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The Origin - Greybridge





When concerning discussions of freedom, whether personal freedom, religious, or political, a singular question always presented itself, no matter the origins of the conversation. What price must one pay to obtain their desired freedom? For no matter what one desires, when it comes to freedom, true and liberated freedom, a price must always be paid, a sacrifice to be made. This much was especially true for Rhona. Long had she suffered under the heavy hands of her former master. Five nights had passed since her escape from the realm of the Abyssal Empire, the world beneath the surface, an escape embroidered with traversing the dangerous caverns until she emerged to the world above. As the single stroke of luck would have it, Rhona had exited via an old mining system. There, she was greeted by the brilliant sight of starlight, and the moon, a heavenly sight compared to the damp darkness of the Underempire. Tears of joy had streamed down her face, so moved that she fell to her knees, and wept, openly without fear of consequence for the first time in decades.

Over the course of the next three days, Rhona stumbled through the wilderness, scavenging for food and drinking from puddles. Her stomach ached viciously for sustenance, and kept her in a near state of delirium. Again her luck would change as she came upon a well traveled road alongside a mighty flowing river, here the trees were in bloom. She followed the road north, until a bustling city came into view. She stepped off the main road, not wanting to be seen. From the cover of bushes and shrubs, her dark green eyes surveyed the city, there was a great wooden sign that boasted the words, Greybridge, though to her illiterate eyes it was only fanciful markings. She had vaguely recalled what the dwellings of the surface looked like, so long had she spent her time underground. Here, she could see the hustle and bustle of the denizens, curiously, she noticed an influx of people arriving in the city in oxcarts, piled high with their valuables. There were far too many people arriving for it to be a mere marketday. She decided to brave the road, and slipped into the city, so great were the masses of people, that no one paid her any attention.

As Rhona navigated through the city, her tattered cloak concealed her features in shadows, she was careful to conceal her hands, the folds of the cloak falling around her in a woolen embrace. Greybridge sat perched alongside the same flowing river she had seen earlier. Near the riverfront were squalid homes made of daub, wattle and wicker. Farther into the city was a row of townhomes and manors, the homes of the merchants and upper class. For a few hours, Rhona navigated the streets, the soles of her boots slapped quietly against the cobblestone path. She was growing hungry, and knew she needed to eat soon, she had gone far too long without food. Circling back to the market square, Rhona lingered in the alleyways, watching, surveying, taking special interest in the food vendors, her eyes lingering on the butcher, fruit, and baker stalls alike. Her mouth watered, salivating heavily as she watched people flock to them, freshly baked bread, salted meat, shiny red apples, all of it looked inviting.

Desperation, the causation for foolish mistakes. Desperation, the price of her freedom. She stepped forward from the shadows of the alleyway, and wove in and out of the throngs of people. With quick, practiced ease, Rhona plucked an apple from the fruit vendor who was far too preoccupied with filling a basket of grapes, plums, and pears for one patron. One, red shiny apple acquired. Slinking by the butcher’s table, she watched as the rotund man cut down a cow carcass, showing a potential patron the quality of the meat with the marbling of fat. He was distracted. She moved deftly, her hand snaking out to steal a string of cooked sausages. However, just as she pivoted on the heel of her boot, Rhona stumbled, dropping both the sausages and the apple.

“Thief!”

She had been discovered.

At the cry echoing within the market square, the clanking of metal armor filled the air. Guards. Panic filled her, and in the blink of an eye, Rhona bolted, shoving aside anyone who dared get in her way.

“Stop! Someone, stop that thief!”

The cries of the guardsmen echoed through the air, drawing attention of those whom she sprinted past. Adrenaline was a long-term companion of Rhona’s, the notion of being caught pushed her on ahead, where she sprang over crates, vaulted over towering oxcarts piled high with wares and valuables alike. Without knowing the layout of the city, Rhona was running blind, following the curve of the cobblestone road. She spared one glance backwards, and was surprised to see that she had put a considerable distance between her and the guards.

WHAM!

“Ah!” Rhona cried out as she slammed into a wall. No… not a wall, a person. She glanced up at the person, her dark green eyes filling with fear and trepidation. This would be her undoing, this was the price she had to pay for her fleeting freedom, freedom that was short lived. She was certain of it.
@Poohead189 Should we do a collab for this next scene, or would you like for us to do individual posts?
I'm okay with keeping things OOC here for now, but I feel like if the RP keeps going for a good while, it would be useful to start a Discord up.
Two days ago

This had been unlike anything Rhona had ever experienced before in her life. She was…alone. Truly alone for the first time in her life. Alone, in the sense that there was no one else to speak with, no one else to turn to, absolutely no one. And for the most part, that idea did not overwhelm her. She thought mostly of Mercius, and of what her troubled dreams meant. When she closed her eyes, she saw nothing but hellfire, daedra, the wails of the dying. There would be times when Mercius would shake her from her sleep, calling her name in a worried tone. And she would wake, gasping for air, soaked in sweat, as if she stood next to a very hot fire, and every breath she tried to take, was wrenched from her very being.

She found the steel armor awkward, and it chaffed her in uncomfortable ways. Rhona felt out of place, and by the second day in, she thought that she was touched with disease. Perhaps these dreams weren’t some prophetic vision, and that the voice that called to her each night, “You have been chosen…”, like a priest repeating a mantra, hinted to something far more sinister.

What happens when I arrive in Kvatch, and I do not find the meaning to this dream? What if I am sick with some disease that is eating my mind? I should have stayed at the chapel with Mercius. He is old now, and there is no one else to tend to the dead., she thought at times.

Being alone at night, sleeping under the stars, was a new experience for her, one that left her stiff, and cold, when waking up in the morning. Mercius had given her what provisions he could spare, and showed her how to make a camp. Travelling by foot wasn’t ideal, but they had no horse to spare. There were two mares well past their youth, and they were to pull the wagon. Without them, the wagon could simply not be pulled. She wouldn’t hear of Mercius’ suggestion to take one of the spares.

Oh you foolish man, Mercius…, Rhona thought.

By the second day, she had reached the Silver Road, leading south towards the Imperial City. She kept in mind Mercius’ words, “Stay off the roads if you can afford, do not stray far, but stick to the trees. It’ll give you cover lest there be folk out there who seek to rob you, or worse.”.

She did as he said, and stuck to the off-beaten path, walking between the cool canopy of the trees. Rhona took this time to reflect on her life. Whatever may lay before her, she did not regret what she had to endure to bring her to this moment, whether it was a foolish endeavor or not. Of course, she wished to have better siblings, and better parents. She wished to have someone to call her own, someone to love her endlessly… her being ached for that. But, as she had come to accept with her time at the chapel, some wishes will simply not be granted. And Rhona had come to terms with that, love, familial love, romantic love, that was not to be a part of her life. She felt more of a caretaker, than a potential wife.

Not all prayers could, or would be answered.

And, it wasn’t as if she devotedly served Arkay, it was a… mutual understanding. A respect. Someone had to see the dead off, to prepare them, to help them cross over. And it was something that she found herself enjoying immensely. After all, the dead do not speak. They did not want, they did not pester you with meaningless questions. The dead… were simply dead. She was their caretaker. A shepherd for the dead. Rhona smiled at that thought.

As she carried on through the shadows of the trees, Rhona heard the wheels of several wagons approaching. Curious, she neared the treeline, ducking behind a bush to see who approached. It was a gaggle of cheery-faced travellers, all adorned in extravagant clothes. Although, extravagant might not be the correct word… flamboyant? Yes… yes that suited them better. She could blue and purple silks, beaded brassieres, and maidens with flowers in their hair. Rhona counted quickly. There had to be close to a dozen in their company. Perhaps she could hitch a ride with them?

Cautiously, she stepped from the underbrush, and waved at them, trying to appear as friendly as possible.

“Hullo!”, she called out.

“Aye! Who goes there?” A man with a bright red beard with beads adorning his ears returned, reigning in the horses that drove his wagon.

“Where abouts are you headed?” Rhona asked.

“Why, to Kvatch! Haven’t you heard of the Summer Games?”

“Ah… yes! I have…” She had not. “I wouldn’t suppose you have an extra seat to spare in your wagon? I’m headed to Kvatch myself.”

The man with the red beard looked to his counterpart, a Redguard woman adorned in red silk, and golden jewelry. “What do you think, Zakyra?”

“Well, I certainly say we do. Can’t let a poor young thing like that wander about the countryside on her own.” The woman named Zakyra waved her aboard, pointing to the rear of the wagon.

“Climb in back, and we’ll be off!”

And so, Rhona came to know that this group were actually a band of troubadours, they were seeking to perform as entertainment for the Summer Games. She could hardly recall any of their names after the first day, there were so many different faces, so many different colors.

1st Last Seed, 3E 433

The wagon full of troubadours came to a halt outside of the city, they were going to set up a camp. Rhona marveled at the sight of the city, it was unlike anything she had experienced in her small village life. This was the farthest she had been away from home. She bade her thanks, and said her goodbyes, and promptly set off into the city.

The dreams had continued, last night in particular left her feeling on edge. It was as if she could smell sulphur, and when she inhaled, it singed her nose hairs. What in Arkay was happening? Now that she was here, Rhona had no idea on where to even start. Was she expecting the city to be in flames upon arriving? Because it certainly did not look the part. There was much life… jovial voices, singing, children running afoot, music playing, the people here were in high spirits. She decided to explore the city, to at least see what it had to offer, and then, to see if she could find the meaning behind her dreams.

@POOHEAD189@Gcold

I made some updates to Rhona’s sheet!

Let me know if there’s anything else I can expand on!
peeks in, dusts off the cobwebs, cracks knuckles

Hi strangers :3


After some serious consideration, these are my favorite moments:










Vengeance of the Deep ~ Favorite Moments


Dervish and I have come up with this idea, seeing as how we are nearing almost a year since this game began, and we want to hear your thoughts on what your favorite IC moments are since the game started till now. You can pick your top 2 favorites for each of the categories below. Please provide the appropriate post link for each category, and tell us what you liked about each post, and why!

Categories:
1. Comedy
2. Action
3. Dialogue
4. Character Development
5. Character Relationship

Categories Explained:

1. Which post was your favorite that made you laugh?
2. Which post was your favorite that you feel displayed the best fight scene, or moment of action?
3. Which post was your favorite that showed the best form of character dialogue?
4. Which post was your favorite that you feel showed the best form of character development?
5. Which post was your favorite that showed a relationship between two characters? (Friendship or Intimate)
Everything Remains As It Never Was




On the horizon, before the first light of dawn kissed the lands, a trio of bright orbs burst forth unto the sky above. On land, another three burst from within the dense coastal forests. For those in the city who were awake to witness them, only a few understood their significance, but for the Legion, it is a sign of terrible things to come.

They were coming.

Anvil - 24th of Second Seed 6:30am[

“You know, when I asked if you had companions who would be interested in my proposal, I wasn’t quite expecting you to be quite so popular.” Roux pointed out, setting down what was likely the last of the crates to be loaded before the Intrepid would depart its moorings and set sail to the North, leaving the Gold Coast behind, and presumably, the war that had gripped Cyrodiil. Daro’Vasora glanced over her shoulder at the man as she checked over an itinerary and list of her companions that had agreed to come along, along with those who didn’t. The important thing was that they knew what ship was offering free passage if they had a last moment change of heart, but overall she was pleased with how successful Latro, Brynja, and herself had been in locating everyone over the previous day to let them know of the potential “job” and a chance to start somewhere without so much heavy baggage for them all. For the first time in a long while, Daro’Vasora felt hopeful for things to come. Even though she planned on ditching Roux at the earliest opportunity, she still felt that Hammerfell was where she was meant to go. For what reason, however, she couldn’t guess.

“A deal’s a deal, these people have been through a lot, and if you want me to join you on your expedition and begin to trust you again, you won’t question it.” The Khajiit replied, most of her own gear stored away. In truth, she always enjoyed sailing and the respite from life on land, this was one of those few opportunities to approach things with a fresh body and mind. It was always easy to forget about the troubles of the world when all around you was just an endless blue horizon and the most breathtaking night sky.

“Of course.” Roux replied with a smile, letting one of his crew members deal with the crate he’d carried aboard as he approached the Khajiit, “If they’re friends of yours and need a way to get away from the troubles of Cyrodiil, it’s not as if it’s trouble to take a few extra bodies for the voyage. We’ve the space for it, and I always make sure there’s enough supplies to last a long while in case of unforeseen circumstances like poor weather, or Kyne forbid, the ship bottoms out and wrecked. Hopefully most of them decide to lend a hand; we’ll all be richer at the end of it.”

“Right.” She replied, whether agreeably or dismissively, Roux couldn’t say.
The din of lookout bells began to toll, ringing out across the harbour from the watchtowers as shouting from the garrison suddenly broke out in alarm.

“What’s that about?” Daro’Vasora asked. Instead of replying, Roux grabbed his spyglass, looking out towards the western skyline.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Ships?”

The Breton nodded, handing the spyglass over for her to look, “Looks like the Dominion wasn’t content to gobble up Skingrad without a fight. They’ve only been itching for a war for the past thirty bloody years, the Dwemer invasion was too good of an opportunity to pass up. We need to prepare to sail, now.” Roux urged, barking orders at some of the crew on deck, who immediately began preparations. He turned back to Daro’Vasora, “Were you expecting anyone else?”

In truth, only a handful of those she managed to contact the day before were here; others, she assumed, weren’t coming. However, if there was a chance to find any of them, it was at the Flowing Bowl. The only person she knew wouldn’t respond well to seeing her again was Rhea, and as much as she didn’t care for the Imperial, she felt that the Imperial deserved to be given the same courtesy that she extended everyone else. As much as Daro’Vasora didn’t agree with Rhea’s methods, one thing was clear; she did everything she thought she had to save those under her care. It was a great strength, and it would be wrong to abandon her because of bad blood.

Great, I have a conscience now. Damn.

Brynja had set to helping those joining the Intrepid, find a sleeping space for the duration of the voyage. She resurfaced just as the bells began to toll, it was unnerving in the least. Brynja picked her way across the deck, and managed to catch the last bits of conversation between Roux and Daro’Vasora. She frowned at the news of Dominion ships on the horizon, and just as he asked the Khajiit if there was anyone else, she couldn’t help butting in, “Aye. Sora, I’ve not seen Rhona in the past two days. She lent me her room at the tavern, but I’ve not seen her since. I spoke with Megana, and she said Rhona was going off to find some food for the night on the 22nd. I can’t leave her behind, we need to find her. And…” Her words faltered, the thought of leaving Rhea behind saddened her. She had done so much for the group, couldn’t they at least return the favor? “And I want to find Rhea, at least give her the chance to come with us. She’s looked after us the best she could, she got us this far… let me ask if she wants to come with us.”

“She deserves that much. Go, find her. I’ll head to the Flowing Bowl and see if I can find anyone else. She’ll be much happier to see you than me, and we don’t have time for that shit.” Daro’Vasora said, grabbing her mace and turning back to Roux. “You better not fucking leave without us,” she warned before turning to sprint down the gangplank and head back into the city proper. Things were about to go to Oblivion in a hurry, and she wanted to get ahead of it.




The bells continued to toll, their metallic echo spreading across the city and rousing many of the residents from their slumber. And in particular, Rhea herself. The cacophony of the bells had shook her from her sleep, and brought her out onto the balcony. Her gaze swept over her surroundings, trying to find the source for the alarm. And there, black pinpricks on the horizon over the water. Her brows furrowed in confusion, what in Oblivion could that be… Her mind jumped to Skingrad, thinking of what Runil and Arawen had said.

No…, she swallowed hard as a chill crept over her, they weren’t lying. The Dominion? Her hands gripped the railing, trying to find the courage to breathe. Nowhere was safe anymore. She turned to head back inside to pack her belongings, knowing full well that when the Dominion docked their ships, chaos and panic would spread across the city, and when they seized control of the city, the gates of Anvil would close, preventing anyone from leaving, much like with Skingrad.

“Rhea!” A familiar voice drew her attention to a figure below in the streets looking up at her. It was Brynja.

“Brynja?” She called, a bit confused. The Nord giantess hadn’t come to seek her out over the past few days, and she wondered if she had harbored the same feelings towards her as Daro’Vasora.

“We have to go!”

“Go where?”

“We have to leave the city, there are Dominion ships on the sea. If we don’t go now, we’ll be stuck here.”

“We?”

“Yes!” Brynja said, trying to keep her exasperation under control, “We’ve a ship, and we’re not leaving you behind.”

Hot tears stung Rhea’s eyes at her words, all was not lost. Her throat tightened, leaving her speechless, “I’m coming!”

Within minutes, Rhea had thrown her belongings together in her rucksack, her hands trembling as she fastened the strap. A final tug to secure it, and Rhea headed to the door, giving the room one last final look before descending the stairs. She emerged onto the streets below, and spotted Brynja looking particularly anxious. Many residents of Anvil along the harbor came to their doorsteps, and spilled onto the streets, curious as to why the bells rang. They could see ships on the horizon now, but those without a spyglass, none could tell that the ships belonged to the Dominion. At least not yet. Brynja turned her attention to Rhea as she approached, her worried expression softening into a half-smile.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Rhea. Let’s get going before it’s too late.”

“Right.” They set off at once, until a thought crossed Rhea’s mind, “Whose ship is it?”

“It’s a friend of Daro’Vasora’s. Said he would help get us out safely.” At the mention of Daro’Vasora, Rhea bit her lip.

“Did she send you?”

“Doesn’t really matter, but we’re not leaving you behind. You got us out of the mountains, out of the Imperial City, and out of Skingrad. Personally, I signed that contract saying that I would protect you and my fellow companions at all costs.”

“But I said you could part ways in the City-”

“I know. But you didn’t give up on us, so I’m not giving up on you.” Brynja admitted, as she wove through the people spilling out onto the streets, clearing a path for Rhea behind her.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Brynja said, more focused on weaving her way through the people.

Both women made their way back to the ship Brynja had mentioned, seemingly in the nick of time. Ahead, Daro’Vasora busied herself with helping a rather traumatized and blood splattered Rhona up the gangplank. She clung to Daro’Vasora’s arm sobbing loudly, while Gregor and Raelynn were just beginning to board. The air carried a desperate sense of urgency mixed with shouting as fighting broke out between Dominion infiltrators and the city guard, even some of the local populace had taken up arms. Sailors aboard the Intrepid stood at ready with bows and crossbows, taking the occasional shot at any of the invaders that were causing chaos in the streets. The Khajiit caught sight of Rhea and Brynja breaking their way through the unrest, and gave Rhona a reassuring push upwards onto the deck, she would be fine, though she didn’t let on much with why she was in the state that she was; Rhea couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Daro’Vasora had started to understand.

The Khajiit raced towards them, ducking under a bound sword’s blade as a Bosmer mage in plains clothes attacked her. She drove her mace into the woman’s gut as an arrow from one of Roux’s men felled the Dominion infiltrator. Without missing a stride, she rushed towards the two, “Come on! You two are the last ones, everyone else is aboard. The Dominion’s trying to secure the harbour, and we won’t get out if those ships get here!” she urged.

“Right, let-” Rhea started, and suddenly a sharp pain filled her chest as she noticed a look of horror on Daro’Vasora’s face. Her vision briefly blurred out of focus, and she tried to speak, managing only a raspy hiss instead of the words that… what was she going to say? She looked down and saw jutting out through her chest a gleaming spike of ice, covered in her blood. The realization was immediate, and she struggled to breathe, her lung must have been punctured. She heard Brynja yelling that she couldn’t get the spike out, and a healing spell washed over her, easing the pain, but from the look on the two women's’ faces, it must have been fatal.

So this is it, then.

Her legs no longer supported her weight, she felt like her limbs were failing, a cold numbing sensation spreading over her. Daro’Vasora caught her, saying, “No, no… please, no. Brynja, help me!” Together they supported Rhea, carrying her aboard the ship.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Stay awake!” Daro’Vasora yelled, but Rhea wasn’t listening, not really. Her gaze turned towards the horizon, watching as the pretty blue waves crested without a care in the world. Despite herself, she smiled, her eyes growing too heavy to hold open anymore. There was still beauty in the world after all.




The Intrepid hit the open waters not long after, the ship too swift and manned by an experienced crew for the large and cumbersome of the Dominion war galleys to make chase, arrows and spells struck the waves far short of their target. Along with a handful of other vessels, many of Anvil’s privately owned ships made it to open water, escaping the Dominion’s clutches that now gripped Anvil. Roux had taken as many people as he could onboard, citizens and contractors alike, putting twin-massed black ship at capacity as it sailed into the open waters heading Northwest. With the help of Brynja, Raelynn and a few other members with the knowledge of burial preparations, they wrapped Rhea Valerius in linens and sealed her fatal wound. She had passed before even making it aboard the ship. After something of a brief memorial for the Imperial woman, those that had known Rhea parted ways for the voyage and Brynja went to look after a wide-eyed Rhona, leaving Daro’Vasora kneeling at Rhea’s side, surprised to find tears filling her eyes.

“I thought I hated you. Why does this bother me so much?” she asked the deceased woman quietly, looking the most at peace as she had since the expedition departed in the Jerall Mountains a lifetime ago. Gods, she deserved better than that; they all did. The weight from all of Rhea’s choices must have weighed on her until the very end, and Daro’Vasora felt guilt from her outburst when they arrived in Anvil. Was that what finally shattered Rhea’s will, did she feel like everything really was her mistake?

No answer or thought brought comfort, only more painful realizations. She had her hands cupped in front of her mouth as if praying, but the reality was it hurt to breathe. Nobody had to suffer for her own actions, Alkosh, why on Nirn did she stay with these people? She should have left as soon as they were out of the Jerall Mountains, ditched them like she always did. Or after they escaped from the Imperial City, or stayed on in Skingrad, or not tell them about her plan to leave Anvil.

“What did you do to me?” she asked again, inhaling sharply through her teeth, her eyes clamping shut on the tears that fought to break through. “Why do I give a damn what happens to any of them, or myself? Zegol died because of your impulsive stupidity, am I supposed to forgive you for any of that?”

The tranquil woman didn’t answer, leaving the Khajiit doubled over, her arms wrapping around her waist, and clenched her teeth so hard they hurt.

As if feeling Shanji-ko’s toe under her chin, she looked up again, feeling a breeze across the portside of the ship; she could see Jone and Jode just above the horizon and felt warmth. She knew in her heart what she felt deep inside, but never paid heed to. Placing a hand over Rhea’s, Daro’Vasora said, “I will look after them, no matter where the road leads us. I hope you found your peace, but the burden is no longer yours. I will take it if I must. Thank you, for doing your very best. I was a fool not to appreciate that.” Leaning down, Daro’Vasora kissed Rhea’s cold brow.

“Until we meet again.”

She left Rhea’s side, and found Roux standing not far off, leaning against the gunwale, staring at the moons, his face remarkably sombre. “I didn’t want to intrude.” he promised.

“You didn’t.” Daro’Vasora said, standing next to him and looking back towards where her ancestors could find her. “So, what awaits for us next?”

“Hammerfell. There’s some people I think you should meet.”

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