The Elder Scrolls - Ashfall

[IcarusBen]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

 

"'Fraid not," Mathyn shook his head with a smile. "Don't remember having ever left Morrowind, even for a short while. The Bosmeri lad next to me, by the way, is Aspen of Valenwood."

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

"Well, nice to meet you, Aspen of Valenwood. Now, guys, I suppose we should get to the barracks, right serjo?"

 

Eponine looked at the guard with that last word.

 

"Let's go..."

 

You n'wah.

 

You son of an orc.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

Providing solemn testimony? I can think of worse ways to spend a lunchtime. I slid out of my seat to join the little party, letting a little of my amusement show in my face.

 

I didn't believe for one moment that this Breton girl was innocent. I saw the look of panic when the guards arrived, heard the muttered curse, recognised the flight instinct kicking in after she took care of that guard's googlies. I'm a thief, and I know a fellow guilty party when I see one. What I'd do with that knowledge was anyone's guess, including mine. I'm a spur-o'-the-moment kind of man.

 

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Faircroft," I say, my Skyrim burr rolling the 'r's distinctively.

Edited May 26, 2015 by Ghosthands

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar/Skip to Barracks]

 

"Well, then, let's get going."

 

"Let's."

 

Eponine and the guard both walked out the door and straight towards the nearest barracks.

 

The guard opened the door for Eponine and her "group". "After you."

 

OOC: Poor Kelh. He's got no idea what happens to people who give a bad testimony for Eponine.

[The UltimoScorp]

GM IC:

 

Unbeknownst to the group, they were being tailed.

 

From a fair distance, Bites-His-Tail watched.

 

He did not trust the word of a Breton thief. Much less one who cursed with Sithis' name. And attacked a guard, at that.

 

Beyond that, he had.... Other business in the city of Narsis.

Edited May 26, 2015 by Chumpu

[Razgriz]

IC (Outside Narsis):

A lone, tall figured walked the road in silence, eyes smoothly shifting across the landscape every so often for threats, but always returning to the city ahead of him, watching it slowly grow in expanse and detail.

Reaching with his far hand across his broad chest, he grasped the aged and worn brown halfcloak firmly and tugged twice, shaking loose some grey from the complexion. Dust or Ash?

Same thing here, really. Either way, it had an annoying habit of collecting, even if as an afterthought.

Maybe he just missed the weightier snow from home. To be honest, the rag had served more purpose there than here, given the province's habit of being frigid and very north in general.

Or, maybe he just felt a small vestige of showmanship, and wanted to look his best entering a new city. After all, wasn't the sword clean?

A humorless laugh pierced the veil of silence that had fallen over his stretch of road.

That was just maintenance. The days of coming home with the spoils of war were over.

All that remained was a wandering soul, off on a goalless quest to gods-knew-where.

And wander Artas did.

OOC: Artas Oscarsson open for interaction.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Barracks, Narsis)

 

What awaited the small group inside was a small enough chamber, with a couple of guards in the corner playing cards and a handful of clerks by the far wall dealing with what seemed like a veritable mountain of paperwork. The guards leading them indicated a wooden door to their left; behind that, in what seemed like his personal office, a tall dark-haired Dunmer in bonemold armor was pacing back and forth.

 

They shuffled inside, all quiet, as his red eyes pierced them. Mathyn was by no means ashamed of being here, as he had done nothing, but he had to say that was one uncomfortable glare they were greeted with.

 

"Well? What is it?" the presumable commander of the guard asked, glancing across them and giving Mathyn a suspicious look as he noticed the House Redoran crest on his cloak.

 

"This outlander," one of the guards pushed Eponine forward, "is suspected of thievery. And she also assaulted one of ours."

 

"Well, I can't speak for the thievery, but 'assaulted' is not how I'd put it, personally---"

 

The commander's little beady red eyes, like two insects, peered at Mathyn. "And who in the name of Oblivion are you, Redoran?"

 

"I am Mathyn Llethri, Lord of Cormaris," he said, his voice sounding just a little bit sterner. He had experience of dealing with those who had developed false senses of authority, like highranking city guards, and there was little they feared or secretly hated more than a title. "And I have been brought here to testify."

 

The guard commander gave an exasperated sigh. This group was clearly not the first (or last) annoyance he had to deal with today. "Well then, go ahead, you lot. Start over from the beginning. What happened?"

Edited May 27, 2015 by Albannach

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

"Well, I was accused of being a thief. I tried to tell the guard I wasn't, that there are a lot of Bretons, Nords and Imperials who look like me, but then he grabbed me. I was worried, so I defended myself. Is that not my gods-given right?"

 

Eponine looked at Mathyn, feeling rather confident. "Okay, Lord of Cormaris. Do your stuff."

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Barracks, Narsis)

Mathyn was about to open his mouth, but the guard commander shook his head. "No, this isn't how we do things in Morrowind, Breton. I'm the one asking for testimonies here, not you. And judging by how you're peculiarly insistent on this Redoran sod testifying for you, you've got a weighted interest in him doing just that. Which is precisely why I'm not going to ask him. At least just yet."

 

The guard scanned the room, his glance eventually landing on Kelh. "You! Bosmer. What's your relation to these two?"
 

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

Uh-oh.

 

Oh, that's not good. I can trust Mathyn, but Kelh... I've not had too much great experience with Bosmer, so... Uh-oh.

[Ghosthands]

OOC: Poor Kelh. He's got no idea what happens to people who give a bad testimony for Eponine.

 

OOC:

 

 

 

 

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - Barracks]

 

"Simply put?" I responded. "Nothing. I known 'Is Lordship for less than an hour, and Miss Faircroft even less. The two of us—"

 

I indicated Mathyn.

 

"—were sharing a drink at the Guar, when she tried to strike up a conversation with us. That was when these fine officers of the law arrived, and then..."

 

I grinned.

 

"...well, that's why we're all here, isn't it?"

[IcarusBen]

 

OOC: Poor Kelh. He's got no idea what happens to people who give a bad testimony for Eponine.

 

OOC:

 

 

 

 

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - Barracks]

 

"Simply put?" I responded. "Nothing. I known 'Is Lordship for less than an hour, and Miss Faircroft even less. The two of us—"

 

I indicated Mathyn.

 

"—were sharing a drink at the Guar, when she tried to strike up a conversation with us. That was when these fine officers of the law arrived, and then..."

 

I grinned.

 

"...well, that's why we're all here, isn't it?"

 

OOC:

 

 

 

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

Oh... oh my, that could've gone bad.

 

"Thanks, Aspen."

Edited May 27, 2015 by IcarusBen

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Barracks, Narsis)

 

The guard commander gave another exasperated sigh. Mathyn could see that he wanted this over with. "This tells me nothing. Lance-Corporal Llaros!" he addressed the guard that had brought them in, provoking an almost reflexive salute. "What's this outlander accused of to begin with, that you saw so fit to bother my wonderful day with?"

 

"Thievery, sir!"

 

"Ain't good a thing, that!" the commander mumbled, pacing back and forth. "What did she steal? Priceless jewels? Dwemer artifacts? Raw ebony? The relics of St. Rilms?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"Military secrets, then? Spying for the Redoran, maybe?" he gave Mathyn a nasty glare.

 

"No, sir. She, uh, stole some fruit off a vendor."

 

The quiet that fell upon the room stayed unviolated for a good minute, until finally the captain chuckled. And then the dam burst: the chuckle turned to a laugh, and the laugh turned into a wild guffaw, and then suddenly it was cut short: the commander, almost unnaturally, froze in the middle of his laugh, and gave the lance-corporal a murderous glare. "You got in here, causing a commotion as if society itself had collapsed, over some fruit? Don't you have even the slightest amount of initiative and social responsibility, soldier?"

 

Mathyn couldn't help but feel amused by this whole spectacle.

 

"You," the guard commander pointed at Eponine, "I'm giving you a minute to think. Either you pay a fine - not much, just twice the value of what you stole - or I toss you into our dungeon. And then you're going to do community work. Because that's how the law works. And," he interrupted both her and Mathyn as they were about to open their mouths, "don't you give me tales about how you're innocent. If you're innocent, I'm sure we can bring the vendor you stole from in and ask him to say if it's you. I'm sure you won't mind, eh?"

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

 

"Ugh." Due process my sweet patooie. Eponine pulled out a coin purse and began counting. "Let's see.... Here. Six drakes. Bloody system's rigged against me, anyways. Haven't seen law enforcement this ineffective since the Imperials back in Aldshire."

 

"Come on, guys," Eponine indicated to "Aspen" and Mathyn. "Let's get going. I need a drink."

 

OOC: It was actually a loaf of bread, just to add to the walking LesMis reference that is Eponine Faircroft.

[The UltimoScorp]

IC:

 

"You aren't honestly outright insulting the lawmen of the city to their commander, are you?"

 

The voice came from the corner of the room. The Argonian had a bemused expression on his face.

 

"You're not long for this world if you keep that up here, Breton."

[Razgriz]

IC:

The half-cloaked Nord strode up to the gates of Narsis without incident, thankfully enough. Fresh Blood on the sword and also leaking out of him wouldn't have been a good look.

It would also get really sticky and rank as he waited in the small line of traders that had formed outside, declaring their goods and such.

Didn't want that.

[IcarusBen]

IC:

 

"You aren't honestly outright insulting the lawmen of the city to their commander, are you?"

 

The voice came from the corner of the room. The Argonian had a bemused expression on his face.

 

"You're not long for this world if you keep that up here, Breton."

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

"If they can't handle a little burn," Eponine replied, "then maybe they shouldn't stand so close to the fire."

 

Eponine had a puzzled expression on her face. "And, by the way, what's it to you? Last I checked, you're just a nosy Argonian. What business do you have chasing around a no-name Breton like myself?"

[The UltimoScorp]

IC: the Argonian smiled a knowing smile.

 

"No one of consequence. Not to an outlander such as yourself, anyway."

 

He shrugged, and the cloak parted, revealing the onyx coloured armor beneath.

 

"Around here, though, I'm more well known as the Argonian retainer. My name, sera, is Bites-His-Tail."

[Nato G]

IC: Anguis Nathair - Narsis Streets. 

 

Finishing her meal, she headed outside, deciding to have a look over the wares of the vendors out in the streets. 

[IcarusBen]

IC: the Argonian smiled a knowing smile.

 

"No one of consequence. Not to an outlander such as yourself, anyway."

 

He shrugged, and the cloak parted, revealing the onyx coloured armor beneath.

 

"Around here, though, I'm more well known as the Argonian retainer. My name, sera, is Bites-His-Tail."

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

 

"My name, serjo, is Eponine. Eponine Faircroft, though I'm known back home as 'Doesn't-Like-Being-Followed.'"

[Ghosthands]

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks]

 

"Ugh." Due process my sweet patooie. Eponine pulled out a coin purse and began counting. "Let's see.... Here. Six drakes. Bloody system's rigged against me, anyways. Haven't seen law enforcement this ineffective since the Imperials back in Aldshire."

 

"Come on, guys," Eponine indicated to "Aspen" and Mathyn. "Let's get going. I need a drink."

 

OOC: It was actually a loaf of bread, just to add to the walking LesMis reference that is Eponine Faircroft.

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - Barracks]

 

A long, loud snort was heard from my direction.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Barracks, Narsis)

 

"Lads, lasses, that's quite enough," the Lord of Cormaris spoke, calmly. "I, for one, feel that we have bothered the good mer of the Narsis city guard for long enough," he said, giving the commander a nod. "Let's move - we'll have a time and place to argue outside."

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - Barracks/Street]

 

"Fine," Eponine added just before she left the building, "But one more thing. Keep doing that whole 'lizardman-stalking' thing you do, and we'll have a serious problem. Got it?"

 

OOC: I don't think Eponine cares too much for Argonians. Khajiit, she's fine with. It's Argonians that tick her off. Either that, or she's Danish and doesn't understand racism.

[The UltimoScorp]

IC:

 

He laughed.

 

"Ah, outlanders. Always so ignorant of different cultures. Good to see some things in this world never change."

 

He became more serious.

 

"Perhaps you would be wise to refrain being so forthcoming about your criminal past, much less any ties with the Brotherhood."

 

A long pause.

 

"Brother, captain. I bid you both good day."

 

He turned and disappeared into the street.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis)

 

Mathyn cracked a slight smile. "Good day to you too, House-brother."

 

Moments later, he, Eponine and Kelh found themselves in the Lucky Guar once more, ordering another serving of Dunmeri drinks; this time, local shein. "This, my outlander friends, is a Dunmeri wine made from comberries. Just the thing on this sort of day. And some netch jelly and Cyrodiilic cheese to go with it," he ordered from the bartender, clearly intending to spend a fair bit today. "How interesting. So few minutes spent in Narsis, and already so many fascinating things have occured. It's truly... something, this Hlaalu city."

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

"Eh," Eponine tasted the cheese and spoke, "I honestly prefer Aldshire. We're the largest exporter of cheese on the Iliac Bay, if you didn't know. Wine's pretty good, though. Whaddya call it... shein? And netch jelly definitely tastes... not sure how to describe it, but it's good."

 

Eponine later had it dawn on her about the fascinating things happening in Narsis.

 

"I wouldn't call having to drag yourself to the barracks and not testify a 'fascinating thing,' but to each his own."

 

Eponine ate some more jelly and then spoke once more.

 

"So... this Bites-His-Tail... he's your friend?"

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

 

The Dunmer nobleman grinned. "Not per-se. I know him slightly. He's a retainer to one of Great House Redoran's higher-ups. We're a close-knit family, this House of ours."

[IcarusBen]

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

 

The Dunmer nobleman grinned. "Not per-se. I know him slightly. He's a retainer to one of Great House Redoran's higher-ups. We're a close-knit family, this House of ours."

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

"So, not only is he an annoying ######, but he's an annoying ###### with serious connections? Great. Just... great."

[Wade.]

IC:

 

Somewhere in Narsis, the distinct aroma of Horker and ash yam stew wafted in the air. A light breeze carried its scent for blocks, turning the noses of all that had a weak spot for garlic or that had yet to have a good meal. Those that listened to their stomachs formed a line outside a peculiar tent, one with a big bonfire, a big pot over it and an even bigger Argonian stirring its delicious contents.

 

Few had ever seen a specimen of his sheer size before, a massive beast even by his species' standards, and if the stew wasn’t getting anyone’s attention, he certainly was. He never gave the part collective, part xenophobic gaze he’d amassed any acknowledgement, and he only made eye contact whenever he exchanged a steaming bowl of food for a handful of coins. No one really knew who this titan was or why he refused to speak, but as far as anyone was concerned, he made the best darn stew on this side of Tamriel.

 

And he was making a fortune selling it.

 

He almost smiled to himself. How odd, he thought to himself, that not too long ago he ravaged this city as the Argonian berserker with too many names, and here he was now, serving grub to the locals who simply knew him as ‘Blue’. Granted, he hated most of them as much as they hated most of his kind, but cooking had always been therapeutic for him, the one true crutch that kept him going whenever he needed an escape.

 

It was also the only thing currently putting money in his pockets, so he wasn't complaining.

 

OOC: Blue open for interaction

[Nato G]

IC: Anguis Nathair - Narsis Streets.

 

"Ooh, that one's nice," she commented, picking up a particularly ornate amulet and turning to the vendor. "Can I try it on?" The vendor nodded, holding up a mirror for Anguis to get a better look. She pulled back her hair out of the way, then frowned, spotting someone behind her in the mirror's reflection. An ugly-looking Orsimer, and he seemed to be staring right at her.... no, he was looking at her scar. Oh no...

 

"You planning to steal from these people as well, wretch?" the Orc spat, spinning her around to face him, before ripping the amulet from her neck and handing it back to its owner. "The people I work for don't take kindly to thievery...." 

 

"This is all a misunderstanding. I still have the loot," she offered, "I can give it back to you, and we could forget this ever happened." She started to back away, trying to edge around the Orc to get back out into the open. The last thing she wanted to do was let herself be cornered. How did they find me so fast? 

 

"Nice try," he drew a jagged dagger from his belt, "You don't just rob the Camonna Tong and walk away. An example needs to be made...." 

 

"Not today," she smiled grimly, focusing her telekinesis on one of the stall's ornaments and sending it flying towards the Orc's ugly face. It wasn't carrying much force behind it, but it still took him by surprise, and that moment of distraction was all she needed to make her escape. Ducking around the Orc, she ran out onto the street, pulling her hood up to cover her face and trying to put some distance between herself and her assailant. 

 

Where there was one thug, there was sure to be more. She wasn't safe here.... 

[The UltimoScorp]

IC:

 

The hooded Argonian retainer was bumped into by another hooded being.

 

Stumbling aside, he hissed, "do watch your step..."

[Nato G]

IC: Anguis Nathair - Narsis Streets. 

 

"Oh... I....," she stammered, looking past the Argonian towards where the Orc still stood, no doubt trying to figure out which direction she'd gone in, "....sorry." She hurried on down the street. 

[Ghosthands]

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

I munched my way through yet another slice of cheese liberally smeared with Netch Jelly.

 

"Mmph, I coul' ea' 'is shtuff all day," I remarked approvingly, my voice muffled by food and punctuated by chewing. I washed it down with a good swig of shein, licked the stray globs of jelly off my fingers, then dragged my attention away from the snacks to focus on the conversation.

 

"So, not only is he an annoying ######, but he's an annoying ###### with serious connections? Great. Just... great."

 

"Not much of a people person, are you?" I observed with a smirk.

[IcarusBen]

IC (Kelh) [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

I munched my way through yet another slice of cheese liberally smeared with Netch Jelly.

 

"Mmph, I coul' ea' 'is shtuff all day," I remarked approvingly, my voice muffled by food and punctuated by chewing. I washed it down with a good swig of shein, licked the stray globs of jelly off my fingers, then dragged my attention away from the snacks to focus on the conversation.

 

"So, not only is he an annoying ######, but he's an annoying ###### with serious connections? Great. Just... great."

 

"Not much of a people person, are you?" I observed with a smirk.

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

"Never really was the 'sociable' type. I've often been told that I have a piece of wood lodged up my backside, but I don't really give a Skeever's hairy behind if they don't like me. I don't like them, either."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Dorian was a city boy. He'd spent most of his life in Cyrodiil and had a friend who "has family in High Rock, they can help us--" so, needless to say, Firewatch had a sort of homegrown appeal to it. It was too bad, then, that outside Firewatch's walls lay probably the most destitute, bombed out ruin of a country that he'd ever had the misfortune to wind up in. The books had all talked of the proud Chimer, cast down to become Dunmer after the fall of Needle...Narsis...Number Wunmer Dunmer, and a massive province of beautiful, rolling landscapes and ancient ruins as far as the eye could see in any direction.

 

No one had mentioned there was a volcano. Or a war. Especially not in the last couple years. Was a little breeze sent his way gonna kill the Tribunal? No, but the Nerevarine just might! A HA HA HA HA!

 

Whatever that meant. One of the Legionnaires had told him that joke.

 

Anyway, like he was thinking, it was too bad that Firewatch was a lone island of cosmopolitan bliss in a sea of ash and scorched earth, because Dorian could feel the golden jaws of fate beginning to clamp shut around his chest. Valerius was finally making a case against him; someone was finally impressing upon him that one Legionnaire didn't really make all the difference if the Hlaalu's negotiations in Narsis failed. Whatever that meant. He was perfectly content to sit back with a bottle of some Dunmer - good and strong, the Dark Elves called it, which to an Imperial translated roughly to wow I feel like Martin Septim GEDDIT BECAUSE I'M BREATHING FIRE - and contemplate whether he should stop by the clinic tonight and try to pick up the head doctor.

 

It was, of course, a real dilemma.

 

-Tyler

[The UltimoScorp]

IC:

 

He followed her gaze to the rather unruly Orc.

 

"Are you in danger, Dunmer?"

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Elianne. Firewatch)

 

On some particular days, Elianne hated her job, truly more than anything.

 

Oh, she didn't mind the description of the job itself. It was quite like hunting, really. Very exhilarating. You had to identify your prey, track it, learn its habits and its habitat, eliminate it. That she enjoyed. Killing in the Webspinner's name... she enjoyed, as disturbing as it was to admit that. Well, "enjoyed" might not have been the right word - it was more like she felt enjoyment right until the last minute, when she saw her soon-to-be-victim's face, when it was replaced with a calm, cold serenity. It was not Elianne, and definitely not Manirai, who would take a man's life, not the personality she embodied - it was the blade, the blade of the Morag Tong, the tooth of Mephala, the promise of their ancient tradition, that would eliminate yet another soul from the world. Usually ones that deserved it.

 

But she did hate some places her job took her, and some roles she had to play. Above all else, she hated the fortress-city of Firewatch, its grey Cyrodiilic stone, which reminded her of the forts the Imperial occupiers of days long past would build in her beloved Vvardenfell those many years ago; and she really, really

 

really

 

hated having to pose as a servant girl.

 

Dressed in a simple gown, hair kept tied within a shawl, carrying an armful of chopped firewood, Elianne scurried through the city's mostly empty streets, the eerie quiet interrupted only occasionally, when she would go past a group of Hlaalu soldiers, who would be usually drinking, or a couple of aging legionnaires here and there practicing their swordfighting skills. Then and now some cry would also be heard from atop the city walls, probably some of the Imperial archers patrolling the crenelations letting each other know how things were going up on their side of the wall.

 

Of course, serving girls were now in huge demand in Firewatch, seeing as how the city had essentially been abandoned by its civilian population and relied on difficult-to-provide Hlaalu support and the occasional tax raid into the surrounding Dunmer villages. You'd think that servants would thus be valued more than ever, especially the few still willing to remain in this increasingly infeasible experiment of Valerius's. In a sense, they were, mind you. But not because of the "serving" part.

 

Serving girls were in especially high demand because the number of women was, with every passing day, growing rapidly lower. And it showed. Even the most decent legionnaires gradually, day by day, turned into lecherous perverts who would leer at Elianne's body more and more irritatingly as a deep, deep forced dry spell settled over the city's population. The Hlaalu generally kept their cool in this regard, but that was only because all they seemed to care about was drink.

 

Simpler assassins might have thought to use this to their advantage. Mephala, after all, was among other things the goddess of sex - if that did not make it a potent tool in the Webspinner's arsenal, Elianne knew not what did. But the issue was that Elianne could not lower herself to the level of these scum; it was a certain Ashlander pride, burned into her bones, that objected to such a proposition with her very being. No, perhaps she would have to work harder because of this pride, which her teachers in Mournhold called both her worst and best quality, but she would not settle for such a moral suicide to achieve her goal.

 

She walked up the steps to the castle, a circular Imperial building atop a hill in the very heart of the colonial city. The guards nodded as she passed them, heading towards the kitchens, where she had employed herself as a cover.

 

(Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

 

"That's not an especially healthy attitude, there," Mathyn said to Eponine, shaking his head. "Generally you'll find that people are much more receptive to a much more nuanced approach than one which they would describe as 'having a stick up your arse'."

[IcarusBen]

IC Eponine [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

"Nuance has never been my strong suit."

[Not Quite Dead]

IC:

Narsis was four or five days present tense by now. Our hero had decided to leave the city after several weeks of just about nothing. Or, well, nothing related to him. His trades were already more than accounted for in the city. The various artifacts, resources and junk he had gathered from the the ruins and game throughout the countryside already accounted for on the conceptual scale of supply and demand. Really, the ###### thing was about to tip over at this point. Could just be people didn't have the money for such trifling trinkets. They probably had more important things to buy, like food.

 

His own meal was one particularly large example rattus norvegicus, as it had been for the two or three days since he'd left Narsis and would likely continue to be. Yesterday, his first day out of the city he'd considered poaching. Perhaps stealing from one of the farms dotting the landscape. The farmer's propensity towards carrying weapons had made him think twice about such an act, lest he end up strung up, a lynchee in some tree. He'd spotted those more than a few times in his travels. On his third time round considering poaching or theft he'd decided he wasn't the type to do so anyways. Better to starve as a chaotic good ranger than to steal from such hard working subsistence farmers, right? He could quite easily be in their shoes on fourth consideration so stealing from them might as well be as good as stealing for himself he wasn't the kind to dwell particularly much on the philosophical side of things Akatosh knows he was sadly lacking in the literature department both in his childhood as his father had been never one to stock such material and in his current life as books were heavy inedible and usually touchy to maintain if they were of any worth quite often being old and crumbly if they were rare enough to be worth their weight in food.

 

When he'd left Narsis this morning, he'd been undecided as to where to head out for. His home town of Blacklight was the recommendation of one of the guards he'd befriended during his stay in Narsis. Always good to visit home, eh? He'd said. You had replied quite simply that there wasn't likely to be much of anything for you back there. My mother and sister were poorer and worse on their luck than I.

 

The dunmer had been quiet and thoughtful for a moment, observing his wares and scrutinizing the ground. Firewatch? He petitioned. Something about the name had resonated with him, he hadn't been to the great Imperial seat of power and prosperity, the grand throne of man in this land of mer for many years, not such he'd visited it with his family as a child, when he had had a whole family. Yeah, I had mused. It'd be nice to go there. Divines knows those Imperials were sticks in the mud, trinkets from outside, especially from this far south were probably worth a pretty penny to them!

 

Smiling and clearly happy to have been some help, the guard bid me adieu. I replied with the land's traditional farewell and set off for Firewatch.

 

The walls of said city were bright and lit up before me, it was dusk and I was sitting down to that dinner of native vermin I'd mentioned earlier, cracking some branches into sticks and sticks into twigs and kindling, watching my own fire grow hot enough to properly cook the animal. This close to such a bastion of supposed military might, I felt safe enough camping for the night. After my meal, I kicked out the fire, disposed of any bones and bits in some bushes some twenty meters hence and found a nice tree to climb in to. I was pretty handy with Alteration, particularly the arts of levitation, so getting up into a nice safe bramble of branches a good ten meters off the ground was easy enough. Having the height advantage was always a good way to stay safe.

 

"Well, that's enough writing for now."

 

I closed my journal and tucked it into my satchel, musing to myself that I really needed to work on narrative continuity... Ah, t'was a matter for the morrow.

Edited May 28, 2015 by Kaneo Takarada

[Nato G]

IC:

 

He followed her gaze to the rather unruly Orc.

 

"Are you in danger, Dunmer?"

 

IC: Anguis Nathair - Narsis Streets. 

 

"Nothing you need to worry about," she said, perhaps a little too quickly, "I should get going...." 

[The UltimoScorp]

IC:

 

He grinned.

 

"No need to worry, get behind me, I'm Redoran. Bites-His-Tail, house retainer at your service. Your name, Miss Dunmer?"

 

He moved to block the Orc's view of her.