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Treading the Rhetorical Minefield
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cider
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I'm just your average New Yorker. A guy who thinks he can do more than he ought.
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I would hope so, land mines don't exist in TES, and Noelle isn't a miner.
Noelle, as she spoke, appeared as some sort of aedra as she spoke; an effect Sarel was sure had something to do with his exhaustion since his vision had become so pallid and sensitive to light. She seemed so beautiful and gentile, in fact, that Sarel almost had no time to be offended, but that came in time.
She was worried about the amount of space Sarel would be able to devise under the stressing conditions. And it was simple really, a great deal actually: 2 dozen or so. That was assuming Sharee allowed it, but Sarel figured that if she did, which was likely, she would have to do it to such a degree that it was almost overwhelmingly worth it. And Sarel could provide that. He’d done the same thing during his journey to Akaviir. The only difference was that he had far less access to materials and seeds. It would be easy business to create a step ladder sort of platform, decending as it went, most certainly somewhere at the aft. The design could be improved by magically infused clear glass pots in order to double the space available. The mages on the ship could come together to form a semi-permanent barrier for protection against rough winds, and ballista bolts— and especially against fireballs.
But the girl wouldn’t hear this. And she wouldn’t hear about the obvious medicinal, alchemical, and transcendental properties of herba either. She dismissed Sarel and left. Sarel searched his mind for a shred of a memory that he’d done something bad to her. Perhaps is criticism during the meetings with the captain. He was a little trenchant, but this is how Dunmers are, she must know that.
Serge came back as Sharee and Malakaus rowed off from the tiny bay. Sarel felt a pang of paranoia as he thought about them leaving us at the mercy of jungle cats, more bandits, or a devious plot of their own making. They could very well be going back to the boat in order to leave the team behind, more loot for them.
Serge had successfully attached the crossbow to his wrist, he stared at it’s machinery as he leaned against the wall near his Dunmer pal.
“Imagine if they didn’t come back.” Sarel said as a half joke.
“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Serge asked as if not paying attention.
“It would.”
“Would you kill them?” Serge asked with a new interest.
“I don’t know. Probably not. I don’t think there’s a time in my life I ever would have either. Would you?” Sarel asked back.
“Maybe. A lot of my stuff is on that boat. I’ve sunk a good bit of time into this. It might be worth my satisfaction to hunt them down if they betrayed me.”
“Do you think you could kill Sharee?” Sarel asked, aware of how absurd the question was, and not ignoring Noelle’s presence.
“Maybe. If I fought as dirty as she would, maybe. The trouble is, I don’t know if I’m clever enough.”
“You’re plenty clever,” Sarel responded without thinking. It was true either way.
“Thank you, but not that clever. You could.”
“If I wanted to, sure. Anything’s possible. She could just as easily kill me.”
“True, and then there’s Malakaus to contend with.”
“Assuming he’d stay loyal. We did make a pact, didn’t we. Gods what was that?” Sarel questioned with a chuckle.
“Not quite sure, spur of the moment fraternidad?” Serge responded with a boyish tone. The duo laughed a little.
“I’m feeling better already.” Sarel said with a humor as he sat up. It was true, at least for him. His magicka reserves were kind enough to fill themselves, not all people had that privilege. He could feel his strength returning.
“Laughter is the best medicine.” Serge opined.
“Ha, tell that to a healer of Mara, or Kynerith. They would say alchemy is the medicine of the future.” Sarel said with a confident worldiness.
“Alchemy is an antiquated school of medicine Sarel, for the Atmorian hunter gatherer. We’re gentlemen of the Fourth Era, magick is our muse of medicine now.” Serge insisted with a scholarly intonation. For all the jokes and stupidity, these were not stupid men.
“Not ordinary alchemy, that’s the beauty of it. It’s very tiny, very small. There are people who say diseases are not magickal, but of physical origin, just too small for ordinary eyesight. Sometimes, I think I can see these tiny bugs.”
“That sounds absolutely mental, Sarel. Nothing like that exists in any sort of journal.” Serge said easily, dismissively.
“Just because we haven’t studied it yet does not mean it does not exist. We’d need a sort of internal telescope. Rather than looking at the stars, looking closely at our own world.”
Serge stared at his friend a while, looked at the dark horizon. “Are you sure you haven’t had any Moon Sugar lately?”
“Bah,” Sarel exclaimed, pushing Serge off the wall, “Damn you.”
Serge lost a little bit of balance but regained it further on. He looked around after laughing a little, saw Noelle on a bit of a mission. “Hey, gir… Noelle! Sharee is sending men to help us move all these things, no need to worry just yet, they won’t be here for another hour or so. Have a seat!”
She was worried about the amount of space Sarel would be able to devise under the stressing conditions. And it was simple really, a great deal actually: 2 dozen or so. That was assuming Sharee allowed it, but Sarel figured that if she did, which was likely, she would have to do it to such a degree that it was almost overwhelmingly worth it. And Sarel could provide that. He’d done the same thing during his journey to Akaviir. The only difference was that he had far less access to materials and seeds. It would be easy business to create a step ladder sort of platform, decending as it went, most certainly somewhere at the aft. The design could be improved by magically infused clear glass pots in order to double the space available. The mages on the ship could come together to form a semi-permanent barrier for protection against rough winds, and ballista bolts— and especially against fireballs.
But the girl wouldn’t hear this. And she wouldn’t hear about the obvious medicinal, alchemical, and transcendental properties of herba either. She dismissed Sarel and left. Sarel searched his mind for a shred of a memory that he’d done something bad to her. Perhaps is criticism during the meetings with the captain. He was a little trenchant, but this is how Dunmers are, she must know that.
Serge came back as Sharee and Malakaus rowed off from the tiny bay. Sarel felt a pang of paranoia as he thought about them leaving us at the mercy of jungle cats, more bandits, or a devious plot of their own making. They could very well be going back to the boat in order to leave the team behind, more loot for them.
Serge had successfully attached the crossbow to his wrist, he stared at it’s machinery as he leaned against the wall near his Dunmer pal.
“Imagine if they didn’t come back.” Sarel said as a half joke.
“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Serge asked as if not paying attention.
“It would.”
“Would you kill them?” Serge asked with a new interest.
“I don’t know. Probably not. I don’t think there’s a time in my life I ever would have either. Would you?” Sarel asked back.
“Maybe. A lot of my stuff is on that boat. I’ve sunk a good bit of time into this. It might be worth my satisfaction to hunt them down if they betrayed me.”
“Do you think you could kill Sharee?” Sarel asked, aware of how absurd the question was, and not ignoring Noelle’s presence.
“Maybe. If I fought as dirty as she would, maybe. The trouble is, I don’t know if I’m clever enough.”
“You’re plenty clever,” Sarel responded without thinking. It was true either way.
“Thank you, but not that clever. You could.”
“If I wanted to, sure. Anything’s possible. She could just as easily kill me.”
“True, and then there’s Malakaus to contend with.”
“Assuming he’d stay loyal. We did make a pact, didn’t we. Gods what was that?” Sarel questioned with a chuckle.
“Not quite sure, spur of the moment fraternidad?” Serge responded with a boyish tone. The duo laughed a little.
“I’m feeling better already.” Sarel said with a humor as he sat up. It was true, at least for him. His magicka reserves were kind enough to fill themselves, not all people had that privilege. He could feel his strength returning.
“Laughter is the best medicine.” Serge opined.
“Ha, tell that to a healer of Mara, or Kynerith. They would say alchemy is the medicine of the future.” Sarel said with a confident worldiness.
“Alchemy is an antiquated school of medicine Sarel, for the Atmorian hunter gatherer. We’re gentlemen of the Fourth Era, magick is our muse of medicine now.” Serge insisted with a scholarly intonation. For all the jokes and stupidity, these were not stupid men.
“Not ordinary alchemy, that’s the beauty of it. It’s very tiny, very small. There are people who say diseases are not magickal, but of physical origin, just too small for ordinary eyesight. Sometimes, I think I can see these tiny bugs.”
“That sounds absolutely mental, Sarel. Nothing like that exists in any sort of journal.” Serge said easily, dismissively.
“Just because we haven’t studied it yet does not mean it does not exist. We’d need a sort of internal telescope. Rather than looking at the stars, looking closely at our own world.”
Serge stared at his friend a while, looked at the dark horizon. “Are you sure you haven’t had any Moon Sugar lately?”
“Bah,” Sarel exclaimed, pushing Serge off the wall, “Damn you.”
Serge lost a little bit of balance but regained it further on. He looked around after laughing a little, saw Noelle on a bit of a mission. “Hey, gir… Noelle! Sharee is sending men to help us move all these things, no need to worry just yet, they won’t be here for another hour or so. Have a seat!”
By the way, I just realized, the Mages guild no longer exists, especially not in Cyrodiil. Were you referring to the college of winterhold perhaps, Lucius? I doubt you'd be so arrogant as to suggest he was in the College of whispers or Synod.
In
Invisibilis Spiritus; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters (A real world fantasy epic)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Bump
So I started the collab between Peik and myself in TP. As I said yesterday, Raid and Kissshot should begin their own, perhaps cider could join in if he is around. Yorg, I sent you a PM and am waiting for a response. I hope I'm not forgetting anyone.
Let me know if you have any issues or impediments, thanks.
Let me know if you have any issues or impediments, thanks.
Sarel nodded at Malakaus, glared at the chest as he left. It was, indeed, bound to be heavy, that was fairly obvious, but it needed to be taken; it’d be wasted if left here. Sarel leaned cooly against the cavernous wall, adjusting his swords and armor to be more comfortable. Sarel dipped into his rucksack and retrieved one of his magic potions. He downed it and the bottle disappeared; sent to the inventory void, to be used again later. It tasted a little like blueberry, a recipe of Beilin himself. The man was so practical, so rational, yet he held such a high esteem for aesthetics. He taught Sarel of the beauty and elegance of the red sash. It was both inspiring to allies, and demeaning to enemies. It flowed about his form as easily as his sword, and that was the point, to draw the comparison clearly, and eloquently.
Sarel felt a pang of nostalgia as he waited for his magicka reserves to be filled once again. He missed his master so much, and there was nothing he could do about it. Sarel almost felt that he could weep right there, if he wanted to. Fortunately he had other things to do.
Serge passed him by carrying an armband crossbow. He plucked at it’s bows and smiled as he began fitting it on himself. “I’m going to like being a pirate, Sarel. How about you?” He called behind him as he continued on.
“I’m not quite sure,” The Dunmer said to himself more than to his friend.
With confidence Sarel rose from the wall, lifted his hands slightly above his waist and closed his eyes. His hands glowed a bright yellow and twinkling powder fizzed from somewhere on his skin. It fell to the floor and disappeared, it was physical magicka. The top to the chest slammed shut, locked itself. Sarel breathed deeply, his tattoo seemed to drip from his skin and into his eyes; he opened them, now an inky black. “By your grace, Boeth.” Sarel whispered to himself. A yellow outline appeared around the chest and it was lifted slightly, fell back down. Sarel lifted his hands forcefully and the case levitated to chest height immediately. Sarel moved it forward, walking behind it at a brisk pace. Once out of the cave Sarel stood still, moved the chest gently over the boat, and then slowly into it. The boat dipped a little further into the water and Sarel leaned in exhaustion against the outside wall, falling onto a nearby chair. Serge jogged up to his friend and tapped his shoulder.
“Are you alright, Brother?” Serge asked, worry lingering on his words.
“Yes, I think I will be.” Sarel said as he lifted his head. His eyes were still black, he blinked at the darkness receded back to his skin.
“Would you like a stammy?” Serge asked, referencing his Armyman origins.
“No, I’m alright.”
Sarel sat there for a little while as Serge went to the boat to speak with Sharee.
“Sarel is tired right now. He should rest a while, but he’ll be fit in no time. So, since we can’t all be in the boat, I might as well stay with him while you all head back. We can take care of ourselves, as long as we’re together anyway.”
As Sharee answered Noelle appeared from the cave, followed by her companion. She asked about the garden. Sarel put on a little smile, remembering his intent.
“Ah, yes. It’s not that I know something you don’t, but rather, I can do things you cant.” Sarel began. “I can find the space for it somewhere on the ship, I assure you. I oversee all maintenance and construction on the ship. I can give it a push, you see. All I ask, my dear, are two small plots for myself. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ve realized I need to grow my own herba. That’s assuming you are the one maintaining it.”
Sarel felt a pang of nostalgia as he waited for his magicka reserves to be filled once again. He missed his master so much, and there was nothing he could do about it. Sarel almost felt that he could weep right there, if he wanted to. Fortunately he had other things to do.
Serge passed him by carrying an armband crossbow. He plucked at it’s bows and smiled as he began fitting it on himself. “I’m going to like being a pirate, Sarel. How about you?” He called behind him as he continued on.
“I’m not quite sure,” The Dunmer said to himself more than to his friend.
With confidence Sarel rose from the wall, lifted his hands slightly above his waist and closed his eyes. His hands glowed a bright yellow and twinkling powder fizzed from somewhere on his skin. It fell to the floor and disappeared, it was physical magicka. The top to the chest slammed shut, locked itself. Sarel breathed deeply, his tattoo seemed to drip from his skin and into his eyes; he opened them, now an inky black. “By your grace, Boeth.” Sarel whispered to himself. A yellow outline appeared around the chest and it was lifted slightly, fell back down. Sarel lifted his hands forcefully and the case levitated to chest height immediately. Sarel moved it forward, walking behind it at a brisk pace. Once out of the cave Sarel stood still, moved the chest gently over the boat, and then slowly into it. The boat dipped a little further into the water and Sarel leaned in exhaustion against the outside wall, falling onto a nearby chair. Serge jogged up to his friend and tapped his shoulder.
“Are you alright, Brother?” Serge asked, worry lingering on his words.
“Yes, I think I will be.” Sarel said as he lifted his head. His eyes were still black, he blinked at the darkness receded back to his skin.
“Would you like a stammy?” Serge asked, referencing his Armyman origins.
“No, I’m alright.”
Sarel sat there for a little while as Serge went to the boat to speak with Sharee.
“Sarel is tired right now. He should rest a while, but he’ll be fit in no time. So, since we can’t all be in the boat, I might as well stay with him while you all head back. We can take care of ourselves, as long as we’re together anyway.”
As Sharee answered Noelle appeared from the cave, followed by her companion. She asked about the garden. Sarel put on a little smile, remembering his intent.
“Ah, yes. It’s not that I know something you don’t, but rather, I can do things you cant.” Sarel began. “I can find the space for it somewhere on the ship, I assure you. I oversee all maintenance and construction on the ship. I can give it a push, you see. All I ask, my dear, are two small plots for myself. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ve realized I need to grow my own herba. That’s assuming you are the one maintaining it.”
EliteCommander said
There is one thing I agree with Lucius on, and that is that many people would of Azura's Star, along with other famous artifacts. There are several popular books, such as that tell of these legendary items. It's just that Daedric artifacts aren't something you just...get. In each of the games, you play as a fated hero of some type, so what you can do there doesn't apply to the majority of Tamriel's people. In order to get a Daedric artifact, you would have to be a faithful servant of the Daedra, or lucky to come across it, or the knowledge of where to find it. I wouldn't say it would make sense for us to get any artifacts like that, unless it was a major part of the story.
Plus, the Deadric lord needs to accept the offer given. Why would Azura accept something given to her by Malakaus? It's really, just not worth changing the story for.
Lucius Cypher said
Why wouldn't Malakaus know about the Azura Star?
1) It may not even be that anymore. I'm pretty sure the items change throughout the eras
2) There is no reason to assume that he would. Where would he learn about this from, and its properties? I highly doubt that anyone wrote about it.
I want to make it clear what's been happening here. Within the last few hours you've suggested your character create the gun, and that the whole party should travel to a completely different area in the world, specifically, in order to get the proper metals to do so, despite our reservations. And that the whole crew should travel to a part of the world in search for something completely unrelated to the storyline, of which there may be no historical proof, so that we can have an item, only for the items sake. This all seems rather self-centered to me.
Lucius Cypher said
Can't say I'm certain what everyone else would be doing, presumably they'd also be helping getting the star, or finding their own artifacts.
And this is pretty much why this whole thing is a bad idea.
We can have cannons without having shotguns.
Lucius Cypher said
By the way Commander, would we be doing any quest from the Daedric Lords at some point? I may have reason to obtain Azura's Star if Malakaus is going to be using his Enchanting skill with great regularity.
And I really don't like this. I'm pretty sure deadric weapons are only given out to individuals. So what would everyone else be doing while Malakaus makes the trek to Cyrodiil, or Skyrim, or Morrowind, or High Rock, in order to speak with a demigod he has no reason to worship to get a item he has no reason to know of?
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