POOHEAD189

Jamey Aquise (+18)

Star Wars: Empire of Glass

<Snipped quote by Gcold>

Alrighty, planned changes:

• Ashti is friendly, if not outgoing. She's not necessarily the one to start a conversation but will happily join in. As for combat I'd imagine she goes with the mood. Mainly slow and methodical but if she gets an idea in her head she's going for it. Hard to describe in brief, so I'll think of a better way to put this into my CS
• I'm probably just going to say she didn't fight on Endor. The only ways I can think she might have gotten rid of her force like that is drugs, which I don't really want my character to deal with, or technique, which is also weird to me. It's like saying "She stopped herself from being powerful by being powerful." Once again I'll have a think
• Definitely worth me thinking about more than I did
• I originally just put it down to "Learned a lot of languages as a Jedi," but the whole learning languages in exile is a much better angle to work with, will chuck that in my backstory at some point
• Thanks for the tip! I'll definitely get on that, as long as that's okay with @POOHEAD189 (I have a sneaking suspicion he's going to be okay with a collab, even if he is a little busy these days.)

All in all thanks for the great feedback! A lot to work with and some really smart suggestions, thanks!

@The Fated Fallen

D&D 5E: Dungeon of the Mad Mage

Markus will take the fore and lead the vanguard, so to say! @Mae

So likely he will take number 7

Tales of Tamriel

Dax's scaley skin crawled being bound, even so gingerly. But it was needed, and as he listened to her story, he was glad he could help this woman. A traitor, particularly one who simply did it for luxury, was worse than swamp scum. Even more despicable, he was working with the Thalmor and the Dunmer. "Your plight reaches me, Landstrider." he remarked, testing the strength of his bonds one last time to make sure he could break out of them if need be. "Let us see he does not live to see the dawn."

They had a few miles to trek to make it to the next outpost Kris reported, having scouted a bit previously before her assault on the caravan. Stripped down to rags, Argon looked like a slave being sent to an arena. His dark red scales, intermingled with forest green at the edges of his powerful shoulders and saurian snout, gave him a menacing look. It was only heightened by the crown of horns jutting out of the back of his head.

He did his best to keep his head down to appear meek, tail staying low to the ground and dragging in a snake-like slither as Kris prodded him forward with his own weaponry. The dirt path became more well trodden once they passed the next rise, and below them they could see a well tended outpost, with two finely constructed scythe-like towers standing amid older ruins and rubble from ages long past. Even now they could see two Dunmner at the tops of each tower, and another two running back and forth as those above shouted out calls.

Behind the towers, the roads became paved, though there looked to be no town or city. That was likely past the next foothills of the great mountain of fire. Though there did seem to be a bit of activity within the ruins, likely makeshift guardsmen quarters. Kris would see a familiar horse tied to a post past the towers, knickering about as if it sensed the guard's unease. A part of him simply wished to change plans and pick off the guards from the copse of gnarled trees to the south of the ruins.

No, there were too many to kill effectively. If he had to guess there was a dozen in all, give or take with Kris' nemesis Vorn. Her would need to fight them all at some point. Better to do it in surprise in the middle to sow as much confusion as possible.
@Penny

Tales of Tamriel

Her proposal piqued the reptilian's interest. He had a powerful rage simmering under the surface for whomever was responsible for the enslavement of any Argonian, much less his cousin Tsleeixth. He looked at her and paused, realizing the implications of what she was asking. Daixanos was usually a quiet, stoic Argonian who made an honest living hunting, be it game for skins or heads for bounties. But there were three things he truly hated.

Magicka unnerved him. He did not know where it came from or what fueled its power, but it was not the Hist and therefore Alien to him, even if others of his race used the mystical arts. Dunmner slavers were another, and by extension, being chained himself. Even in a ruse, he knew he would be agitated and on the brink of exploding out of the chains. But her idea had merit, and he could swallow his comfort for a short while as he played the part.

"He likely does not," Dax sibilated, and inclined his head, agreeing to the ruse. "Collect what you will, we must go before long if our distraction is to aid my kinsman and the othersss..."

He stripped off his breastplate and bracers, and his axe and bow. He placed the items in one of the smaller wagons of the caravan. The beastman kept a dagger within the folds of his clothes just in case, but it was carefully concealed. "This Vorn...are you here for him?"

There was a low rumble in the distance, and across the horizon, fiery bits of debris fell into what had to have been the sea of ghosts.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity
Ok peeps, regretfully, I will need to put the RP on hiatus. It's not dead, but since I am extra busy and We don't seem to be able to have more than 4 players, we'll need to put it on hold for a bit. But, I will give you another update as soon as I can, and I love RPing with all of you. Over the last few years, you guys have been friendly and a pleasure to RP with, so do not think this is the end. Just a break. Worse comes to worse, there'll still be a new RP sometime where you're all invited, but let's not assume that. ToM has a lot of potential we can continue with when circumstances work better.

Tales of Tamriel

Daixanos gave Kris a black look, clearly too tired and agitated that he had not been the one to free the slaves. But with a low rumble in the back of his throat, an alien sound to any race but the Saxhleel, he realize she was not to blame for any true slight against him. The hunter's eyes flicked back and forth between her and the slaves. The lead slave, the one had that shown he still had some spirit, stepped forward toward Dax.

"Dax, you should not have come." he said to him. He was a leaner Argonian, his scales a vibrant moss green with webbed fringes framing his head. They both hissed at one another in some strange ritual-like greeting. He continued as if the small exchange had not occurred. "We were prepared to meet our fate. If the Hist-"

"The Hist does not wish this!" Dax growled, stepped forward almost threateningly. His tail lashed, and while the end point was missing, to Kris it would be quite apparent that no one wanted to be whipped by the appendage. "I have been sent by them. You must survive and return to Blackmarsh. Go down the hill and hug the hills of ash. Continue south and do not stop until you are in swamp land. You will be safe."

While most men and mer did not have the capacities to see much emotion in Argonian faces most of the time, it would be clear this Argonian was at least taken aback, if not in shock. "You will not come with us?" A part of Dax desperately wished he could, but he also had more Ebon blood to spill. He grabbed his comrade and shoved him forward, the slighter Argonian stumbling, catching his balance on his tail.

"I am expendable, Tsleeixth." Dax declared. "You are not. But I do not plan on dying today. Go!" He pointed at the other slaves, gesturing them to follow. "Flee, now!" It was practically a threat, and the others nodded, taking what supplies they could off the corpses and hurrying to the crest of the ridge that hugged the sheer drop of the ravine. Dax watched them go, making a strange sign to his friend Tsleeixth before he, too, was gone.

A light wind carried a faint howl over the road the Breton and he stood on, making the ash laden sky even more eerie than one would usually perceive. Begrudgingly, he turned to the woman. The beastman regarded her in an indecipherable fashion, and he spoke. "You have my thanks, man." He meant the race rather than the gender, but the awkward word choice was lost on him. "I am Daixanos, and I am in your debt. I do not know why you have come, but I plan on continuing to aid those fleeing by making a distraction. One that ends the lives of many Dunmer before I flee east. If you wish, you may aid me. If not, fair weather on you, Landstrider."
@Penny

Tales of Tamriel

30th Day of Last Seed, Turdas, 4E 201 (Weeks earlier)

Briefly Dax questioned yet again if this was worth it. Even with the element of surprise and distance between them, three against one was a risky proposition. However, the Argonian hunter had not gotten so far from home and survived this long by backing down from challenges or difficulties. He slowly reached down and touched the Amethyst pendant given to him by his father. "The Hisssst guide me." he muttered softly, and drew out his fine hunting bow.

Daixanos crouched within a copse of bushes to the south of the bandit camp, having the advantage of a higher elevation at the side of a small mountain rise. From the small amount of information the bounty script had given Dax, he knew there should be three of them around the northern edge of the pale, near the coast. The latter information had been correct so far, but he couldn't see all of the bandits from this vantage point. In fact he only saw one atop a rocky rise. An archer that had the misfortune of looking directly into the sun if he were to look Dax's way. If he had to guess, the other two were below him within a cave beside the frigid waters.

With a smooth and trained motion, Dax drew back the string of his bow, aimed, and let loose an iron arrow. The Hist had blessed him it seemed. The arrow had struck the man just below the neck, through the collar bone. He fell, hopefully without a sound. Quick reptilian feet had Dax hurrying to the left, his snake like tail leaving small 'S' shaped grooves in the dirt. After 30 feet, he halted behind a small tree, and waited. A minute passed, and peeking out he saw no commotion. He waited another minute just to be safe, before he began moving northwest as slow and cautiously as he could to get a vantage point to see the inner bandit camp.

He made it to the bottom of the slope behind a jutted rock, parallel to the water with the small camp. Two men spoke amiably, one moving about to toss some more wood into a fire that was slowly dying. It looked like the one handling the fire was a Mer, perhaps. It didn't matter, and he was thinking too much on this. He grasped one his vials, and placed the poison on the ground. He dipped his arrow head within it, making sure to coat it thickly. Dax nocked the Iron arrow and drew back his bow. Two against one weren't favorable odds, and he needed this element of surprise. The Argonian was just about to loose when the Mer handing the fire began to glow, and the fire suddenly flared brighter. Dax grunted as if struck, and didn't have the frame of mind to keep the string pulled back.

His prematurely fired arrow flung end over end into the camp, striking the rocky rise between them that the archer he had dispatched earlier used as a vantage point. He ducked behind the rock again, hearing raised voices and strange sounds he could only deduce were magic being casted. Why do they have to have a spellcaster, Hist curse them. He knew they would be upon him in no time, but thankfully they still did not know his exact location. He quickly dipped his next arrowhead into the poison, drew back his bow string, and stood tall out of his rocky hiding place. The Nord that had been sitting roared and charged when he spotted Dax, hefting a greatsword. The Mer behind him was glowing no longer, but seemed to be moving his hands intricately. Not having anymore of that filth, Dax thought to himself. The Nord might be the more immediate threat, but he was at least something Dax wasn't uneasy around. He fired a wild shot due to the intensity of the situation, the envenomed arrow hitting the mage in the knee. The Mer cried out in pain and fell.

It was all Dax could do to take out his Battle Axe strapped to his back, whipping it forth to collide with the greatsword in a great shower of sparks. The Nord was stereotypically strong and tall, but Dax was burly for an Argonian, matching his opponent's strength initially. Both weapons flinched, and the two warriors stepped back and gauged their opponent's style, each looking for an opening. Dax gave a hiss as the man growled, the wind whipping past them into the coast of the inner sea. Dax needed to play this defensively, and as the Nord moved, so did he. The Argonian backstepped and slashed at his opponent's exposed midsection. The Nord had been trying for a thrust, but hesitated and backstepped himself. Dax stepped forward and sent his Axe in a devastating downward chop. The Nord sidestepped and the Axe bit into earth, sticking for a moment. Dax's barbarian opponent took this time to swing at the stuck Argonian. Instead of yanking his Axe out in a furious attempt to survive, he ducked behind his Axe's upraised hilt, holding it steady as the greatsword blade collided with it. Dax's tail slipped around as the Argonian spun, whipping the Nord's hip in a stinging strike. The man sliced in a block as a reflex, paingfully cutting off the end of Dax's tail. The Argonian lashed out without thought, his extended claws cutting a small slice across the Nord's throat.

The wound was shallow, but it was still a throat strike. The bandit clutched his throat, dropping his weapon and stumbling back as blood slowly seeped onto his collarbone. Dax took no time in retrieving his Axe, yanking it out of the earth, before beheading his opponent to end both of their miseries. He wasn't going to be barbaric and take back the heads, thinking the hands would suffice. However, one was now severed and he needed some proof that he had done this deed. With a sigh, the hunter knelt down to check his tail. On first glance, he knew it wasn't severed deep, and would grow back. It wasn't anything he'd not dealt with before, and the pain wasn't blinding.

The Hist was smiling on him today, for when he ducked to check his tail, a ball of flame flew straight over the kneeling hunter. He could feel the heat as it passed, and his reptilian head whipped up to see the Mer holding himself up unsteadily beside the rock, breathing heavily. The poison seemed to be in full effect, and he would soon die. It seemed he was determined to take Dax down with him. The very magic he could see being summoned sent a shudder down the Argonian's spine, and he sprang toward the Mer, Axe being hefted as he closed the distance shortly. His blade found the Mer's neck just before the wretched bandit could loose another spell.

Within the hour, he had the heads packed into his skin sack. He needed to carry the sack in his hands, now being too heavy to be strapped to his belt. He checked the chest the bandits had for some gold and loot, before making his way back toward Cheydinhal, and Ashev. He hoped he got back before nightfall. Making a camp out in the cold was never ideal, and with his recent nightmares of Blackmarsh.

Hours later.

The weight of the Gold felt good in his clawed hands. The weight of his duty to his people was a tad less satisfying, though no less important. In fact, much more so in Daixanos' way of thinking. "No, I am not going southwards. I am going to Morrowind." Dax replied to Jod as they walked toward the bar together. "And I do not know why such a journey is perilous, other than the damned Dumner. But I will..." His words were ominous and hinting, and the Argonian gave a nod to Jod as the man spoke. "The steward was so happy with your kills that he gives you a hint. He said these lowlifes have been troubling his hold for weeks, and it was no small task destroying them for one man. You are someone who gets things done. He has procured a manifest of Dunmer comings and goings to and from Blackmarsh. Our spies tells us slavers ships are bound between your home and Morrowind almost daily, and many reach Vvardenfell."

Dax opened his mouth, unnerving the man with his bestial, blank look as he contemplated the information. "Then that is where I shall go," Dax croaked.

---

18th Day of Hearthfire, Sundas, 4E 201

Daixanos nearly ran on all fours, his serrated claws on his feet digging into the ground as his hands grasped for any tree or rock that would speed his ascent up the rise. He knew the caravan was close. The Hist had guided him, and he had seen them from afar not four miles ago. With any luck and quick feet, he would find a way to overcome the slavers and free those in captivity. He was confident of his hunting bow, even if he could not make it to melee range just yet. His thoughts, however, clouded in confusion when calls began to rise from somehow up ahead.

Soon, dreadful magicka erupted, and a tree cracked as if rent asunder by a giant to his right. It was all he could do to roll out of the way before the great oak hit the hillock and began a slow roll down the hill behind the kneeling Argonian. "Cursed sorcery," he breathed, though his determination had not faltered. He would see his fellows freed, mage or not when he reached the top. Only a dozen paces and he would rise and...

The commotion had stopped.

After a moment's hesitation, that only spurred him to make it as soon as possible, and once he rose above the crest, he was greeted with a curious sight. A woman on the ground, injured and speaking softly as an Argonian, chained as the rest, reached for a dagger he could not quite reach. "Hist!" he cried, scrambling past gnarled roots and making it to the caravan. The shackled slaves gasped when he appeared, showing some life in them yet. He believed they had likely never thought to see a fellow Argonian armed so far north of Blackmarsh.

"Fear not, I have come." Dax said, unsheathed his large axe. A khajiit held up his hands in a display, talking in the cat-like double speak. Argonians and Khajiits did not always get along, but they had been enslaved as his people had. "This one has the woman to thank! Help her as you help us, yes yes?" That caused Daixanos to slow to a stop, and he regarded the woman coldly, having believed not moments ago she had been a slaver.

After a moment, he slowly hissed an "I shall"
@Penny

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

Accidents Happen (As do Friendships)

---

Vas & Beren Collab

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17th Suns Dawn,
Aboard the Kismet, Daggerfall

---

The Imperial had been left alone for around ten minutes then, her two suitcases were sat beside her as she stood - hand on hip eyeing up each hammock. There were also a number of more solid beds too, but - seeing as she was on a ship, she wanted the full experience of being on a ship. “Ms. Vasellius” eventually settled on a hammock by a porthole, and she stepped over towards it - placing a hand either side so she could peer out. It was all just sea and nothing but… Nothing but freedom.

Vas grinned, and a soft chuckle spilled from her full lips, dimples appearing in each cheek to accompany her bright smile. “This will do,” she sighed, stepping back to tackle the hammock. It was a little higher than she expected, she couldn’t just [i]fall[]/i] into it… But she was a bold and adventurous girl, and so she gripped at the rope with both hands to pull herself up. Success! She’d brought her torso into the netting, and it was actually more comfortable than she was expecting - so comfortable in fact that she rested too much of her weight upon it and the hammock wobbled, threatening to toss her out.

Vas lifted her leg, pressing the tip of her boot into a hole in the netting and pushed forwards. It was unfortunate timing, the ship rolled on a bigger wave than had been expected and Vas slipped, her foot was ensnared in the rope and she lurched forwards. The young woman squealed, but managed to stop herself by placing her hands out - but now she was in the embarrassing predicament of being caught in the hammock by her foot. Sure, she could pass it off as a handstand to any passers by to alleviate any humiliation - but she was still stuck. “For the love of-” she groaned, twisting her foot this way and that to try and free it.

Meanwhile, Beren stepped onboard the Kismet, closing his eyes and breathing in the ocean air. He’d always enjoyed coastlines. It reminded him of home. The loud footsteps of his boots on the thin floorboards was also cathartic. He suspected he would enjoy the journey. A chance to finally relax and just let the ship sail him to his home province.

First thing’s first, he needed to put his stuff up below decks. Passing by a few Argonians he saw speaking to a man who he suspected was the Captain, he set off downstairs. Many ships followed a uniform layout, and this one wasn’t much different from the rest. He found the passenger quarters without much difficulty. Though he did find a woman stuck in one of the hammocks, struggling.

He dropped the bag dangling off his broad shoulder immediately. “Oh, hey,” he said, announcing his presence as he approached her. “Let me help you, one second.” Vas would make out a tanned skinned, muscled man a few years her junior crouch beside her. Strong, dextrous hands held her leg aloft while he untwisted the spun knot she’s managed to get snagged in.

“This won’t happen often in the trip, will it?” he asked with a grin, eyes bright as he undid the coil and set her free. He placed a hand on her shoulder and collarbone to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face. “You ok?”

“Oh, I shall be…” Vas groaned, letting her legs come down safely, until she found herself sitting on the floor. It was nice to be the right way around again, and as the blood returned to the rest of her body she felt a sense of relief. “Thank you,” she said, with a bashful smile. “Just in the knick of time, that,” she added, laughing softly and rubbing the back of her neck. She was only slightly embarrassed. More so by the fact that her rescuer was a man -- well built, but with kind eyes, and a gentle hand. “Thank you,” she said again, blowing a section of hair out of her face.

Smiling, he suddenly felt a bit embarrassed himself. “Oh, of course,” he replied, not knowing what else to say. Offering her his hand, he helped her up almost too easily. She would feel like she was lighter than a feather for a moment. Setting her up on her feet, he noted she was quite pretty, with spirited eyed.

“I, uh…” he looked around the room. It had been so easy coming in to help her and now he felt like he was the bashful one. Changing the subject, he looked from her to the hammock. “How’d you get stuck?”

“I got… excited to be here. I think,” she said quietly, sucking air through her teeth as she gave an awkward smile. “Never slept in a hammock, never even been in one… Obviously,” her voice quietened, and she placed her hands behind her back. His embarrassment only seemed to transfer to her. If she hadn't been caught up there, he could have been getting on quite easily with his own settling in. “Sooooooooooo,” Vas said, a small laugh punctuated it for good measure.

“I suppose you’ll be picking your own hammock now… Be careful! They bite!” she said, with another laugh, immediately regretting the words. “I mean I’m sure you can manage a hammock, you look really strong--” as if to demonstrate, she reached forwards and pinched at his upper arm, unaware that it wasn’t really socially acceptable to just touch someone like that. “You’ll definitely be fine,” she giggled again, only this time she inhaled a little too much through her nose and snorted. Her eyes immediately fell on a sleeping passenger to the side. She hoped he wouldn’t wake up.

Beren grabbed his things, placing a finger to his lips as he noticed the sleeping man when she did. He was surprised the passenger hadn’t already woken up. He slept even more heavily than Beren, and that was something to boast about. Looking to his left, he dropped his things in the hammock and made sure the sack was tied tightly. “Yeah, I think I’ll be ok,” he said quietly. Easing back, he idly stretched his left arm and turned again to face her. “Weee probably should talk somewhere else.” he whispered to her, giving a subtle wink. “Messhall? I haven’t eaten today.”

Vas smiled back, bringing a hand to her own mouth to stifle a giggle - the sudden realisation that she’d probably almost woken the poor man up tickled her. She nodded quickly at Beren - she had also not eaten anything yet, and the mention of food was enough to make her feel the hunger that had so far been quiet. No words needed to be said, and she made her way to the door and out of the shared quarters. “Do you think the food is nice here Mr?” she asked in a whisper as he followed along beside her.

He led the way, hands in his pockets as he kept close by enough to face her when he spoke to her. He nearly said ‘it doesn’t matter to me,’ but that probably sounded a bit too dismissive. It honestly didn’t matter too much to him. He had a fast metabolism. It came with the physique. He needed to eat a lot to keep his energy up. He put on a moment of pure swagger and snapped his fingers, pointing at her. “I’m mister right,” he said, with such an exaggerated look of bravado it was too obvious he was joking.

He tried to hold in the laughter of how stupid he felt for making a joke so suddenly, but he let the chuckle subside naturally. “I’m Beren.” he said, drawing in a breath as he shrugged. “I hope the food is good. As long as it’s edible to people I think I’ll be fine.” Suddenly, his stomach erupted into a growl and he gazed up at the ceiling as if to see if Akatosh was testing him. “Yeah, that outta tell you all you need to know about me…”

"It's nice to meet you Beren, I'm…" she paused, taking a look from left to right. "My name is… Ca-" she stopped abruptly and coughed, a little too dramatically, "Saffine, Saffine! My name is Saffine." Her eyes widened and she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, before reaching out to grab Beren's arm. "Come on," then she was hurrying down the hallway, "you're hungry - we should get you something soon…"

He blinked, looking at her incredulously when she seemed to be struggling with her own name, before he was whisked away toward the messhall, wide-eyed. “Well when you’re right, you’re right.” he said, trying to keep up. He knew he could but he didn’t feel comfortable running full tilt inside of a transport ship.

They made it into the messhall, picking two seats next to one another and getting what food was available. Beren grabbed a pitcher of water, two potatoes, and apple, and some ham. It’s safe to say that while he wasn’t rude or messy doing it, he inhaled the food within minutes, pausing every bit to speak to her. “You know this isn’t half bad,” he said, commenting on the food. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he cleared his throat. He turned to Saffine, leg crossed onto his knee. “What brings you on the ship, Saffine?”

“Just… taking a trip to the Imperial City, you know,” Vas commented, as nonchalantly as she could manage - taking a large bite of bread to prevent herself from saying anything else. It had been embarrassing enough already. She’d also already slipped up more than once, and that sat heavy on her. Travelling in a ‘covert’ way could hardly be covert if you kept messing up your name and getting stuck in hammocks. She swallowed the bread down. “Where are you headed Beren?” she asked quietly, taking a drink of water and wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes aglow with curiosity.

Beren couldn’t guess she was deceiving him. He wasn’t gullible, but someone so endearing and clumsily sweet was the last person he would expect to lie to him. He ate a loaf of a roll as well, patting his broad chest with his fist to help it go down. “Oh, I’m just wanting to go back to my home province. I’ve spent enough time in the west, I think.” he told her, turning to her, his dark eyes threatening to swallow her up. “Y’know, I think I’d feel better dungeon diving in Cyrodiil, maybe visit my family after a few months.” He smiled and shrugged. “I guess we have similar reasons. If you’re in the Imperial city, you can come and visit me. I’ll be close by. Probably on one of the port cities outside of it. The city can be expensive to stay in.”

Vas blinked up at his eyes, her own green eyes were round and big, made only bigger and more doe-like by her long lashes. “You’re from there!” she said, taking another drink of the water - and a bite from the bread again. “I would like that -- to visit you I mean!” Vas said enthusiastically, before taking a glance to the side and shrinking back down. That wasn’t going to be possible.

The woman raised a finger up behind her ear and scratched, giving a nervous chuckle again. “I mean, that’s very forward of me to say that. I- You’re nice and all, but I don’t really know you yet and you don’t really know me either, you could be anyone. Maybe you’re not really as nice as you seem now, you hear all these stories and horrible things…” she rattled on, unaware of how awkward it might be making Beren feel, until - “oh but I’m not saying you are! Oh shucks!” Her eyes fell down again and she shoved the bread back in, her cheeks turning red as the apple he’d picked up.

Beren laughed at that, clearly amused. Not in a haughty way, but he appreciated people’s differences and she had a quality he found fun. “Hey, it’s no pressure. We did just meet and you’re right to be wary.” he told her, and before he could speak again, he hiccupped. He felt more in his throat. “Oh great.” he whispered, and downed some more water, quelling that bit of throaty rebellion before it gained a foothold.

“Sorry, I eat too fast sometimes.” he said. Regaining his composure, he smoothed his mane of hair. “Did you grow up in Highrock?”

“I did,” she replied, after emptying her full cheeks. “Wayrest actually, and then um, Daggerfall.” She immediately chided herself for saying it, and it showed on her face in a scrunching of her eyes. “I’ve also moved around a lot to other places not just those. Are you from High Rock too?” she asked, forgetting that they’d already discussed his origins not even moments ago.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. “Uhm,” he said, hesitating. “Uuuuh no, I live in Cyrodiil, on the southern coast. Near Leywiin.” He decided to move along so she nor he got too caught up in the who said what. “It’s beautiful down there. Lot of good fishing and beautiful scenery, and the people are nice.”

He thought back to his home. Maybe he would return after a few months of spending time in central Cyrodiil. He didn’t know. He had plenty of coastlines and ocean now that he was on the Kismet. Maybe his need for tropical climate would be sated before they reached their destination. “I’ve only been to Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, and Highrock. And Blackmarsh for a bit, but not far. I was young and I wanted to say I stepped foot in there.”

“I’ve never been to Cyrodiil, well — not since I was a girl. Silly really, for an Imperial to not really have been there…” Vas commented, scratching her head a little, she wanted to move the conversation along, she didn’t really want to keep talking about herself. “You said that you want to go dungeon diving…” amazingly, something that she could remember and recall. “Is that what you do all the time then? Is it… is it exciting?” She asked, suddenly her elbows were on the table and she was leaning towards him with a smile again. “Do you ever find things?”

He leaned back a bit, not overtly but just enough to where their faces were not inches from each other. “That’s why I do it,” he admitted, meaning the excitement. That and, it often did do good for many people who didn’t want to risk such dangers. “I find lots of things down there...monsters, beasts, gold sometimes. Magic items too, but I try not to touch those.” Beren admitted. “Magic items have a tendency of exploding around me.”

"Exploding?!" Vas asked, her eyes suddenly wide. "Monsters? What kind of monsters?" She asked quickly as her foot tapped under the table with excitement. "I've never even seen a monster… just people," the woman added with a sigh of disappointment.

Despite himself, Beren felt delighted to tell her about some beasts he had faced. He had always felt like it would be arrogant to give tales of himself, but if she asked he would happily oblige. “He also wanted to give her something to be excited about, hearing the sigh in her voice. “I’ve faced a few monsters, mostly skeletons and ghouls. A few beasts too, but I tend to run away when that happens. I hate the idea of harming animals, especially if I am the one stumbling on their home. I fought a necromancer as well. He nearly killed me, but I finished him before he could take me out.” Beren spoke matter-of-fact, as if he was recounting simply for an honest record rather than boasting.

Vas simply sat and listened intently, nodding occasionally. She felt so… inexperienced in a strange way. It’s not that she would have wanted to be cornered by the monsters that had haunted Beren’s adventures, more that she wished she could take a glimpse at life from his eyes. Maybe he’d like to do the same to her. “That all sounds so, frightening actually,” she said eventually with a creased brow. “It’s hard to imagine how one becomes part of that life... “ She eyed him nervously, before cracking a smile. “I suppose I should feel safe with you on board then. Not a lot could stop you!” She thought of her bodyguard too, between the two of them - and some of the other stranger characters on the ship, she was expecting an interesting journey indeed.

The young man smiled at that. It was reactions like that, that made everything worth while.

“Say Beren,” she began, clearing her throat. Apparently eating that much bread dried it out something fierce. “Maybe if we get time, in the spirit of getting to know each other and all, maybe you could help me learn how to do… stuff that you do. Fighting beasts and the like…” She would ask Dro’Sintaba, but he seemed less interested in teaching, and more interested in her gold for the bare minimum. Was it a mistake bringing him along? Could she have done it alone, perhaps? “If you’d like to, that is…”

Beren perked up at that. “Yeah, definitely,” he said, answering before he had any time to think on it. He wanted to help people and this was the best way to do it, probably. He also loved the idea of teaching someone how to do what he did. She likely had some things to teach him as well. “I’m no master like the one who taught me, but I can give you some lessons and show you some moves. They’ll be useful if you ever find yourself without your sword, especially. But they’ll be effective in most situations. We can start tomorrow after the ship’s sailed, if you want.” He had an eager, open way about himself when discussing the possibilities of taking on a pupil.

That made the woman smile from ear to ear -so much so that the dimples were even more prominent. “I have a sword. I’ve trained but only ever in a classroom. Um, never used it.” Vas said, before glancing around the mess hall. “I’d really like to learn from you! In fact, oh-
She said, fumbling into her pocket for a few seconds before pulling out a small handful of septims. “How.. how much do you charge for it?” She held them out to him in her hand. They were new and shiny, and she smiled again.

Beren laughed shyly, holding his hands up. “Whoa whoa, I’m not opening up a school.” he told her, gently placing his hand over hers and closing it around the septims, letting her keep them. “I’m helping out a new friend. Maybe if I get experience teaching other people, I’ll start charging if it becomes a thing. But it’s on the house.” He squeezed her hands a bit in his own. “I want to help out.” Before he let go of her.

Surprised, she kept her hand closed and brought the coins back to her pocket. Vas’s cheeks turned slightly red. “On the house,” she repeated with a smile, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. She found herself wondering how a lesson with Beren would differ to lessons she’d already had, and found that her anticipation was a happy feeling. “Anyway… I should…. I should get back to the quarters,” she said, quite abruptly. Having realised they’d been away for quite a bit of time.

Vas had enjoyed Beren’s company - and she made that clear by beaming down at him when she stood up. “Thanks again for untangling me,” she laughed. “I’ll see you around Beren!” With that said, she had scampered off.

He waved goodbye to her as she zipped away, and then he took a deep breath, talking to himself. “She’s a nice girl,” he breathed, and stood up to get a second helping of food to hit the spot before he went on deck. “Let’s see who else is on this ship.”