[IC] The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

[LC]

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A title, one that seemed long forgotten now, even after so short a span as it had been. It rang in Kiffar's ears, and brought ice blue eyes quickly to Captain Renault's face. It was such a simple request, and he couldn't decide if she meant to flatter him into compliance, or insult him into it. For a long moment, he simply stared, ears perked high and tail lashing, whiplike, behind him. For all his air headed behavior, those eyes were sharp as augers, uncomfortable for any unfortunate soul without a stalwart disposition and a spine like daedric steel. But then, surely, the Captain of the Blades had both.

Slowly, he decided she could not have meant insult by her words. Her duty was akin to his own, true, but he could not expect her to understand the depth of his shame, the shame of all the Manesguard, in the failure of their duties. Still, it would not do to let her carry on under the pretense that such claims were acceptable. He stooped low, bringing himself almost nose to nose with the Captain, voice low and words measured, a care given to sound... Proper, in this foreign tongue.

"Kiffar.... Is Manesguard no longer. This one remembers Captain Renault. She is proud, and capable, and Kiffar's Once-Kin, his... Fellows, spoke highly of her company in the negotiations. But she will not call this one Manesguard again. Kiffar is Unbound, forever, and always, and he deserves no better. But he will do this thing for you, for the fair hand her Mane-of-Men, her Emperor, dealt Kiffar's kind, however loaded the dice."

With a heavy sniff, he straightened, seeming content to have set the matter straight. Still, there was a set to his shoulders, now, something more ready than before, a more watchful feel to his wandering gaze. He awaited the others to come to readiness- And of course, when their things caught up, he was among the first to rummage through the chests of gear to fetch what had been taken. Heavy blades were returned to their places at his belt, weights and plates returned to wrists and legs. He seemed vaguely disappointed to find one item missing, rifling through the chests a little longer in search of it, though its apparent loss earned only an irate snort in the end.

"Silly man-things, taking Kiffar's sugars. No fun at all."

[Simple Unicycle]

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The first thing that struck Antonius when he woke up was the smell, a kind of staleness in the air mixing with sweat and a hint of blood. He picked himself up off the ground slowly, a string of saliva dangling from his mouth only to be wiped away by his sleeve a moment later. Sitting up now and leaning against the wall, he took in his surroundings and the people in the cell with him. A mountain of a Khajiit, two Argonians, a Bosmer, a Dunmer, a few Nords and Bretons and Orcs - quite a lot of people crammed into one tiny cell. He tried his best to get his bearings again, reaching up to rub the welt on his forehead only to wince and hiss in pain at the touch.

Antonius was only awake for a minute or two when an entourage arrived at the cell, a group of Blades escorting... Oh Talos, that's the Emperor. He had to be dreaming. But the headache reminded him that no, this was not a dream, and he began to feel like he was in way over his head. One of the Blades told them that they were pardoned for their crimes, Antonius wondering for a moment just exactly what crime he had committed considering he got knocked out as soon as the fight began, and that they were free to head up the stairs or follow them through the tunnel that had been opened within their cell. Either way, they'd be facing opposition.

Quickly, people began to pile through the tunnel, the Blades leading the Emperor up front and followed close behind by the rest of this ragtag group of lowlifes. The group traveled through the tunnel which gave way to a cistern with different tunnels stretching below the Imperial City. The Captain of the Blades went to speak to the giant Khajiit and Antonius couldn't quite pick up the details of their conversation. What he did pick up as the rest followed in behind them was that their belongings had arrived, and he quickly made his way over to secure his sword and bow. He fastened the quiver to his hip and stored the bow and sword on his back, giving a sigh of relief that his gear was unharmed.

Antonius looked around for a moment before speaking to himself out loud for anyone nearby to hear: "Not exactly how I pictured my day going..."

[Quest Abandoner]

_{Direct mentions: @Simple Unicycle}

The stone beneath Yarmira’s feet was dead. No breath of the Green in these walls, no root nor creeping vine, only the cold weight of rock pressing down from above, lifeless and still. There were caves in her homeland, but no Bosmer delved their depths. Her elders spoke of such places in hushed voices, crevices forsaken by The Great Spinner, places where malevolent spirits prowled. Languishing in the absence of the Green, waiting in the dark and still air for their next victims. To steal the breath from their lungs, the flesh from their bones, and walk again in the daylight as shambling mockeries of life, like crude puppets.

The stories crept into her mind like shadows, dark and unsettling. The weight of them pressed on her chest, urging her to move faster, to dash through the cold corridors before the spirits of the cave caught up.

Her feet itched to run, but Yarmira stayed in step. She found her confidence in the familiar bone grip of the daggers in either hand, the familiar weight of the bow slung across her chest. Surrounded on either side by similarly armed men and women, most who towered above her, the young Bosmer silently dared the twisted cave spirits or crimson demons to test their mettle. She prowled low and quiet through the tight caverns, one ear listening intently for the anguished howls of lost spirits and the other caching snippets of her companion's conversations. The Bosmer dropped back in the pack, a desperate attempt to avoid the veritable duststorm stirred up by Kiffar-Nirthal.

A voice cut through the dim. "Not exactly how I pictured my day going..."

Her head swiveled like an owl's and she fixed her gaze on the speaker, a cellmate who had gone unnoticed until now. Tall, bronzed skin, and with those same alien, rounded ears that seemed common in these parts. He carried what looked to her like a giant, two-handed dagger, with a strange bow slung across his back. Unfamiliar attire, but the bow marked him as a fellow hunter. She fell in step with him, staring up at the Imperial inquisitively before speaking.

"It would be a dull life if you knew the shape of your story before it was sung," she said, voice high and piping, black eyes bright with a kind of incipient good will. "Y’ffre delights in twists and turns. A tale without surprise is like a hunt where the prey falls willingly into your jaws."

Her gaze kept returning to his bow. It was familiar in shape, yet foreign in spirit. She knew bows of sinew and bone, carved from the gifts of the hunt. Shaped by careful hands and honored in use. But this was something else entirely. She couldn’t help but feel a twist of discomfort in her throat as she studied it. Yarmira tried to move past the feeling.

"I've found many such creatures in this strange country, who might give up their life without a chase," Yarmira continued her previous thought. "Great, lowing beasts, some with horns atop their huge heads this long," she spread her arms wide. "They they live in herds, but will walk right up to a hunter, no fear in their eyes. As if they've forgotten they are prey."

Yarmira addressed the companions nearest to her, hoping to gain some insight into the things that pursued them. "Tell me friends, have any of you encountered these red demons before? Are they Mer or beast? A hunter must know their quarry."

[Simple Unicycle]

^{Direct Mentions: @Quest Abandoner}

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As Antonius readjusted his gear he heard the Bosmer speak to him. A little chuckle escaped his lips as she mentioned how Y'ffre enjoyed the unexpected detours that life loved to throw at people. "I suppose one must also learn to love it, but I'm not quite sure I can enjoy this turn." He looked at the Emperor for a moment, a feeling of unease gripping him. Something bad was happening right now, that was for certain. He only hoped that the Blades and even this group of misfits could protect the Emperor from whoever was after him.

The wood elf continued to speak, describing... Some kind of beast. Minotaurs, maybe? He hadn't had the displeasure of running into one in his travels. But no, minotaurs are territorial and dangerous beasts, nothing like what she's describing. He kept racking his mind trying to figure out what creatures she had seen when it hit him: cows. She was talking about cows. "... Those are farm animals."