Alfhedil

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

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Above, within the Bastion

A pair of heavy wooden chests sat before the pair as chaos roiled around them, shouting voices, the sounds of combat beyond in the courtyard and the ever so distant burning of a city. Yet the pair stood there looking at the contents arrayed before them. Much of it was rather mundane, the expected belongings of those merely out on the town even on a night such as this. A few coinpurses with strings tied to them and labeled with names and times of seizure, some more elaborate and finely crafted wallets with much the same identifying marks. There were pouches and bags, a few suspect items here and there, and of course a small sack of white powder that had been placed in a separate lockup. "Say, as a priest…" The Imperial Allian began, a sidelong glance to the not so clean-shaven half-orc beside him. "You uh… Think this warrants a conversation with the divines?" To his credit, Yashar contemplated the merits of doing so, though the both of them knew that the Nine did not interfere in the trivial matters of mortals.

"Perhaps." He said at last, rubbing a hand across his chin as the two considered the bandolier and belt before them sleeved with what had to be at least a dozen assorted daggers. "What does someone even do with this many knives? I understand the Emperor himself has pardoned those of us caught in the riots, but…" The two men shut the chests one after the other, each taking one in both hands and starting the rather awkward route back down into the cells. "Though only the divines may know the answer to such a question, Allian, I think it only right and fair that they be returned all the same." Yashar returned, careful to not sound too judgmental on the subject at hand, though also avoiding going into a sermon just yet. "Perhaps our friend the Argonian shadowscale has his reasons, and be they combat or collecting it is his right as a free citizen of the Empire to do so." One step after the other, they dodged other Legionnaires moving through the Bastion and the occasional Blade executing the orders of the Septims still alive on the island. "That aside…" He continued, sharing a glance downwards at the red-robed body slumped over a chair. "I think we could do with a few more blades in the hands of allies."

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Meanwhile,

Outwardly the captain of the Blades stared down the Cathay-Raht even as he leaned in to look her directly in the eyes, remaining stoic in her duty to protect her Emperor no matter the cost to herself or those around her. Perhaps it was a poor choice on her part to remind him of his failure even unintentionally so, but she was firm in showing that her intention was only to try and show him the respect she felt he deserved. "Very well then, Kiffar the Unbound." Renault said at last, giving him a slow nod to show she understood well his intentions. And though she went immediately back to directing the Blades under her command… Internally there was still that moment of wondering if she had very nearly died right then and there. She couldn't deny the rather distinct panic welling up in the moment of being that close to a very incensed Cathay-Raht, and the also very distinct understanding that he did not need weapons to rend steel. Thankfully for her nerves, there were two points of interest to draw her attention and that of Kiffar.

Off to the side Yashar al-Rihad the half-Orsimer priest and the officer of the watch had returned with both strongboxes loaded with the belongings of the prisoners. They were sure to see that the appropriate items were returned to their rightful owners, and she did note the distinct midnight-blue color of the Shadowscale shifting off to the side and inspecting his weapons. Another Argonian of a much greener shade was similarly heavily armed, and quite quickly the ragtag group of rioters seemed more akin to a collection of adventurers gathered within the aging passageway. Renault did her best not to openly sneer at the thought of having to rely upon these people, but she was pragmatic enough to recognize that her squad alone may not be able to get their charge safely out of the city on their own. So far these cultists, these assassins to be had shown quite the planning and cunning to have gone so far. Much of it had apparently been achieved by the presence of at least one among the higher echelons of Imperial society, and she had to begrudgingly accept that it was Caddach Thraigyr of all people who had brought it to the attention of the Blades.

Helped of course by exceeding incompetence, arrogance or both on the account of the would-be assassin. Though as the group coalesced into smaller groups of minor conversation, she looked towards the next moves for herself and the Blades under her command. Just down the stairs nearby, the depths of the Imperial sewer system loomed and offered both the idea of safety at the end of a series of tunnels, but also the danger of such a neglected passage.

"Baurus, Glenroy." She began, moving up with the Emperor at her side and just behind her. "Forward advance and clear the way." There was the shuffling of heavy armor and blades drawn as the two men moved to effect her command, making their way down the stairs and cautiously advancing into the next room. Next was her and the Emperor with the remaining masked Blades behind them. Only a sidelong glance towards Kiffar to see if he was to follow was left, her concerns for the rioters ending with the pardons and leaving them in the Cathay-Raht's care. If they followed, they followed and if not then not. Though there was that ever looming sensation that something was off. As if eyes in the dark were watching over their every move and preparing an assault.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

@Simple Unicycle I am all about it, feel free to slide him over to the characters tab and start on your opener at your convenience.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

_{Direct mentions: @LC
Indirect mentions: @Sir Lurksalot@MacabreFox@Spoopy Scary@Stormyx@Quest Abandoner}

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"Buy me a beer later and we'll call it even."

As Yashar bid them well and gave yet another blessing of the Nine, the Emperor himself seemingly finding it urgent to go through this cell in particular, and Khaliya disappearing just as soon as she was provided a way forward, this left Roshanarra alone with her thoughts and a choice to make. It had been the expectation that the man before her would have continued the fight when she was least capable of defending herself, or at the very least to do so verbally. She had braced herself for the consequences of her actions coming once more, a familiar sensation over the years just the same as sudden overwhelming rage. So just the same as he was set off balance by her contrition, so the same it was for her now seeing that he was perfectly willing to let things go. Her coppery features turned towards a bit of a frown, but nodded towards him all the same in acceptance. As soon as they found a way out of this rather precarious situation, she would have to make do on that beer.

For now though, as she watched the dark-scaled figure of one of the Argonians slithering by everyone and down the tunnel, she just barely caught the figure of her sister already joining the rest of the group in the adjacent room. Leaving behind those too uncertain of the corridor ahead, and waiting for the Blades to escort the Emperor ahead of her, she moved into the tunnel and fought off the growing claustrophobia. It was just a matter of focusing her eyes on the back of the masked Blade in front of her, paying no mind to those behind her and within a moment the rest of this impromptu group was gathered in what seemed to her to be a long-forgotten cistern.

The Cathay-Raht Kiffar had done everyone the favor of sweeping the tunnel first, though the leavings of the dust and cobwebs were traipsed into the room by many feet to follow. She kept to the side, giving a slow nod to the larger cat and preferring to keep quiet for the moment. Despite being underground and in rather poorly maintained tunnels, moonlight filtered in through grates above them along with the sounds of distant fighting and people rushing off to try and quell the violence. And by the stance of the Blades about them, it was clear that wouldn't be easily done nor far from them either.

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A secret tunnel. It was a secret tunnel.

Such things were how adventures began, mysterious secret entrances into long-forgotten catacombs. Obviously, the moment there was the opportunity to do so, Khaliya slipped between the more uncertain of her fellow prisoners and followed behind the trio that was the prancing man, his devoted follower and the very much less devoted woman who was very clearly a witch. She hadn't been following their conversation very closely, as the man talked in a confusing manner with quite a few words that she felt could probably be shortened by half and say the same thing. But while others had fallen into despair or a hangover from their unceremonious jailing, this one had kept his spirits fairly high. Maybe they would be interesting to follow along in this strange journey. Just the same as the Bosmer Yarmira and the object of her obsession, Kiffar the Cathay-Raht. Actually, the guy that her sister had nearly knocked through a wall was interesting to her as well, especially as it seemed that he knew at least one of the Blades and was very nearly to start a second round with Rosh.

Khaliya had started the night feeling as if it was just going to be another rather unassuming night of putting her hands where they were very much unwelcome. The Arena fights going very south very fast were an interesting development that became very complicated, and after feeling like she might have to share a cell with a bunch of very unhappy people for the rest of the night, the Emperor himself shows up with his Blades. Granted, she didn't recognize him immediately as the Emperor, but she knew the Blades well enough. At least by reputation. Sure, to many citizens of the Empire they were the ones charged with the protection of the Septims above all else, so she knew like the rest of the group to give them and their charge a respectable amount of personal space.

But for her, in all her studies over the years of swordplay and combat, she knew that they had earned their reputation over centuries. Her silver eyes trained over the shape of those swords, fascinated with the Akaviri style of blade and wondering if she could recreate it with her Shehai. That would have to be something done later though, preferably much later and hopefully without unwelcome eyes upon her. Despite such a gift in her hands and what it could bring, she had found a few times that it was a lot more beneficial to keep such things in her pocket for safe-keeping. If the rest of these people saw her as defenseless, then it could work well in her favor in not making herself out to be a potential threat.

Already the Blades seemed to look past her and focus more on the others gathered in the cistern, most notably the larger members.

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A dream. A dream had told of this night, of a familiar face awaiting him in the depths of darkness. This was to be the final days of an era, and the final hours of his life. Yet not all had come according to the prophecy of his dream, and as Uriel had been taken from his study at the behest of his Blades, it was clear the die had already been cast. Strange faces moved within the walls of the palace, metallic and frozen in a grimace of daedric malice. One by one they were cut down, and one by one the Blades and Palace Guard joined a makeshift formation carving a path towards what they felt was salvation. But he knew. He knew what awaited him in the crumbling catacombs beneath the city. Many of his kin had been slain this night already, his eldest son among them and in public view no less. It was just a shame that he would have to witness his companions here fail to preserve his own life at the end of this journey. Pardoning them for a night of misfortune was but the least he could do, and he hoped that Captain Renault would not hold these poor souls to what they could not prevent.

His eyes wandered over those presented before him once he was safely among his Blades and now joined the now former prisoners in the cistern.

"A day of intended fortune and celebration turned to misfortune and bloodshed." The Emperor said aloud, drawing Renault's attention towards him and instructing the two masked Blades to close ranks.

"With respect sir, the night is not yet done and we've got more than enough fight left in us to get you to safety." Her eyes shifted towards those around them, recognizing that more than a few here were merely just people unfortunate enough to be caught up in the chaos. The Khajiit Kiffar was recognizable at least in name, remembering him called by another title in another time. He had seemed to have fallen far since the death of his Mane, but perhaps…

"Manesguard." She said abruptly, addressing the imposing Cathay-Raht directly and leaving the immediate protection of the Emperor to the rest of her squad. "It seems your path has brought you an opportunity to redeem your name. As you may have noticed, there are assassins pursuing our Emperor and willing to kill anyone and everyone in their path. Can I entrust in you to guide these people out and assist us in seeing the Emperor to safety?"

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Hey-oh

I've been down bad with the flu, so forgive me and my sick brain not functioning properly, but how are we to handle the recent post? Since I just posted the collab with Verena, Isai, and Deia, I don't see a need for a Verena post specifically, but I'm just not sure how to go forward. I have a sneaking suspicion I'm missing something, but I've read the post several times now.

Is this for those who have yet to decide which path they want to take, i.e, go get their belongings, go down the tunnel, or go up?

Sorry again @.@

@MacabreFox

I mean, I suppose if people really want to go up themselves there's not much stopping them, but the intention was to have everyone go on down the tunnel. Yashar and the officer of the watch is to regroup with the party and return everyone's belongings. As said though, Isai/Deia/Verena are good at the moment since you guys just did a collab post, so you're not missing anything lol.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

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Assassins, rioters and now... Drunkards. Captain Elara Renault pinched the bridge of her nose as she considered the circumstances before her. This was supposed to be a secret escape route for the Septims, carefully managed by the watch and ensured to be empty at all times. Yet it seemed as if both Aedra and Daedra conspired against them, for now she had to deal with this lot and her Emperor's damned visions all at the same time. As she had been trained to do, she compartmentalized and prioritized the tasks at hand. With a gesture of her hand she called forward a pair of Blades that had been just out of sight, Akaviri masks hiding their faces and thus leaving their expressions unreadable. "My liege, these two will escort you down the tunnel and to a more secure point." The Emperor frowned over being hurried along, but he understood that necessity was key at this point in the night. Gathering his robes about him, the man shifted through those that remained and followed Kiffar with a Blade in front and behind him. Now Renault looked over the collection before her. A Dunmer woman had requested her belongings, then another of the group and another. The Nord staggered awake and there remained two Orsimer in the cell as well, though one bore an amulet of the Nine and the vestments of a priest.

Turning now to the officers of the watch, she bid one of them forward "Officer, were you the one who oversaw these arrests?"

"Yes, Captain. Myself and Varinus arrested all of them at Daggerfall Dan's, a few mostly just to remove them from the danger of a bar brawl that we believe had already resulted in the fatality of a Bosmer."

"Understood. You have a record of their belongings as well?"

"Of course, Captain. Varinus made sure that separate lockboxes were made for each cell and the contents partitioned appropriately."

"Excellent work, both of you are to retrieve the lockbox with one of the group and make haste to follow down the tunnel."

"Understood, Captain."

To that Renault then turned to the group, and without waiting for a volunteer simply pointed to the most trustworthy of the group she could find and assumed would make an effort to reunite with the group. Yashar al-Rihad, the half-Orsimer priest of the Nine stepped forward as indicated, bidding his sisters to follow down the tunnel and joined with the officers of the watch heading up the stairs. Now Renault had the matter at hand of the remaining group as well as those who had already moved ahead of the Emperor and behind him. This was a pressing issue to handle and quickly, but they had been offered a pardon for the night and most would surely be more than accepting of such a thing. "Let me be clear to each of you, including you Thraigyr. Our business is not to be interfered with, and though you have all been granted a pardon, know that it can be rescinded at any point in time at sword-point. Follow if you must, but be swift."

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

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The brightness of the moons on this night had given way during the intensifying riots to the reddish-orange haze of fires and the beacons lit across the walls of the Imperial City as little by little the Legions struggled to regain order. Yet as smoke filled the night sky and the calls to order sounded over angry citizens, a shift to the atmosphere could be felt as rumor spread like wildfire and fanned the rioters into a panic in the face of the watch. The guards in the prison shifted back and forth as they rested, swapping in and out with each other as some came in from the streets battered and bruised and trying to get a moment of rest before heading back in. Some just wanted a moment to breathe, a moment of relative silence in the wake of so much violence gripping the city.

But the rumor carried even down into the prison proper, the words said before anyone could try and stress the importance of keeping such things to one's self. "Murdered. At his own wedding." A man fresh from the Palace District sat with his back to the wall, blood spattered across his armor from his flight to Legion headquarters. Some of it looked clearly to be his own, a lot more civilian, rioter or otherwise. At first as he said those words, not many paid him much mind, a murder at a wedding was an awful affair but not enough to cause as much destruction as was ongoing. Then another man entered, pulling a dented helmet from his head and tossing it in the corner of the bastion up above. His face was bruised and split where he had clearly chosen to catch a blunt object with his face, though maybe not quite intentional.

His voice carried all the way down to the prison proper, outraged and over his fellow guards trying to calm him. "Dead! All of them!" A commotion sounded from above, and some of the guards down with the prisoners glanced nervously at each other, wondering if they should step in and help, but deciding it was probably best to keep out for now. "Geldall, his traitor-bitch wife, and all the others. People with masks and red robes all over the damn city stabbing anyone and everyone, took a knife just trying to get here." Where before the other cells had been just as packed as their own and rather busy with people arguing their own issues, a silence descended upon them for the first time all night. Hands gripped the bars and a collection of faces leaned in to try and get a look for themselves in disbelief. A soft murmuring, some questioning, others denying, the conversation building all around them as even the guards had their own takes.

Up above there was more shouting and arguing, the man trying to rally a few to go with him to the palace only for panic to set in and the sound of blades clashing. Though the prisoners could not see, it was clear a fight had broken out in the bastion and without any further information it seemed as if the city itself had gone mad. Screams, the sounds of rent flesh and steel, until one voice cut across all others and put some order to the chaos around them.

"Legionnaires! Phalanx!"

A woman's voice, one that may have been familiar to at least one member of the cell, and even if unfamiliar to the others this one was someone clearly in command. Imperial through and through, but with that subtle Breton lean, she needed no further insistence as the guards by the cell pulled together into an impromptu phalanx with a pair up front with shields and the rest drawing their blades and waiting. They need not wait too long, as with a scream of protest, a man in red robes and a black metal mask came cascading down the turn in the corridor, tumbling into the front ranks. Those two up front worked the shields to carry the robed man's momentum, sending him above the six guards in the corridor and into their drawn blades to die behind them. Then another came down, and they shifted to the sides of the corridor to allow the second rank to step forward, plunging their swords into the man's chest and pulling him out through the formation to the back. A third and the sounds of fighting up above went silent, replaced with heavy boots coming down the stairs and more distant shouts.

"Gaius, Titus. You two are with Lady Alexandria, help her rally the Legions and take back the city. Lucia and Marinus, gather whoever is rested enough to mount a defence of the Prison District. Assist Lady Julia with organizing relief and securing the isle."

The guards took several steps back, that same woman coming into view now as she turned to look into the cell, her disappointment clear as well as no small amount of disgust. It was clear that she was very unamused with the people within this cell, though the exact reason why was unclear at the moment. Yet for those who knew… Her armor marked her out as a member of the Blades, but the katana at her side bloodied and the scabbard dented was more than enough for even the most novice of Imperial Citizens to recognize the distinct danger they may be in. The Blades. Here. In the prison. Either someone within the cell had made a rather severe error in who they struck during the riot or-

"If it wasn't for the riot burning the Arena District to the ground, I would be having one or all of you in the interrogation cells to explain this, but we have more important matters at hand." Captain Renault beckoned with her hand and she was joined by two other dour-faced Blades, taking a look back at her charge and ensuring that the corridor was safe for now. The other cells had gone quiet, even Valen Dreth had somehow found it in him to keep his mouth shut and stay out of sight. "Open this cell and get these people out of here. We need through and we need-" Slowly another came into sight, this one not armored like his escorts but they gave him the kind of deference that made it very clear who he was. An older man gray of hair and with a weary expression across his features as he looked into the cell and shared a moment of disappointment with the captain of his Blades. All the more as someone actually asked the question of who the old man was, to which Yashar very quietly told said person in as kind a tone as possible, that they needed to be very quiet and be ready to move when told to.

"The one from my dreams…" Uriel Septim stood before them as the door was quickly unlocked, his Blades stepping in just in case someone decided to make a move they disagreed with. "Elara, this was written in the stars… Today is the day." Captain Renault frowned at this, though she gestured to one of the others to step into the cell and make his way through the throng of people to press at the wall behind Caddach with a brief apology.

"Okay." The other man stepped in to address the group, allowing Renault to guide the Emperor off to the side and to give a clear path up the stairs. "Your Emperor and his Blades is in need of moving through your cell, and in his benevolence is bestowing a pardon of all crimes to each of you, but either move up the stairs or down the tunnel." Baurus nodded to his captain, ignoring her disapproval and opting for expediency in this endeavor, watching a couple already taking advantage and rushing back up the stairs to the relative safety above. "Make your choice, but know there is danger no matter which direction you go."

Spearhead: A modern/near future Special Forces RP (ON HIATUS)

Karishma Jha
_{Time: 27 APR 25
Location: Taniland, Africa}

Much like the others, Karishma paid attention to the details of the operating area as they moved their gear into the rather unassuming safehouse. Just one building out of many, the only thing that would have been of note about it was the rather armed people peering out of it to usher them inside, and of course the operators themselves. She wondered if they were a little too bold about this, but there was a bit of safety in confident obviousness in a way. One by one, each crate of gear was moved into the building and downstairs, and she helped out as if this was something perfectly natural. Maybe the other locals in the neighborhood would assume them to be yet more mercenaries of the Order, some allies of the resistance or unsure enough of who they were to avoid reporting anything to the authorities that be. It was all things beyond her immediate concern though, something for the team leader to think about.

Inside she considered a few breach plans as she filled a bowl and thanked the woman, as a Marine never turned down a bit of food when offered and she knew well enough by now to take advantage of any kind of break in the action. All the better for the food being hot, but she appreciated a good homemade meal over MREs any day of the week. In between bites, she listened in and her view of the others started to consolidate a little more. Zaland was still a good boi, and while she knew it was best to consider him just another operator, having Arsala confirm that for Santi and the rest of the group helped establish things a little more. The Chilean himself had no hesitation towards making his thoughts clear, and she nodded along with him. "Any eyes up top beats having none at all, and I do agree on the power angle here." Karishma stood to head into the kitchen and clean the bowl herself, no use making extra work for their local friends, and then returned back to the group and set to going through her breach-bag to settle on a kit for the op.

"I'll pack a charge just in case we need an emergency exit, but I'll stick to the picks and a couple thermite pens. My personal recommendation will be the side gate for entry. Best case scenario will be that the Order is lax on the street level and the gate will be unlocked, I do like to count on the laziness of our fellow grunts. But if it is secured, then it will tell us a little about their stringency with operational security." In her mind it was a win-win in terms of greater operational intelligence, either they understood the Order as a mess of local untrained militia and hardened mercenaries, or discover early on the extent of their discipline and training. "The garage though... I think we can work that one pretty well depending on patrols. Though depending on how over-stretched the local opfor is we could work a distraction to draw off elements from the station. Honestly, it's your call boss." To that she gave a nod towards Megan, and then towards Juichi as their pointman. "Just point me where to make a hole or what needs destroying."

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

@Paingodsson A little light, but we've talked about it so you're good to go. Just pop him over to the characters tab and make your intro post when you're ready.

@Apollosarcher Alright, you're good to go as well.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

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It was cold, at the very least cold for her and her siblings far from the gentle heat of the Alik'r warming their body and soul. Though they had found a temporary warmth in the inns and taverns of the Imperial City, moving from one to another as their visit slowly extended from just a few days to already weeks just wandering about the districts. It had been her brother's idea to begin with, who had never quite stepped away from the recent conversion enthusiasm of his embracing the Nine Divines. Their journey had taken them across the breadth of Cyrodiil and heading towards the eastern reaches in her never ending pilgrimage, but it seemed that just like always trouble loomed. All it was supposed to be was just a few days of staying around the Arena district, her doing some shifts at the local hotspot and Yashar helping the local gladiators mend their wounds in between plates of food as many tended to do. Day by day it had been pretty good for the two of them, and even her sister was pitching in off and on when there was need for a little extra muscle. Unfortunately though, she provided a bit too much of it this night and now the trio sat in the Imperial City prisons, thankfully together but also rather less so joined by a myriad of other people gathered by the watch.

To sate her idle curiousity she had been looking up towards the Argonians on either side of her, finding out one was a gladiator himself and the other rather more guarded about his background. Talk of their home was a little disappointing for her more worldly interests, finding neither knowing much of actual Blackmarsh, but it was something that still brought a smile to her lips as she was more and more seeing why Yashar had so much faith in the Empire. From beyond the borders of Cyrodiil the provinces seemed intent on doing what they wanted, but here everyone was welcome and everyone had a place. Even herself, someone who had caught a few questioning glances here in the city for her more elven features, but still never once felt out of place even while wandering completely lost in the city. It was as if the vision of the Empire was alive and well here in this cell, Argonians, a Dunmer, Bretons, Orcs, Redguard and the grinding of metal on metal announced a Khajiiti visitor to their group. Now that was one thing that quite easily ceased the young woman's questions, something that not even the shit-drinker did for more than a brief pause.

Kiffar as he was called, so large as to stoop under the entrance to the cell and give the guards outside a moment of consideration regarding their career choice. She had never known that Khajiit could even get so large, though her brother had told her stories of how different their people were depending upon the phases of the moon. Yet still... He was bigger than Yashar by a fair margin, something the half-orsimer man felt rather obvious as the giant weaved his way effortlessly through the throng of people to take a seat near the back. Only a slight hiss as a dark-scaled Argonian basically slithered out of the way and affixed the giant cat with a glare for his efforts. Bold, Khaliya thought, but she remembered that one as one of the people to have actually participated eagerly in the brawl in the tavern, so perhaps that particular Argonian knew something she didn't.

But friendly or unfriendly as the third lizard-man in the cell was, she had two to either side who despite being rather massive and intimidating were at the very least open to conversation. With as few words as the cat-man offered, he joined in with them quite easily though and she felt it would be inappropriate not to introduce herself in turn. "Hello Kiffar, I am Khaliya." As respect to the two Argonians she had been pestering, she offered her hand in turn to each of them as way of introductions, and to her fellow Redguard opposite her even if he was clearly one of the Forebears. "That's Yashar." Her brother nodded slowly in turn, still the rather uncanny but friendly smile greeting all those who turned his way. "He's my older brother. Well, half-brother but I don't really see much of a difference." A shifting on the stone bench to lean forward a little and her attention was brought to Caddach as he introduced himself and went over the events of the night that led him to be right there opposite her in this cell. Events that might very nearly have not permitted him to be sitting where he was if her sister had her way, though as she introduced Yashar as her brother that led to the very obvious implications. And she was quite conscious of that as it came to mind that it had been her wrist he had grabbed in the brawl as she had withdrawn his wallet from his pocket, and thus earned him the beating of three lifetimes. So maybe some apologies were in order, though more so on the part of her sister who-

There was a moment of silence as some of the other cellmates to join them slowly turned to regard the sound of metal grinding against stone and bear witness to yet another rather concerning development for their particular ten by six cell. With all the commotion, introductions, story-making and shit drinking, Roshanarra was becoming more and more irate with the situation. Rage boiled within her blood, the beating of distant drums of war sounding and she could feel the war-wind building as each moment passed. With a motion of her hands, she rolled her wrists so that she gripped the manacles binding her to the wall tight and started flexing with every bit of Orcish muscle she had. The dark-scaled Argonian noticed first, and Khaliya swore he turned a lighter shade as once more he decided that he should be anywhere except where he was sat. Then came the grinding, the creaking of metal protesting greatly at being bent in ways it shouldn't. A pair of guards slowly leaned in to watch as Roshanarra pulled the bolts fully from the stone wall and gruffly tore the mask from her face to reveal the bloodied tusks that had almost earned one man a visit to the temple.

And that was nearly where things would have gotten back to the brawl except for a hand on her shoulder, Yashar leaning in to offer his support and slowly the war-wind began to fade. She could hear the distant disappointment of Malacath echoing into the back of her mind, and then a smaller hand reaching out to gently touch her on the knee, and there was her sister, the only one aside from their mother that could pull her from those blood-stained depths and she gave a slow nod as she eased back against the wall and let the chains rattle against the stone. One crisis averted for her siblings, but she could see the look in her little sister's eyes and the slow direction towards the Breton boy battered and bruised from her actions back in Daggerfall Dan's. From rage to shame, she saw the damage wrought upon him and the anger in his eyes, fixing upon her like the animal she had indulged herself to become. And for that moment she felt a brief flickering of the war-wind trying to stoke her back into action, to violence no matter the consequences.

But she was not an animal, nor was she beholden to the whims of a prince who punished his people for sins not their own. So when she spoke, it was without the expected guttural growl befit of many Orsimer, but more of a dulled accent of Shimmerene, the City of Lights and her mother's home. "Roshanarra." She introduced herself to those listening, which considering her role in the brawl and how she entered into the conversation now would surely be more than a few. And then her gaze turned towards Caddach, fixing him with those amber hues and giving a slow nod of contrition. "I... Am sorry for trying to kill you. I will not apologize for the Altmer though." That one was more pointed towards her brother, who had chided her on throwing a man out of a window, but did bring a bit of levity as Khaliya laughed aloud despite the misfortune.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

@spicykvnt Alright, went over it again and I feel it's in a decent enough place for an approval from me, so you're good to shift Deia over to the characters tab.

@Apollosarcher Just let me know when you've effected the edits and we'll circle back.

Otherwise, some excellent posts so far, if I have time I might do up a proper Khaliya post in the next day or so. Depends on how things go lmao.