Padishah Mehmet II

OOC: The following post has been declared "non-canon" and as such should not be read except for the fact that it's kinda funny and I hope the GMs consider using it, especially considering the canon lore that Dunmer in Morrowind tend to speak Dunmeris.

 

 

IC Guard [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

Kelh had worded his sentence rather well. Sadly, this;

 

 

was all the guard could hear.

 

"What in the name of Azura are you blabbering on about?" the guard said, in a local dialect of Dunmeris.

 

 

And here is the DB Assassin/Eponine post. Took a while, sorry Albannach.

 

IC Eponine/DB Assassin [Narsis - The Lucky Guar]

 

Oh, great. Two of them. I better be getting paid good tonight.

 

"Come on, Eppy! Can't even fight your own battles?!"

 

"Shut up, you son of a skeever."

 

"Ouch, burn."

 

The assassin took one good look at Mathyn, just to assess the situation. Mathyn didn't look like much, but if the Dunmer in the Brotherhood had anything to prove, it was that looks can be deceiving. That malachite longsword looked pretty flashy, though. A steel kopis was rather... insufficient.

 

Still, he had a job to do. He charged at Mathyn, first appearing to be heading to Mathyn's right, but hoping to catch Mathyn off-guard by juke-moving to Mathyn's left, and hopefully hitting him on Mathyn's left arm.

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

The trick might've worked, had Mathyn been intending to block. Instead, as the assassin approached, Mathyn calmly danced a step back and performed a masterful pirouette, turning counterclockwise and lunging at his attacker in a controlled, short arc towards his right, giving Eponine a perfect opportunity on the left.

OOC: oh just erase it, will you? instead replace it with a post by that dark brotherhood assassin NPC of yours, I'm waiting on that

And no, before anyone asks, OOC-only posts are the sole province of the GMs dealing out judgment and no one else

We should, tbh, in general write up a basic guide to NPCs to ascertain that they are neither misused nor maltreated.

Methinks I'll look into it.

-Dovydas

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

Mathyn took a long deep sigh. This was one peculiarly stupid assassin, to attack in broad daylight in a very public tavern dressed in Dark Brotherhood attire.

"Call the guards," he muttered to Kelh as he slowly stood, drawing his malachite sword from the sheath by his side as he moved carefully, trying to circle the Redguard and trap him between himself and Eponine. His stance was defensive: he didn't need to kill this man. Only hold him off from killing Eponine for long enough for the guards to flood this tavern. For the second time in a day, no less.

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

"Well, then you'll be right at home in Morrowind, muthsera," the Dunmer smiled at the Nord rather warmly, bowing his head just ever so slightly in welcome. "Wanderlust is something the entire land has got in spades. I'm Mathyn Llethri, by the way. At your service."

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

Mathyn's eyes flicked from Eponine to Kelh, observing as the latter spoke to the Nord. Observing the Nord's reaction even more so. Things were growing marginally more interesting with the introduction of every shiny new personality into this comically plot-relevant club.

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

"Oh, I figured that awhile ago," he said, indicating the barman to pour him some more shein. "Somehow I don't buy the concept of them just saying 'please come back' and doing little else. Granted, I also don't exactly buy the concept of them trying to make their way into Resdayn in such a time."

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar)

"Old friends?" the Dunmer asked Eponine, almost knowingly.

You guys actually touched on an interesting point regarding Nordic: it's certainly a separate language, as indicated by several words we know of, such as "thu'um" (which apparently isn't Draconic, no) but it's honestly unclear how much of it is still used.

My guess would be there's a situation as with modern Irish, where some basic knowledge of it is widespread among Skyrim's inhabitants, but few speak it in their everyday lives. Honestly, the only languages that seem to be completely healthy and unendangered seem to be the elven languages (excepting obviously dead cases such as Dwemeris or Ayleidoon), Ta'agra, Jel and Tamrielic; and maybe Orcish, but since that has such limited use (few people outside those tightly-knit communities of Orsinium and the outlying Orcish strongholds actually understand it) it's probably in a similar situation to Nordic, or maybe even like medieval Yiddish - spoken as a first tongue by nearly all Orcs, but alongside the language of wherever they live.

-Dovydas

Elías approved x1

Also, archaic or not, "believe you me" is correct and that's the end of it

Worst case scenario I could be using Irish English and any attempt to crack down on that is literally imperialism with a dash of potato famine

-Dovydas

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

Mathyn sighed.

"Outlanders."

(Elianne. Dorian's house, Firewatch)

"I'll contact you if I learn anything on how to get outside the city unnoticed, then. I'll expect you to do the same. You know where to find me. Kitchens, mostly."

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned Dorian's house, Firewatch)

"Knock yourself out. Just be sure to be careful. Legionnaires probably won't take kindly if they find out you've been squatting at an abandoned house without permission and meeting with some shady Dunmer maid, to boot."

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

She tossed her head back and took a look straight into the not-Legionnaire's eyes. "Firstly, of course, there's the matter of the number one current threat to your life, Imperial, being removed. So one might argue it's in your interest to help me to begin with. Secondly, my employer can get you an identity."

Pausing for emphasis, she continued. "You can try to find a way out of here yourself. But we both know your problems go beyond simple discharge, outlander. You don't get threatened with execution by being... too fun for a legionnaire, and you admitted that you aren't one to begin with. You faked an identity. Which leads me to one conclusion. You fled here, Dorian Doruani. And I don't know from what, but I know the sort of problems people who fake being a legionnaire had run into. Those problems aren't fine at all. So if you want to escape on your own and get tracked down and killed by whatever you're fleeing from, because an Imperial in Morrowind without papers isn't as usual a sight as you might think, feel free. But if you help me, I can help you leave this mess you're in."

Silence settled on the room for just a moment.

"And, of course, there's the seasoning."

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

Elianne shook her head as she leaned back, against the room's wall. "I haven't got an angle, Imperial. Chap'thil do not get sent to such locations to do such work in this country. I'm here at the bidding of someone else's angle, and that angle happens to be Valerius's death."

(Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

"Ohh, believe you me," Mathyn grinned, "our tournaments are not like those of the West. They have live weapons, for starters. Even if usually blunted. And that jousting thing you have in High Rock, that the Imperials so like to imitate? That one hasn't caught on."

I wouldn't think they have a specific main HQ; back in Vvardenfell, they didn't have such a place, and operated without one. My presumption would be that a similar system exists on the mainland, with operatives contacting each other and cooperating with each other without a central main base, but favouring certain cornerclubs and such as meeting places.

-Dovydas

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

She nodded, slowly. "Then we can indeed help each other. I need to get my... tools of the trade into the city. And I am virtually certain there's a way getting past the walls; there's always a postern gate, or, worst case scenario, a sewer leak in these Imperial cities."

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

Elianne tilted her head inquisitively.

Just in case this not-Legionnaire was going to rat her out, her hand clenched around her dagger, at the same time preparing to cast Invisibility. Just in case.

IC: (Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

This was working out better and better. Elianne scratched her chin, thinking of a better way to turn this to her advantage. "Let me ask you a very theoretical question, not-Legionnaire. Would you say that it is in your interests that Valerius would just, and this is purely theoretical... disappear?"

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

Mathyn lamented the Breton's untimely passing already.

(Elianne. Abandoned house, Firewatch)

Elianne raised an eyebrow. "What?" she said, confusion written on her face. "No, we're here to talk about the hash you asked for. Why would I give you a house that doesn't even belong--- actually, never mind, I don't even want to think about it."

She glanced out the window. Street seemed empty enough, not that it was any surprise. "I can get you what you need. But you're going to have to find me a way out the city unnoticed. Contrary to popular belief in the Empire, you cannot smuggle anything just past the guards."

IC: (Elianne. Firewatch)

It was an hour later that Elianne made her way, carefully, unwilling to draw attention, to the empty house on Castle Street, once Firewatch's main artery and now the sole artery. You could distinguish the house from afar, as the Hlaalu retainers seemed to be throwing a party in the place right next door, whereas this building seemed peculiarly quiet.

Slipping quietly through the open back door of this once-modern Western manor, she glanced behind herself to see if anyone was following her. Having confirmed the absence of such individuals, she made her way to what was until recently the living room, now just an empty chamber devoid of life or furniture (all unused furniture in the city having been sold for money or burned as fuel to finance the continued existence of Firewatch in such an unsightly and unfriendly vicinity). Just in case Dorian would prove more principled than she thought - or worse, even less - she brought along a knife. And now, well, she waited.

(Mathyn Llethri. The Lucky Guar, Narsis)

"Bthanual's a dark place, that is," the Dunmeri nobleman said, his expression nondescript, stuck somewhere between a smile and a frown. "They say a curse lies upon those ancient halls. The Dwemer, they say, dug deep and greedily and unleashed many horrors that slumbered below. Servants of Molag Bal and of Mehrunes Dagon, full of the malicious intent of their masters. Few still dare venture inside, and few expeditions survive."

Can you add a section just saying "Magical Abilities: N/A", assuming you indeed don't intend to have magical abilities? Just to alleviate potential confusion, nothing else. Other than that, sounds good to me

-Dovydas

IC: (Elianne. Castle Kitchens, Firewatch)

She barely withheld herself from raising an eyebrow. Dorian's enthusiastic reaction surprised her just a little bit, she had to say. After all, if the discharged legionnaire had proven to have just a little bit of suspicion in him, this would not have worked out so well for her. Unfortunately, it was at this precise moment that the legion's chef (a more correct term would be 'mass poisoner', mind you) walked into the kitchen, throwing a suspicious glance at Dorian.

Elianne, however, knew how to play this just right. Swaying her hips, a sensuous smile appeared on her face as she leaned in, conspiratorially, and whispered in Dorian's ear, with the explicit intention, seemingly successful, that the chef would misinterpret this. "I get off in one hour. The abandoned house on Castle Street. You'll know it when you see it; all the other houses are filled with Hlaalu and... or Gold Legion. Don't keep me waiting."

"Elianne! Stop fraternizing with the troops on the job!" her boss growled. Smiling, she knew her trick worked as she went back to making that disgusting gumbo the soldiers took for food.

IC: (Elianne. Castle Kitchens, Firewatch)

"Let's just say I'm the person who can get you what you need. But I'm going to need just a slight amount of help."

IC: (Mathyn Llethri. Narsis)

"Let me give you some unasked-for advice, my outlander friend," Mathyn said, smiling. "First off, I have to congratulate you for picking a country to flee to just right. Our Thieves Guild is weak, the Dark Brotherhood is unwanted, and as for priests of Akatosh, you'll find that it's difficult to find any who still live. But your outlandishness will shine for some time yet. If you want that... highly specific skillset, as you put it, to come to use, you'll need to find a way to blend in. Get a job. A place to live. Get chummy with one of the Great Houses. The Morag Tong... they're a long path to walk, and even despite their legality and the honourable nature of their work it's not a convenient way to get started in this country, being tagged from the first moment as a threat to another's life. You need a cover."

(Elianne. Castle Kitchens, Firewatch)

Mentally, she sighed at what she was about to do. Physically, she grinned, and tossed aside a strand of her red hair.

"I know some people, though, if you know what I mean. Assuming you still... want some."

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

"Sounds like you sure ticked someone off back home."

IC: (Elianne. Castle Kitchens, Firewatch)

Ain't gonna lie, she thought to herself, this guy seems too young and undisfigured to be one of Valerius's indeed. Something about this story seems off, though. But... maybe he can be of use.

She sighed and, chopping the rat she had just skinned into geometrically equal parts, gave Dorian a surprising smile. "Understandable. Can't think of a single Legionnaire who ever seemed even remotely... fun, yeah. That would be the word. Or went to the castle kitchens looking for hash."