WittyReference

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

A bloody steel helm sat dented and uneasy along a lonely beach. Some two miles from the docks and warehouse he had found himself in not two days prior, a large orc had placed the simple marker and waded into the sea. From it's crimped and curt eyeholes, the vigil stared unblinking to the West. In its unflinching gaze it saw the man who would call upon it once more, breast deep in churning waves.

Cub ran. Like always. After Rihad, he ran. Covered in ancient blood and Dwemer pride, he fled. He remembered the way the man didn't make a sound as he fell. As he was pushed rather. As he was charged off a building rather. As he was crushed to nothing beneath the weight of a green bull rather. Drenched in blood and running. Whether to or from danger, Cub was always running. Cub was always moving. Stagnant in Windhelm and people died. Stagnant in Rihad and people died. Stagnant in his stronghold and people died. Thrice damned and thrice abandoned, he ran.

A circle of briney crimson sloshed around him as the blood of the usurper spilled into the mouth of the earth. The swishing, violent, watery, tusked, green mouth of the earth. It tasted bitter. Such is the case for mer, Cub mused. Not tasted bitter. Felt bitter. He tasted hate. It was a familiar taste. It was why he ran to the ocean. It was why he waded so deep into its grasp.

Cub was tired. Though his arms floated in the bubbling green waters, they weighed like lead. In his hands he held How's and Why's like sword and shield. He didn't like it much. It wasn't a hammer.

His shackle would corrode in such waters he warned himself. He really should go back to shore. He really should go back to the docks. Why? His armour was there. Why? He left it there. Why? He needed to be stealthy. Why? He needed to rescue Havar. Why? He needed help to find Zhaveed. Why? Because Zhaveed is the only person that could have saved the people of Windhelm.

Cub thought a moment as his eyes locked on a strand of seaweed floating past. He wanted to find Zhaveed to save the people he couldn't because he was too busy trying to find Zhaveed to save the people he couldn't because he was too busy... Cub closed his eyes as a large wave broke against his chest. He should get back to shore. He should get back to the docks. He should get back to Zhaveed.

Cub was tired. Standing stone in ocean depths, nothing made sense. How could he be so strong yet so powerless? When Shavi was nearly caught in the Palace of kings, Cub ran off and was found by Arbus. When Arbus offered him a home, Cub ran off to slay the emperor. When the emperor offered to bring the world peace, Cub fought alongside the others to slay him. Because Zhaveed said he deserved it. Because Zhaveed thought it could be done. Whether toward or away from danger, Cub was always running. Cub was always following.

Because he wasn't strong enough on his own. Because people die when they depend on him. He needed Zhaveed. He needed his father. He needed Arbus. He needed. And that is why he wasn't strong enough. Cub had seen Zhaveed lie, cheat, steal for his cause. For all his adoration, Zhaveed did what he had to because he had to. Zhaveed didn't run. Zhaveed didn't need anyone. He...he didn't need Cub.

Cub's stomach dropped as another wave crashed against him. He thought he'd come all this way to help Zhaveed and save the world again. But if Zhaveed never needed him in the first place...Cub thought back to the screams of Rihad. Men and women, children and babies blown apart because the "Heroes of Tamriel" had decided to hide there. They died because he thought he could help them. But he didn't help them. He killed them.

A bloody steel helm sat dented and uneasy along a lonely beach. Some two miles from the docks and warehouse he had found himself in not two days prior, a large orc had placed the simple marker and waded into the sea. From it's crimped and curt eyeholes, the vigil stared unblinking to the West. In its unflinching gaze it saw the man who would call upon it once more disappear beneath churning waves.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Time for Cub to teleport and ninja the Orichalcum.

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

I can't wait for Travence to blow his nose on his card.

The Fall (Medieval-Fantasy) OOC

I suspected as much. Probably wouldn't let the Feyhorn in the Council Halls but more than willing to let them die for the cause.

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

Demensia said
Still no IC stuff? Shame, I want to go on a murdering spree already D:

Imagine if Mark and Travence get paired up.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

*neighs and frolics*

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

I like that Demesia's Avatar and Signature are basically the same.

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

Thank you sir! David and Goliath they are :p

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

Annnnd, number two!

Name: Dr. Kaikaus M. Rahja

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Appearance: A middle-aged professor of Indian descent, Dr. Rahja sports a full head of hair, if a bit grey, a sensible beard and mustache combo and an understated gold pair of spectacles. Along in his brown wing-tips and stain-resistant khakis, the Good Doctor's elbow-padded tweed blazer kept him warm and stylish on his day into town. Short in stature, Dr. Rahja still carries with him a presence and the weight of Academia.

Strengths and Weaknesses, Quirks and Traits: A man of great intellect, Dr. Rahja is a well-witted man. A historian by trade with a steel trap memory, what Dr. Rahja lacks in physical prowess he makes up for in intimate knowledge of everything from ancient military tactics to travelling by only the constellations to basic cartography. The wonders of the old world are his sword and shield. Unfortunately, these do little against actual weaponry. For all his knowledge of a Gorgon's attack patterns or the approximate reach of an opponent's lance, they are still very real dangers against which he has next to no defense.

A Brief History: Born and raised in an affluent home, Kaikaus Rahja was his parents' only and beloved son of four children. Always seeking adventure and to be a "regular boy" Rahja escaped into stories of epic conflicts and impossible monsters. Though he excelled in his studies, any free time he could spare was spend alongside Odysseus on his trek home from the Trojan War or at the Gate of Thermopylae, phalanxed with his Three-Hundred Spartan brothers.

Dreams of childhood usually die a quiet death as the boy becomes a man but Rahja was lucky. By chance his senior English Teacher had mentioned Homer in class one day in passing. Meeting with him each day during lunch period from then on, the two discussed much until the day his teacher recommended a career in the field.

One becomes two, day becomes night, Kaikaus the Dreamer becomes Dr. Rajha, the accredited professor.

Of Divinations and Tribulations - OOC And IC Thread

I see! Well then, I should make another! Second CS incoming