PLEASE LOCK

[dudevinci]

tags;; n/a - feeling;; happy - riften streets - armed/unarmed

Grinning, with the circlet in her pocket, she set off to go back to the Ragged Flagon. As usual, her fishing job was successful, and she wanted to get back to Delvin as soon as possible. Her hood was pulled back, and she was walking on the streets, past the keep, then to the temple, which had a graveyard nearby. Slipping inside, she went to the coffin in there, and pressed the button. It slid open, with the sound of stone grinding against the like. The opening revealed stairs, which she went down swiftly, and then at the end, she pulled the chain, making the coffin close again. Didn't want the secret entrance to be found, right? She opened the trapdoor, and jumped in, landing at the cistern entrance. She went through the cistern, waving at some of the members, and then went to the Ragged Flagon. She went to Delvin, straight away, handed him the circlet, and then with his pleased exclamation, she received a pouch of gold. Then she went back to Riften, roaming the streets.

[Kveykva]

Xaliphax - Whiterun Stables - Tagged: Yay friens Eren and Runa
The stable was achingly quiet. Xaliphax disliked the stillness of building, and he disliked his company even more. All the other horses spoke sour and kept their distances as though the stallion spat acid. Xaliphax did not concern himself which such things, and mused to himself instead. His purpose had yet to be revealed to this world, but the ivory stallion was a creature of patience; he would wait until the day came, and for now he would serve the one known as Celenr. A rush of excited cries caused the white stallion to fold his ears back against his head. An elf-creature and a curious cat-beast approached the stable, their steed neighing in relief. He fought the urge to nip the other horse and instead flicked his tail angrily. blinking flies out of his eyes. The elf-creature seemed to be wary of Xaliphax, like most other beings. The cat-beast, however, greeted the white horse kindly. He responded by huffing into her furred hand, raking a hoof on the ground. He appreciated kindness.

[uncommon]

Ravager - M - 223 (appears to be: mid thirties) - Bosmer/Vampire - Road - Tags: Hanzar
The lizard's words didn't phase him much. He listened, but it wasn't his primary focus. As soon as the argonian finished talking, he slunk behind the closest home. His mind was even faster than his eyes as he slid through the grass, transferring cover. This was the best part of being a vampire. His assassin training mingled well with the eerie darkness he had inherited long ago. All in all, it made him as a transparent looking as a ghost. His thin, barely visible form seemed insignificant compared to the daily lives of Dragonbridge residents. He found his way behind the nearby guard barracks, which is where the horses were located. They had stored mounts out behind the barracks since an important Imperial general was currently in the area. His name had slipped Ravager's mind, but it didn't matter.

A brilliant looking pair of steeds stood behind the building. They both held great stature, and were obviously no commoner's pets. His hand wrapped gingerly around the reigns of both and he began to lead them, slowly, toward the edge of the wall. There, he stopped. The second they darted out of the area with the horses, the second they would be spotted. A volley of arrows would be their warm welcome as they rode away. He needed to position the steeds perfectly, so that they could make a quick, discreet escape. They needed as much time as they could get. He choose the nearest horse to him, which was a blackened stallion of which had subtle hints of white throughout his coat. He must have been an older horse, since his goat was beginning to grey a little.

[Kveykva]

Apocrypha - Firebird - Calcemo's Dwemer Museum - Tagged: Durak
Apocrypha found the silence... agonizing. She traditionally enjoyed quiet, but the eerie quiet broken only by flashes of steam and distantly thudding metal made her uneasy. She dislike both Dwemer and their culture; they were too self reliant on their machines and their Snow Elf slaves. It was a recipe for disaster as far as she was concerned. Durak spoke little as they ventured deeper into the laboratory, until they came across a volatile Dwemer contraption. The firebird squawked in irritation at being shooed from his shoulder, beating her wings to steady herself before the Orismer allowed her to return to her perch. Quite rude, Apocrypha kept a stony expression regardless. "You will be looking for a wall," The green avian answered. "A kind of half wall in the center of a room. On it is a detailed depiction of the Falmer language, and there will be many notes scattered around. Destroy the wall and take the notes, and destroy anything you cannot carry. Hermaeus Mora will pay you handsomely for everything you bring him." She added. And I shall retake my place at his side. It was her duty to serve, and the Daedra would most certainly welcome her back after masterminding such a feat.

[Lyneth]

Runa / F /Khajiit / Eren & Xaliphax

Seeing the stallion react... postitively, Runa took that as a sign he was ok to touch, and raised her to hand to pet his muzzle. She didn't have much experience with horses so hopefully she was interpreting this right. Glancing at Eren, she saw that he was already mounted and eager to leave, watching the horse and Runa with a close eye.

Eren half smiled, clearly a bit bothered that she was so close to the horse.

"What? You're not jealous, are you?" Runa grinned teasingly.

He couldn't not smirk at that. Rubbing his brow, he replied, "No, but we really should get moving." It was unlikely that this particular steed was anything daedric, but he would rather Runa not be so close to a horse that didn't belong to them.

"Fine, fine." She shuffled over to Eren and let him take her hand to help her up. Once seated, she gave a playful wave to the white stallion before riding off.


Velona Callanian / F / Imperial / ya boy Tervthan

Stepping down the cold prison stairs, Velona raised a hand to trace her fingers along the aged walls. What a wonderful feeling, being free woman. The one and only thing she liked about prisons. Being able to leave.
She was very out of character for this setting, and despite carrying swords at either side of her hip she walked like a noble. Velona enjoyed flaunting herself. And setting foot in a prison reassured just how powerful thought she was. But she didn't just come for an ego boost. No, that wasn't worth being in such a filthy place. Whenever she stepped inside a jail it was for the same reason. To bail someone out.
Sauntering around the little jail's 'circle', she didn't see any new prisoners that weren't part of the common rabble. Wait a moment. Just ahead she saw a dunmer man who looked promising. "Excuse me, sir," Velona sashayed over to his cell before lightly gripping the bars. Leaning in close she asked, "Mind if I ask what you are in here for?" Her lips curved in a twinge of a friendly smile, and though her eyes seemed interested, her demeanor showed no form of pity. Little did he know, he could have been dying in the corner of his cell, or suffering excruciating pain and either way she would have treated him the same.

[vega.]

Ａ Ｌ Ｔ Ａ Ｖ Ｉ Ａ
seventeen - breton - location: Winterhold, College - tags: Nicholas

Altavia's nonchalant expression confessed a slight frown, the girl disagreeing with his statement, but finding enough truth in it to be unable to argue. She knew she most likely had a better chance at flourishing into a skillful mage with such opportunities at her fingertips, but if she wanted to be as good as her mother or her mother before her, she would've done so early on in the High Rock institutes.
"Well I don't think it would be a waste" She mused, keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. She had been lenient on her trust lately, perhaps because she had no one else to turn to, and against all the objections in her mind which told her not to trust, she wanted to. Of course, she couldn't forget the fact that he could summon a dragon to accompany him before her eyes. Only a day the incident on the roof and it felt like a dream that she had to keep assuring herself was real.
"Sure, I'll come. I have to give this to Phinis first, but besides that I've really got nothing else to do. I can meet you there?"
"That's fine, see you in a bit." She nodded after watching with a raised eyebrow as Nick nearly dropped the glowing sigil stone From what she did know, he definitely didn't act his age. Altavia left the room shortly after, holding the door against the wind as she let herself out into the courtyard and through the second gate into the dimly lit Hall of Elements. The place seemed more busy than usual, but nevertheless Tolfdir was standing with two other mages in front of the large magic well in the center of the Hall.
"Good day, Tolfdir!" She chirped, a facade diminishing hints of any discomfort from before.
"Ah, good day, Altavia, i'm sure you're finding life well in the College as of yet?"
"You know I am, I looked into the books you recommended me last night."
"That's good, you're well prepared. I like a student with motivation." He glanced at the other students who must've been joining her lesson, "Shall we begin then?"
They started simply with ward spells and, on the topic of defense, they practiced stronger armor spells. One of the mages didn't like the idea of fireballs being thrown at him point-blank, "but as long as his Stoneflesh held, there wouldn't be a problem", the other teased. It was only when one of the visiting mages, a regard woman, approached them mid lesson did things get interesting.

Ｆ Ａ Ｏ Ｌ Ａ Ｎ
sixteen - nord - location: Whiterun - tags: Akadar

Faolan finished rubbing his eyes and gave a surprised half-smirk, "Well, when there's crazy things go on, you can bet the crazy people are coming too." He shrugged. He never paid attention to the myths, maybe remembering some from childhood, but perhaps now there was a reason to believe them. When a man uses a dragon shout to start a rebellion, it's becomes more realistic for everyone. The worst case scenario is irrationality and panicking. Good time for thieves he thought to himself. Faolan pulled up a chair to where he could conveniently speak and chuckled, "Saints, she's still alive?" He said, cocking his head to the side. Fralia seemed ancient to him at this point. He wondered if she would recognize him at all.
"I think if you're always cooped up in Whiterun you'll only ever run into travelers. People like me. We don't want to settle down, Akadar. And trust me, i've met those kind of girls (you are sixteen, fao), and they will probably leave you with the rest of Whiterun on their way somewhere else."
"I still can't believe you've been here all this time. If you really want to meet someone, go out there and look every once and a while," His blue green eyes shimmered with a hint of concern under his ruffled hair. He needed a cut, and a shave. No doubt his brother would make him once he noticed. He stroked the slight stubbled on his jaw thoughtfully.

Ｃ Ｅ Ｌ Ｅ Ｎ Ｒ
twenty nine - breton - location: Whiterun - tags: Xaliphax

Celenr walked out the gate of Whiterun, carrying a small sack over his shoulder. His arm was set and slung and his wounds treated. They still stung from the medicines used. With the slightest smile he caught himself thinking Altavia's work is better, and thought about speaking with her again. The first time had taken a toll on both of them, mainly her. He couldn't forget the look of distress on her face. Surely she got his package by now, a restless thing. She be wondering where it came from, and after he finished his work, she would soon figure it out.
It didn't surprise him how oblivious everyone was to this situation before them. He walked into Dragonsreach telling the Jarl what he wanted to hear, and he even introduced the breton to the court mage. There might be a nice reward, but it would take more than that do get Celenr stalking up the side of the mountain into some ruins. And last time he had anything to do wit the Grey beards, they kicked him out of their stronghold after a little hustle saying they refused to teach him any further. What's the point of power if they never used it? They would sit and watch the world be destroyed.
"Their call is not for me." Is all he said with a shake of his head. The jarl's staff seemed surprised, but they have their heads wrapped up in political matter to consider his reasons. Celenr shared his own advice on proper defense against dragons in the future, but he needn't get into all that business. All he had to do was listen and make sure it didn't get in his way.

Now he marched with aching muscles down the the stables, boots thudding against the cobble paved road past some khajit merchants. He saw his ephemeral companion swishing his tail in the stalls, and would take him our for a hack if he wasn't so injured. He may be a good horsemen, but even now he nearly fell off on his way to the hold. The relationship between them was more like a deal than anything else. He served the breton, but it was a mystery to Celenr why the horse had luckily chosen him. It couldn't be for his way around equines, but either way, they were on a similar level of cooperation. What he wanted was trust.
Now upon getting closer, two figures were by Xaliphax, a khajit and an Altmer, he noticed. They seemed to take interest in the horse, the khajit a bit more outgoing, but they left as soon as he arrived.
"Seems like you don't need me to have company." He greeted, taking the bag off his shoulder. The warned the stable hand that he would be taking his horse for a little while, and untied the rope on his halter from the stall after, painfully, untacking him. He appreciated the fact that Xaliphax's coat never seemed to get dirty.
"Come, Xaliphax." He beckoned with a light tug on the lead rope, taking the horse out into the open grass and releasing them from his halter. He hoped on a whim that it wouldn't simply run away, but every horse needed to be free once in a while. The bag he carried contained apples and carrots and rolled balls of oats. He wasn't sure was a strange horse like Xali liked, but, a horse was a horse. He offered half the fruit to Xaliphax now.

[General Hux]

Tervthan|Male|Dunmer|Castle Dour|Tags: Velona

"I'm here for apparently being a spy for the stormcloaks, how dumb is that? After my time here I've decided that the so called general, doesn't have a brain." He smiled at Velona "I take it you either slaughtered the guard or persuaded him to let you in or is it some sort of interrogation? Are you here to break the bad news that I'm about to be executed or something similar?" He stood and walked over to the door of his cell to get a better look at the woman that had entered the dungeon and she had probably entered the dungeon on her own accord as well. "Nice of you to come save me." He said as a joke.

[Kveykva]

Nicholas Storm - Male - 31 - Breton - College of Winterhold - Tagged: Cheerful Altavia and others
Nicholas nodded a farewell to Altavia but ended up following her out the door anyway. Their paths parted once they stepped into the chilled world of the College courtyard. Fat, fluffy flakes drifted lazily from the sky onto a layer of fresh powder, which Nicholas trudged through to reach the Hall of Countenance, realizing after he made it across that he could have just gone around under the overhang. Shrugging, he pushed open the door to find the living quarters a mirror image of the Hall that housed the apprentices. Phinis sat in a chair in his room, reading through a book belonging to the Conjuration school. Nicholas stood at the door patiently until the older mage looked up. "Oh, you've returned." The conjurer didn't sound pleased in the slightest, but Nick didn't seem to notice. "I've got your Sigil Stone right here, like you asked. And I didn't die, to that's a bonus." He said cheerily, presenting Phinis with the stone. The other managed a slight smirk before taking it. "No, this is your Sigil Stone. I just need to borrow it for a moment." The Breton conjurer kept the stone for only a few moments before returning it. "Now both of us should be able to sustain a conjured being indefinitely, so take this as a... reward for surviving." Phinis gave him a spell tome for Conjure Dread Thrall, which Nicholas tucked into his robes before exiting. He already new the spell, so he'd likely just sell the Orc librarian the tome or something. Nicholas headed across the snow a second time, tripping once before reaching the Hall of the Elements. Looks like the lesson just started, The Breton saw the others testing mage armor spells by casting fireballs at one another. Tolfdir spotted Nick come in and motioned that he join the group. Rather hesitantly, he stepped forward into the prying eyes of his peers, as well as an additional Redguard mage. "You aren't planning on using me for target practice, are you?" The necromancer asked.

[Kveykva]

Akadar Strong-Blade - Male - 26 - Nord - Whiterun - Tagged: Sneezy Faolan
"The one time I set foot out of Whiterun, I get attacked by a dragon," Akadar informed his younger brother. "I don't have a death wish. Everything I need is right here in Whiterun, and I don't need to throw it away by wandering aimlessly in the wastes of Skyrim." He would much rather uphold his family's tradition, but he was rubbish in the forge and couldn't even find a wife for himself. At least our father's not around to see me become a disappointment. He sighed, cutting free two pheasant breasts to cook over the spit. "Travelling may work well for you, Faolan, but I'm not that kind of free spirit. You remember when we went to Solitude to visit our uncle? I was miserable the entire time. You know how much I hate travel." Akadar fixed the spit over the fire, nodding for Faolan to keep an eye on the meat while he fixed the rest of the meal. He prepared the other components of their meal in silence, glancing behind at his brother. The Nord frowned. "When did you start growing facial hair? And when was the last time you shaved?" He'd never seen Faolan with any kind of stubble, and Akadar himself could hardly grow any sort of facial hair: yet another disappointment to his Nordic heritage.

[Lyneth]

Velona Callanian / F / Imperial / Tervthan

She ran her eyes over the dunmer as he spoke. Rather friendly, isn't he? Velona rested a hand on her hip. "I am assuming have been given a rough sentence then." The imperial dodged his questions, and got straight to the point. "I'm here to help," Velona began. Before continuing, she sighed lightly and ran her hand down the cell bar, feeling the cold metal. "That is, if you are who I'm looking for. Tell me, do you have any connections? To any factions or groups." A decent way of figuring it out without risking the man lying. He couldn't possibly know what she wanted to hear.
Velona was prepared to leave if he said anything that didn't include the Thieves Guild or Dark Brotherhood. Her time was precious. But if she was lucky, she'd be leaving here with more influence. It'd been awhile since she offered either faction anything. Freeing one of their brothers was usually pretty easy, but not something she could do too often. Normally she'd just pay off the bounty, but this man sounded like he'd be more difficult to release. Pursing her lips, she pondered the best solution.