MiddleEarthRoze

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@MacabreFox

_{the night is long and full of dicks double entendres}

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Dervish

Ugh, I know. It's literally a Twilight fanfic with the names changed - and I'm not exaggerating, that is actually how it was originally written before it was published.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Dervish

Two-Handed? Man, you must be struggling if you need to use 'em both. Still, it's a better book than Fifty Shades of Grey. Anything is a better book than that. My Immortal would make a better book than that.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

<Snipped quote by MiddleEarthRoze>

Now now, the combat dance isn't just about thrustin' the stick. It's about knowing how to move it around, just right.

Huehuehue.

@Dervish

Reminds me of a certain book in the TES universe that we all know and love.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Dervish

erm excuse you

Rhasha's stick is bigger, and I'm certain he knows how to use it better.
It's end is also far more dangerous, and chicks love danger.

_{omg the innuendos}

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@MacabreFox

Ehehehehehehehehehehhehehe. He's not going to let Do'Karth steal away his beloved new friend. XD
And yes, twas but a brief stint of contemplating eloping to the arctic circle where exams couldn't hurt my brain. But then I remembered there was no wi-fi, which meant no you guys, aND I'D SOONER SELL MY SOUL THAN LEAVE THIS ROLEPLAY
THERE ARE BATTLES TO BE WON
KAMAL TO KILL
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, SHIPS TO SAIL
_{or sink, depending on which ones}

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

A night to remember
10th of Sun's Height, Dawnstar.

---

These nights have been long, and bloody.

Had the smooth-skins listened to the red moons in the sky, perhaps death may have been avoided. But the Kamal are formidable foes, and this one does not know whether the fore-warning from the sky would have done any good to the dead in Windhelm.

This one is lucky to count myself among the alive, alongside old friends, and new ones that this one has made... a surprisingly delightful discovery, despite all the sorrow of the past few days. Many preconceptions this one has had about other races - although this one strives to avoid such speculations about others, knowing well how hurtful these prejudices can be to a race - have been broken. An Argonian spoke to this one pleasantly, alongside an Imperial by the name of Sagax... and then the curious happening of Sevine. Such a Nord woman would - traditionally - dislike and mistrust the Khajiit, for even this one knows what reputation the Khajiiti caravans have in this land. But she did not - this Sevine was kind, and even so forward as to request touching this one's fur. Not that it was an insult to this one; more a compliment, and a humbling one for that. The feeling of a smooth-skin caressing this one's fur was a curious sensation, and one that this Khajiit will not soon forget. For who could forget such a thing? That small act of pure inquisitiveness was almost akin to a beacon of hope in such dark times - that small things existed to cause enjoyment despite the slaughter that may occur outside of your city gates. And it was all the more enthralling, coming from a warrior woman with a Goddess hidden in her green eyes and a fury in her heart that is matched only by the red of her mane-

"What are you writing now, furball? It'd better be about my armless exploits."

Sylvanis' abrupt words shattered Rhasha's concentration, and he looked to his Bosmeri friend with a light jolt, tiny drops of ink flicking from his quill at the movement.

"Ah... just about the events that have passed." He replied hastily, allowing the words to dry before closing his small journal. Now having calmed his mind and away from dangers, Rhasha had found some time to finally write in the book once more. Not that the words were particularly easy to write, at some times. "I'll be sure to include you - do not fear, Sylva. How could this one tell the story of the siege of Windhelm without mentioning you and your hammer?" He added with a grin, standing up and stretching. The pair were sat among the Khajiiti caravaners, on the outskirts of Dawnstar.

Following the finding of Sylva - and her missing arm - things had become far worse for the people of Windhelm. First of all, a riot broke out; the Argonians, demanding to leave the city, eventually becoming a swarm of fury and frenzy and destroying - or, at least attempting to - everything and everyone in their path. At this point, Rhasha'Dar had stood guard by the alleyway which led to the cluster of wounded that lay in the area; his spear in hand, a defensive stance locking his legs into place, and a stoic look set in his eyes - if the people chose to panic, that was to their own will. But he would not allow them to hurt the already injured and dying in the process of it.

As luck would have it, the riot avoided that area of Windhelm they lay in, and the city quieted... most of the noises only belonging to the crash and crumble of the debris hitting various things, and the occasional scream or wail in the distance. More died, more were injured, and some recovered from their wounds - Sylvanis included. Well, as best as one could recover from losing a limb, especially when one needed it as much as she did. But, infection stayed, and dues to the Kamal which had amputated her - the cut had been a very clean one. Almost surgical, which was concerning to say the least... just how advanced were these creatures to have weapons of surgical standard? The axe that had mutilated his Bosmer friend must have been sharp enough to shatter other metals, and the strength behind it was a force to behold. Rhasha's ribs still ached from where the Kamal had flung him against the wall in the first wave of attacks. And that had been with just a flick of the beasts' wrist.

As it happened, the true complicity of the Kamal made itself known with the prospect of victory or defeat by single combat... a shocking ploy, but a futile one on the side of the people in Windhelm. Nobody had expected such an offer, but considering the sheer awesomeness of the Kamal, it would be a pointless venture by the Jarl. Having donned Sylvanis' gauntlets to carry both her hefty warhammer and his own weapons and pack (She had been strong enough to at least carry her own pack, thank Azurah), they took refuge with the others, (While in the safehouse, even coming across a poor fellow he was actually able to help. A young Redguard, suffering from a not so kind poison - he was able to lessen the man's fever and pain after brewing and administering a potion for the fellow, instantly curing him), and then following on as they fled the city in the underground tunnels.

That action did not exactly sit well in the heart of Rhasha'Dar - leaving the people to an unknown fate at the hands of the Snow Demons. What did they plan on doing to the survivors of Windhelm? What had been their motive in attacking the city in the first place? Was this an invasion ploy?

Such questions were being pondered by most, Rhasha supposed. So he did not ask them, because he knew nobody had the answers... all the group had was the want - no, the need - to survive this. That was why they had fled. To survive, and to tell others of what had happened.

Because hopefully, if the other cities had warning, they could stop this.

"This one is going for a wander, Sylva. Stay out of trouble - and for the love of Ahnurr, don't get involved with any bets with the twins. They'll swindle you, arm or no." Rhasha gently nudged Sylvanis with the toe of his boot, and she glared up at him from the floor, punching the offending foot.

"I'll bet as I please, you cur. I may have lost an arm, but I have enough smarts left in me to know when I'm being cheated of a few septims."

"Hmm... if you say so, Sylva. This one will tell them to leave you enough for drinks, yes?"

At that, Rhasha walked off, laughing as she swatted at his legs again. As he left, the twins watched on, conspiratorial grins growing upon their faces as their elder brother approached. Rhasha'Dar had been most joyous to be reunited with the caravan at Nightgate Inn; his siblings had found him immediately, the pair throwing themselves weeping, on their brother whom they had feared had perished to the Kamal. It had been an emotional time, but after a few nights of catching up with one another, Ma'Zardi and Ma'Zargo were back to peddling to customers and pestering Sylva. As it turned out, she would be journeying on with the caravan until they hit one of the Orcish strongholds to the west. Rhasha thought this would be best, as she would find some aid in the large group. He hated to think of her journeying alone, with no useful weapons and only one functioning hand, the other a not-fully healed stump.

As for Rhasha, he himself would be remaining with the group. They had much left to do, after the Kamal attack. He also would not be able to bring himself to leave his new friends... especially to deprive Sevine of her love in fur.

Lighting his pipe and chewing on the end out of habit as he puffed, Rhasha'Dar walked towards the small town of Dawnstar, and the Inn that lay quite compellingly ahead. Feeling freer than he had for days, Rhasha decided it was high time to rejoin with his companions, and perhaps share a drink with them.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Alllrighty then, I've got a Roze post up - feel free to interact with her, especially if you haven't had the pleasure of doing so before. I'll be getting a Rhasha post up tomorrow, along with the saving of Farid, and the departure of Sylvanis.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

A different girl

4th of Sun's Height
Candlehearth Inn ~ Wandering

"Mmmff... five more minutes Bryn..." The sleepy, muttered words came from the heap of blankets on the bed, a tousled mess of black curls barely visible beneath the covers. The shouting fell to deaf ears, but as Sagax brayed on the door once more, Rozalia cracked open one eye, momentarily confused.

"Hm? Where am I? This isn't the Bee and Barb..." Sitting up with a light wince, further loud crashes wrested Roze from the vestiges of her dream - which had been a pleasant one, making her awakening all the more disappointing.

More yelling, and the ringing of steel as swords clashed forced Roze from her bed - causing her to almost bend double in pain as she fully recalled the events that had brought her her.

"Ohhhh.... fuck... injuries, yup, gotta remember that." She hissed, pulling her boots on as fast as she could to see what ruckus was going on outside. For one brief moment, she had been terrified to consider that the Kamal had attacked again while she had slept, and had stormed the city. It was, in fact, just...

Argonians?

They were swarming around a guard, who was getting bloodier with each stomp, kick, and punch the rioters threw at him. Watching on for a brief moment - still somewhat stuck in the clutches of sleep, and wondering if she was still dreaming (Because who in their right fucking mind would be rioting at a time like this?) - one of the Argonian's spotted her watching, and began making his way toward her, frenzy evident in his reptilian eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sakes! Like we don't have enough to deal with, without you scaly bastards attacking people and destroying shit?!" She exclaimed before heaving herself out of the shattered window behind her - unstrung bow still in hand, and injuries not appreciating the effort of her actions. Still, it was better than being beaten to death by a load of angry lizard-men.

With Sagax gone - hopefully he hadn't run off to try and play the hero again - Roze considered her options. She had no desire in trying to calm the crowd; diplomacy was hardly her forte, and she had no strength in her to do anything physical about it. The Gray Quarter was swarmed, which meant there was no getting back to Leif's house... therefore, her shadows remained her only ally for the moment.

And there Rozalia stayed - avoiding the commotion, and attempting to find something to aid her. Finding the blacksmiths, she spent a few moments picking the lock; breaking more than a couple on the complicated thing, but managing it all the same. Inside, she retrieved several strips of leather, and a new bowstring - she would be unable to do anything with them for the moment, but the strips would repair her armour somewhat when she had the time, and her bow... well, perhaps Sevine could string it for her.

"Won't do any good if I can't use it again, is it?" That bitter thought struck her as she knelt in the shadows of the quiet smithy; gazing at her father's bow as the outside light danced across its scratched, reflective surface. If he were here, he could teach her how to string it with just her mouth and her feet... but he was nowhere to be found.

Where were her parents? Had her mother perished in Solstheim? Or in the fight again the Kamal? Or worst still, had her father been among the dead? She and her mother had no idea as to where he had disappeared off too; for all she knew, she was in the exact same mercenary group as he had been. He had been a mercenary, after all...

"Of all the times to get homesick, Roze..." She whispered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "Steal now - get broody later."

And with that, the young rogue snatched a few septims from the nearby shop counter, and returned to the shadows outside once again until the riot had subsided.

---

5th & 6th of Sun's Height

Rozalia had remained in her inn room for most of the time after the riot - she felt fatigued to a great amount, so much so she could barely bring herself to go and search for her comrades. She doubted any of them had perished in the riot, but there still remained the threat of being crushed to death by the debris being sent over by the Kamal. Chances were that she probably made it more likely for herself to be hit, what with staying in the same room for hours on end - but there was a weariness over Rozalia that made her uncaring towards that potential fate. It would be a quick one, at least. She only withdrew from her room on the sixth, when word had it that the Kamal had challenged the Jarl to single combat.

That was a strange thing to occur, for her. How could such monsters be able to communicate with them, to even suggest something so... so, human? Either way, it didn't matter. The man wouldn't be able to kill a Kamal on his own, not without using foul play. And the Jarl was a righteous and proud warrior - he wouldn't cheat. He would fail, he would die, and then the city would belong to the Snow Demons.

And then all of them would perish.

As it happened, Roze's predictions had been correct. Fleeing with a number of her fellows to one of their safehouses, only to learn of tunnels from some scrawny Nord man. She was disconcerted to learn of this only now - so much for the Guild's resources, right? - but took his word for it anyway. It was hardly like they had any other choice.

---

The journey had not been an easy one. If Roze had been on her own, she would have slipped past the Kamal with utmost ease, probably even able to steal something from them before fleeing back to the safety of shadows. But crowds of people rarely have such stealth about them, much to Roze's ire. Although it had been easy enough for her to stay hidden, the screams of the dying and the guttural, alien noises of the Kamal punctuated the night air. Her breath left her in sharp bursts, the cold stinging her lungs and clouds of breath betraying her to the night. But she had outran the Kamal, or they had simply grown weary of their prey. As they re-grouped, she was relieved to see her friends alive still... but so few had made it out of the forest. As each hour passed, it seemed they were losing more and more people - she was not used to this. This amount of death, and sorrow, and grief. The atmosphere was akin to that of a few years ago, when the dragons had returned; but there was no Dovahkiin to protect them now. No, that tyrant lay hidden in the depths of Solitude, in the very castle she had once broken into many moons ago.

Why is this happening? Why did I join this group? Why am I still alive? _{why, why, why?} These troubled thoughts did not leave Rozalia's mind for a good while - an uncharacteristically sobering expression set upon her face as they made their way to Dawnstar. She had no jokes left, nor mirth, nor joy. The group would not have taken kindly to it, anyway. Now was not a time for jesting... and for one who relied so heavily on making light of dark situations, t'was a disturbing thought indeed.

---

---

10th of Sun's Height
Dawnstar Docks

It was colder even in Dawnstar than Windhelm, and her cloak did nothing to fight the cold. The inn was packed, the rooms full to bursting, and there was no way she'd be able to get in one - not with far sourer and stronger folk filling them up. Instead she remained outside, by the docks and inhaling the cold scent of saltwater... the air here seemed cleaner than Windhelm's sea air - but perhaps that it was just the lack of Kamal that made the scene all the better. However, the rusty light of the moons shimmered across the dark waters of the bay, casting a sickly, bloody look across the water... as if slaughter had already happened here, and they did not know it yet. That thought sent a shiver down her spine, one not just brought on by the biting cold.

As for Rozalia herself, she hadn't improved much from Windhelm. The bandages around her midriff had unravelled during their journey here, forcing her to give up her sling in order to further staunch the wound. The wound upon her shoulder had eased in it's pain somewhat, giving way to a dull stiffness that did not seem to shift, no matter how much she was able to move it around without succumbing to pain. Therein remained her worry, of it never returning to it's full capability again. And what that would mean for her days of archery, she did not know. Either way she looked at it, things were remaining dire. Windhelm had been stormed, she had no notion of where her Mother was, and Roze herself was not getting any better as the days went on. The caravan's had been sorely lacking in any form of potion or medical aid, but one of the Khajiit had been kind enough to save a health potion for her when next they brewed one. Which, judging by their stock, wasn't going to be anytime soon.

"Those Gods of Sagax's would come in real handy right about now." Roze muttered, fingers gently caressing the ridges of her amulet of Mara, as she stared at the bleeding twin moons.

For Queen and Country

@Silent Observer

Ahhah, I like it! However, the look on Loki's face is more along the lines of:

"What the fuck do you want Ari, I'm trying to have my bath. stOP PESTERING ME YOU BELLIGERENT FELINE"