POOHEAD189

ᖴOᖇGOTTEᑎ ᖇEᗩᒪᗰᔕ 🌙 Tales of Deadsnows (3-5 Players) (Narrative Roleplay)

The Green Tide Begins

'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO! Welcome to da site.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Hey everyone, due to some health complications on my end, it'll be a hot second before I am up to post so take your time with the replies if you need to!

Blades of the Blood Coast

Time Since Cataclysm

4 Days

The lack of noise in the Inn was deafening. Most of the residents had fled into the night after the attack, and only four others had stayed throughout the night and grumbled down the stairs for some food. A sailor of Norgardian stock called for a meal in his heavily accent, two duelist fops tried talking up Isolde and the same dusky woman from the previous day lounged upon a chair and watched the others like a prowling wolf. Each of them seemed accustomed to danger in their own way judging by their eyes, but none sat near the group. Raddek downed a huge draught and brought the cup down the table, accompanied with an audible 'clap.' He looked at Reyvadin bleary eyed and grim as ever. The young lord had done well for himself since the crisis, getting a new spear at a steal and a full night's sleep.

"It was a hybrid, Reyv," the Thaegar said bluntly, taking a sausage and biting off half of it. "Half man, half demon, and it went after us, and Beren over there."

Beren looked over his shoulder, but he regarded Faeril rather than Raddek. "It broke through my window," he admitted. "But when it came in, it looked like it was trying to get into the hallway instead of killing me. I had to punch it before it burned me." He let out a small grunt as Emmaline pondered, incessantly tapping his injured area. He couldn't gauge if she was kind hearted or a huge bitch. Beren tended to try and see the positive in people and stacked her at being absent minded, but as it was he was a bit too tired to deal with a lot at the moment. His eyes twitched at the pain and he gingerly but firmly moved her hand off of him.

"I'm not obviously injured," he corrected resolutely, grabbing his top and sliding it back on him. It was different than his casual wear the day before, sleeveless and made of dark and sturdy material, partially covered by a vest of crimson he donned next. It was a strange outfit, but not tacky. It had the look of functional wear used for travel, but made for a sort of martial sect of monks of priests. Either way, it wasn't so loud as to gather suspicion despite its contrasting colors, and it covered his bandages nicely. "We ready?"

"I'm not sure what is happening" Raddek pondered, scratching his chin. "Beren killed that thing, so I trust him. But that doesn't leave the fact it attacked us here, at this specific place. We'll need to be on our toes." He reached into his shirt and gripped something, likely attached to the leather thong around his neck. The ex-crusader let the others finish eating before he called them all to grab their gear. They would look for the beer whilst Emmaline and Beren would go after the Sultana lead. Seemed simple enough.

---

Raddek, Faeril, Reyvadin, (and whoever else wished to follow) made their way into the sunlit streets of Varone, all of the dark fears evaporating for a brief moment as the day was just beginning to gather momentum. The street traffic was as alive as ever, sea gulls calling to the south. The cracks and clinks of hammers could be heard, accompanied by the shouts of the day and the smell of smoke wafting over the otherwise clean air. All seemed normal as Raddek and the others walked. It took a brief moment for them to realize the hammers were for repairs of damaged dockside buildings, the shouts were of alarm, and the smell of smoke was the burning of fires that had yet to be doused the night before, engulfing the small structures of now dead-men.

They passed a crowd of gatherers, guardsmen keeping men and women back from what seemed to be a horribly mutilated corpse. They could only see glimpsed from the bustling onlookers, but from where they stood, the slab of meat that was once a man had a gaping hole where the kidney was, and a sobbing woman prostrate over the corpse as if her cries could call him back from the grave. Raddek pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulder, but otherwise remained impassive. They walked on.

The dockyard wharves of Varone were legendary. Huge cranes and burgeoning complexes of shipping, storage, and repair facilities covered the horizon like mountains, and up close they were as great beasts, larger than life yet somehow there before their eyes. The contrasting sun brightened brown of the wood meeting the white marble and brick red of the city proper was startling, beautiful enough for a painting. However, there was very little in the way of actual ships docked within the jungle of timber and lapping water. A few trader brigantines here and there, half a dozen sloops and caravels, and one massive galleon sporting Dre Costan colors. It seemed the rumors of the city falling on hard times wasn't exaggeration.

At the corner of one of the warehouses, Raddek stopped the group and called them to gather in close. Once they had, he sat himself down on a crate and whispered to them in the shadows cast by the sun. "So, we need to make a decision. If we're to find some alcohol for old Jonathan, there's only a few ways we can go about it, and all involve some sort of criminal activity." We revealed, hands on his knees as he leaned forward. He looked almost like a bandit leader himself, with the clothes and the fearsome look to his gaze. "We either find a smuggler and cut a deal, or we find where one of these thief groups keep their alcohol and steal it all. One requires money, the other requires quick feet and maybe a scuffle or two. But I won't make the decision for you, we need the group to decide. What will it be?"

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil side eyed her, bits of noodles half sucked into his mouth. He hadn't been expecting Taya to ask this of them, though he guessed it was going to happen eventually. Had she been holding it in the entire time they were fucking with the Scorpions and the Spiders? Taya did seem resolute, even staring Sayeeda down. Neil could just barely do that and he'd fucked her, and he could only do that because he was crazy.

"Taya, I know we're not ones to shy from throwing caution into the wind and endangering ourselves. But usually there's something to gain from it." He reasoned, swallowing and promptly shoveling more into his mouth. His cheeks were stuffed like a squirrels, as if he was afraid food would grow scarce and he'd have store it.

"You'll be rewarded!" She exclaimed as she threw her hands out.

"You don't know that!" He laughed, pointing at her.

Taya rolled her eyes and mocked. "YoU dOnT kNoW tHaT."

"Oh you're trying to out-child me!? That is adorable." Neil slammed his hand on the table, prepared to be as immature as possible and winding out before Junebug gave him a look. He gave her a look back but rather than say anything he sank back into the chair, gingerly lifting his hands up and exhaling as he continued. "I guess we can go take a look. The Terrans might have a reward for some info or some solid evidence of what happened if nothing else."

"That could be a good point," Junebug remarked, unconvinced but tired of the debate. Truth be told, Neil and Junebug weren't against going other than the lack of assured profit. It was just hard seeing Taya with such surety when, in all likelihood, everything and everyone she has ever known was likely dead.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Are you accepting new players? And if so, what are your rules for magical healing and such? I'm thinking of an alchemist/poisoner type of person.

@Norschtalen

Well, some mending spells for your sorcerer, there's some seraphic/divine augmental "magic" from clerics, and there are also alchemical/herbal remedies. It really depends on what you would like to focus on :)

Check the second post in the OOC for the stats, and if you make a character you will be provided with addition info.

And yes, I am admitting new players!

Tales of Tamriel

Their sleep in the Palace of Kings was fitful but welcome compared to the prospect of camping in the fierce blizzard. Even the hunter Daixanos wasn't keen on the prospect of sleeping outside this night, and so they accepted the Jarl's hospitality despite political differences. The Argonian himself slept on the floor, but laid near one of the hearths to keep his cold-blooded form limber. He was allowed his own area, preferring his solitude.

Early that morn, Galmor Stone-fist met with them after they had eaten a heart breakfast, bringing them into the planning room where no doubt many assaults on Imperial forces had been planned. A map of Skyrim was laid out on the slab of a table, knives and nordic fetishes pinned to it in various places. He spoke with a rustic, northern accent and a voice like grinding stone, but he sounded was anything but a dumb brute by the weight of his words and the surety of his posture.

"It's two days walk from the gates of Windhelm to Valtheim Towers. I have not been there since last spring, but my scout, Waldulf, informed me the locals no longer consider it a welcome crossing. You've been given three days provisions and water to match. If you must take water from the river, do not step in it. Boats do not travel there for a reason. If the crabs do not get you, the current will. Which makes the crossing even more dangerous, so beware."

"No horses?" Kris asked, though she had doubted the prospect initially. Mounts were expensive, and it was doubtful Ulfric trusted them enough to come back with the beasts in good health.

"The road is steep, and the crossing is not fit for a horse. Unless you rode to Riverwood, it will be impossible." Galmor replied, looking at Kris and her companion without betraying any emotion. There was a hardness to his gaze that looked as if it could turn to wrath in an instant, but he seemed a hard enough man to reign his rage in save only for his true enemies. The berserker tendencies of the nords were not to be unleashed lightly. "Come back as soon as you are able, honored guests."

Dax gave a nod, but did not speak. His bow held easily in his clawed hand, he simply walked out of the room with Kris like as not behind him. He imagined his constant state of silence was grating, but she had told him she was a soldier. Placing action higher than words was hopefully not a new concept to her. He had never been too keen on conversation, even amongst his Hist brothers. Tsleeixth had always been the speaker. He still missed his old friend.

The air outside was crisp, but the sun kissed his reptilian snout and his crocodilion tail lashed in anticipation. The nords and refugees of Windhelm alike watched them leave, one Dunmner woman muttering about 'lazy argonians' as she poured out some spoiled soup into the sewers. Dax did not look at her or even stop, as he normally would.

His mind was on the hunt this day.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Unfortunately I feel like since my crisis started my memory of my character(s) has been sorta erased. Sure, I know still who they are, but there's no real connection anymore if you know what I mean.

Long story short: I can't promise operation restart will actually take place anytime this weekend. I'm sorry :(

@Fetzen

I appreciate the update, my friend. Just keep me posted!

Tales of Tamriel

Ulfric weighed the statement in his mind, and after a moment of consideration, he looked as if he had made up his mind. "Very well, you are welcome here. And though I doubt you will believe me, I have no ill will towards Bretons or even full-blooded mer, as long as they do not commit fealty to the Thalmor. You forget, I was a Legionnare myself once, like mighty Talos. Unlike the Imperials, however, I will not bow to those who sought to slaughter my people as they have with the Thalmor. The once mighty empire are now whipped dogs, and Skyrim wants no part in it."

"I have heard others in this land think differently," Kris remarked with a smile. "The Thalmor are enslaving bastards, but do not become that which you hate, good Jarl Ulfric."

Her tone was mocking, but Ulfric finally laughed. Loudly. "You should look at your own history, Imperial. There is no people on Tamriel who have subjugated more than your people, and they still seek to do it here. Only now under someone else's dominion. I only wish to leave Skyrim to the Nords, as Blackmarsh is left to the people of your friend." He extended a hand at Dax, and more than a few eyes fell on him.

Truth be told, Daixanos cared nothing about the politics of men and elves. The nords of skyrim were fine people, for landstriders, but they were divided and he wasn't going to direct them one way or the other. The followers of the Hist did not have the fondest memories of Imperials attempting to conquer their lands, but their main enemies were the Dunmer. He still felt the jarring of his arm when he last struck and killed one of the wretched dark elves with his axe.

"We are welcome in your hall," Daixanos repeated slowly, promptly changing the subject. "But why are we here? You have not put ussss in c-chainssss." He looked visibly uncomfortable at the mention of the word. "Do me the honor of telling me why. You are not recruiting us, are you?"

Ulfric stroked his blonde beard, sobering up. He was very passionate about the current political divide, but he wouldn't be the leader if he could not cool himself at will. "You are right, my friend. I did invite you two for a reason. You see, there is another threat to Skyrim that is not Imperial, and I cannot send my men or it will spark the war I hope to avoid for now. You must do this, and if you do, you will be greatly rewarded by whatever you wish from the Jarl of Windhelm."

Tales of Tamriel

Windhelm Hall was as contrastingly austere and pompous as most Landstrider landmarks Daixanous had seen throughout his time at Skyrim. The drab but sturdy stone towered over them, the walls lined with tapestries, war trophies, or the skulls of great beasts. He could at least understand the latter two to some extent. The nords were men, but they had a martial, primitive view on the world he could appreciate. For Dax's part, he approached the throne, though he did not bow before the 'barbarian king.' A large nord brute approached him, pointing at the stone floor.

"Kneel, lizard."

"No!" Ulfric called with an upraised hand, sternly gazing at his retainer before the nord backed off dejectedly. Ulric fixed his gaze on Dax. "My apologies, noble warrior. Your people are known to me, and from what I have heard, you have fought like a beast in the tavern. Tell me, do you know of the Argonian Hunter living near Falkreath?"

"I am he." Was all Dax replied. The solidly built argonian stood tall but easily, like a deceptively lounging hunting cat, ready to spring at a moment's notice. His frills still had bits of coated snowflakes at their ends, though the warmth of the hearth was beginning to warm the lizard-man's body quite nicely. For his part, Ulfric laughed heartily.

"Then it is a great honor! Most of your people slink about, but you prowl the forests and kill even giants with your arrows!"

There was a long pause, the argonian tilting his head. "My people are escaped slaves. They have little means to make a living, and no skills such as mine from their servitude." Dax reiterated. The men around them murmured, but not necessarily disrespectfully.

Ulfric acquiesced with a nod. "Forgive me. It is not your people I seek to run out of Skyrim. Only the Imperials, and their spies are comprised of members of every man, mer, and beastman they hold sway over. I cannot afford to trust easily, and so I trust no one until it is safe. Though I speak too hastily, for the mer are the ones who order the imperials about. Weaklings, I say! You, good hunter, came to this land to seek your fortune and hold yourself honorably. You are welcomes in my hall."

A few of the more silent men nodded in acceptance, though a few of the nords seemed uneasy by this proclamation. Daixanos stepped to the side and spread a hand toward's Kris.

"This landstrider travels with me. She is welcome too, if you would have her. Or I would leave you, as the Hist wills."