(OPEN)- Reaching Horizons

[Darth Meeb]

Live RP Posts:

Kilc:
Itan couldn't help but feel a certain sense of hatred. For a long while now,he'd lived under the impression that any argonian, be it citizen, thief or bandit, was on his side. They had never done him any harm thus far, not even in his long routes through the Marsh root system. This Argonian that came along, even the vampire it was, shattered this belief, tearing out the remnants of his trust in others.

RPwizard:
Walking through the town, Lars knew he wasn't exactly welcome with a war going on between them. he could feel their eyes on him, but he was't really worried, all he wanted to do is get a drink and to pass time. after all, he knew the sword wouldn't be done anytime soon. looking for a tavern sign, he saw one a little way down and went in. there he could feel he was even less welcome, with everyone taking one look and then turning away. he sat down into the nearest booth and sat back, he knew he would be served very quickly, if at all.

Kilc:
A certain sense of betrayal built up in him- It wasn't that he ever thought the vampire was on his side, but he'd had this stupid belief that their blood; the blood of the Hist, that connected and wound through them all since their first days, was some form of unspoken agreement of peace between two argonians. Clearly he was too inexperienced to realize otherwise. In a fit of rage, he tore at the remnants of dirt on his fins, frustrated with how impure the world was. Deciding it was best to finish the foul task before plotting to kill the vampire, he stalked off to think in the only other eatery in town- a ramshackle pub at the edge of Thorn

Meeb:
As Drayle and the other two argonians were conversing someone appeared from the shadows of the shop near them. Upon closer inspection Drayle realized it was the argonian man who had waylaid them before. The hooded man approached them and spoke, saying he knew of the guilds plans and that they better come with him. Cautiously Drayle followed along behind the other two as the myserious argonian lead them to a dark room in the back. He was quiet as the man gave them his demands, although internally he was becoming more and more annoyed. That this argonian had the gall to blackmail all three of them in such a way, especially when he was requesting they do such a ridiculous task annoyed Drayle to no end. Why he wanted blood? Well it was fairly obvious he was eather a necromancer or a vampire, both of which are typically frowned upon by society. Drayle had to guess he was one of these, albeit a stupid one. No rational vampire would force others to do his bidding and risk uncovering himself unless he was desperate. Drayle took the bottle the argonian gave him, staring intently at him with his ruby red eyes. Everything told him to reach out now and imolate the arrogant idiot right then and there, but when he looked to Itan something made him hold his hand. Although argonians had little in the way of facial expression Drayle could tell he too had guessed what this creature before them was. Perhaps he had a more subtle plan than Drayles. As the three left the smiths the necromancer/vampire argonian went to sit on a bench outside and the other three moved away into the night. As it was now getting quite late in the evening the crouds had dispersed somewhat, with only a few people wandering about the square. As they walked away Itan spoke to him quietly and told him he had a plan. Drayle nodded, responding quietly to Itan, "Very well I shall linger here and keep watch over this moronic swit. Just give me the word and I'll make him go up in flames." Drayle moved off in the opposite direction of Itan but stopped when he reached the edge of the square, just out of sight of the vampire. Continued moving about fifty feet out then stopped once he knew he was well out of the vampires blood detection range. Turning back around Drayle moved back towards the man, stumbling as if drunk. When he got almost to the square he stumbled to the side and slumped down in a doorframe, as if he had passed out. Looking back to where the vampire had been sitting he cast a spell quietly and a dull orangish glow appeared before his eyes.  Drayle lay in wait for the man, hoping he would spot him and come to feed. He drew his sword and lay it by his side as well as drew his dagger, readying it behind his back.

Kilc:
When Itan walked towards the tavern, he noticed that the frills on the back of the neck were standing up in agitation. To kill an evil man, even greater evils had to be done. There was no other way to purge this man then through utmost discretion, and to achieve this- two others had to be hurt. feeling the weight of the bottles stowed in his bag, He knew that soon they would have the additional weight of guilt stored within, the guilt of harming whomever was unlucky enough to be at the tavern. However, all that worry vanished when he caught sight of the man at the tavern- The imperial. Itan's eyes turned to slits with distrust, and his tail twitched as he stood on alert. Watching from the distance, he saw the man take a seat and wait to be served.

RPwizard:
settling into the bar Lars got to have a good look at the place, it was fairly simple, aranged as to easily walk around. some were conversing, others giving a look at him, but other than that it was calm. a few things could be heard, the war, plans for tomorow, and interstly enough, of a murder in another bar, it didn't concern him though. he saw the argonian he had seem in the blacksmith though, and he could tell he didn't look to happy to see him again, all he could do is smile at him and chuckle a little. he knew he was suspicius, but to give a face a pure distrust was funny to him.

Ahaark:
Ahaark felt the cool breeze of the night on his fins as he stepped out the front door of the blacksmith, He couln't help feeling acomplished with all of the stress he felt in the men's soals but one stood out in particular, Ahaark pulled an arrow out of the quiver and set it beside him as to ease his mind, "the dunmer, seems like he'd be a problem" he mumbled as he stood. "best to check on their progress" Just before he began to climb the blacksmith's building, he heard of what seemed to be a scuffle whiping around he saw one of the other argonian walking to the tavern and discetly followed.

Kilc:  
Itan didn't like how the man smiled at him- It was hateful, loathing. Like it belittled his every effort to keep the mission going, to keep the Pact from falling to the Imperials. Like it belittled him. When the man chuckled to himself, his eyes still locked on Itan as if he was humored by him, something within the Argonian snapped. His subconscious, the cold-blooded monster within, awoke. The last part of his logic, the thin shield that kept himself in check, was torn apart in rage. He would show this imperial that he wasn't scared of him. Snarling in animalistic fury, he pulled out a powder from his bag. It was fungal spores, straight from the heart of the Black Marsh. Painful when inhaled, it often caused respiratory arrest in any foolish enough to stand near such plants. Taking the powder out of his bag, he knew it'd be more than enough to wipe the smile off the imperial's face

Ahaark:
When Ahaark had reached one of the buildings beside the tavern that the argonian leader had walked into he became exited, was he going to massiveivly murder all inside, or perhaps walk into the washroom and slit the palms of his hands, with as much joy as he had when he lived with his uncle in elsywer ahaark jumped from the building and landed in the street just before the tavern, making no noice upon landing Ahaark siliently walked into the tavern and took a seat at a table with some other argonians who looked like migrants. he tossed a coin pouch at the table before they could force him to leave and pointed at itan with his chin "I'll be out of your scales in a moment gentelmen"

RPwizard:
lars could see the argonian had gotten even angrier and pulled out something from a bag, he could tell it was some sort of dust from the mini cloud it made near his hand. lars knew well enough that what ever it was, probaly was no good for him. so lars sat up and said " nobody has ever gotten anywere from nothing, we seem to have gotten off on a bad start, how about we talk over a drink, rather than throwing dust and faces" offering the seat across from him. he knew it would settle him by much, but it would be a start.

Meeb:  
Drayle followed the vampire all the way to a bar. He slipped through the door a few minutes after the argonian, his hood high over his face. Drayle slid to the side, keeping his eyes focused on the vampire he was tailing. He stood behind a group argonians playing some kind of card game in order to conceal his presence. At this distance there was no way the vampire would be able to recognize him through the crowd.

Ahaark:  
Ahaark watched Itan very carefully and saw him meet gazes with the imperial and take out a small bag of powder, Ahaark smiled at the fungal spores from his homeland and watched as the imperial began to speak " the agonian, "at least he's not enslaving him " Ahaark chuckled to the group as if they knew what was going on and was shot some filthy looks. He frowned at the lizards and continued watching intently.

Kilc:
" nobody has ever gotten anywere from nothing, we seem to have gotten off on a bad start, how about we talk over a drink, rather than throwing dust and faces" Itan, already shuddering with rage, could at first find no reason why he'd do that. He needed blood, and this irritating man was definitely a threat. What harm was there in killing him (And choking everyone in the process?) It could easily be solved by killing the rest of the survivors, couldn't it? (Setting the tavern on fire would have efficiently burned the living to bubbling chunks of bleeding flesh) And yet....slowly, rationality seeped into his animalistic state, and he began to see logic in the words. As the surge of anger clashed against his reasoning, he hesitated, unsure of what to do. Yet it seemed this was not the time he'd make the choice himself. A couple of Argonian town guards had walked into tavern. One of them went to question the imperial, who would obviously be a suspect. From where he stood, Itan could distinctly hear them questioning the imperial. "Do you know of what happened here, imperial? Would you mind coming in with us?" Worried of getting caught, he abadoned all notion of conflict and turned to flee. However, another pair of guards had appeared behind him, and he saw them gesturing and pointing at him, (who stuck out in the town with him foreign attire) Realizing that he was being surrounded, Itan did the only thing possible at that moment- Summoning the last remnants of anger within, he hurled the powder in the Guard's face, and attempted to dash away.

Ahaark:
Ahaark looked back up to itan and smelled the guards since they walked into the tavern, four of them, two went for an imperial sitting at the bar whom Ahaark had recongnised from the blacksmith. Two Guards came up from behind itan, Chuckling watching itan panic and throw powder in the guards face, he decided to make itan an escape window and leaned over to the argonian to the right of him "browny there's been stacking cards since i walked in" A fight exploded at the table and eventually the entire tavern looked like Cyrodiil in theese dark days, Ahaark looked itan in the eyes, nodded and left the tavern.

RPwizard:
Lars could see the argonian was thinking when he paused, but a moment later a couple guards came into to tavern, one of them turned to question him, asking "Do you know of what happened here, imperial? Would you mind coming in with us?" he could see the other argonian back off and turn to go but there were more guards behind him, and when they pointed to him being suspisius, he threw the powder in the guards face and went for the door. soon after a fight broke out at a seperate table so some go for the fight, while others are running around, the guards that were questioning him left him to help. guess i'm not getting a drink, so lars just got up to leave only to bump into the agonian, who quickly ran out.

Kilc:
Itan ran- As fast as he could, away from the tavern. He heard shouting, the scraping of chairs and the crash of tables. Turning around, he saw that a fight had started in the tavern. A card game had gone wrong, and he saw the players rise from their seats, their faces tinged with crimson, scarlet and....white? Staring back, he saw the vampire look directly at him from the seat at the table. (He'd been watching the whole time) Anger and shock flooded through him, causing his lips to curl with distaste and his speed to slow, his legs wanting to turn his body back and burn the vampire to a smoldering crisp. Yet despite having escaped most of the guards, he saw one of the two he'd assault rise from the floor, and stagger after him. Realizing he had no other way, Itan raced down a backalley in an attempt to lose the guard

Meeb:
Drayle was surpised to see the guards enter the bar, and as they looked around they spotted an Imperial at the bar, the same one Drayle had seen earlier at the blacksmiths. He also saw Itan sitting next to him holding some kind of bag. As the guards approached him Itan turned, hurling the sack at one of the argonians. It exploded in a cloud which made all those in the area cough violently. As this happened the vampire rose from the table he had been sitting at as a fight errupted. Itan ran out the side door as the vampire slipped ot of the main exit. Drayle frowned, growing tired of this increasingly dangerous and tedious game. The vampires mission would likely cause more attention than anything the creature could have said about them, so he decided it was time to confront the monster. He walked swiftly out of the tavern, blade in hand. He quickly spotted the vampire moving out into the night and called to him, "Hold!" As the argonian stopped to look around Drayle approached, pulling back his hood. "Stop right there, sera. I've come to return my bottle."

Kilc:  
Itan raced down the alley, but he could hear the guard close behind, his footsteps drawing ever closer as tail swished behind him in breakneck speed. He wound yet another wet and gloomy corner before...He met a dead end. The walls, slick with moss, loomed high on either side, providing no escape even for the most agile. Then the guard turned the corner, sword drawn. Itan realized that there was no way of getting out of this situation peacefully other than to surrender, and that would cause his Guild's presence in town to be known by the unwanted. The iron bars of jail would not stop Thane Soldin's assassins from coming to Thorn and shooting an arrow through their heads. He could see no other way but to attempt to distract the guard and flee. But alas, there was no such opportunity. The guard's blade swung down, and Itan, unprepared for the ferocity of the first strike, felt the blade tear through armor and scale, gouging a deep wound in his forearm. Hissing in searing agony, Itan's thoughts were blotted out by pain, and he retaliated out of instinct. His attack a reaction, Itan's own blade swung down with brute force, and caught upon the argonian's fins. The thin flap of skin was torn to shreds, and the fine network of capillaries let free a spurt of red. Itan, stunned, could only stare at his own hand, wondering what sort of madness had run through him.

Ahaark:
Ahaark was suprised by the voice of a dunmer calling out to him, stopping to turn he spotted the suspicious one from the blacksmith, "Hmm...return? the bottle? He questioned the elf, "I don't belive that was an option friend" but if returning it is what you wish to do..." he motioned to two guards at the end of the street "I could put a damper on those ASSASSINATION plans you had going" he said as he spoke louder, "but whats wrong, couldn' t find a victim, are you too royal to end one's life to keep living your own" Removing his hood ahaark looked into the elves eyes.

Meeb:
Drayle gave him a small smile, producing the empty bottle from the folds of his cloak. He held it in the air for a moment then smashed it down at the vampires feet. All the while he continued staring into the mans redish eyes. "I think the guards are a bit busy with my friend to worry about our little conversation." When the man took a stab at his nobility Drayle grinned, "Awefully hypocritical of you I think, seeing as you are a man to weak to hunt your own prey. I put up with your idiotic assignment in order to aid my friends, however I've decided its really too much of a hastle. The disruption caused by such activities is really not worth keeping some vampiric fledgling quiet. I could accomplish the same task in a much simpler way." Drayle moved his sword slightly, enough for the vampire to notice its presence at his side. "Of course it doesn't have to end like that, I am no hunter of your kind. I would think you are in some kind of trouble since you've taken such a risk telling us to go do your bidding, am I right? Maybe if you learned to ask nicely for your favors you would get a lot more from them."

RPwizard:
Lars still a bit confused walks out of the bar, that is still in caos, people running out, and guards on the chase. but looking around he could see the elf that was in the blacksmiths talking with another agonian, though a bit heated aparently when the agonian started yelling something. he was curious of the situation, so he decided to put up his hood and walk closer sitting on the corner of the bar in caos. but he heard another caos, this one in the back ally, as he heard though the elf smashed a bottle at the agonians feet, but he ignored that for now and tried to listen to the coversation. hearing the elf just at the end of his sentance saying "...Maybe if you learned to ask nicely for your favors you would get a lot more from them."

Kilc:  
Standing in a pool of red, Itan heard the man cought and sputter, the effect of the spores made worse by the lack of blood in his system. Itan could only watch as the man struggled to get up, before collapsing in the muck. The guard looked at Itan, questioningly, accusingly. Then his eyes rolled up into his skull and he breathed his last. It took an eternity for Itan to move; it seemed as if his limbs were numb, and his heart was unwilling. Something within him, that disappearing logic, knew that he had just commited a great wrong. It was just impossible to put his finger upon what it was- After all, reasoned the reptilian subconscious, it had merely been self defense. It had merely been to collect the blood from the guard, whom he now squatted by, bottle to his bleeding fins. Would the logical side rather sacrifice his precious guild (not to mention his own life) for that of a guard? When the adrenaline died down and Itan's reasoning returned, Itan decided that he wouldn't try to question the subconscious now- The deed was done, and Itan had the two bottles of blood he needed. Staggering to his feet, he returned to the main street, trying his best not to think about the broken body he'd left behind

Ahaark:
Ahaark grinned largley at the elf, "but this was not about me you see, Drayle, is it? This was a test of your morals." He reached opened his bag for the elf to see revealing a case full of blood bottles "If you would have filled the bottles like i'd asked,I'd have known you'd rather risk another's life to like i said, continue living yours, And to collect the blood would have been a sign of comitment to this group of men, the same would have been seen if you took your own blood and put it in the bottle. Like i said, it doesn't matter where the blood comes from as long as it's fresh" he inhaled deeply and smelled the blood of an imperial, "come out now friend, conversations are easier to listen to up close" he called out "And as for you Drayle, Congratulations. I now know where you stand when it comes to the blood of others. He smiled at the elf

Meeb:  
Drayle raised an eyebrow, intrugued by the mans words. "I see, an interesting rational. You are a very strange person sera." He noticed the vampire look behind him and speak to someone, and Drayle turned to see the Imperial standing a ways away, watching them from the shadows. The Dunmer man turned so he could see both the vampire and the imperial, now more worried about the latters intentions. He had a few more questions left for the vampire, but he didn't want to talk about the guild any more around this imperial man so he simply waited to see what he would do.

Kilc:
THere was only one way to end the blackmail. When he was a good distance from the body, Itan left all his worries behind. There was nothing to worry about anymore- Blood could only be covered with more blood, and sins by only a bigger one. Opening one of the bottles, Itan smelt the coppery tang of blood. That there was the smell of blood, the smell of sin. Into the source of the smell, the scalding blood, did he drop a couple of pellet sized lumps, fished from the most secure region of his bag. Fleshfly eggs. Another local organism in the blackmarsh, fleshflies tore at the meat of anyone who dared come close. Scales protected argonians from the flies, but if ingested (even by the most resilient of races), it would be fatal. Only his antidote would such a person, and it was that that was his bargaining chip. He watched the pellets disappear into the opacity of blood, before sealing the bottle and setting out in search of the vampire

RPwizard:
Sitting there, lars could hear the argonian, it was a test of morals, the argonian then opened a bag to show the elf, but where he was sittin he could see what was inside. but when he talked about blood, he figured what he was. but before he could truely relise, the vampire sniffed him out, and invited him to come closer, and congradulated the elf. he saw the elf step to the side to look at lars and the vampire at the same time. lars sighed at being found out and walked closer to the two, " smells are a hard thing to hide i assume, espetialy from somebody like you. but it's not like people can't find me here, i stick out like a sore thumb"

Ahaark:
Looking back at drayle he spoke "When you're an argonian and grow up with a kajiit you tend to adopt the habit of being adnomal" "What is it imperial. it seems you are a bit out of place here? At times like this, that could get you murdered....Or Worse!' Ahaark slowly stepped down the ally and met the imperial..."Are you a spy? sentt froom cyrodiil? or one of those Acursed Dawnguard from riften? Tell me what are your intentions?" he turned to drayle "My friend I do appologize for this but could you inform anyone who is done with their bottles of my location?"

Meeb:  
Drayle stood slightly behind the vampire as he turned to regard the imperial. When he asked him to go look for the others Drayle shrugged, "I would, however I am not sure where they went. I assume they would be heading back towards the blacksmiths though, so we should probably head in that direction after this man is dealth with." He looked back to the imperial, interested by his seemingly nonchalant attitude in the face of obvious peril.

RPwizard:  
the vampire walked up to him and asked he was a spy or something, and then asked the elf to inform others, but the elf said he doesn't know where they are. "sorry i was listening in, was really just passing time and finding things to do, i'm neither a spy, nor a dawnguard. i'm simply here to repair my sword and pass time. though if your all heading toward the blacksmith we may meet again."

Flint: 
Once the others had left the blacksmith Flint exited the house and watched him work on the imperials sword. The backsmith seemed eager to repair it, most likly due to the promised reward. however he did seem to have some trouble fixing it and he had to restart several times. after much trail and error he finally fixed it. he then set put it behind his forge and set to work on his next project. eager to get the sword before the argionian came back, Flint quickly devised a plan to distract the blacksmith. grabbing a nearby torch flint sneaked behind the blacksmith's store and threw the thorch inside before heading back outfront. after a few moments the flames were clearly visible and the blacksmith sprinted inside to fight the fire. Flint took this oppertunity to sprint over and snatch the sword before sprinting off down the street. once clear of the blacksmith he strapped the sword to his belt and walked calmly down the street. "another perfect crime." flint said, grinning to himself. "i think i deserve another drink." and with that he started in the direction of the nearest bar.

Kilc:  
It took a good while of searching and avoiding the guards before he saw them, almost absurdly, right by the tavern. It was almost as if they had been unfazed by the guards, standing still in conversation. Itan approached them, struggling slightly as the pain began to register in his mind. Latching on to this pain, he hoped by focusing hard he could ignore the other source of grief- The alleyway from which he came. His glare saying all he needed to, Itan passed the bottles to the vampire

Ahaark:
Giving the imperial a death stare Ahaark Heard the sounds of footsteps behind him and turned around to be met with the bottles he requested "Marvoulous job egg brother" he said as he downed one o the bottles "But the gathering of blood was a test to see where you stood moral-" He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and slumped adginst the wall of the ally, looking down at his stomach He uttered "it seems you've poisoned me sir" Grabbing at his chest he felt poision seep through his veins "you'd think an argonian vampire'd be immune" He let out small grunts of pain and tried to stand, but failed falling back on his tail

Meeb:
Drayle nodded to Itan as he approached, and delivered the two bottles, full of blood. The Dunmer was surprised that Itan had actually aquired it, and wondered what exactly he was planning on doing. as the vampire downed a bottle of the blood he twitched in pain, exclaiming he was poisoned. Drayle raised an eyebrow as he watched the vampire slide against the wall. He looked to Itan and said, "You know I don't think that was exactly necessary. While his request was certainly devious he claims it was a test of character." Drayle was unsure of whether or not to help the man, "What kind of poison did you give him that would affect a vampire?"

Kilc:  
Egg brother. The connection between all argonians, children of the hist. He'd been egg brothers with so many, yet they dwindled by the day. Just hours ago, he would have had one more egg brother, a guard who would be doing his duty to the town. Yet now he lay, dead, a fulfillment of this....creature's request, a corruption of the Hist's link to them all. Itan simply gazed down, and he focused not upon the death of another brother, (no matter how far astray he was), but upon the throbbing pain in his forearm. It was this pain that was real- A memory of the man whom inflicted it, lost in a bid to feed this abomination's hunger. (Let him suffer...let him be purged) Then the noble spoke up, and Itan dimly heard his question. "What kind of posion did you give him that would affect a vampire?" Itan chuckled slightly. How funny that it should matter how this creature died, when that man in the alleyway will have his murder go unsolved. "Not poison," he replied," fleshfly eggs. When they hatch they'll start eating, munching, gnawing. It won't take long for them to bore their way out of the organs....Only an antidote can save him now"

RPwizard:
lars could tell he stil wasn't trusted, but it's not like he was going to be trusted just from something he says. the argonian that seemed to not like him before came from the ally with two bottles, and gave them to the vampire, he assumed that it was blood because he went right away and drank it. but soon after he claimed to have been poisoned and fell back. the elf looked at the vampire and then the argonian to tell him that that wasn't necessary and then asked what was given to affect him. "not poison, fleshfly eggs" the agonian says "When they hatch they'll start eating, munching, gnawing. It won't take long for them to bore their way out of the organs....Only an antidote can save him now" lars could only stand and watch. " well, this isn't wat i came here for, so if you don't mind me, i have a sword to retrive" turning to go.

Ahaark:
Looking up at the argonian Ahaark smilied a painful smile "but even if i do die, i will always know that your guild means so much to you that you'd be willing to kill TWO of your own kind to protect it, given you may not consider us brothers because i am cursed, i am still saxheel, and so are you" Wincing in pain he reached for his bag and pulled out his brandy, "any chance i could drown 'em in this?" he chuckled an took a swig, but while i lay here and die, i think you've still got problems left to solve." he pointed to the fleeing imperial

Flint:
Flint decided to take the side allys to avoid the swords owner and any guards that might suspect him of the fire. as he walked through the allies he found a odd scene. two of the adventurers he had met earlier standing over the body of the argionian who had tried to ambush them earlier. the argionian had an odd look on his face and the noble looked a little confused. he also saw someone else leaving the alley but Flint couldnt make them out. "you know, if you had let me kill him earlier it would have saved you some time." Flint called out to them, suprising them. "let me guess, another ambush? or did he try and drink your blood? honestly, some people just dont know how to be civil." walking over he put his hand on the nobles shoulder. "you know i COULD help you get ridof the body....foor a price." Flint said with a grin. he then noticed that the argionian on the ground was holding some brandy. Flint reache ddown to take it but was startled when the argionian moved the brandy away. jumping back, Flint drew his sword. " you couldnt even make sure he was dead?"

Kilc:  
"but even if i do die, i will always know that your guild means so much to you that you'd be willing to kill TWO of your own kind to protect it, given you may not consider us brothers because i am cursed, i am still saxheel, and so are you" Itan heard, and heard reason. But it was not reason that a animal desired, and an animal was his subconscious. No, an animal desired cold-blooded vengeance, to watch the flies burst from his skin, to spread their blood stained wings and take flight into the night sky. An animal wanted this man to die. Yet...something within Itan swayed, wanted him to...save the man. Trust? trust had never been his strong point even before this event. Understanding? Itan had as much understanding of others thoughts as a politician-It went only skin deep, just enough for the sake of persuasion. Compassion? Well, that'd been lost in the alleyway...The vampire's trailing voice broke Itan's thoughts ,"...... i think you've still got problems left to solve." Turning around, Itan noticed the Dunmer mercenary observing the scene. The man offered to help get rid of the "body" for them. No mess. It was tempting and yet...Itan sighed slightly. Reaching into his bag, he drew out a thin phial of clear liquid. The antidote. It was posion for fleshflies, yet harmless to other organisms. Itan tossed the bottle to the vampire.  "If you are Saxheel, one of the root- Then prove it to me. Only the hist can be your judge. The antidote is a concoction of hist sap and magic: it will purge many a foul creatures around here, and I still wonder if the flies are the only one."

Ahaark:
He sat as itan observed him, deep in thought he finally spoke If you are Saxheel, one of the root- Then prove it to me. Only the hist can be your judge. The antidote is a concoction of hist sap and magic: it will purge many a foul creatures around here, and I still wonder if the flies are the only one." He spoke "what do you mean...purge me" He asked as he caught the bottle and observed the liquid inside "do you mean it will..."

Kilc:
"I'll leave you to think about it- The guards are after us, and if I ever see you alive again, perhaps then we'll talk once more as egg brothers. Know however, that I will do in my power to protect my Guild. If ever you decide to leak information again, there might not be an antidote" Having said so, Itan turned, suggesting to Drayle that they had best leave town

Meeb:  
Drayle watched the scene unfold before him. While the vampire did cause quite a lot of trouble for them he wasn't sure killing him was the right solution anymore. He decided to leave it up to Itan, since this was a much closer matter to him seeing as it was his guild in danger of exposure. After a brief exchange the argonian guildmaster tossed the vampire the vial, explaining it was an antidote. Drayle looked to the other Dunmer they had seen earlier who had recently arrived on the scene. He took a step away from the mercenary, not trusting the man to allow him close. Drayle gestured to the Imperial and spoke to Itan in an undertone, "What should we do about the Imperial, he may be a spy."

RPwizard:
lars turned around to face the group, "i'm sorry i'm leaving a man to die, but if i can't help him and you will not, then there is no need for me to be there to take blame." but before he turned again another came and called out to them, but apparetly got startled by the dying man and drew his sword. the argonian that gave the vampire the poisoned blood gave the vampire a vial of some liquid. the drawn sword caught his attention again though, and he noticed it looked a lot like his. Lars started walking toward them saying, "one more thing before i go to pay the blacksmith, it seems your friend has something that is mine"

Kilc:
"What should we do about the Imperial, he may be a spy". Still recuperating from the rapid turn of events, the imperial's presence, whilst still threatening, was not as high a priority anymore. He knew that everyone except Drayle perhaps were all too tired to do anything to stop the man even if he was an imperial spy. Just then, the imperial returned, trying to retrieve the mercenary's sword, Realizing that it was the imperial's blade, Itan could only watch as the imperial advanced on the Dunmer.

Ahaark:
Ahaark drank the vial and imeditly felt better, he rose to his feet still a little light headed and spoke "considering all of the trouble that's gone on tonight, i would suggest us leaving town" He said as guards rushed past the alley the burning blacksmith's shop and into the two taverns. His words were interupted by the imperial walking towards the dunmer thieif. In the attempt to stop a fight Ahaark stepped between the men with one hand on an arrow. "lets not kill each other yet gentlemen" He held the imperial in place for his protection. Coming at an armed elf asking for his weapon wasn't the smartest thing to do, espesially in the territory of the ebonheart pact.

[Google]

I was going to do what i did last time with the live RP and do the whole thing from Vistha's perspective as to improve and give greater detail to my posts during the event, from the last live RP I was in to the latest one. However, I got screwed over by the computer because it hates me, so here is what I wanted the post to say in general. I may go back and rewrite it when I calm down, but not right now.

Vistha stayed behind after the vampire meeting. He stayed near the blacksmith, grabbed a dagger, went outside and cut his hand to get the vial full of blood, goes back in after Flint steals the sword, gets Nordic Steel Armor (without the helmet because the smith could not make one fit for argonians) with a Nordic Steel Greatsword, meets back up with the group.

[Google]

(Vistha's Perspective.)

I made my way to the local blacksmith through the seemingly ever growing crowd of strangers in the marketplace. Slowly, but steady, I moved through the crowd and eventually a sturdy building imerged within my sight with a simple sign that read "Blacksmith". As it came into my view, I was struck with an odd feeling, as if I had been here before. It did not matter, however. What mattered was that I needed equipment. As I entered the blacksmith, I was welcomed by the heat of the burning forge, the smell of melting metal at the Smelter, and the sound of a blade on a grindstone. Observing the interior of the shop, I found that it was of a simple design, with a front desk, a door to the back which most likely was used as storage fro gear and tools, and the rather small smiting stations that decorated the shop. I also made note of a Nord, most likely the smith, sharpening a blade at the grindstone. Moving closure, I could make out his face and almost jumped with joy to see that he was an old friend I had made from my day's as a traveling drunk. Tornborn was his name, and he had been the only one in this town to accept me as a smith's assistant in order to pay off the cost to keep a comfortable room at the inn and a lot of drinks. I had learned more from him than I had expected, even when I was wasn't sober. Quickly moving behind the smith, I put a hand on the smith's shoulder to get his attention. "Excuse me, but I have a good friend who lives around here. Would you know anything about him?"

Torborn was a little startled to the point that he nearly dropped the blade in his hands that he was sharpening, but he was quick to regained his grip on the sword. Turning around to meet the stranger, Torborn immediately noticing me, got up, tossed the sword onto a nearby bench, and suddenly hugged me with unexpected strength. "Vistha! It has been so long since I've seen you." Torborn grabbed me by the shoulders and moved me forward a little as to look me in the eyes. "You don't smell of ale. I take it you finally stopped drinking?"

I laughed and brushed the smith's hands off my shoulders. "No, my friend. I have only learned to disguise the smell" I said with a chuckle. "On a serious note, I need some gear. Some armor and a weapon would be all I need."

Torborn grinned and replied. "That should not be a problem. I should, however, finish this sword for the gentlemen who came before you. If you need to rest or eat something, you can wait inside my house beside the shop to the right." I waved my hand as a sign of dismissal. "That is not needed. Not now, at least." Suddenly an idea came to mind. " Wait, forget what I just said. I actually have a few friends that are going to need somewhere to rest for a while. The inn has been and unsafe place as of late, and I would thank you greatly if you would allow them in."

Torborn nodded in understanding. "Wonderful, I had assumed that you had been without friends. I should have plenty of room for you and your friends, don't you worry. Now if you would excuse me, I need to finish sharpening this sword and than I'll get some gear for you that should fit you just fine."

I gave him a friendly smile in response and was just about to walk away to find a place to rest while I awaited my companions when an Imperial emerged from the shop's entrance. An imperial, I thought in shock. What was he doing here? Aren't they our enemy? I quickly shrugged the thoughts off. How foolish I am to question the strangers standing in the war bases off his race like so many others. it only led to conflict, and I wasn't about to start conflict with the stranger needlessly. Walking up to were Torborn and I stood, the Imperial gave me a nod, from which I returned, and began to speak to Torborn. "Would you repair my sword, I will pay any price to have it repaired" The imperial pulled out a battle-worn sword from it's sheath and laid it out in his hands. "It is an alloy of mixed metal, i'll leave it to you." The imperial than turned and began to leave before saying "If you can not repair it, please destroy it."

As expected, they entered into the shop and began to survey the surroundings. Vistha waved to them to get their attention and began to walk towards them. “The Blacksmith has allowed us to rest up over at his place for a while. I think we should take advantage of this, as the inn is not a safe place right now. If you need anything, make sure to ask. And tell him you are with me. We have a history, and I’m sure any friend of mine is a friend to his.”

Both Drayle and Itan seemed to be assumed by this sudden, and positive, change of events. However,Itan made a subtle gesture for me to keep my voice down as he and Drayle suspiciously looked over at the leaving imperial. "What do you think that man is doing here?"

I amediatly waved the suspension away. "I'm not sure. I do, however, think that he is not someone we are going to need to worry about right now."

"You know", said the imperial stated aload as he walked out of the shop, "if you are that curious about a person, why don't you ask them for an answer. Smith, I'll be back for my sword in and hour or two."

As the imperial exited the shop, Iran moved to follow. As Itan moved away Drayle put a hand on his shoulder, "Hold on, let him go. Best not go looking for trouble. I doubt the man saw us as anything more than a untrusting group of locals."

Before Iran could reply, the argonian who had attempted, and failed, to threaten them before stepped into the blacksmith and laid his hand across the shoulder Iran, causing the guild leader to jump slightly. "Itan is it? We have'nt been properly introduced yet i don't belive" he said as he shook Iran's hand. "But while I was in the tavern, I may have heard of a little plot, that may or may not involve some sort of assassination of a possible Thane? I suggest if you'd like that to remain between us you'd better come with me..." Leading the group into a back room of the blacksmith Ahaark advised them all to look directly ahead and to discuss nothing.

Entering the pitch black room, the argonain silently shut the door behind them and lit a single candle in the corner of the room. It became apparent that the group had been lead into a bedroom. The stranger turned and clapped his hands once to gather the attention of the room. "Okay gentlemen, now to get this out of the way. I know why you are here. I know who you are after. With that being said, I want each of you to take one of these bottles" He untied and passed the five glass bottles about the group, from which I grabbed one and began to play with it between my fingers curiously before returning my gave to the stranger. "Your jobs are to fill these bottles with... Well, With blood. How you do it is your choice. Discretely or openly. It must be fresh, And I can tell if you're holding out on me. Being as there are only four of you. Itan, you will take two. Fill them to the brim and return to me out front before daybreak. Or i will sing like a Spriggon on an open flame, No questions then? Be off" he walked past the group and out of the Blacksmith's, shortly followed by Iran and Drayle.

I, however, stayed in the Blacksmith. "Torborn, while I wait for you to finish that imperial blade to fetch me some gear, could I borrow a dagger?"

Torborn didn't even look away from the grindstone from which he was fixing the blunt parts of the sword, but I could hear a humored in his vocal tone. "You can take them all off my hands, if you so wish. I've been forced to buy so many from so many random adventurers that I've gotten sick of seeing anything made of iron anymore. But if I may ask, why do you need a dagger?"

"A promise to a strange friend", was all i said before taking an iron dagger from the counter, exiting the shop, and reemerged into the fresh air of the outdoors. Dagger in my left hand, vial in my right, I put the vial between my teeth and cut my empty hand with a simple cut though my palm. I than replaced the vial with the dagger and moved my know bleeding hand over the vial in order to allow the blood to fill the vial. As the vial quickly filled, I pondered at the reason the stranger wished to get involved with the Stiders. Did he wish to join? If so, he was presenting himself in a most unusual way. Did he only wish to use them as a blood supplier? If so, than he was putting himself in as much danger as he did us. Whatever the case, I was glad to have it out of the way so quickly. Once filled, I grabbed the vial's cap and sealed it before putting it away in my right pocket.

Reentering the shop, I used my robes to clean the dagger of blood before returning it to it's place on the front desk of the Blacksmith's. Torborn seemed to have finished the imperial's blade as he placed it on his workbench before turning to confront me. "Vistha, I have some gear in the back. You can go try it on while I finish up some work."

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It was liberating. The feel of hard, protective steel and the conferrable yet durable leather against my skin was like I was reattaching a part of me that has been missing for years. I've always appreciated Nordic craftsmanship, and this Nordic steel armor was no exception. The Nordic Greatsword was also of wonderful design. it was strong, yet felt natural to swing. It also fit perfectly strapped to my back, which is surprising as the armor straps for two-handed weapons usually feel slightly uncomfortable against the back of the wearer. The only thing the set was missing was a helmet, but Torborn could never could get a helmet to fit an argonian to save his life. Emerging from the backroom, I had noticed that the entrance door was open and Torborn was nowhere to be seen inside the shop. Hearing the mild sound of conversation outside, I marched outside to see Torborn talking with one of the town guards. "...thief needs to be found. The sword he stole is unique. I cannot just give the owner a replacement."

The guard seemed to be very dismissive of Tornborn. "Look, I understand what your saying, but the town is in a state of emergency. The fighting has gotten out of control. First the inn gets hit, and now guards are getting poisoned. All I can say is that everyone needs to stay indoors until Pact soldiers can secure the law of the land." With that, the guard stormed off as Torborn sighed in frustration.

"Don't worry, Torborn. I'll go out and regroup with my comrades, than I'll see to it personally that whoever stole that sword you are talking about is found. It is the least i could do."

Torborn nodded in acknowledgment and walked backed into the shop.

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After a rather short search for my companions, I found Iran, Drayle, the vampire, the imperial, and the dunmer thief all together in what seemed to be a conversation. "I don't mind to interrupt, but what did you all do to get the town so worried as to order for Ebonheart soldiers to come secure the town?"

[Sir Flint]

"well....this escalated quickly..."Realizing that if he didn't act fast they relieve him of his newly acquired sword. Knowing that the odds of him fighting his way out of this were very slim, Flint decided to resort to the age old skill that all thieves could use in these situations: Run away."you see this is all a big misunderstanding, what really happened was..." He started before suddenly breaking into a sprint and shouldering his way past the Imperial and argionain. He sprinted out from the ally and into the middle of the street. behind him he could already hear the footsteps of his pursuers as they sprinted after him. Looking around for a means of escape, Flint spotted a patrol of guards walking down he street. "Help! there's an Imperial spy chasing me!" The guards drew there weapons and walk towards Flint to investigated as they neared him the imperial burst out into the street, looking for Flint. Upon seeing him the guards took pursuit, giving Flint the distraction he needed to escape.

Taking several back alleys and side streets, Flint managed to sneak his way to the front gates without being seen. From there he set off down the road out of the city, deciding that he'd best lay low for a few days. After a short walk Flint arrived at an inn just off the main road. realizing how hungry he was, Flint entered and order himself a meal. As he sat there Flint counted out his coin "well that was a very profitable night. i really must visit Thorn more often."

[Geel-Kajin]

Live RP posts
Onlyahaark: Before Lars knew it the dunmer had raced away with his precious sword, "stop then theif! He shouted before breaking into a sprint after him" heavily hitting the two men standing in the ally.

Kilc240: As the imperial and dark elf glared eye to eye, Itan heard the voice of Vistha behind him."I don't mind to interrupt, but what did you all do to get the town so worried as to order for Ebonheart soldiers to come secure the town?" Turning to look at Vistha, Itan made as if to reply-Only to be cut short by his own hiss of pain. Grimacing, he cast eyes down upon his forearm, where an angry gash had torn right through the skin, leaving scales dangling off mangled flesh. He made to heal the gash, but no sooner than his hand touched inflamed flash was he thrown to one side by the angry imperial. Dismayed, he watched from the floor as the 2 ran off , in the direction of the town's exit gates

Onlyahaark: Lars turned the corner just in time to see the elf enter an inn. Lars didn't stop, the rage filled him and he bursted right through the door of the bar "return what is mine theif!" Lars shouted, turning all of the attention in the bar to himself and flint. Lars held out his hands all the while staring at flint

Meben15: the Dunmer thief ran back down the alleyway from where he came, and Lars charged after him, pushing aside Drayle and Itan on his way. Drayle stumbled a bit but the wall caught his fall. Itan on the other hand fell to the ground. Looking in the direction that the two men had run in Drayle snorted, just as well they run off by themselves it would give the others a chance to leave this place unharrased. Stepping forward Drayle extended a helping hand to Itan, "We should leave this place before they return, I think we've drawn enough attention to ourselves tonight."

Kilc240: Itan accepted the help gratefully, using the leverage to push himself off the slime covered earth. When he realized that he was probably covered with millions of little creatures feasting on his dirt, the pain of his forearm didn't feel quite so stinging anymore. Frantically brushing the residual particles away, he nodded at the noble's words before turning briefly to the rest of the group. "Let's use the distraction they make as our chance. The guards certainly will be pleased to have caught an imperial spy and a thief"

Onlyahaark: Ahaark stood behind Itan and drayle, holding his stomach "flesh flies?, how did you even get flesh fly eggs!" Ahaark walked beside Itan and observed his cut arm, "quite a cut to have run through scales friend" Ahaark ran his finger across itans arm and observed the crimson red liquid atop his finger, ahaark then stuck his finger into his mouth and smiled joyfully, "long live the striders" he said loud enough as to not be heard by guards And followed the group into the night

Kilc240: "How did you even get fleshfly eggs?" Itan snorted. "I didn't get obsessed over dirt for noth-" Itan faltered once again. A searing pressure had been applied to his forearm, and judging by how the vampire was too close for comfort...Itan squirmed slightly, thinking about how the creature's dead finger was pressing into his own. Then it was too much, and he could no longer hold up the courageous facade. He shrugged off the touch, hastening towards the town gates


Onlyahaark: Ahaark walked behind the group out of the front gates of town "quite a night" Ahaark puts his hood over his head as his eyes meet the first light of day. So. I suggest we find the elf and the imperial." Ahaark slid over beside drayle and began to speak. "I see you have a shield...odd for an elf to be of direct combat..." Ahaark squinted At the met and moved on to Vishta-Kai, hello swamp dweller, I am Ahaark of giddeon Where do you reside?"

Flint1firestorm: "By the gods! it's the imperial spy who set fire to the town blacksmith!" Flint lied, quickly trying to turn the tavern against the Imperial. Flint knew that no matter how suspicious he might look the other dark elve's in the tavern would still sooner trust him then a Imperial. "i heard the guards say there's a ten tousand gold bounty on his head." another lie but an effective one. anyone sober enough to stand and draw a weapon started towards the imperial. Flint smiled and gave the imperial a quick salute before rushing into some of the back rooms to find a exit.

G00gle101: As the group took their first steps beyond the confined gates of the disorderly town, Vistha could finally breath in the fresh misty air of the forest as the sun rose in the glory of a new day. The watery air touched his scales and provide a much needed relaxing sensation as Vistha and the rest of the group continued down the stoned walkway exiting the town. Sadly, the silence of the woods was quickly cut short by the cursed vampire asking questions. Vistha turned his head to the shadowy argonian as they moved forward. "Where do I come from, you ask?" Vistha chuckled softly for a moment as a smile consumed his maw. "I have no memory of my origins, I'm afraid. However, if you ask where I reside now, I would simple answer that I reside nowehere and everywhere. The land is where I reside, but a home I have not."

Meben15: The group moved quickly through the streets towards the exit of the town. As they walked the vampire commented on Drayle's sword and shield and the Dunmer gave a small smile, "Not all Telvanni are soley devoted to the arts of magic, or all Dunmer for that matter. I don't suppose you've heard of house Redoran."

Onlyahaark: Ahaark smiled at the dunmer. "I thought you were a telvanni. I've met one before. Three years before the war. In an old tavern. He told me of all of the houses of morrowind. Even redoran and...house...Dres."

Wick2: Draseeth's sleep had been infested with horrors mixed with memories and he twisted about in short spasms unaware of the waking world. Rather unfortunate that such dreams came upon him this night as he slept on a wide branch of a tree just outside of his birth-town. He was penniless to afford lodgings, so he would have to make do. He dreamt of a dark tower he was climbing, of a wraith in luminescent rags, of him tripping backward and falling, falling. /Slam/ He woke with a start and a very sharp pain in his back as he found himself out of his roost and on hard road. Blearily he blinked the weariness away and looked up to find feet. Lots of feet. All around him. Looking up further, he found the startled faces of several characters. "Err... Hi." He said sheepishly.

Kilc240: When the mist rolled down upon his skin in greeting, a welcome to the health of forests and crisp marsh air, Itan dared to draw a confident breath. No more was the heavy fungal spores of residences present in his every inhalation, no more did his wound sting from the odd insect that would lay it wings to rest upon him. The gates of pollution, of Thorn, were far behind, and despite the looming worry of the Thane, they were free. Once more, Itan made to heal the wound....Then a crash came from behind him, and his body jerked to attention. Turning round, he caught sight of an argonian, lying spreadeagled on the ground. Itan hissed in shock and anger, and at once the restorative capabilities of his magic turned fiery with irritation.

Meben15: Drayle raised his eyebrows at the vampire, nodding. He wasn't sure if Ahaark specifically stressed house dres due to its infamous reputation among argonians or not, but it certainly seemed that way. He could not lie to himself and say such practices of enslavement were morally right, but it was the culture he had grown up in. Second to house Dres the Telvanni kept the most slaves of any of the houses, and Drayle was not surprised to see at least one of the Argonians knew this. He himself found slavery to be a disgusting practice, but he knew the shadow of his peoples depravity would follow him everywhere, especially in Black Marsh. He hoped the Ebonheart pact would help to prevent such segrigation between races in the future. Before Drayle had a chance to respond to Ahaark's statement the group was caught by surprise by an argonian landing on the road before them. Drayle gripped the hilt of his sword quickly, all the incidents they had had this night were making him jumpy, not to mention the fact he hadn't slept in a while. Itan seemed quite irritated as well, and turned to the stunned argonian with a annoyed hiss.

Onlyahaark: Lars shoved past the drunken men ,who's attackes were easily dodged, in pursuit of his sword and the dunmer that took it. "Filthy theif!" Lars shouted after the man and began a sprint into the woods behind the inn. Tripping on a log and landing in a puddle of mud Lars's hands shot for his ankle, grunting in pain Lars stood once again pursuiting the elf, Lars fell again, immobilized "fight me like a man elf!" Lars screeched in pain from his ankle.

Onlyahaark: Ahaark trembled at the thought of the house Dres. Putting argonians into chains, whole tribes of argonians. Innocent beasts "yes, he went by the name of Brin. Perhaps you've met him, a spellsword." "I'm glad the pact outlaws slavery. That's one if my biggest fears, to be taken and made work untill my very bones crumble...an eternity..." Deep in thought Ahaark fell behind the group and suddenly he was face in fin with an argonian that had appeared in the street knocking Ahaark to the ground "you smell horrid water walker!"

Wick2: Draseeth hurried to get up and dust himself off, avoiding eye contact. "Uhm, sorry, sorry..." He mumbled, awkwardly half bowing to the strangers half picking up his things only to have a left over empty wine bottle fall, hitting him in the head, dropping his things again. "I'm just going to.. eh..." He made to walk away after gathering his things once more. The quiet stares were not welcoming.

Flint1firestorm: Flint watch the imperial sprint out of the inn from his vanatage point in the tree's. he was suprised to see him make it out of the so quickly. Flint was beginning to feel impressed with the imperial until he saw him trip on a log. Flint stiffled a laugh as the imperial struggled in the mud. when he couldnt rise flint relised that he must have damaged his ankle. The imperial began to tuant him from the ground. Flint leaped down from the tree and leaned against a tree stump near the mud puddle. "Fight you like a man? what an odd request. do you wish for me to change my skin color and cut my ears? I'd ask you to fight like a mudcrab but you seem to already be trying that tactic." flint drew his knew sword and held it aloft. "tell me, why is this sword so important? and why did you want it destroyed if it couldnt be repaired?"

Kilc240: Itan glared angrily at the source of intrusion, and despite the apology, something deep within Itan wanted to lash at the stranger just for the sake of satisfaction. Itan's hand faltered for a moment in actual consideration. How powerful he felt, in control of not only his own, but another's life! Then the image of the guard came once again- A bloody, piteous corpse on the floor, cold lips open in the formation of a never-answered question..Itan had no trouble shrugging away that horrifying notion afterwards. "Where are you going, stranger?" The argonian seemed harmless enough; certainly too shell-shocked to be a danger at the present time. Then again, the events of previous days had shown him that trust could no longer be applied to every egg brother. So once again flames ignited in Itan's palm, and he pressed for answers.

G00gle101: The stranger began to walk away towards the town, leaving with the group with unanswered questions that Vistha felt needed to be answered. Firstly, however, he needed to get the stranger to stop. "Just hold on a moment, stranger. The town is not the best place to be right now. If you wish, you can travel with us until we get some other town nearby."

Kilc240: "Just hold on a moment, stranger. The town is not the best place to be right now. If you wish, you can travel with us until we get some other town nearby." Itan head snapped back in momentary irritation, annoyed that someone had disrupted his own application of pressure on the stranger. Than he realized that it was Vistha-Kai, and his words were far more logical. By having the stranger with them, it would prevent the guards hearing of their escape, and confirm that the argonian would truly do no harm. Stepping down in his level of aggressiveness, Itan let the frills drop and his arm hand back at his side. "What he says is true...If you were going to town....It's safer to follow us at the moment, but we must hurry. We should gain as much distance between us and the twice-damned place"

Wick2: Draseeth paused, looking back, blinked. He looked back to where he was headed down the road. Was he even going the right way? The tumble threw his sense of direction off for a moment. He looked back again. Remembering the fact that he had no coin for the town anyway, he wondered about the offer. He looked the band over and wondered more what happened in town to this group. One with a gash in his arm, looking annoyed, and particularly suspicious of his own kin in his own land. Another Draseeth felt a dark presence with, but not exactly a threat to him. He stood a while gauging his options, and finding his innate curiosity getting the better of him. His mind's inner workings ticked out a rythm of chaotic trains of thought. Maybe he could use them? No, dangerous. Who are these odd ones? Is it worth finding out? Caution. Information. He reminded himself of his goal. He needed information. He slowly nodded to them, guessing their own ulterior motives. "Very well." Trust your instincts, he told himself. Insticts told him to take it in stride.

Kilc240: Itan nodded grimly, turning to go. Behind him, Blackmarsh. Before him, Morrowind. It would take a long time to reach the frozen icelands where the Thane held his power, and he had a reputation to uphold. Such dallies were a hindrance to their goal, and Itan was determined that the next one would be swiftly put down. As they walked, a tense quiet between them, Itan mentioned the stream they would come to in a couple of hours."I passed it on my way here, " he muttered , his hands working magic across his forearm. "We can rest there before we enter Morrowind borders"

Meben15: Drayle eyed the Argonian before them, sizing him up. He didn't seem to be dangerous and was obviously fairly confused at the groups hostility towards him. Itan was obviously quite irritated with him, however Vithsha spoke up, inviting the argonian to join them. Drayle thought this wiser than sending the man away, he could inform their enemies as to their wherabouts. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that. He could see Itan found this to be acceptable as well, and reluctantly invited the argonian to acompany them. As they continued walking Drayle examined their new companion, watching his movements. It was hard to tell exactly what he was feeling due to the less expresive features of argonians but he seemed to be either confused or intoxicated. Drayle suspected he was under the influence of skooma, or maybe hist sap. He would need watching, but he seemed harmless for now so Drayle let it be. "Right, lets get going, hopefully we can make it over the boarder to Morrowind today, although we might run into some trouble at the border outpost..." He trailed off, surveying their group. Four argonians of questionable morality and a dishevled looking Dunmer might run into some trouble with the border patrols, especially since they were heading through territory controlled by House Dres. The Ebonheart pact may have abolished slavery, but Drayle doubted that would stop the Dres Farmers from aquiring a few 'servants' to help sow their fields.

Onlyahaark: Lars sat staring at the the elf. "The sword you ask...the sword is...Cursed, he who wields it will start to turn a sickly shade of green and their eyesight will fade, it's even worse to be struck by the thing. Because it is....magical. Cursed by the gods of the elves." Lars knew none of this as a fact and hoped to distract the dunmer as he slowly inched towards him

Onlyahaark: Ahaark turned to Itan "quite a journey hunh? , you've still got that gash... Here lemme fix you up." Ahaark reached into his bag to grab a small vial of thick yellow liquid and poured it on a rag Ahaark pressed the rag against itan's skin "now hold that there for a while and open up." Ahaark started rummaging through his bag and eventually found a spoon and a bottle of brandy. Ahaark poured the liquid onto the spoon and shoved it into itan's mouth. "As to numb the pain" Ahaark stated and started wrapping itan's arm with the rag still in place. He then took a small sip from the yellow vial and continued on with the group

Kilc240: "I major in restoration, I can certainly-" But Itan could no longer speak when a spoon was shoved in his mouth. His brow furrowing in annoyance, he made attempt to speak, but spluttered upon the contents of the spoon and swallowed it in his panic. It burned his throat slightly, doing nothing to ease the spluttering. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he bit hard upon the empty spoon and spat the remnants of the wooden utensil on the floor. with one last glare at the broken bits with suspicion, Itan quickened his stride to put as much distance between him and the vampire.

[OnlyAhaark]

Feeling deeply insulted Ahaark walked to the left of the group opposite itan and eyed the long twisty road ahead of them, Glancing to ones side, it was clear that the sun had only an hour or two left before it was upon them, which could only mean one thing, Guards, chains and interrogations. Ahaark pulled his hood further down his face, shadowing all but his glowing blue eyes.
"I don't mean to speak out of turn... but it seems our time is running out, if we don't make pace soon, we will be put to the block... or worse."

His walk turns into a quick stride as he pulls ahead of the group, he removes his bow from his back and eyes the combination of trees and midsize mushrooms that dot the sides of the road, scanning each one individually for archers or mages. He turns around to face the group and searches the rear flank for pursuers.

"Itan, we are in danger. I can feel it in my bones, Hushed whispers and running legs. I cannot kill another Saxhleel. No matter how much of a filthy disgusting beast they may be, It goes against my every fiber as one of my being Perhaps we should make camp in there?"
Ahaark points towards the thick bog that coats the left side of the road with his tail.

"I cannot take the sun's fury all of the hour. And fighting would do nothing but gain us more unwanted attention, As we caused a bit of a stir back there...But I suppose if we WERE to set camp, we'd be found within at least an hour. But i may need some kind of cloth to protect myself from the tyranny of the sun"

Ahaark rummaged around in his bag and found a thin blanket then proceeded to wrap it around his head As the men from hammerfell. He gently wraped around his horns and placed his hood on, letting them fall through the slits on it  crafted especially for his people.  he looked at the striders and held his hands out to show them.

"It seems my gloves leave my hands exposed, if my hands are burned by the sun, I will be of no use." He speaks in a calm, yet desperate tone, like a modest beggar asking for water

[Geel-Kajin]

Live roleplay
Meben15: After walking for a few more hours dawn was begining to rise upon the swamplands. Ahaark stopped, raising some concern about the saftey of the group. The vampire seemed unwilling to travel during daylight hours, which was understandable, yet he was also concerned that they would be attacked if they loitered to long here. Drayle thought about the predicament they were in. They could continue walking, but he was not sure if the transition into morrowind would offer them any Salvation, what with the large number of Argonians in their party. While Drayle was very tired, he too was concerned about what might catch up to them if they stopped. Looking to ahaark he said, "We could continue, I have some bandages that you could wrap around your wrists to shield you from the sun, but I am not sure if it is wise to cross into morrowind during daylight hours. House Dres owns the lands in the south, and we may be met with some resistence by the border watch, given our current appearences. Perhaps we could find a hidden hollow off the road to rest for a while?"

Kilc240: "Perhaps we could find a hidden hollow off the road to rest for a while?" Itan grimaced at the thought. They were too close to Thorn for his liking. It wouldn't take them much effort for them to find them. Itan noticed the boggy area Ahaark pointed out- It was dark and damp, and if they couldn't go far, the best they could do was hide. "We best head there then," resigning to the idea, Itan cast a quick look over their shoulders before motioning them into the grove

Flint1firestorm: Flint looked at the sword and then back to the man. He didn't appear to be a sickly green or any kind of green for that matter.Deciding that the man was lying, Flint decided to be on his merry way. "well as much as i'd love to stay and chat about this "cursed" sword, i really must be off." Flint considered killing the man but then decided against it. there was a small chance the blade was cursed and Flint didnt want to take the risk. instead he sheated the sword and leaped over the mans body and setting of down the forest road.

Kilc240: Wading to mid height through the swamp, Itan impatiently waited while the vampire cooled himself down from the heat. The trees grew long, trailing vines, and it hid them decently. However, any local could find them without any problem in these swamps. "We should camp here" he muttered, pointing a large, flat rock that jutted out of the swamp water. It was shrouded by old weed and moss, and was out of view from the main road.As he made his way to it, Itan caught sight of a shadow, a figure, hidden between the vines. Jerking to face it, his eyes narrowed to focus upon...nothing. Whatever it was had swept out of sight. "Did anyone see that?" itan asked, his pupils dilated in alarm

Meben15: Itan agreed with Drayles suggestion to camp, albeit a bit reluctantly. The group moved off of the road a ways, until the found a large rock which protruded from the swampy surroundings slightly, concealed from the main road by a tangle of vines and foliage. Drayle put his pack down on the rock, pulling out the bandages and handing them to ahaark. He sat down on the cold surface of the rock, relieved for the small respite it granted him. Before he could really relax however, Itan jerked around, looking intently off into the swampy trees. "See what?" Drayle asked, standing up again. He loosened his sword slightly in its scabard, "It could have been one of the creatures that live in these swamps, I've heard there are many which are quite dangerous."

Kilc240: Itan nodded, and quickly motioned for the others to crouch down. They were currently downwind, and their smell (By the hist, they smelt) would quickly alert any predators, even in the confines of the jungle. Turning to the others, he was dismayed to realize that none of them had seen the shadow. Perhaps he was mistaken? However, Itan would not leave that to chance. He turned to the noble, who had been the first to pull out his sword at the sign of danger. It was remarkable that a softskin out of his ashlands would be so quick on his feet. Motioning to Vistha to keep guard over the newcomer and the vampire, Itan drew ahead with the dark elf, a fistful of fire in his palm. Perhaps what the vampire said wasn't purely lies? What if there was truly a danger ahead?

Flint1firestorm: As he walked down the forest path Flint began to think on what his next move would be. his hidout, the place where he stored his loot, was in northern morrowind and would take some time to reach. Flint then remembered what he'd overheard those adventurers talking about assassinating some Skyrim thane. "hmmm i wonder how much the thane would pay me for warning him? although.....blackmailing the adventures does promise a much more likly payout." deciding that blackmail would be the safer route, Flint quickly started makeing his way north. However he soon found himself on the edge of a swamp. as he searched for a way around he spotted the group of adventurers making there way towards a stone in the swamps center. "perfect" flint said to himself with a grin. he climbed a nearby tree and decided to watch them from a distance.

Meeb: Drayle drew his sword fully out of its shealth, shifting his shoulder to bring his shield down onto his other arm. He fell into a guarded crouch, his blade ready to thrust forward at anything that charging towards them, his shield in front of him to protect from any projectiles. Drayle and Itan scanned the treeline around them for any more signs of what he had spotted, but there was nothing.

Onlyahaark: Ahaark jolted upward at itan's words. And stared into the trees "we are unfortunately not alone as it seems" drawing his bow Ahaark looks into the eyes of his companions "prepare yourselves"

Flint1firestorm: As flint watched he suddenly heard the noise of someone running below him. as he turned to see he lost his balance and fell from the tree, right onto the running man. Struggling to his feet, Flint turned to apologize to the man. "sorry about that, i was just..." Flint stoped mid-sentence when he saw a dredic tailismon around his neck. Flint held a preticular hatred for deadra worshippers since one of his older brothers had left home after joining some cult. Reaching to his hip, Flint drew his personal sword and slashed at the worrshipper. " Die heritic! Where's your god now?" the man resonded by luanching a fire ball at Flints feet, causing the undergrowth to catch alight. Flint cursed and ran around the fire to catch him but he was already running. Flint sped off after him.

Meben15: Drayle heard a crash of branches to their left, and jerked his head around to look. He spotted a plume of flames flickering through the trees. "There!" He said, pointing it out with his sword. The Dunmer moved quickly down the rock, jumping along the various fallen logs in the swamp to stay above the murky water. He was just in time to spot the back of a fleeing figure before it vanished into the trees. Fortunatly the person was making enough sound to make it quite easy to follow them, not to mention the large number of vines and branches they were pushing aside to move faster. Drayle looked back to Ahaark and Itan as they caught up to him, "Should we pursue?"

Kilc240: Itan heard the vampire mutter a warning, he too drawing his bow at his self-predicted danger. They crouched there, eyes sweeping and seeking, weapons at the ready. Yet nothing came at them. There was an absence of movement and for a moment, all was silent. There was no rustling of leaves, no buzzing of bugs or the steady bubble of the swamp. Such anticipation built that Itan was sure the trees themselves drew a collective inhalation, prickling to their full, towering heights. Then suddenly, the roar of a flame broke the silence, so fearsome it was that it made the flame in his palm flicker and hiss. A wave of heat rippled through the forest, and the level of skill required to cast such a spell made Itan realize that the sudden turn of events had been no such coincidence. "There!" Itan eyes followed the noble's blade, coming to rest at a robed man, rushing through the woods. Flames licked the branches around him, and it seemed to trail behind him as he ran. Wasting no more time, itan nodded to the noble, and began the chase

[OnlyAhaark]

Ahaark followed behind Itan and drayle, running through the swamps felt natural to him, relaxing and almost soothing. But then it hit him, his scales burned and his eyes dried. And then a voice, inside of his mind spoke in a voice that would terrify any mortal. It spoke of destruction and terror. But worst of all, the merging of nirn and Coldharbor. Molag Bal's plane of oblivion.

" Itan, Drayle there is something about this cultist. But I can not place my finger on it...it's unatural and evil."

Ahaark kept quiet about what he had heard so that his newly found friends wouldn't turn on him and accuse him if being cultist himself.

"Drayle, I hope you've studied the school of restoration!"
He shouts throught the swamps

[Geel-Kajin]

Itan leapt over boulders, bracken and bodies of water, determined to catch up with the hooded man. As the group of them weaved after the cultist, he saw the landscape undergo subtle changes as they raced past. Steadily, the bright tinkling colors of fresh buds, delicate and demure against the lush leaves, gave way to ichor-colored vines and fungi, marred even in it's ugly appearance by a trail of scorched earth. Casting a look upwards, he saw the cultist still trailing his path of flaming destruction, which wrought those blackened marks upon the ground.

" Itan, Drayle there is something about this cultist. But I can not place my finger on it...it's unnatural and evil." The vampire had caught up to Itan, and now ran side by side with him in their pursuit. The Argonian mage wondered how the vampire had sensed that, and certain suspicions formed in the back of his mind.

But fearing unnecessary exhaustion by speaking, Itan avoided voicing his thoughts and kept his focus upon the red robes of the escaping destruction mage, whose flames flickered behind him as bright as any beacon. Though this torch-like fire made the man easy to track, the vampires words, coupled with the amazing magicka endurance to sustain such flames, made Itan determined to keep an eye on the cultist. This was no novice of a renegade- He was a full-fledged destruction mage, and his presence here could bode ill.

They sprinted a decent distance in such a manner, headstrong in their attempt to stop the danger. Yet it was only inevitable that their mortal shortcomings would catch up with them. While the vampire carried on at his usual pace, Itan's breath grew ragged and harsh. His tail drooped, and another coat of sweat covered his already filthy rags. If this was the toll his exertion posed on him, he could only imagine how the noble, a dark elf in a foreign land, was faring. A certain paranoia overtook him, a frightening notion that the others had been left behind in their exhaustion.

Sparing a quick look around, Itan saw no sign of Drayle or the others in that split second. Panic mounted, but he had no choice but to continue. Yet by checking his surroundings, Itan realized that they were heading away from Thorn.(and any possible form of help, even if it was from a company of outraged guards) They were a good stretch north-west of the last Argonian population, and were moving closer and closer to the wild borders of Morrowind. Itan knew that if anything drastic were to happen, the Guild would not get help from either side.

It was here that the cultist cut through the brightening air with a cry of "Faster!, before making a sudden turn in his route, jerking to the side and into the undergrowth. It was a shout delivered so chillingly that the morning sun lost all it's warmth, and Itan truly feared that that was to be done "faster". In that moment, he faltered out of shock, and the cultist disappeared from view.

Snarling, Itan skidded to a halt. How could he have lost, (By the Hist!) a crackling ball of fire in the middle of a tranquil forest? It was hardly as if the man blended into the background! However, now that he took a proper look around, this "tranquil" forest seemed quite the contrary. The plants were withered and shriveled, as if they were herald to some oncoming doom. The trees drooped and sagged, as if burdened by the knowledge of what was to come. And looking up, into the murky-red dawn of South-Morrowind sky...

They didn't need the cultist anymore.

[Google]

Moving through the fog consumed forest was like a maze for those who lived in distant lands, but the dangers within the woodland labyrinth held terrors that could frighten the bravest of warriors. For Vistha, however, traveling within the natural webbing of the forestry was child’s play. Rapidly roving across the jungle as his cold steel boots crushed loud and hard against the minute puddles of rainwater and reduced twigs of lumber, Vistha found it increasingly difficult to maintain his focus on the cultist and his companions as the thick moistened air danced on his scaled skin alongside the harsh punctures inflicted by tree-branches that managed to penetrated his moving flesh, resulting in trivial slashes on his unprotected face.

While Vistha moved with grace, he was not invulnerable to the natural annoyances of the elements of the land and grew in frustration that was only suppressed by the smoothing sensation of the calming ventilate within the forest. Intensifying in swiftness as the shadowy figures grew further from Vistha’s gaze, it was quickly evident that the land seemed to flourish disturbingly in decay in his pursuit of the cultist. Letting out a breath of exhausted air from his beastly maw, Vistha slowed to a rapid stroll and unhitched his Greatsword from its resting place on his reinforced back with his steeled gauntlets, producing an abrupt echo of freed metallic sound that roared within the unearthly surroundings that Vistha found himself in.

An unnerving chill enveloped Vistha as he advanced into the now desolate landscape, devoid of life and the relaxing watery vapor that the Marsh was famous for. Yet the fog remained, but it only took a sniff from his muzzle to realize that it was more volcanic in origin. Yet it was not a natural flame, as this smoke was still cold and magical. Not taking another moment to observe the unsettling terrain, Vistha continued the hunt for the cultist.

The search did not take long before the fog began to clear, only for Vistha to bar witness to a horror so terrifying that it almost brought him to his knees. A vigorous, fierce and dominating glow of violet lighting blasted volleys of cruel might from the darkened sky. The “portal” was contained inside a disfigured metal band, circular and deviant, from which spiked chains, nailed to the device, connected it with the ground where unyielding hooks burrowed the lifeless earth that seemed to have been burned with fearsome flames.

“By all that is holy…” Vistha muttered in awe as he turned his attention to Itan, who was standing still but a few feet away. “Itan! What in Nirn’s name is that thing!”

[Darth Meeb]

They ran through the thick undergrowth of the swampy marshlands, chasing after the flickering crimson flames the robed cultist trailed behind him.  As he was jumping from log to log, trying to stay out of the sludgy water to increase his speed, he heard Ahaark say something about an evil presence.  Drayle did not doubt him, in his experience mysterious robed mages hiding in marshes usually meant something evil was afoot.  He could only hope it was something minor like some necromancers summoning a few skeletons.  

Suddenly the undergrowth cleared, and all hopes of something minor were removed from Drayles mind.  The group stopped dead in their tracks, all taken aback by the looming monstrosity in the sky above them.  Just looking at it Drayle could feel the magicka seeping through it, ripples of power.  It made his stomach turn and he guessed this was what Ahaark had sensed before.  

"By Vivec...." The Dunmer said under his breath.  Drayle heard Vistha ask what it was.  Without taking his eyes off of the thing Drayle spoke, "Its a Portal, Daedric in origin I think.  I think I recognize parts of the incantations used to bind it.  Conjuration is not my strong suit, but Daedric is a very easy to distinguish language, and this thing is full to the brim with its power."  He said this in a somewhat distant voice, knowing that the excess amount of information wasn't really necessary in this situation, but saying it anyways.  "I don't know what plane of Oblivion this Portal leads to, but I doubt its a very pleasant one."

Just as he said that a monstrous roar erupted from the far side of the small clearing they were standing in.  A swamp tree was smashing in half as a hulking, ten foot tall crocodile like creature stepped out into the clearing.  It looked towards the group of Argonians and Dunmer before it and its red eyes narrowed with rage and malice.  "That, I believe, is a Daedroth,"  Drayle remarked, in the same distant voice, "One of the more powerful creatures of Oblivion.  I've heard its scales are so thick they reflect attackers swords back upon themselves."



He slipped his shield onto his left arm, tightening the leather straps.  "Right, are you all ready to close a portal to Oblivion?"  His apparent confidence thinly concealed the fear he felt in his heart at the sight of the hulking Daedroth.  He honestly had no idea if they could close this portal, but if they didn't.... it would not be good for the Pact.  He decided to ignore his doubts for now and focus on getting around the monster before them, "I'll distract this thing, everyone else try to get past and stop them from summoning more."

[Geel-Kajin]

(Sorry for the late reply, I was preparing for a competition)

The unearthly rock scraped down from the skies, its tip jet red with the ember of dawn, yet its glow befouled by malign darkness. Yet this copper glow was a mere distraction, foil and flickering contrast to the bright blue light above it, a howling vortex of the other realm. It crackled with electrifying energy, and twisted the already warped rocks into ever more unnatural shapes as they made their descent.

They watched, at the edge of the last of Blackmarsh trees, as the great formations hit the ground, and felt the force as the trees shook and trembled from the impact. “By all that is holy…” Itan heard Vistha gave a exclamation of disbelief and shock, an echo of all their feelings. “Itan! What in Nirn’s name is that thing!”

Itan made to reply, but stunned out of his wits, his words came out merely as a whisper that died against the howling, crackling vortex. Staring at the scene before him, it was almost as if he had been drawn into a world of his own, for though he could hear the voice of the noble explaining the situation to Vistha, it seemed so far, far away... Even the vortex before him seemed surreal, a mere figment of a dream of candlelight mages. The black anchors, just a passing nightmare and the daedroth that drew from it...simply a trick of his confused mind.

A daedroth, a daedric portal...Surely the Guild was doomed to fail.

It was this thought that made him come back to his senses- Back to a blood curdling scream of a cultist and the roar of a beast. The daedroth had turned upon its summoners, razor sharp teeth grinding eagerly on tender flesh and soiled robes of it's newfound prey. Itan saw a wetness pool across one of their robes, and the flames that flickered around him extinguish, like the last life of a torch. Then, as the severed arteries gushed blood and the others of his coven trampled upon his severed arms in their escape, the cultist the Guild had chased was torn apart, diced, eaten whole.

As greedy deadra eyes bore down upon flesh, the noble concocted a simple plan- To use the window of time he gave them to halt the anchors influence upon the world. Itan doubted the plan to its last fibre, but it was their only plan- The Guild's last hope. So pulling out a restoration staff, he motioned for others to prepare for battle in their stand against the horrors to come.

[Sir Flint]

Flint stopped in his tracks once he saw the large portal floating in the sky. never before had Flint seen such a sight. Gods i hate cultists.... Flint thought to himself as he heard the group of adventurers rush into the clearing. As they tried to comprehend the sight before them a demon of oblivion appeared before them. It was a fearsome sight.  It looked like a giant alligator that had learned to walk. "well......this escalated quickly..." Behind him he could here the noble taking command and telling the other what to do. Flint was about to go over and aid them when he saw the cultist from earlier talking to what appeared to be the leader of these cultist. Flint grinned "cut of the head....kill the body."  

placing his sword back into his sheath, Flint broke into a sprint and charge towards the center of the clearing. Flints first obstacle was the large demora but he simple slide between its legs and kept moving. As he neared the cultist group one turned and noticed him approaching. In one fluid motion Flint drew his sword and slashed the cultist throat. The next cultist had managed to summon Demora weapons before Flint reached him. He attempted a parry but Flint slipped under his guard and finished him. Before Flint could move onto the next cultist the cult leader came rushing at him. His sudden rush took Flint by surprise and he barely had time to parry his sword. Realizing that he'd lost the element of surprise, Flint moved to pull back but their leader kept him on the defensive. He taunted Flint as they fought. "So your the one who wanted to know where our God was? survive a few more minutes and you may just catch a glimpse of him coming through the portal.....that is, right before he melts your brain to mush." As the cultist talked flint saw an opening in his defense. "if your so eager to meet your god, LET ME SEND YOU TO HIM!" Flint shouted before make a straight jabbed for the cultists chest. However, the cultist managed to cast a shield, stopping flints blade just short of his heart. Panicked, the leader lashed out at Flint before turning tail and running. Flint moved to follow but he was stopped by the barrage of fireballs coming from the remaining cultist. using a rock for cover, Flint tried to think of a way to get past the cultist. Dammit, i cant get past them while there focused on me....

[OnlyAhaark]

Ahaark slowed his run and observed the field before them. It seemed to have some sort of... Perimeter of death. The once lush and dense trees of the marsh now stood as withered, tortured souls. The feeling of the portal seemed familiar to Ahaark almost... fatherly, he felt his arms become heavy with realization as he leaned to the telvanni and whispered
"Exactly what kind of cultists are these men Drayle? Mora? Malacath?" Just as he finished his question flint runs into battle sliding past a hulking brute of a lizard like it was nothing "I guess we're going to find out" Ahaark muttered before calmly resting an arrow upon the string of his bow.

"I suppose i'll take beefcakes over there, Land walker, try and keep pace". He says this ironically as Drayle had outrun him while chasing the cultist. With a final nod to the noble And his two egg brothers, Ahaark storms into the battle.
"The thing looks like it couldn't tell Saxhleel from Orc" He shouts as he runs towards the towering beast of scales and teeth. Jumping above a slow misplaced swing gives him the opportunity to fire and he does so, sending the ribbon laced arrow into the Monster's forearm. It seems to laugh at him as it swings a faster, much more powerful blow that connects with Ahaark's stomach and sends him flying back towards the where the group had been Ahaark looks up to Itan from his spot on the ground

"i don't suppose you'd Know how to deal with a daedroth would you?" He arises from his position and runs towards Flint. He shot a single arrow at the cultist which dug deeply into his shoulder blade, He turned his head to look towards Ahaark Who then lands an arrow to the Throat. "looked like you needed Help" He shouts

[Darth Meeb]

As the group looked at the Daedroth before them, several of the cultists were drawn up into the sky by the portal.  Drayle assumed this was the consequences of their rushed ritual.  As their screams tore through the sky Drayle spotted a familiar figure a ways along the side of the clearing, the Dunmer theif they had seen back in Thorn.  At the moment he seemed to be trying to get to the lead cultist, a dark robed man wielding a thick iron staff, but there was a cluster of about half a dozen robed acolytes keeping him in cover with a rain of fireballs.  

Ahaark said a quick word to them, then ran off in the direction of the theif.  Drayle paused for a moment, analyzing the battlefield and determining his best course of action.  He hoped Ahaark would be able to deal with the cultists with his bow, but the real threat was the portal.  Even as they stood there it summoned forth a swarm of scamps.  

Drayle saw the Daedroth had turned away from the cultist it was devouring, the swift movement of Ahaark had caught its eye.  While the vampires arrows may be effective against the mages, Drayle didn't know how well they would work on the Daedra's scaly hide.  He ran forward, channeling his magicka into his hand.  He remembered from somewhere that most Daedra were vulnerable to lightning, time to see if there was any truth to that.

"Over here you Infernal Swit!"  He roared at the daedroth, thrusting his sword towards it.  A bolt of lighting shot from its tip, slamming into the daedroth's back.  It roared in annoyance and turned to focus on Drayle.  The Dunmer took up a fighting stance, readying to dodge away from the giant creatures attacks.  It lumbered forward with surprising speed, and Drayle was barely able to roll backwards to avoid its razor sharp claws.  Darting foward, he put all of his weight into a stab at the abdomen of the creature.  His blade connected heavily, with a loud clang as if it had struck rock.  He stumbled back from the impact of the strike, slipping to the ground to avoid the daedroths snapping jaws.  It roared at him once more, lifting a heavy foot to stop down on his prone form.  Rolling to the side he got to his feet in a flash, turning to face off against the daedra once more.  It charged at him again, and he dodged, keeping a safe distance away.  He didn't have to kill it yet, better to fight defensively and distract it while his companions dealt with the other threats.  He hoped Itan could figure out how to close the portal too, otherwise he fead a mere Daedroth would be the least of his worries.

[Darth Meeb]

Posts from Live RP

Kilc:  The moment he picked up his staff to defend himself, the sudden appearance of the damned thief, his blade whistling through the air, marked the start of battle. Caught off-guard, he heard the noble give a dunmeric curse before lunging forward in attack. However, it did no more than a spoon would do to cutlery, and gave a dull clattering noise as it bounced off the creature, despite the blade's magical resonance. The situation was a nightmare.  Gripping the staff all the tighter, Itan stuck to the plan and raced towards the portal. It pained him to leave the rest of their teams to their separate battles, but the only way to succeed was to carry out the job. Running round the scuttling pest-like scamps, he heard their high-pitched shriek in their attempts to catch up. That, along with the ominous low rumbling of the unaturally dark sky and the deep bellow of the iron-belly daedroth, complemented and contrasted to form the music of anarchy and chaos. Itan felt a shiver crawl down his spine as he ran, feeling the disturbance in him amplify as he closed in on the portal.

Ahaark:  "i'll leave you to it then" he said to the theif as he made his way towards itan. Finally reaching and running backwards by his side. "what are those things, House pets?" he laughed as he flung an arrow and hit a scamp in the chest. A look of worry came over Ahaark's chest when it didn't slow the little creature down a bit. he loaded up two more arrows and aimed for heads, stopping two in their tracks. Ahaark turns around and Runs regularly "so whats the plan waterwalker? Are we going to send this back where it came from?" Ahaark loads an arrow up and shoots it over his head. One of the creatures pursuing this runs underneath it and is left with a chronic headache. Ahaark reloads an arrow onto his string

Flint:  as the archer lept up and left the Cultist were temporarily distracted by the running figure. Using this oppertunity Flint lept from his cover and closed the gap between them. By the time the cultist noticed him coming he was already cutting the legs out form under one of them. relizing that they couldnt beat him in close combat the cultist attempted to put some distance between themselves and Flint. However, Flint Kept at them relentlessly and wouldnt let them get away. after he cut down a third cultist Flint noticed the Cult leader trying to heal himself near one of the portals anchors. Gripping his sword thightly, Flint broke off from the cultist group and charged at the leader from behind. He must have heard Flint coming at the last moment and turned but it was to late. "Heal this!" Flint shouted before driving his sword right through the leaders heart. "looks like you get to meet your god after all." Flint said smuggly. To his suprise the cultist smiled to. "I will meet him...and SO WILL YOU!." he shouted before leaping backwards directly beneath the circle, pulling flint and his sword with him. to Flints suprise the Cultist slowly began to rise towards the portal in the sky, Bringing flint and his sword with him. Despritly Flint tried to pull his sword out but to no avail. relizing that if he didnt let go he would be pulled into the portal, flint released his grip of the sword and pushed himself off the cultist, sending himself hurtling to the ground.

Meeb:  Drayle continued to face off against the Daedroth as the battle raged on around him. He stayed a safe distance from it so that he could easily dodge its attacks while trying to think of a way to kill it. The monstrous daedra leapt forward, swiping both of its clawed hands down towards him. Drayle spun backwards, skirting around a boulder to give himself a bit of extra time. He came around onto the creatures flank, sending another bolt of lightning at the daedroths scaly hide. While the magic seemed to have more effective than his sword, the daedra seemed more annoyed than actually hurt as it turned back around to him. Drayle was caught by surprise as the Daedroth swept its tail around towards his legs. He jumped into the air to avoid it, however it clipped one of his feet, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. As the Daedroth loomed over him Drayle searched through his spell knowledge, trying to think of something that would be more affective against this creature. Lightning vulnerability, yes but not enough. What other things would work..... Summoned from oblivion, Conjuration, unsummon it? yes, break the ties. As the daedra lifted its clawed hand to destroy him, dralye jumped to his feet, placing a hand upon the daedroth's chest, sending all his strength through to unbind the magic that held the Daedroth on this plane. It roared in anger, stumbling back as its image began to flicker slightly. "Go back to oblivion!" Drayle yelled, moving forward to cast the spell again. Before he could however, a surge of energy shot from the portal down into the daedroth and its shape reformed. Drayle frowned as the Daedroth recomposed itself and moved towards him once more

Kilc:  Reaching one of the portal's anchor points, Itan looked around the madness, adrenalin coursing through every fibre of his being. The group of them were dispersed, each to their own little battle. their own little problems. He was the only one they could rely on to use the noble's distraction wisely, and stop the influx of daedra. Looking up at the foul structure, the stone anchor point glowed a bright light at the core of the stone but was high above their heads. Using the surrounding boulders and rubble for help, itan hoisted himself up with all his strength, and shut down the first anchor point with a bout of magicka

Ahaark:  Ahaark turned from itan and started towards the daedroth and Drayle. "go To An Anchor point, I'll handle this guy!" Ahaark then ran around the monster firing arrows and shouting obsenities about it's mother. He then makes his way towards the downed flint and pulls him to his feet. "Anchor points! meet Drayle and Itan there. Ahaark then unsheathed his two daggers and ran towards the few cutists left. he landed a few light cuts and they joined the daedroth in pursuit. He ended his trip by trampling some scamps that latched onto the monster's back and joined the chase. Ahaark loaded four arrows and shot over his shouder at the angry mob pursuing him. All the while making noise and sprinting. which began to tire him quickly.

Flint:  Flint lay on the ground for a few moments before struggling to his feet. He looked around for his sword before relizing what had happened. "for the love of.....damn, i loved that sword.." It was then that flint relized that one of the anchore points had been destoryed by the argionian mage. Flint also noticed the other argionians trying to kill the big crocodile demon.....thing with daggers. "Well he tried to help me earlier....maybe i should return the favor." as Flint stood there trying to deicided wheater or not to help he noticed the lead cultist staff on the ground. "hmmm....maybe this will do something." Flint picked up the staff and aimed it at the large....thing. "umm....fire?" Flint was then thrown backwards as a large fireball shot from the staff towards the Deadra and the argionian.

Before the Daedroth could charge him again there was a resonating crack as one of the great chains securing the portal to nirn broke. Drayle glanced over to see Itan standing by it, staff in hand. The dunmer smiled as the Daedroth roared in anger, turning to look towards Itan. At that moment Ahaark charged forward, firing arrows at the Daedroth to distract it. As he did so he shouted to Drayle about the anchors, running back towards the group of other daedra with the Daedroth pursuing him. Drayle immediatly ran down towards where the portal was anchored. He rolled to the side as a pair of scams threw fireballs at him, then bolted through their ranks, clearing his path with an arc of electricity that sent the scamps scurrying. Dodging the blade of a Dremora that had just fallen from the portal, he scrambled up the rock that the second anchor point had imbedded itself. He dropped his shield, taking his sword in two hands. Sending a surge of magicka up his blade to heat it, he swung at the thick chain. There was a harsh clang and a grinding of stel on steel as the red hot blade sunk through the metal. After a few seconds a second crack sounded and the portal above them shook violently in the sky, its connection almost destabalized. Drayle was about to go to the third anchor when he spotted Ahaark, facing off against a large quantity of daedra, including the daedroth. The dunmer theif seemed to by trying to help, but he had lost his sword and was now using a fire staff with little effect. Jumping down from the rock Drayle charged towards the back of the Daedroth, not sure exactly what his plan was to kill it. Maybe if he hit it in the right spot he could get through its thick skin. With a warcry he leapt onto the the Daedroths back, smacking it in the head with his sword. It roared in annoyance as the blade clanged against its head jerking up to try and grab him. "Spirit of my ancestors, guide my blade!" Drayle shouted, closing his eyes. He drove his blade downwards, sending volts of electricity through it and into the Daedroth. The gods must have been with him, for his blade sunk straight through the monsters eye, penetrating deep into its skull. It roared in agony, flailing around and hurling him off its back. Drayle got to his feet quickly, adrenalyn pumping through him. He charged forward towards the wounded Daedroth, smashing his fist into its chest and casting dispel magic once more. This time the portal was weakened, and it could not keep the daedra intact. With one final roar the beasts form withered into nothingness. Drayle saw a flash of metal above him and reached his hand up just in time to catch his blade as it fell from where the Daedroth's head once was.

[Google]

Dremora, servants of the lands of Oblivion. Said to be among the deadliest of warriors that can ever be faced in battle. Vistha knew what they were the moment he noticed them moving from the decaying treeline and slowly emerging from the dense fog surrounding the portal. While Vistha had never seen an Oblivion portal before, he had dealt with enough cultists in his time to know how what a Dremora looked like and the threat they faced. Panicking in his worry for his allies, Vistha's instincts took over and time seemed to slow to a crawl as Vistha turned his attention to the rest of his companions. To his dismay, they were to focused on dealing with all the more noticeable threats facing them. Turning his gaze back to the emerging Dremora, Vistha knew he needed to act.

With the odds stacked aginst him, Vistha did the unthinkable. He charged alone against the Dremora threat. With a loud sigh and a single goal, Vistha silently contemplated his odds. "One against an untold amount of Dremora... this day keeps getting better and better." Greatsword at the ready with his plated gaunlets gripping the weapon's handle with untold firmness, Vistha quickly engaged the nearest of the Dremora with a speed that even surprised himself. Before the Dremora could even react to the sudden attack, Vistha let out a battle cry as he ended his charge by bringing his blade upwards in a strengthened uppercut. As the blade made contact with the Dremora's armor, the loud metallic sound of clashing steel and ebony screeched as the impact the attack led the Nordic blade to slice through the Dremora's armor with relative ease. As the blade continued upwards, it cut cleanly into the demon's flesh before the blade finally sent the Dremora twisting wildly into the air and crashing into the ground a few feet away.

(Sorry to cut this short, but its getting late and I'm getting tired. I'll finish it up tomorrow in a separate post.)

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(I've edited this a little more and I'm generally satisfied with it now.)

((While I was writing this post I thought about all the classes in the game and found that the Templar is more to my liking over a Dragon Knight. So I’ve made up my mind as to say that this event is when he learns of his ability to control light magic. Hope you enjoy!))

The element of surprise, now broken, caused the other Dremora to turn to the argonian with their weapons at the ready. Vistha counted five among their ranks, which was not looking good. Grimacing on his limited chance of survival, Vistha braced for the Dremora’s assault as they descended on his position. The first one charged Vistha with a deformed shield in front in hopes of bashing him to the ground and causing him to loss his footing. However Vistha was quick to react and hastily sidestepped the attack while swinging his blade gracefully towards the Dremora’s exposed neck. Not having the time to react as it attempted to slow itself down, the sword made contact with the demon’s neck and sliced into flesh and bone, disconnecting his head from the rest of its body in a bloodily haze of gore and shattered metal.

While Vistha was recovering from the momentum of the killing blow, one of the Dremora had been able to take advantage of the distracted argonian. Slamming it's battle-hammer into argonian's back with a loud snap of breaking armor under the pressure of the impact, Vistha let out a agonizing shout as the pain of damaged muscles and broken bone consumed his mind and soul as he was shot forward and into the ground. At the same time, he lost his grip to his weapon as it fell next to where he had collapsed. While his sight was still in a daze from the attack, Vistha knew better then to remain idle in the heat of battle and quickly made a grab to regain a grip on his dormant weapon. With great effort to ignore the pain, Vistha shuffled onto his back just in time to notice the Dremora as it prepared to slam the battle-hammer into the argonian's chest.

Raising his greatsword to block the blow, the clash of the two weapons shot forth a spectacle of sparks and metal as the blade attempted to hold back the mighty pressure of the battle-hammer. However, and much to Vistha’s dismay, the sword could not withstand the strain and the blade shattered to pieces right in front of him as the hammer slammed into his armored chest. While the blade had weakened the attack, it was enough for Vistha to spit out a bloodied shout of agony as the sound a damaged armor and bone was unleashed into the air.

The world around him become faded and dark, and the only thing keeping Vistha awake was the pain and the adrenaline that pumped in his veins. As the hammer was raised again, Vistha knew that it would be a killing blow if he didn't act swiftly. As the Dremora prepared to stick again, Vistha began to bloodily and quietly chant a series of the words from the ancient language remembered only by those who teach the power of the divine. When he had been but a child he had been taught these holy words by a group of traveling priests that had stopped by Vistha's village to spread their religious values. Vistha had never thought anything of what they had said, but he had remembered the prayers that they had taught him. Prayers that was said to bring light in one's darkest hour. It seemed like his best shot at survival if the sayings were true, even if he had no idea of the chances of success. As the chant died down due to a loss of breath, the Dremora’s battle-hammer began to descend onto him once more. “So this is how it ends…” Vistha thought to himself as he closed his eyes, awaiting the killing blow.

But it seemed like destiny had other plans. At that very moment a blinding aura shot forth from around Vistha’s body with the ferocity of the sun itself in an awe inspiring display of light. The Dremora, much to Vistha's amazment, lost a hold on its weapon as the hammer, alongside the Dremora, was blasted backwards in what could only be described as a holy nova of divine energy. However, from Vistha’s perspective it was like a healing wave of divine power as his bones and muscle felt as if they were being repaired to full strength. The blood of his wounds vaporized into nothing as it the wounds inflicted never existed in the first place. "A miracle," Vistha thought to himself, "Truly the Divine's watch after me this day... if I believed in such things." Now surrounded with a divine shield of light, Vistha used his renewed strength to launch himself onto his feet and regain his footing. The daze and throbbing he had that he felt before was now replaced with a new-found clarity.

The three Dremora that stood nearby cautiously surrounded him, likely unsure as how to react to this unforeseen event. As the light began to diminish, a celestial spear slowly formed in Vistha right hand, much to his surprise and awe. The spear looked as if it was made of pure sunlight, yet it was as solid in his hands as any weapon of steel or iron. Turning his attention back onto his opposites, Vistha suddenly burst into laughter and crazed joy in response to this miracle that he had been blessed with.

The moment was cut short as the danger of the situation arose once more as one of the Dremora regained the courage to attack now that the light around Vistha had began to diminish.

[Geel-Kajin]

When Itan's magic coursed through the anchor point, it felt as if some force had fought against his attempts, a magical, malign construct bent on continuing its streak of havoc. It had retaliated in frustration, swatting his first attempts away. He faced such a repulsive force from the anchor that with one arm pointing the staff at the cursed stone, it was all the other arm could do but to cling on to the rubble heap for dear life.

Perhaps it was his staff- lifetime companion and guide, that catalysed the realization that they were in more than dire states. The opal mounted on the staff in his hand was usually a pure orb of white, pale and unblemished; Not even the darkest of rooms could taint it's restorative glow. Yet now, in the presence of a daedric creation, a tongue of scarlet reflected off it's smooth surface. And in this fiery nebula before him, Itan saw a shadow of a god turning their way, his eyes like crimson stars.

It was then that like a wounded beast, the last remaining magic of the anchor point lashed out furiously in it's death throes. Facing a wave of energy, Itan's fingers were yanked free of its handhold and his feet were forced from the grooves in the rubble, which he had foolishly climbed in his haste to destroy the anchor. He found himself thrown from the ruins onto the ground, a good three meters below. A sharp, paralysing pain shot through his back, blurring his vision and knocking the wind out of his lungs. As he gasped, struggling for breath, he heard a dying fizzle of energy from above. For all the agonizing pain, it was relief to know the anchor point was shut down.

For a moment Itan lay celebrating the victory, revelling in his small success- That was one of the three anchor points destroyed, one step closer to getting the Guild out of hell. It felt sweet and satisfying to know that something had gone right that day. However his happiness, like all those before, were short-lived. Logic returned to him - He knew he couldn't stay half-conscious out in the open, so close to the anchors main body. He had to get out of the danger zone. Propping himself on his weakened knees, Itan fought sickening nausea as he began a shaky crawl towards a outcrop of rocks.

His attempts were futile. He made a pitiful two meters before his arms gave way beneath him and his face hit the dust. Hissing in disgust at the dirt and his own inadequacy, Itan rolled onto his side, being careful to face the main battle. Since there was no way he could make the shelter at this state, he was left with only two options- Pray to not die, or heal to not die. Deciding it was best to trust himself than gods whose tokens were aplenty on dead soldiers, Itan pointed his restoration staff at his own self, letting it's shimmering beams soothe the tremulous pain.

Perhaps it was the chaos of the battle, perhaps it was cloudy vision of his eyes, which returned to clarity too slow for any benefit in this battle. Whatever the reason, Itan would never the impossible sight he saw next. In the delusions of a pain-induced stupor, Itan looked up from the earth to see Vistha battling dremora nearby. As daedra after daedra swung its blade at the argonian, Itan could not help but feel a heavy resignation build up in his stomach. It didn't matter if you were a trained swordsman or the very fashion of the grim reaper- Even Ysgrammor himself would have a hard time with these creatures. Somewhere deep in his subconsciousness, a nasty being hoped that Vistha's death would prolong his own survival.

Then a blinding light swept across the battleground, searing its way into Itan's mind forever.

When his vision once again cleared to sub-par quality and the throbbing in his head dropped in its intensity, Itan looked up to see in the place of Vistha, stood a holy avenger swathed in stunning brightness that penetrated even the darkest tendrils of aura. For a moment, Itan thought back to those dead bodies of the soldiers with the amulets on, and wondered whether they turned into this furious angel after death. Then Itan saw the tail, frills and otherwise earthly appearance on this "fallen" comrade, realizing that this was no post-death apparation. No, this was the true, real self of the man he thought he knew. All perceptions of Vistha as the drunk, the lone survivor, the meat shield, vanished completely. Only now, there was nothing to fill this void in his identity with. What was this man?

Curled on the floor, Itan watched as Vistha delivered glorious, bloody carnage.

[Geel-Kajin]

Live RP event
G00gle101: The Dremora charged with a speed that rivaled a cheetah advancing on a kill as Vistha readied himself for the demon’s attack. Raising the celestial spear to block the Dremora’s greatsword as the demon slammed its blade downwards toward Vistha, the clash of the two weapons sent a blast of light outward toward the Dremora. The blinding radiance of holy energy completely evaporated the demon, leaving nothing left of its very existence behind.
As the light diminished, Vistha braced himself as the two other Dremora’s charged his position. Lifting his celestial spear in front of himself Vistha charged the Dremora on his left and, before it could react to his assault, impaled its chest with a fury of penetrated steel and blood. With speeds that rivaled the demons themselves, Vistha put a foot up to the Dremora’s chest and removed the spear from the now dead body just in time to react to the last demon’s upward swing of its greataxe.
As the Dremora lifted its axe upward towards him, Vistha back-flipped over the attack and landed on his feet with a grace that surprised even himself. The Dremora turned to were Vistha now stood just in time to use its axe to block Vistha’s trusting spear that would have decapitated the demon had it nbot been blocked. As the spear made contact with the demon’s weapon, the Dremora pushed the spear back, causing Vistha to stumble backwards and loss some of his footing.

Flint: After being knocked back by the blast Flint lay on his back for a few moments. "huh. i think ill leave the fireballs to the mages from now on." he muttered to himself as he stumbled to his feet. out of the corner of his eye Flint a flash of blinding light. He turned to see the argionian from early, caoted in some form of divine light. He was fighting three demons at once and looked in need of assistance. Flint considered helping him but......warriors of juistice and thieves didnt get along. Grabbing the staff of fire, Flint looked for a way to destroy the remaining anchor point. He considered useing the staff but after what happened last time he didnt fancy getting sent flying a second time. He then sotted the noble from earlier standding nearby. he apeared to have just slain a demora with a mixture of sword and magike. "hmmm....he'll do." Flint muttered before rushing over to the noble. "hey use this on the anchor." he shouted before tossing him the staff.

Kilc240: Itan saw the glare of light, the clash of blackened weapon against overwhelming brightness of unatural steel. When Itan's eyes, blurry and unfocused, came to rest once again on the battle, there was nothing left of it to see. Merely a pile of ash smoldered where the demon was, never again to return to whatever daedric realm from which it came. The sight filled Itan with a new hope, rekindled despite his pain and state of delirium. With the noble's deactivation of the other portal and this....unnatural being by their side, perhaps they could conquer the impossible. A weary smile crept over his face, along with a grim set determination to help regardless of his battered state. Another Dremora came, his weapon at the ready. Sinister axe swung downwards, evaded only by the fast reaction of the argonian. Faced with such ferality, even this holy protector would face difficulty. When the Dremora seemed to get the upperhand with it's aggressive stance, Itan knew he had to lend whatever little aid he could. Raising his staff, he sent a burst of razing magicka at the daedra, the once-healing nature of it's energy now intent on draining the devil of all it's ferocious vigor.

G00gle101: The Dremora was blasted with a bright light, seemingly siphoning the Dremora’s energy as it started to move unassuredly. Turned to see that the assistance came from his argonian guild master, a smile formed on Vistha’s maw. However, the draining magic that Itan used was not enough as the Dremora tackled Vistha with an unexpected amount of force. The charge sent Vistha flying backwards a few feet, but not enough to prevent himself from falling down completely. Landing on his feet once again, Vistha found himself just a short distance away from the last Dremora who was once again charging towards his position. Thinking fast and acting faster, Vistha raised his spear and tossed it with a force that was so powerful that it had impaled the Dremora chest and pinned it to the earth before Vistha could even blink.
Just as quickly as the spear had manifested itself into existence, the celestial spear disappeared in a spectacle of light leaving only the finishing blow of the dead Dremora behind as a reminder of its use. As the adrenaline of the engagement began to fade, Vistha felt a withering of pain and a draining of his energy. The world around him commenced to fade away as Vistha’s knees collapsed, leading to himself falling into the ground. As he felt the last of his energy fade, the world was consumed in darkness as Vistha finally blacked out from exhaustion.

Meben15: Drayle stood there for a second, catching his breath. With only one link left keeping the portal bound to Nirn it was shaking violently in the sky, bleeding out tendrils of unearthly blue vapor. There was still a group of Dremora battling below the portal, but Vistha was keeping them at bay with some manner of magic. Drayle was somewhat surprised by this, he had not know the argonian was a caster. Even so, the number of Dremora was large and while the portal was not summoning any more they were formidable foes. Drayle was about to charge down to come to Vistha's aid, when the dunmer thief ran up to him. "hey use this on the anchor." He said, tossing a carved staff to drayle. Twisting around the Dunmer caught the staff with one hand. He was familiar with such devices, although he prefered to carry a sword into battle. Looking at the staff he sensed its magical energy through his palm, hopefully it would be enough to break the final bond. Pulling his arm back Drayle placed his feet firmly and activated the staff, sending a roaring ball of fire towards the chains of the portal. It struck the links and they glowed intensly, twisting under the heat of the flames. Drayle frowned, firing the staff once more. The second blast was enough to weaken the chain, and with a furious howl it tore itself free from the material plane. The sky twisted and moaned in a very unatural way as the bounds to Oblivion were severed. With one final screech the portal twisted shut, vanishing into the evening sky. Looking down Drayle saw Vistha finish off the last Dremora, then fall to the ground. Itan was nearby though, so Drayle was sure he would be okay. Looking over to the theif Drayle smiled, letting out a small chuckly as they stood victorious over the cultists. "Well, that went alright. I'm don't think I'd ever expect to say this, but its good to see your sly face again."

Kilc240: A small struggle, followed by a quick sigh of relief by Itan as a hole bored through twisted black flesh, the mere throw slamming the daedra to the floor. The wound charred and fizzled as the daedra struggled, before going limp. With the main danger gone, his eyes swept back to the main source of surprise and shock for the day. He looked in time to see Vistha's eyes glaze over, before crashing right next to the daedra. A stab of worry hit him, and Itan feared for his ally. Despite his apparent invulnerability, he was clearly just as in the open as he was now. Taking time to access how he was to get to Vistha and check his wounds, Itan noticed to his complete surprise that the portal was shuddering. Itan looked up in shock, to see the last of the anchor points under stress from the noble's onslaught. From within the fading abyss of the portal, came unearthly screams of dismay, a fresh wave of arms reaching through the crackling oblivion realm in an attempt to catch the last raft out to Nirn. Itan's heart raced, praying to the Hist that the anchor point would be shut down in time. One, two,three pairs of hands reached forth, weapons cruel and ready to kill. Then the final burst of flame made the very last chain collapse, and the entire system dissapitatied from Nirn. Only smoldering ruins andshattered stones marked a place of terror for this Guild.

Flint1firestorm: Flint smiled back at the noble. "Just doing my civic duty, the same thing any law abiding citizian would do." Flint gazed around at the ruined battlefield. despite the large fight, there werent to many bodys. this was because the demora corpses seemed to dissapear when they were slain. "crap, no swords to loot. now i gotta head north to pick up one of my spares." Flint rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out why he had taken part in this fight when there was no profit for him. "hmmm....oh yeah, cultists.....wait a second, where's...?" it was then that flint relised he wasnt carrying his bag of loot. "s*** my bag!" franticly Flint started searching for his bag of stolen gold. He shouted over to the noble. "hey if you see my bag give me a shout, i'm gonna search over by those rocks." He shouted before sprinting off. Flint wasnt about to lose that much gold without a fight.

Meben15: Drayle chuckled again at the mans callous words. As his fellow Dunmer ran off in search of some bag, Drayle turned back around to where Vistha and Itan were. He walked over too them, casting his eyes about casually for the theifs 'possesions' as he approached. "Is he okay?" He asked Itan as he approached, kneeling down beside the unconcious Vistha.

Kilc240: It took a while for Itan to get up. As much as he wanted to rush over to his fellow Argonian, he was pulled down by the protests of his still aching body, which sent jolts of pain up his spine whenever he attempted to shift his weight. It was only after a minute of nursing the impact of the fall with his staff did his body finally relent, and allow his passage over to Vistha. Stooping beside his fallen comrade, Itan checked for a pulse, placing two (By the Hist, dirt-ridden) fingers on the Argonian's neck. Thankfully, Vistha checked up alive. "He should be fine..." Itan said, in answer to the Noble's question, "But it really can't be said too soon. I have no idea what....thing he became, and definitely no idea how to treat it's side-effects. It'll be like treating a headache with scale-rot medicine, or worse, It might even hurt him if I go in without a clue." Hoping that it was mere fatigue bagging the Argonian down, Itan asked the noble to get the others to gather around. Once he ensured Vistha's safety, they would have to leave this cursed place in the soonest possible time. Half of Morrowind and Blackmarsh must have seen that Leviathan-sized chunk of rock!

Meben15: Drayle nodded, "I am not sure what he did either, I have never seen such magic. I suspect his side effects are a result of magical overexertion, but I cannot say for sure. It seems similar, but who knows with this type of magic." When Itan suggested they leave Drayle nodded. As the two men stood, Drayle held out the fireball staff still clasped in his hand, "It still has a few charges left, and I prefer to wear a shield on my arm. Perhaps it would be of use to you?"

Kilc240: Itan was getting several ingredients out of his bag when a staff, wooden and etched with intricate runes, entered his line of vision. Frowning slightly at the distraction, he noticed the hawk-like head to the staff, commonly associated with the destruction class of magic. "It still has a few charges left, and I prefer to wear a shield on my arm. Perhaps it would be of use to you?" Realizing that the noble(Drayle, he corrected himself), had offered him the staff, Itan accepted it with a weary laugh. "You aren't worried I'll use the wrong one and burn Vistha to a crisp?" He joked. Then, worrying himself with his own humor, he carefully strapped the staff to his back, ensuring the only staff on the ground was the right one. He'd never mix up the two energies but...somehow the best treatment for unconsciousness wouldn't be a fireball to the chest. Itan got back to work, adding a paste of mashed butterfly wings and swamp fungal pods to a skin of water whilst straining out the seeds and larger fragments with a thin, fibrous mesh of dried vine. Observing the water turn a pinkish red, Itan opened Vistha's many-fanged mouth and poured in the impromptu broad-based potion, hoping it would ease whatever strain his body was facing.

Flint1firestorm: After several moments Flint found his loot....or what was left of it. while the cultists had been barrading him with fireballs it seemed that his spoils had been caught in the crossfire. Flint, on the verge of tears, gathered what was salvageable of the loot into his spare bag. "A thief steals and he gets rich....a thief does a good deed and he ends up poor. i thought the gods were supposed to REWARD the just?" he muttered to himself. Relising that without a sword and without enough coin to pay for a trip the whole way to his base he'd be very unprotected on the road north. It took Flint a moment to relise his solution was right there infront of him. Looking as casual as possible, Flint strolled over to the two adventurers and their sleeping friend. "Gentlemen, i understand your heading north? well then this is your lucky day, as am i! whats say we journey together? strength in numbers and all that?"

Meben15: Drayle looked at the man, sizing him up. He didn't trust him in the slightest, but he had proven useful in the battle, and Drayle didn't think the thief was after them. He looked to Itan to make the final decision however.

Kilc240: "Gentlemen, i understand your heading north? well then this is your lucky day, as am i! whats say we journy together? strength in numbers and all that?" Looking up from his work, Itan took a while to take in the man's proposition. He himself had been meaning to ask them to join the cause, but it was most distasteful to know that it would be this man who'd get to it first. The man was as unpredictable as a Hacksaw He was for himself and only himself, and had disappeared before for his own ventures. Itan doubted he had the loyalty which the Council had selected the original recruits for. Then again....Itan grimaced, his face sour, out of all the Council invited, only Vistha had turned up, and he now lay unconscious on the floor. Itan reckoned it was time to get himself some own Guild members. "You're more than welcome to join us, but I want to offer those of you here and conscious something more than just each other's protection on the journey", pointing to a copse of trees up ahead, he continued" Loot the cultists for anything they have, then let's get to the shelter of those trees and make up camp. We can talk there"