Lord Pie

Red Rose

Fritz

It became clearer that Duplo wasn’t in the mood to share, though perhaps that was just her way. He wasn’t used to people being so short, but then again he was only used to the rigid politeness that came with private schooling. He recognised the tone she was using, in fact it reminded him a little of one of his teachers, Mrs Fiander – the chemistry teacher he had constantly badgered with questions and attention, or at least the tone she had used when he first met her. It had taken him quite a few terms but the pair of them were now much closer, in fact Fritz was pretty sure he was the only student she really liked. Perhaps like in that situation if he just kept trying Duplo would start to warm to him, but then again maybe not – only time would tell, but she seemed so terribly interesting that he couldn’t help himself. He turned his attention to Kirin as she told them about her name and how her parents had named her after some flowers that blossom after the first frosts, and his thoughts turned to what a Kiri flower must look like, imagining that they must be exceptionally beautiful to be the inspiration to name a daughter after. He then suddenly noticed that Kirin was watching him, or rather examining him briefly, which caused him to blush a small amount before he turned his face away hoping that she hadn’t seen.

"What about your name Fritz, where did you get it? I've never heard it before either, it's so funny!"

“Funny?” Fritz repeated as Kirin laughed, an almost enchanting sound to his ears which caused a large grin to spread over his face.

“Well my parents told me that my name belonged to my uncle before it belonged to me and also to my grandfather before him – I’m actually Fritz the third I guess. It’s a German name like they were, though they were both killed in the War apparently. Traitors to Germany and heroes to Brittan, they worked in military intelligence” he explained to her, his thoughts turning back to the times he had spent with his own father listening to stories about the Carlisle family. Suddenly he realised that they would have no idea what he was talking about and chuckled before rubbing his neck nervously.

“Oh, eh, Germany is a country where I come from. There was a big world war, the biggest war there has ever been and lots of people died. Germany wasn’t very popular afterwards and they lost, but my father said that we always need to be proud of our heritage, especially after what had happened.”

His smile faltered slightly as he thought of his parents, wondering for the first time if he would be able to return home or not. The thought of being here forever had not occurred to him before, though he supposed it was entirely possible.

“I.. uh…” mumbled Fritz suddenly uncertain about everything that was happening to him, he glanced at Kirin and Duplo before turning and watching Ada and Aergar for a few moments. He realised that he was still lost, no matter how spectacular or exciting things may be.

“I wonder if I’ll get to go home…” he said out loud before looking again at Kirin. She too was trying to get home, but the only difference was that her home was actually in Emanseria. Dumfounded by the line of thoughts he was having Fritz suddenly turned and made his way to the edge of the camp before he sat amongst a patch of particularly thick grass and sighed. Lying on his back he gazed up towards the inky sky, suddenly aware that there seemed to be a great deal more stars than he had ever seen before, and at that moment a shooting star flashed across the sky. Searching for any familiar constellations it quickly dawned on him that there were none he recognised, and he started to consider the real implications of being stuck here for the rest of his life.

Fimion

He watched with curiosity as Wildflower and Aergar conversed with each other, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched her grit her teeth slightly at the imp’s goading. He watched her face intently and took in every expression and movement, trying subtly to not stare too much, but knowing that he couldn’t quite help it. As she gestured for the pair of them to follow her to the fire he did so happily, taking a seat on the old trunk next to her. She shot him a smile, an interesting smile that seemed to say that she was happy, but it also seemed to say that she maybe wasn’t quite sure how to act towards him. He hoped that they would be able to talk alone tonight, he wasn’t quite sure what he would say or what he wanted, but that was part of it, he figured. As she turned her attention back to Aergar he suddenly remembered the small pipe clutched in his hand, and so pulled out a small leaf-wrapped bundle of pleasant smelling dried and shredded plant matter as he listened to their conversation with mild interest and occasionally glanced around the camp. The herbs were a mix that he had traded with an elf from Jabari a few moons back – he had called it Caraleaf and Ginsar, whatever it was it was soothing and seemed to help him focus as well as smelling and tasting a great deal better than most smoking herbs.

As the imp spoke of her ‘interesting’ choice of companions, he couldn’t help but agree somewhat, especially after he learnt that the strange young boy considered himself an alchemist. Pondering what was happening with them as the boy in question walked towards the edge of the clearing alone he pushed some of the dried herbs into the pipe before lighting it with a smouldering stick from the fire, the light and almost fragrant smell spreading quickly as he inhaled. Blowing a few casual smoke rings he turned his attention back to Aergar as he suddenly mentioned Hiol being killed, the sudden change in tone of the conversation almost causing him to cough as his expression turned from one of a carefree demeanour to a more serious one. The little imp was so excited as he whispered something to Wildflower, before giggling to himself and going on to explain whoever this person was had torn out Hiol’s heart, and that this person was obsessed and coming after her. Suddenly Fimion was paying extremely close attention, the pipe again forgotten as he ran a hand through his tangled hair.

"In fact, I would say it is your mysterious nature that is so incredibly alluring. Or does that old ghost know something about you that I don't, hmm?"

“Hiol?” asked Fimion somewhat surprised that the satyr had met his end, and apparently in such a violent way. “Who would want to tear his heart out and for what purpose?” he wondered aloud before narrowing his eyes slightly at Aergar. “You know you seem to think it’s incredibly entertaining, makes me wonder if you’re not more involved hmm? After all we all know its your forest after all”. Fimion chuckled disregarding what he had said, oblivious to the fact that he may have actually been somewhat right.

“He didn’t squeeze your berries too hard did he?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Seems fair – I will come up with a reason, maybe initially it would be the perfect place to hide from assassins, but he gets caught up in it or some such. Plus I think Qa’skil would get on with the more… not alive characters of the group, and may end up trying to become a vampire or a possible a disciple of sorts for Valerion, or maybe even Rawlith, depending on how everything goes.

Looking forwards to seeing your pair of new characters in action!

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Also whilst it was down I made this secondary character… I hope he is all good. He wouldn’t be coming to High Hrothgar, but instead around for anyone to stumble into at a later time and draw into the plot maybe.

Qa’skil

Name:
Qa’skil

Age:
41

Race:
Khajiit

Class:
Thief/Scoundrel

Appearance:
Qa’skil cares very little for his appearance, his fur generally being dirty and matted in places. He is a primarily dark golden colour, however he looks almost grey or black due to the built up layer of dirt which covers the lighter patches of his coat. His right eye is permanently shut, a faint trio of scars running from his brow down through his eye and to his cheek, a result of a claw to the face in his youth which has left him permanently blinded in that eye – though now faded and aged the scars will remain with him for the rest of his life. He does possess an eye-patch however rarely remembers to wear it. His clothing was once of the finest quality, but neglect and wear have reduced them to mismatched tatty rags, though he occasionally obtains some fresh item it never takes very long until it is covered in dirt or torn somehow.

Personality:
Qa’skil is filled with so many lies and mistruths he is no longer certain what is true and what is not, he is a compulsive liar and also somewhat a kleptomaniac. He lives his life mostly one day at a time with little regards to the long term plan, deep down he is selfish and egocentric, believing himself to be more intelligent and generally better than the vast majority of other people, other than the very rare few who managed to make an impression on him and become his ‘friends’. He lacks empathy and kindness, though is skilled at pretending he doesn’t – if he really wanted to he could pretend to be a normal and upstanding member of any community, but he has simply lost the interest in pretending these days. He has a darkness to him which he keeps hidden from all but himself, a voice within him that speaks to him and tempts him to do things occasionally unspeakable in nature, though realistically this is just a part of him which allows him to escape responsibility for the darkest acts he commits. When he wants to Qa’skil can behave in an incredibly charismatic and charming way, seemingly attractive in a roguish manner, he can be very skilled at getting what he wants.

Bio:
Qa’skil was once an unimportant noble in the southern half of Elsweyr, the kingdom of Pelletine, however through reasons he keeps to himself he was forced to leave his native land and become a wanderer of Tamriel. His past is shrouded in mystery and deception and he very rarely speaks the truth when asked of it. During his travels he has not worked a single honest day, and instead survives by preying on others through a combination of theft, deception and worse. He has been a Skooma addict since he can remember, and often fondly looks back upon his time in Pelletine when he was able to indulge himself to his heart’s desire on the drug, but now must scrounge what he can at whatever price it is available, often a difficult task so far from his homeland. He attempts to make this task easier by becoming a dealer of the substance himself when he has access to a large enough supply, his many contacts in the illegal trade of Skooma (though generally very distant) remember his name and if they receive any contact from him will do their best to get the necessary ‘supplies’ sent his way.

Recently Qa’skil has been traveling the lands of Skyrim, enjoying the chaos that has been left in the wake of the civil war tearing the land asunder after a rather sizable bounty was placed upon his head by House Redoran of Morrowind due to his actions on Solstheim. Now pursued by Morag Tong assassins he keeps himself as low profile as possible, lest someone find out about the bounty and betray his location. He regularly sends misleading messages all over Tamriel to deliberately give the impression that he is based elsewhere to draw them off, though he is certain they have now tracked him to Skyrim and as such he keeps himself as alert as possible to their presence and is especially distrusting of any Dunmer he meets.

Equipment:
In terms of weaponry Qa’skill has a wooden bow and quiver filled with iron arrows, though he has some skill he is far from an expert marksman. He also carries a glass dagger, his oldest possession, being that it was forged specifically for him in his homeland.

He wears very little protective clothing, preferring to act as more of a stealthy shadow than a warrior. He also avoids any fair fight wherever possible, deception and cunning being his primary tools. He also has a great deal of skill in acrobatics, dodging and avoiding attacks over enduring them, he considers that any true skill in combat stems from not being hit by your opponent and eliminating them before they can strike in the first place.

He always carries his Skooma pipe on his person, preferring to smoke the substance over drinking it, though when it really comes down to it he isn’t that picky as long as he gets his next fix. He tries to have at the very least seven days’ worth of the drug, comprising of fourteen small vials wrapped carefully in with his thieves tools, all bound together in a leather carrying case. He also has a small bundle of raw moonsugar, for if the situation ever becomes desperate enough to attempt to refine some Skooma himself.

Other:
Qa’skil takes as little notice as possible at the events of the world around him, as such he is not aware of the Dovahfeyn and the meeting atop High Hrothgar – though he is of course aware of the Dragon’s spreading over the land.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Dreet-Na continued to stare at the Breton, a spark of anger showing through his dark eyes, though only for a moment before it was replaced by a smirk and the man’s tone changed to one that he was sure was filled with condescension and dislike. His words made it clear to Dreet-Na that he was more than sure of his own abilities, confident that he could kill dragons – after all that was why he, they, were here apparently.

"So tell me ‘Lizard’, what makes you think you can be of any assistance to the Dovahfeyn? All I see is an arrogant mage, and I doubt your skills in magic are of any use."

The man’s words hung in the air for a moment, before Dreet-Na could respond the snow-haired man he had passed on the trail entered the room with a metal helm clasped in his hands. It clearly looked to be a part of the set that this red-eyed troublemaker was wearing. With a sarcastic phrase the newcomer dropped the helmet, causing a very unpleasant and loud clanging noise before he retreated into a shadowed corner of the room – clearly the two of them were as good friends as Dreet-Na already hoped to be.

Again before Dreet-Na could respond the woman he had passed entered the room a few moments later, glancing at the helmet and then her ‘companion’ with a slight concerned expression on her face. The Argonian wondered briefly if these two had some kind of history or if they had simply shared the journey up to High Hrothgar together. At least this woman looked to be full of life, unlike the other pair, he decided – they both looked so pale and unwell that he briefly considered casting a detect life spell to see if they even were alive, but decided against it for the moment.

Next a Khajiit slinked into the room, curious considering Dreet-Na had not seen him at all on the path up – he would have remembered. His animosity towards the red-eyed one forgotten Dreet-Na stared for a moment at this newcomer, rolling his eyes as he looked away sullenly. So far he was not impressed by what he was seeing, though he would reserve his judgment until he knew better and had met the rest of his ‘companions’ in full.

Turning his gaze back towards the red-eyed man Dreet-Na bit his tongue, instead of retorting aggressively as was going to he simply responded “I’d think that we were here to save all of Nirn, not simply kill dragons. Seeing as they were already dead before this whole mess started I’d say that it’d be futile to focus on just that one task, though feel free to get yourself consumed by the World Eater or any of his kin if you so desire. I’ll be trying to figure out how the prophecy of the Dragonborn could be so utterly worthless and how us mere mortals can escape the very destruction of Mundus itself”.

He glared sarcastically at him before he dismissively opened the book he had taken and began to glance through the pages idly whilst he waited for the meeting to begin. He hoped that there would be others more intellectually inclined that would be joining their group, or indeed even the kind of heroes that he had expected – strong Nord men with full steel armour and valour in their hearts, not these questionably pale and odd individuals who looked more likely to try and join Alduin then destroy him. At this point Dreet-Na held little hope for the future success of Dovahfeyn and gloomily sat flicking through pages of the book.

Red Rose

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the unexpected intermission? :p

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Woo! What an unexpected break that was…

I've got a post all written up, but it's on my PC and I'm all in bed now (typical considering I had it ready to post about five mins after the guild went down). Will get it up first thing in the morning though :)

Red Rose

Alright - what is the short term RP plan? Let's keep this train moving :)

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

I don't like the taste. I suppose I don't mind tuna in sandwiches n shizz - but I have that only rarely. Fish tastes and especially smells bad. I can just easily live without seafood. Plus… lady pie, I guess you could call her doesn't like seafood either. So the situation is just stacked against fish - I'm predjudist to believe your outrageous claim.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

I don't eat fish - so jokes on them. But yeah I get that - we are completely screwing the fish over.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Leos Klien said
Fish are evil...

Go on good sir…?