GreivousKhan Member
Deus Vult
- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: greviouskhan
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 3459 (0.76 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- GreivousKhan 12 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
The Altmer don goofed.
Hilarious.
Oh, as a added note, the Hss’tafi are a group of sellswords that have lived in the mountains of Dragontail, and the Reach for a couple dozen generations. Thus their expert warriors in tough terrains like mountains, along with being better armed, skilled, equipped then your average forsworn (the latter due to nice donations by the orcs :P). So might prove invaluable in fighting forsworn rebels, just keep in mind forsworn obliviously outnumber them, so my advice would be to use them to train some of your soldiers in mountain warfare, and have them lead your troops as scouts and skirmishers. So they can point out good paths, and prefect ambush spots the enemy themselves might be using.
But they are highly specialized troops, so using them elsewhere, like in far northern marshes or Whiterun holds plains will be throwing them away. Plus being Sellswords they are not fully dependable, Redguard honor will see them through until their contract is done, but they wont follow suicidal orders. Can't spend their pay check if their dead.
But they are highly specialized troops, so using them elsewhere, like in far northern marshes or Whiterun holds plains will be throwing them away. Plus being Sellswords they are not fully dependable, Redguard honor will see them through until their contract is done, but they wont follow suicidal orders. Can't spend their pay check if their dead.
25h of Midyear, 4E 205
A large well-armed caravan of Ra-gada had set up a small camp outside the city, the guards not wishing any to enter the city proper. A heated discussion had followed, but eventually diplomacy prevailed and a messenger was sent to the jarl to report to him the agreement made at summit. The caravan had come bearing gifts of fine wine, precious metals and gemstones to grains, dried fruits, and spices. Among the Ra-gada was Bhuka, a renewed shipwright and reported master of his craft, along with an assortment of assistants.
Among the caravan were member representatives of the Hss’tafi, a renowned group of sellswords seeking opportunities in the conflict prone land of Skyrim, after all, Markarth is Skyrim’s capital for mercenaries.
27th of Midyear, 4E 205
Ali-baba frowned at the sight before him, not in annoyance, but rather in disbelief at the strange sight. Marimah, one of his most promising apprentices and a genius inventor of sorts, had asked him to step outside the palace that day, a difficult task with still so much work to do with the formation of Temijen’s new war Arcane college. In any case, it turned into a somewhat lengthy walk later and had brought them to the long but wide road that exited eastward from Sentinel, all the while Marimah practically bubbled with excitement.
Regardless of how many times Ali-baba asked he could get no coherent answer from the man. It was not until the he stood several minutes later before a great structure that resembled some strange cross between a boat and a raft did him come to understand a measure of his excitement. Ali-baba had heard mention of what he now observed first hand, for those who lived among the dunes sometimes employed something called a sand skiff, in which a lightweight framework was mounted on smooth runners and propelled by wind power. Relatively easy to construct, sand skiffs were rarely considered much more than a diversion, because they operated only on sand, relying on the wind to move, carry very little, and require an experienced pilot. Even so, where the winds are strong year round, and the smooth sands stretched as far as the eye can see in the Alik’r deserts, sand skiffs were not only the favored transportation, but favoured pass times as well.
However, the sight before him was no small skiff, but a large land vessel by the looks of it. He was shaking his head as Marimah explained how it operated, which in turn had given insight in where he had been for the past few weeks.
“It took some doing of course and more than a few septims for the necessary workers and materials, but I have finally done it!” Marimah’s face had cracked a rather large grin.
Ali-baba however knitted his brow in confusion. “How can such a thing move? It’s far too large for the wind to propel it!”
Marimah only grinned wider at that and raised a hand, a single brass colored ring adorning it. “Ah, but with this!” He proclaimed proudly, but at Ali-baba’s obviously confused look he added. “A wind spirit! Of the desert! I managed to harness ones power…it proved a little more difficult and dangerous then building the land schooner, but it was well worth it.”
Ali-baba looked at Marimah as if he had grown another head. “You tamed a wind spirit? May boy, how on Nirn did you do that?”
“Ah-ha! I thought you might ask, you see I managed to harness it inside a soul gem, only a fragment was all I needed, and then I bound it to me. I call it, a janni!” He announced proudly.
Ali-baba could only shake his head in disbelief as he looked back at the great…sand boat? It only took a moment more for him to realize the real prize however was not the sand ship at all, as impressive as it may be.
“Well do you want to take a ride? It’s a surprisingly smooth ride, and I can show you how my bound wind spirit works.”
Ali-baba smiled. “Oh yes… I think I’d like that in fact, after however I think I may bring this Temijen himself once we meet again, I’m sure he will have a use for it.”
27th of Midyear, 4E 205
The hoarse screams, the clatter of iron on steel, the whistle of arrows taking flight, followed by the unmistakable ‘thud’ when it struck an object or scream when they found their target. This was what Shiisthel of the Hss’tafi lived for, indeed this was the very art he was breed to do. He charged into the chaos, a blur of motion as he sprang into action following a volley of arrows from his fellows.
The war band of Ra-gada warriors had trailed behind the heavily laden down wagon, having tracked it as far back as the region bordering close to where Orsinium and Hammerfell met. The wagon was well guarded by what looked to be seasoned fighters all, wearing hard leathers and with short-bows strapped to their back. An abnormally well-equipped group to be sure and this made them worthy targets in Shiisthel’s eyes.
The redguard warriors had taken the group by surprise, and astounding sword play made quick work of those that arrows had not felled. Shiisthel’s ducked the heavy handed swing of one bandit, quickly following up with a parry that saw the axe fly from the other mans hand. A quick shoulder charge to the chest landed the man on his ass, all before another quick strike across his neck killed him before he had even hit the ground.
At the end of it the wagon was surrounded by many dead thieves, and only one single Hss’tafi warrior had been injured. Shissthel sheathed his sword after wiping it off on one of the dead corpses before approaching his bands prize. Normally the Hss’tafi operated as renewed sells words, having long migrated here from the dunes of Alik’r many generations ago. None knew these mountains as well as his folk, and they offered their services as caravan guards to most merchants who travelled the dangerous region.
Now and again though, the Hss’tafi would take advantage of a wayward group of travellers, primarily bandits, and even snag a bounty from one of the Hammerfell cities such as Dragonstar. Stepping over a corpse with an arrow through the eye, a nasty a wound and death any man could ask for, Shissthel pulled off the long dirty cloth that covered the wagons goods. Gasps quickly followed as his men saw what bounty they had managed to pillage; some of the most finely crafted weapons and armor he had ever seen! It had none of the fine edges or designs he was used to in Hammerfell, and it only took him a few heartbeats to realize this was orcish made tools.
Goods like these would be worth a fortune if sold to the right people, and it so happened there were few who appreciated a weapon or set of armor like the marital society of the redguards. Quickly covering the wagon once more, Shiisthel with the help of his fellows quickly set the wagon on its way once more, the band using old mountains paths to quickly arrive in Elinhir.
24th of Midyear, 4E 205
The past few days had been one of success and peculiar events for the redguard forces stationed in Valenwood, so it seemed to Varnklith in any case. The shores had been easy enough to secure, with several inland watch towers built from earthen embankments and fallen deadwood. The process of preparing the land had also been a simple enough task. Countless decades of working the arid landscape of hammerfell made working the soil gifted to them by the bosmer child's play. Varnklith had sent out patrols and brought back in those forces sent to hunt out thalmor forces still residing in Valenwood. At least that had been the front Varnklith had sold to the bosmer, though there was certainly truth to it.
His force had aided in capturing and smoking out what Dominion forces that had been left over after they had been forced from Valenwood proper. There remained loyalist groups no doubt, but with control of the coast and at least some control over the flow of information in and out of the province, they'd have little support. Varnklith other goal had been to learn as much of the landscape as possible, from imperials his forces had worked with, bosmer guides, locals, even from captured enemy agents. If they were to spend any time in this new alien land, they needed to learn as much as possible of its landscape.
Varnklith was thinking on this as he scanned the city of Haven from the window of his newest office in the coastal city. The settlement was so unlike those constructed by his own people, for it possessed none of the grand architecture of his own adopted home land. Still redguards were nothing if not quick at adapting to changing environments, and there seemed a surprising lack of hostility among redguards and Bosmer . A knock on the door caught his attention.
"You may enter." Varnklith said as he fell into his chair behind his desk.
A man soon entered a young redguard by the looks of him. He cleared his throat, a look of worry upon his brow. "General Varnklith? I have news from one of our scouts along the shoreline, said he saw...something odd, a small fleet of ships, but nothing like any altmer ships we had ever seen..."
"What? Well..what is it he saw?"
"Well...he described it as...ships with the skin like...a giant sand beetle...and sails like wings..." The young man shrugged, clearly as confused as Varnklith but unable to elaborate further.
Varnklith sighed, and though on it a moment as he scratched his beard. "I'll want to talk to the scout personally; maybe I'll get some further insights. In the meantime keep watch on the coast, it might very well be some new altmer vessel, we've prepared the ground work but we must still await word from Temijen before the next phase of our operation can continue, our only duty now is to hold this ground."
The young man saluted before turning to leave. Varnklith for his part was more than a little perplexed, he was as well taught a man as could be in this age, yet he could not imagine what it was the scout had seen. It was only almost an hour later, after skimming through one of his tomes he had brought with him to research on the province he now resided, "A Pocket Guide to the Empire and its Environs", did he quickly call the young man back. He remembered now where he had heard such a description before...and it sent a chill through his bones.
Leidenschaft said
Maps, just like the ones I've been posting... how odd...
People said they liked mine better. :P
Also get on the darn chat.
And the fact they have some cat features, but ya, forget what their even called.
Btw, Mixed Unit tactics hinted those little Khajiit that look like house cats might be able to cast spells...and not the minor cantraps either, but the powerful nasty kind. :K
Btw, Mixed Unit tactics hinted those little Khajiit that look like house cats might be able to cast spells...and not the minor cantraps either, but the powerful nasty kind. :K
heh, be funny if this Bosmer is one of those cat sub races that look JUST like the Bosmer.
Leidenschaft said
How were we supposed to know about the Maormer-Altmer Joint Assault, either? I expect Ferrand's going to be a bit taken aback by those actions. And as for the dormant High Rock ambassador at the Summit, sorry about that. I can't remember what it was I became occupied with. And I think High Rock and Hammerfell might have some chances to strengthen a bond somehow. I think its the Altmer-Maromer Joint Assault thing that's going to destabilize the relationship between Hammerfell and High Rock. I already have an independent nation of self-governing Orcs smack dab in the middle of my nation in the mountains. This business with Stros M'kai is hitting dangerously close to home for High Rock, this being their neighbor being attacked..Accepting the trade goods from Alinor would be like accepting the products the salesman is selling after watching him beat the shit out of your neighbor's son with his friend. The son being Stros M'kai. And in this instance, if the salesman was brave enough to do that, would you decline his wares?
As mentioned, the Orcs are between Skyrim and Hammerfell. In any case, I will keep that in mind when undead are eating your brains. ;K
Leidenschaft said
link pls
Use those breton eyes and check the OP.
26th of Midyear, 4E 205
The hot sun of the day beat down heavily on the streets of Sentinel. Vanquisher Temijen, having recently arrived form the Valenwood coast, took in the sight of the city, jewel of the Lillic Bay, everything from the cities high stunning arches to its grand glinting domes shinning in the noon sun. As he reached the docks and stepped foot on the pier, Ra-gada warriors stationed saluted Temijen the moment they spotted him, making way for his small entourage.
The road to the palace from the harbor was a straight forward enough, leading through the city’s main market place, a jostling throng of bodies like a living tide of moving people. It always took more time to reach the palace by the main road then it did by the wayside routes. Still, traveling by the main market square had always given him the opportunity to meet and mingle with the people who he ruled over. He even preferred going incognito now and again to assess the ways and whims of the people first hand.
So it was hours later after arriving at the palace, that a meeting between the highest ranked lords and nobles of the city was called. Well preparations were under way, word was sent from Rihad by way of a swift rider that Dornthal had had some success in the summit. It was further good news riding from the gains in Valenwood. It would be prefect evidences for the nobles to support his newest project...
Several hours later, Temijen sat at a large round table decorated with food and exotic cushions from many corners of Tamriel, a goblet of wine in hand, and a growing headache in his mind, a sigh at his lips.
"Such an institution would be unfathomable!" One noble proclaimed. Temijen recalled his name was, Butin, Lord Butin, and a wealthy noble at that who owned several warehouses, and with much influence among the merchant class. "The common folk mistrust magic far too much to stand for a mage guild of any kind within the cities walls."
"I am well aware of our peoples distrust for the arcane arts, and rightly so." Temijen responded. "However, we cannot continue to hold on to old prejudices if we wish to progress in these changing times. Further, an institutionalized order of mage would allow use greater control over rogue warlocks, while the ban of schools such as Illusion, Conjuration, and Necromancy will be strictly enforced."
"You're idea is sounding more like a prison then, college." one Noble voiced.
"Perhaps, but as you said, our relationship with magic has always been a tentative one. We have always employed its use, but are among the few races in Tamriel to not have a focused institution for guiding those who wish to learn the art beyond it complementing their swordsmanship. This will install greater control over those who practice magic in Hammerfell, allowing us much needed reprieve from those who would abuse it."
The nobles muttered over it a moment more, but one by one they announced their support of the idea. Thus the first Alik'r Order of Magus was well under way, just as Ali-baba had advised some weeks earlier....
26th of Midyear, 4E 205
The Imperial capital was truly a sight to behold even from a distance. Riding upon a dark brown horse, the Hammerfell messenger, a redguard by the name, Ciralen, was surely impressed by what he saw. Still he was hardly here for sightseeing. The moment he reached the cities great gates, he announced himself as an envoy of Vanquisher Temijen having arrived to finalize the agreements made prior by his councilor at the Black Marsh summit.
© 2007-2026