly."

"Well that's because it wasn't a joke. Really, I suppose it was an honest question, but I know her too well for it to have been anything other than rhetorical." Pausing for a moment to gauge whether or not the Imperial understood, he continued. "She's found someone else. In truth, she's forgotten all about you.

Sagax was...surprised to say the least. Vori seemed really genuine in her words and actions. Was she truly so flighty? "Um, I see...that's a little disappointing, honestly."

Frald shrugged. "That's just how she is; always been that way. Trust me...I ought to know." He ended his words quite bitterly. Sagax didn't have to think very hard about why.

"Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped. As they say, there's plenty of fish in the sea. Do you know who she's with now, out of curiosity?"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Frald's tone changed from bitterness to frustration. "Some damned milk-drinker who says he killed a dragon. Vori goes crazy for stories like that, she was so enamored with his stupid story that she didn't even look at the idiot's 'proof'. For Talos' sake, it was a mammoth tusk! He tried passing it off as a dragon's fang. Bought it hook, line and sinker though."

"Wow, really dodged an arrow there then." thought Sagax.

"She's a decent friend, but gods above she can be very shallow. I wouldn't feel too bad about it, Sagax. You deserve someone more loyal anyway. Maybe a bit less crazy than you, though." Frald smiled and lightly slapped Sagax's arm. "Someone has to hold the leash, right?"

"Ha! I don't know, I don't think many women would be able to handle my tendencies to hurl myself at danger like I did back at Windhelm. My sisters tries, but Mara knows even she has a hard time with it."

Their banter continued for a while, talking about the various events happening around Tamriel until the sun reached high into the sky. Remembering that the company was going to be taking off soon, Sagax once again parted with Frald, and they wished each other good fortunes as they went their separate ways. Frald made his way back to Castle Dour while Sagax headed for the docks and the Kynes Tear

Noon, 5th of Last Seed

Solitude Docks

---

"Need a hand?" quipped Sagax as he whisked one of the two boxes out of Piper's arms. "Sorry I'm a little uh, late."

"Pfft, a little late? These are the last to be loaded, you dork!" Piper responded with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "Well, I don't think you would have been able to help much anyway. I've been hauling some pretty heavy stuff." Shifting her grip on the large, clanking crate, the Imperial woman continued. "Where've you been, anyway? You said you had things to do?"

"Oh, just to a few shops. Nothing I needed, and the things I did need I couldn't really afford..."

"Right, you guys didn't get paid."

"Yeah..." Deciding against getting onto the reliability of his employers, Sagax shifted the topic. "I bumped into a friend after my little shopping non-spree. Name's Tsleeixth, he's a pretty nice guy. Well, there's Keegan, too, but he's kind of a 'true' Altmer."

Glancing at the Argonian and elf for a brief moment, Piper snapped her head back with a scowl on her face, but not entirely directed at Sagax. "You shouldn't hang around that kind of crowd."

"What? Why? I just said, Keegan's alright and Tsleeixth's really nice..."

"Sagax, one's a High Elf, so that should say enough-"

"What about Varulae?"

"An exception to the rule! And the other one is..." Piper paused to make a sound of disgust. "An Argonian."

"Piper, if you would just take the time to talk to him, you'd find him to be pretty pleasant-"

"People are always nice at first, Sagax. But then they take off the mask, and you see them for how they are in the dark..."

Sagax just shook his head. "There it is again. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever you say, but the first damn thing out of you mouth when I save your sorry ass from getting mugged better be 'oh thank you Piper, you're the best sister in the world and you're always right'!"

"And if that happens I will definitely say that...but it needs to happen first."

"Oh, it will, I'm sure of it." By then, the two had gotten to the Kyne's Tear, where they set down their cargo with the rest.

"Sweet merciful Stendarr, finally done..." Piper said with a sharp exhale as she wiped a waterfall of sweat from her face. "Come on, let's get our stuff, I think we're casting off soon."

Hauling their own gear on board, the siblings found a comfortable place to chat on the top deck before the company finally set sail. Hopefully where they were going, the grass would be greener so to speak.

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Discussion

@Frizan This may sound like an asinine request/question. But would prompts allow more than one story to be posted? (Maybe that should be an actual prompt some time. Multiple stories. ;P) Before the voting period? Like maybe showing possible prompts to the forum (and get feedback on which story should be entered.) My limited experience with this was two different versions of the same story posted by someone. (and they eventually chose one of them) from outside suggestions.

This is sort of an unwritten rule of sorts. But how picky are you with (should one be) having outside assistance/suggestions? (obviously, as long as no one's outright writing sections for you. I'd assume it's alright?)

@SleepingSilence

For this prompt, I'd prefer one story per person. Though in the future, prompts may involve showing multiple outcomes of the same base story or something similar.

As for taking outside feedback into consideration, I have no qualms about it. As long as, as you said, no one is writing your entry for you.

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Discussion

Is there a minimum wordcount?

@Silver Carrot

Negative

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Sagax's musings on the last true Emperor, Martin Septim, Last Heir of the Dragon Blood

As a child, my father would tell me stories about the Empire's past, local heroes, its Emperors and their achievements. I remember my favorite story being the exploits of the Hero of Kvatch and Martin Septim, illegitimate heir to the Septim dynasty sired by Uriel Septim VII himself.

Just what was going through his head when they broke the news to him? When they told him his whole life prior was an utter lie and that he, and he alone, was the last surviving heir of Emperor Uriel Septim VII(may he ever sit by the side of Tiber Septim)? Surely he was confused, maybe with a hint of pride...or perhaps resentment? My father admitted that he could not tell me, as the man didn't leave behind many writings, and he confided in few, if any, that he interacted with.

The reign of Emperor Martin Septim(may he ever sit by the side of Tiber Septim) was sudden and unfortunately short, yet he accomplished so much in just a few weeks time. He led the counter-assault on the Bruma Oblivion Gate alongside the Hero of Kvatch and saved the city from destruction, just before sacrificing himself to forever seal the Oblivion Gates and cast Mehrunes Dagon back into his realm of obsidian and fire. But before then? Nobody really seems to know, as the short-lived Emperor was ultimately an unknown entity before the Oblivion Crisis. Rumors abound that Emperor Martin was a cultist of the Daedric prince Sanguine in his youth, but evidence is lacking, and such gossip was most likely concocted by those opposed to His Imperial Majesty.

I was always found stories of Emperor Martin and the Hero of Kvatch interesting and almost uplifting, and now I believe I know why. Their stories exemplify that ordinary people can eventually become larger than life, that a man need not always remain at the station designated to him for the rest of his days. Emperor Martin lived his early years as a simple priest, while the Hero of Kvatch was nobody at all. But then they became so much more, they became legends, the subject of heroic tales told around fires all over the world.

In the times we live in now, we could use more heroes. Above all, we could use more people with the wisdom and courage of men like Emperor Martin Septim and the nameless hero that saved Tamriel.

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Discussion

@Frizan No word limits, or other rules eh? Because I'm pretty sure mine's going to run a little long with what I have in mind. :P

@SleepingSilence

That will absolutely not be an issue! Go nuts!

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Discussion

Is there a minimum amount of different area's the must cross?

@Calle

As long as there's at least one change in geography, ala forest into desert, it will satisfy the requirements.

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Discussion

Feel free to direct any feedback or questions here! Please keep discussion relevant to the associated contest. All other Guild posting rules also apply.

RPGC #18: Adventure Calls - Prompt and Entries

Adventure Calls

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The clouds of April have dispersed, giving way for the bright and warm May sun. The grass and the trees begin to regrow, nourished by the sun's intense rays. Temperatures are rising, doing away with the need for prohibitive jackets and heavy coats, and daylight reaches long into the afternoon. So much you could do, and all the time in the world to do it. Why not get a little...adventurous? Climb those mountains, swim those rivers, and walk paths untrodden by man or beast. Set your sights high, and climb higher!

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Contest Rules

1. This contest will be about physical journeys, and the main character(s) should find themselves traversing several areas to reach their destination. What they find along the way and at the end is entirely up to the writer.

2. Characters must have coherent reasons for them to be going on their journey.

3. Please be descriptive of the characters' surroundings. Give the reader a bright and clear picture of what you want to show them.

4. Please title your entries!

Grounds for disqualification

1. Plagiarism.

2. Your entry having no clear connection to the prompt.

3. Gratuitous violence or gore.

4. Explicit sex scenes. Fade to black is fine.

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Please submit your entry here in the Prompt and Entries thread by Thursday, May 24th. Direct all questions and feedback to my PM box or the associated Discussion thread, and I will gladly answer them.

Please hold off all votes and critiques until the proper thread has been erected for this prompt.

RPGC: Trophy Case

The Winner of RPGC# 17: Singing in the Rain

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Silver Linings by @Mattchstick

"Huh, so it begins again," a certain man said aloud to no one as he stood on the sidewalk and glanced up at the sky. The gentle blue was being rapidly hidden by grey and black clouds, signalling the start of yet another rain storm. For you see, it was always raining here. The Sunless City, some called it. Statistically, it was very much like any other modern city; dense buildings, costly housing, and terrible traffic at certain hours of the day. It would have been a decent enough place to live if not for the weather. Some liked the rain. Some did not. Almost none liked it for at least three hundred days every year. Take into account the lightning strikes and occasionally power outages, it was not a very happy place to live, and more than a few struggled with retaining happiness.

The man on the sidewalk was not one such person. He saw past the clouds to the cheery sun that was still glowing overhead, and anyone within earshot would invariable hear a "silver lining" to whatever situations and storms had come on that particular day. Not a single thing had happened in his life that he had not found a way to look over or around to it eventually dissipating.

He was not a particularly fortunate man at that. He was merely a blue-collar worker with a simple job, one that he had retained for going on forty years. He lived alone in a small house with just enough income to pay the rent and feed himself, yet he managed to stay positive. This was a trait that had followed him from the womb, since his name was, of all things, Bartholomew Goodheart.

Anyway, dear Bartholomew had been on a morning stroll to enjoy a rare sunny day. There were still puddles and dripping eaves, but at least the glinting rays gave the water a lovely golden shimmer. He had glanced up at the bright blue expanse with a twinkle in his eye and had given it a proper smile.

"Huh, a good bit of sun in the city. Pleasant change, it is," he said in his strange form of speak. As usual, a passerby gave him a strange look for a moment before continuing on their way, phone pressed to ear as they engaged in a bitter conversation. Bartholomew watched them pass, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah well, there's a silver lining. At least the man is being productive. More so than myself, I should say."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the clouds began to return to their place. The man audibly grumbled as he attempted to open an umbrella without hanging up his phone.

"Ah well, at least ye have an umbrella," Bartholomew called to him, showing the man his empty hands. All he had was a brown leather jacket and ragged pants, as he had left his own umbrella at home. The other fellow rolled his in a most rude manner and scurried away. The first of many raindrops splattered the shoulder of his jacket as he began to walk back across town. He had traveled some distance, you see, and was not within running distance of his place of residence, and so he did not bother. He hummed a tune that was almost impossible to hear, now that the rain was in full force.

"Ah well, at least there's no lightning," he said.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a brilliant bolt of electricity flashed across the sky, soon accompanied by a deep roar of thunder.

"Ah well, at least it's air-lightning," he said.

A moment later, a similar bolt flickered through the sky, drawn to a rod on a nearby building. It crackled loudly, causing him to wince ever so slightly.

"Ah well, at least we have the lightning-poles to keep it away from the ground," he said, increasing his pace.

To his surprise, a third bolt of lightning tore its way through the air and hit a nearby street lamp, causing the bulb to for a fraction of a second glow brightly before bursting into a shower of glass fragments.

"Ah well," Bartholomew said after a long pause, making a turn and heading into the last straight towards his residence. "At least I'm within eye-shot of home and heat."

He jumped as a car zoomed by him, swerving across the road and, to no one's surprise but his own, crashed directly into his house. A large portion of the car was now occupying his living room. The engine came to an abrupt halt and, with a grunt, the driver shoved the door open and climbed out, apparently unharmed. Bartholomew nodded at him in approval.

"Ah well, at least the driver's not hurt."

The driver looked down at his stomach, turned very pale, and collapsed dead on the pavement. Bartholomew stood still for a moment, then shrugged.

"Ah well, at least the car can be towed. Shan't be an easy repair but it's only a building after all."

A quiet crackle came from the vehicle as a loose wire in Bartholomew's home sparked, making contact with the gaseous fumes that had been spilling into his house from the now empty tank beneath the car. With a brilliant glow that would make the sun ever so slightly jealous, the house erupted in flames.

At this point, one would likely stop pressing their fate and perhaps seek shelter elsewhere. Bartholomew Goodheart was no such man. Absolutely refusing to turn aside his stance from five or six consecutive coincidences, he spoke again:

"Ah well, at least I've got a little money in me pocket."

"Oh?" a harsh voice said beside him. He turned and found himself facing a man in a hoodie who had just emerged from a nearby alleyway. He had covered half his face with a scarf and was wielding a rather large pistol that was aimed in the direction of Mr. Goodsoul's head.

"Hand it over. Now."

Bartholomew raised his hands in surrender, then slowly removed his wallet and tossed it to the man, who scooped it up and shoved it into a pocket. He turned to retreat into the alley as a voice called to him.

"Ah well, at least I've got good health."

The robber turned back around in surprise, still waving the gun haphazardly. He was a rather inexperienced sort of robber and, as a result, did not have the safety engaged. He shot Bartholomew in the leg, causing him to collapse to the ground in a poorly-placed puddle. Wincing in pain and grabbing the injured limb, Bartholomew searched his mind for a good thing to find about this situation. He admitted that he was running short on them by now. The robber was still standing nearby in shock, seemingly unsure of whether he should run or call for help before his victim bled to death. Bartholomew caught sight of him and forced a smile.

"Ah well," he said weakly. "At least I've only been shot once."

The robber shot him again for, at this point, no real reason. Somewhere deep inside Bartholomew, an organ exploded.

Aware that he likely only had minutes to live, the poor man uttered one final positive observation. One that absolutely could not be altered. One that was so conclusive that it was at this point in history no more than a joke.

"Ah well...at least...Hitler is dead."

The robber paused, then lowered his gun and removed his hood and scarf. Bartholomew's eyes widened in shock as he saw a familiar cut of hair and mustache, one that had not been seen for many years. The man grinned an evil grin, staring him down with dark, sinister eyes. He said the last word Bartholomew Goodheart would ever hear:

"NEIN!"

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

I've started working on my character sheet, and was also taking a peek at everyone else's characters. So, I was wondering if diversifying was better or should I make my character as I wish and not worry if I'm like... archer number 5 or something. ^_^;

*thinking*

@Greenie

Not a GM but while characters with unique skillsets are encouraged, if it makes more sense for the character you've created to specialize in archery, blade, sneak etc. that's fine. If a skill gets too saturated, the GMs will publicly announce what skills future characters cannot specialize in. GCold did this in Chapter 1 for a couple of skills, but that didn't come for a very long time.