I just hope we get a nice spread of species and classes and personalities!
Amaranth Member
the Kasaanda
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Bio
I am Amaranth, witch of the wilds. Through shadow and legend I walk, haunting mortals like you. So... Are you a vulture , I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into this darkspawn filled page of mine in search of... a bio?
Most Recent Posts
SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!! Here is the OOC!
A Mass Effect Story
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟏𝟖𝟒
𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝.
Only a year has passed since Saren’s attack on the Citadel. The recovery has been quick, though damage to the Citadel is still being repaired. Life for many will never be the same after having lost family and friends to Saren’s Geth, and a few scattered clusters of Geth still remain. It was during the hunt for one of these clusters that the Human Spectre, Commander Shepard, was killed.
But business in the Terminus Systems continues as normal.
Mostly indifferent to the politics of Citadel Space, little has changed since the short war against the Geth. Admittedly, some business has dried up - without the fear of Geth, the demand for weapons and mercs has gone down. But the Terminus Systems are hardly ever stable, being a “coalition” of independents outside of Citadel Space. While your neighbor might not be afraid of Geth today, he’ll be afraid of his neighbor by tomorrow. Mercs step on one another’s toes, power plays are made, and entire planets hinge on going unnoticed by one of the more powerful entities out here. The lack of regulation means most anything goes, and for the right price, you can drop the “most”.
𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖
Mercenaries and Omega. They go together like a Krogan and infertility. The Terminus Systems are fraught with conflict and disunity - each squabble representing an opportunity to earn some creds. For those with the nerves and the entrepreneurial eye, the Terminus Systems are the perfect place to make your own destiny as a hired gun, and Omega is the Crown Jewel. That’s how you ended up here. Sort of. Perhaps you got tired of the rules and regs of military life. Maybe you just had a rifle and a set of dangerously loose morals. Maybe both. Regardless, you set out to make your fortune as a merc in the Terminus Systems.
For some, the cold war with the Council means uncertainty and danger, especially with holdouts of Geth still making travel dangerous. For others, it means great opportunity. You are the latter. Business is good, even as a freelancer. Corps and private entities are always looking for more discreet actors to carry out their wetwork. Perhaps in between jobs you raid merchant freighters for extra credits on the side, or maybe you take more legitimate work as a ‘Consultant’ for a colony. Lately though, things had been in a bit of a dry spell. Maybe that’s why you took this job. Maybe you thought it would be fun. Whatever your reason for accepting, the minute the small converted freighter took off, you had a bad feeling about this.
You're a freelance merc on a routine mission that takes you into Citadel space, but what's this? Banned from Citadel space AND a bounty on your head? For a crime you didn't commit? Looks like there's only one place for you. Omega. The galaxy's favourite lawless asteroid habitat. Maybe there you can get a nice glass of ryncol and a shot of neon and clear your name. And earn some credits, lots and lots of credits.
This roleplay revolves around a small mercenary squad based out of Omega. It’s hardly a choice - work and hope to survive, or be sold into slavery (or worse, thrown into the hands of Citadel bureaucrats who don’t know your side of the story). As missions are completed and the band grows in renown, their luck begins to turn. More renown means more connections, which means you can track down the bastard who burned you.
The party itself is expected to come from different walks of life, whether it be a Vorcha from the lower rungs of Omega trying to make a name for himself before he dies, or an Asari Commando who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That being said, let’s save the Keepers and Geth for a different time.
Considering the time frame, Reapers are a distant rumor that’ll pin you as a conspiracy theorist. Collectors are little more than rumors to those who aren’t human colonists in the far rungs of the Terminus Systems. Hate for Cerberus is pronounced (especially among the Quarians), and the ambitious actions of Humanity are met with mixed feelings across the galaxy. Archangel is popping mercs like pimples, and paranoia within the three major players (Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack) are in full swing as he and his crew tamper with operations.
𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒
- Don’t godmod. Pretty simple. Metagaming also falls under this category. Basically treat things with some form of realism. There’s no real reason to powergame or min-max in a co-op medium like RPing. It’s for fun, not to win!
- Keep races and technology career, setting, and narrative appropriate. Sorry that means no Geth characters. Same goes for Collectors and Yahg and all that jazz. As for tech, just make it relatively grounded. It’s unlikely that a freelancing merc would be lugging around a Blackstorm or Cain. Also no super outlandish stuff like Geth Pulse Rifles or Collector weapons at all. Sorry but yeah just no.
- Make your character a fully realised person with strengths and weaknesses! This goes hand in hand with powergaming stuff. RPing isn’t just about winning, it’s fun to have a character who absolutely sucks at some things and excels at others. Maybe they have an irrational fear or a weakness for cash or a strict moral compass.
- Keep the classes to the six basic ones. Yes I know the Awakened Collectors are cool. No you can’t play one.
- Be active! I reeaally don’t want to set a strict posting deadline but you should be active in either OOC or Discord or IC within a few days. If you start holding up the RP we’ll be forced to kick you for the sake of the other players. If you need to take a hiatus, just let us know. Your character can just take a backseat and it’s way less rude than just disappearing on us and potentially holding up the RP for the other players.
- Premade characters are fine just edit them into the format that we use. If you are concerned just ask first.
- It’s a Mass Effect game so romance and violence is expected, even encouraged. Just keep it to the levels found in the game. Fade to black basically.
- Last one. Please be nice. Or I’ll renegade interrupt you out of the RP.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒
Name: Self-explanatory. What do they call themselves? Can include nicknames.
Race: No ‘exotic’ races, e.g. Yahg, Geth, Collectors, Raloi, etc. Less-exotic but more outlandish races such as Elcor and Hanar require serious discussion.
Gender: Whichever they identify as.
Class: Soldier, Engineer, Adept, Infiltrator, Sentinel, or Vanguard
Age: How old are they?
Homeworld: Where they were born. Can be homeship if they are a spacer or Quarian.
Appearance: Description or picture. Either is fine. Make the description detailed though.
Psychological Profile: What are they like? What do they like? What don’t they like? What are their goals and hopes and dreams? What sets them off? Any quirks? Etc
Equipment: What do they use? Includes weapons, armour, special tech (assume everyone has an omnitool), etc
Abilities: 3-5 is a good number. You can pick any of the skills Shep has access to in the games. If it’s an MP power or one only a squadmate has access to ASK FIRST. Stimulant packs and stuff are lowkey and fine but if it’s too crazy it’s out. Also this is purely combat abilities, stuff like hacking and decryption or demolitions training or piloting skills can get listed elsewhere.
Bio: What’s their life story? Should be well-developed. It doesn’t need to cover their entire life from birth/hatching/crawling out of the underworld to right now but it should cover all of the formative events that turned them into the being they are today. Keep in mind that characters from Citadel Space are those who are initially affected by the inciting incident.
Strengths: What are they good at?
Weaknesses: What are they not good at?
Misc: This section is free to be whatever you want it to be. Got a theme? Slap it here. Allergies? Can go here too.
Feel free to get creative and fancy with the formatting, just keep it in the same order as above. I’m horrible at formatting so whatever you come up with will look nicer so have fun!
Discord server!
Also yeah this probably enough people so I’ll start work on an OOC when I get home from work tomorrow morning.
Obligatory expression of interest.
Shut up you’re the co-gm.
Do you like high-tech, low-life adventures in the seedy underbelly of galactic space?
Do you like tales of revenge?
Do you like mass effect fields?
The year is 2184 CE. Saren has been defeated, Shepard has been killed.
You're a freelance merc on a routine mission that takes you into Citadel space, but what's this? Banned from Citadel space AND a bounty on your head? For a crime you didn't commit? Looks like there's only one place for you. Omega. The galaxy's favourite lawless asteroid habitat. Maybe there you can get a nice glass of ryncol and a shot of neon and clear your name. And earn some credits, lots and lots of credits.
Anyway in this RP you will be taking the role of a mercenary in the Terminus systems, and for the time being, on Omega. The main overarching narrative will be concerned with the mystery of who framed you and why, but you'll have the opportunity to choose sidejobs that may or may not have an effect on the mainplot but will have an effect on your bank accounts. I think this works best with a smaller group so I'll say 4-6 players.
Hopefully I didn't forget anything, but if I did feel free to ask!
Working on a cs!
I’m interested!
13th of Midyear - Noon - The Three Crowns Hotel
Gilane
Midday in Gilane was often the same, as Raelynn had come to notice. There was a certain bustle and business that was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Giant pans and skillets of food would be thrown onto hot fires behind food stalls and scents would permeate the air one by one. Saffron, garlic, paprika, chilli. She had grown accustomed to this. It was as if she need not look to a clock now, but pay attention to her nose to know that it was time for a meal. She weaved in and out of the crowds purposefully to the Three Crowns Hotel, wearing calf-length satin trousers in shades of cream and gold and a linen cropped shirt in a rich plum colour - she looked every part a Lady of Hammerfell.
With everything that had happened, it was easy to believe that the party had been here for weeks or months, but truthfully, it hadn’t been that long at all, and yet each day felt like an eternity. Does everyone else feel the slowing of time, too? She thought to herself as she ascended the staircase to the room she had shared with the girls. With Jude, Rhona, Mazrah, and… Daro’Vasora.
It had been a lifetime since she herself had been here.
She pushed open the door gingerly, not knowing if anyone would be inside. She only wanted to collect some of her things. A small knife, a bowl. Just things. Things she could have easily replaced, things that held no sentimental value to her - and yet, she didn’t look to her lockbox when she entered the room. Her steel blue eyes fell immediately onto the space where Daro’Vasora used to sleep. They observed the absence of the Khajiit. The way the bed sheet was still a little crumpled from where she hadn’t quite pulled it tightly into the board when she made it, the pillow still had the indent of her head. Some of her things sat on the table beside the futon - an empty glass, a plate. Just things that highlighted that Daro’Vasora was still gone.
Thoughts lingered on the morning that they had all bickered amongst themselves. She had been embarrassed and annoyed then - how she wished that mornings like that could have been the worst of her time in Gilane. She approached the bed pensively and placed her fingertips against the sheet, before whispering under her breath, “they’re going to get you out of there…” She knew it wouldn’t be her, she wouldn’t be part of Latro’s rescue team. Not in her state. She ran her fingers over the sheet once more before leaving it at last, making her way to her lockbox in the corner. It was then that she heard the soft footsteps of someone approaching…
Shakti had been so caught up in her own little world she had almost plowed into the open door. The young Redguard girl was running her hands along the rough wall as she walked along, staring off into space. She had made a habit of doing laps of the hotel grounds to keep herself from getting cooped up in her tiny room. If she let herself do only what she wanted, she knew that is what would happen. So she forced herself to take walks. Usually she would find someone to talk to or some sort of trouble to get into, but lately there was a tinge of darkness in her normally sunny heart. Something about being lied to and then being forced to be around the man who had caused her quest to avenge her father to stall so badly. It just… it just.. It was hard to deal with, okay?
She had tried to sew up her other tunic but she had quickly become frustrated and given up, just throwing on her other tunic and walking out in a huff. Both of them were equally er, loved (tattered) but the other one was made of a nicer cloth and so the fact it had been cut during her duel annoyed her further. Both of them were earth-coloured and loose-fitting tunic that had no sleeves and exposed her mocha skin and rather-scarred-for-a-teenager-arms.
The open door shook Shakti out of her reverie and she peered into the open room, not quite knowing what she was looking at. It was a rather lived-in room with a single occupant; a pale woman doing something to a bed. “Are… you looking for something?” Shakti asked, against the wishes of her brain. Unfortunately for her brain and its bad mood, sociability was in her nature and the words came naturally.
Suddenly disturbed by the presence, Raelynn pulled herself from her deep thoughts and she glanced over to the doorway, she looked the girl who stood there up and down. The new Redguard girl. She didn’t know a great deal about her. What was her name - she had heard it spoken at the party, but that was all muffled noise and drunken revelry. Shhhhh something. She narrowed her eyes in concentration before speaking, “I’m just collecting some things… I’ll be leaving soon,” her hands took out the items from the bottom of the chest, and she began placing them into her satchel one by one. Empty bottles, floral sprigs, and pouches of beetle scrub - ingredients. The girl was stood there still, and Raelynn once again narrowed her eyes in her direction, “can I help you with something?” She sighed, a long exhalation of air to show her impatience.
“No, it’s just that I do not think we’ve met.” Shakti wasn’t in the mood for introductions, not really, not now, but a small voice in the back of her head (probably her mother’s) told her that she should not project her own bad mood onto others. So Shakti dutifully pressed on with her introduction. “I’m Shakti, of the Alik’r.” Sands take you Mother, why did you raise me to be so polite? It’s clear that this woman is not in the mood to talk, so just disengage and walk away. “I just thought it would be rude if I didn’t at least tell you my name after seeing you twice now.”
She listened to the young girl with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Why, she couldn't have been older than twenty. “I see…” cooed Raelynn, her voice suddenly soft. “Well Shakti, it's nice to meet you. My name is Raelynn.” She was done packing up her satchel and so she rose to her feet slowly. Shakti was much taller than her, but her youthful demeanour diminished any chance of the Breton being intimidated by her size. She moved back over to Daro'Vasora's bed once more, she knew in her heart that she wouldn't be allowed back here. “Say, Shakti - would you care to help me collect her belongings?”
Shakti found the woman’s sudden change in tone of voice to be more than a little unnerving, nonetheless she couldn’t rightly refuse a request for help. “It is so lovely to meet you Raelynn. It would be my pleasure to help. It is the least I could do. I’ve only just met this company, I’m sure her presence is greatly missed by all of you.” She entered the room and strode over to the area that, judging by the amount of hair everywhere, must have belonged to the Khajiiti woman. Shakti had no idea what kind of possessions a tomb-raiding cat person would, well, possess and so looked over to Raelynn for guidance.
“Truth be told, I am not entirely certain what it is that she owns… Can't say I ever had reason enough to care. I suppose I shall start,” her hands tugged at the handle of the drawer, although it appeared to be so full with something that it was wedged shut, “here.” With it open just a crack, she slipped her fingers in and felt the recognisable leather cover of a book which she pushed down, springing the drawer open. “Well it appears she likes to write,” Raelynn stated as she took out several journals that had been stowed away. “So tell me, Shakti, how did you come to be with us? Or better yet, do you feel that you will stick around?”
“I joined the cause when some of your comrades freed me from Dwemer imprisonment. I hate the thought of my homeland being ruled by an elven empire. My grandparents fought the Dominion when they invaded and I feel it is my duty to fight the Deep Elves in turn.” She held her tongue for a moment, unsure of whether it was wise to share her other, more personal reason, “I also think the Dwemer are somehow tied up in the death of my Father, and it is something I intend to find out. On my own time, of course. I could never ask another to assist me in such a selfish task.” The last line was somewhat of a bending of the truth. In reality, Shakti felt like to ask someone else for help would almost be cheating. That to ask someone to walk her path with her would go against the spirit of the entire journey. Was that true? She didn’t know. The young Redguard pulled out various strange objects from drawers and packs that littered Sora’s living area and examined them, wondering where they should go and if they were even hers to begin with.
Raelynn actually listened to the girl, taking a seat at the foot of the bed with Sora's journals in her lap, thumbing the pages - but she was neither peering or reading them. Hearing the young girl tell her story did tug at her. If Shakti believed her father's death was the result of the Dwemer, then her loss was incredibly fresh. “I'm sorry to hear about your father. You know, I often think that there is no greater duty than that to our family. It's very honourable of you, but a heavy burden to carry alone wouldn't you agree?” She tilted her head to the side, loose strands of hair slipping from the grip of her hairpin.
“I cannot lie, it is a heavy burden, and I am often not sure how to proceed. But I am the oldest, I must do this. It’s like you said, it is my duty to my family.” Shakti shrugged and stared at a heavily marked map of some place that she did not recognise. She flipped it many times to try and figure out the correct orientation. “I came to Gilane in search of a knight that served in the same order as my father. He knows something but I haven’t been able to question him properly. He’s the reason I ended up in a Deep Elf prison.” The memory made her forearm scar itch slightly and she rubbed it unconsciously.
The Breton nodded along with Shakti's story. She was so young, and yet so set on a path for vengeance, with the burden sitting on her shoulders. It was horrifying and amusing all at the same time. A quick smile curled up on her lips, and disappeared as quickly as it had come on. “How has your journey alone gone so far?” She asked, the sweet voice returning and her fingers stroking the spine of the journal in her lap. “Forgive me, but, you were captured once already were you not?”
“It has gone okay, all things considered. I haven’t made much progress but I could be dead. And yes, I was captured a few days before I met your company.” Come to think of it, that was pretty much the only time she had been in major trouble in a big city. Most of the other trouble she had been in had been with bandits or wild animals in the deserts. She had only been in Gilane for a month maybe, but she already missed the wide expanse of the Alik’r. Cities were so claustrophobic sometimes.
“I see.” She sighed sharply, getting up from the bed. She walked back over to the table and began to pile up each of the journals. She wanted so badly to read one, just a look, a glance. Anything to give her some insight into the Khajiit’s mind, but she didn’t - and only because she would hate for someone to read her own. “Do you think that you will continue with the group then?” She ask, looking into the girls eyes, in genuine wonder of her answer. She seemed to have a personal mission, unlike the rest of the group. “Most of them were all together at the start, before I wound up with them. I just got swept along for the ride… Perhaps you’re going to be caught in the riptide of it all too.”
“I…” Shakti caught her words and stopped to think her answer over. “I think my task aligns with the group, at least loosely. I can do the investigation part on my own, the others don’t need to help with that. But either way I won’t let the Dwemer occupy my home, and I do need help with that. So for now, I do not see any reason to part with the group.”
“We need more fighters - for the rescue, to travel with us. I'm not a fighter see…” Raelynn could tell that even under the baggy clothing that Shakti was lithe - and had the body of an acrobat, and that even at her age she would be a skilled warrior. “You have a fighter's spirit, don't you? Why, I think that you Redguards are born with it. But, never be afraid to ask for help, it doesn't make you weak.” Raelynn paid close attention to the girl, staring at her scars - she wondered just where they had all come from. “Besides, just about everyone in this company is far too curious for their own good, far too eager to help each other, and just much too interested in causes and duty, to pass up any opportunity to get involved in anything they should probably keep their noses out of…”
Shakti laughed a light, fluttery laugh at Raelynn’s last comment, even though she had no idea if the other woman was being humorous. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. I don’t mind it, not really. It is nice to not do everything alone, sort of.” She was still getting used to being around so many strangers. All her life she had spent either with her tribe, all of whom she knew very well, or alone, travelling. “Though, I have to ask. If you aren’t a fighter, what are you?” The idea that such a question might be offensive suddenly blasted its way into her mind. “Er, not that there is anything wrong with not being a warrior.” Pretty much all Redguards knew at least the basics of fighting, so the idea someone would know nothing was a bit shocking to the girl.
“I’m a healer and alchemist. I can patch up a wound without much thought, brew you a potion to boost you, but… I’m not much use front and centre fighting anyone. Unless that fight involves giving someone a dressing down - then maybe I stand a chance against the best of them…” There was humour in her tone, but a tinge of sadness too. Raelynn wished she was a better fighter - if only she was she might have been able to do more, and have been able to protect herself better recently. To protect Gregor, and Daro’Vasora too. She looked at Shakti with a smile, they were from completely different worlds. “But… You should stay with us, Shakti. Like I said, we can always use another sword, and we need all the help we can get to free Daro’Vasora.”
“I will stay. I do not mind lending my sword to such a righteous cause. Healing is a noble pursuit, you should be proud. Without healers such as yourself, I’m sure I would be dead three times over.” The girl laughed, but it was probably true. Shakti turned back to the pile of Sora’s things and started once again picking through them. “So where are you from, Raelynn the Healer?” She was dressed like a cosmopolitan Redguard woman, but it was obvious from the way she was sweating that she was not from here.
Raelynn smiled at Shakti, she certainly seemed like she was noble in her own intention too. “I'm from Daggerfall, but I spent a lot of time in Skyrim… Winterhold and Windhelm, and then in places like Riften. A truly beautiful province, and I do miss it actually…” She sighed, longing for the wilds of Skyrim again, the thick forest and deep snow, the chill on her skin, to be wrapped in furs. “Seems like so long ago now. That's what happens when you get older, time feels shorter and it slips away. I'm not old by any stretch, but you should enjoy your youth Shakti, don't let it run away from you while you're off chasing revenge.”
“I’ve heard so much about Skyrim recently. Seems like so many of your company are from there. I would like to trade dunes of sand for drifts of snow some day. It sounds so beautiful!” Shakti tried to picture what Skyrim would look like, but she had never seen snow, so it was fairly difficult. On the other hand, she would love to spend more time lazing around and enjoying the fruits of youth, but alas the young Redguard knew she couldn’t. Not while her father’s killer still lived. Maybe someday.
“It's wonderful. A wild place, far from where I was raised and yet it is very much my home. Hammerfell is a lovely place but, I'm afraid it's beauty has been tainted for me. There's so much blood amongst the sands…” Her gaze fell to the doors to the balcony, and she remembered standing there admonishing Mazrah and Daro'Vasora. She wanted to smile, but she couldn't manage it this time, and sadness sat in her eyes instead. “Such is life. It waits for no one and shows us no mercy, I suppose.”
“That is part of Hammerfell’s beauty, Raelynn the healer.” Shakti made a wide sweeping gesture as she continued her impassioned speech, “We have been fighting to protect this land that we call home ever since my people first arrived on the shores. First from Goblins, Orcs, and Men. Then the Empire, and even recently against the Dominion. Hammerfell is beautiful because of what we have sacrificed to make it our own! And I also really like the dunes at sunset.” The Redguard woman sheepishly turned back to sorting Sora’s stuff, slightly embarrassed at how passionate a speech she had just given.
As she listened to Shakti’s impassioned speech she was reminded of something that Judena had said in this very room, about the energy of youth. It made her smile, and she looked up at Shakti as warmth returned to her eyes. “I suppose you're right.” She stood slowly, and gathered Sora's belongings together at last. She considered the innocence of Shakti, her youthful nature and spirit. She had witnessed terrible things, but zest still remained, and she wondered if she could dig deep enough to find some of her own too. If it was still there - with people like Shakti around, perhaps enthusiasm and passion could be contagious once more. “It has been lovely to meet you Shakti… I'm glad you will travel with us, truly.” She thought about placing a hand on the girl, or giving her any kind of touch of appreciation, but she made her way to the door instead, things in hand.
“Remember,” she began as she turned once more to face the girl, “if ever you should need our help… Let us help you. You need only ask.” She smiled again, and motioned with her head to the bags, “thank you for this. Daro'Vasora will appreciate it, I promise.”
“I will do that. Water and shade to you, Raelynn the Healer.” Shakti gave a small wave as she said the traditional Alik’r greeting/farewell. A small part of her hoped she wouldn’t need to ask for help, but a larger part of Shakti knew she would need all the help she could get.
8th of Midyear, 4e208
Outside the Gaptooth Grin Tavern
Gilane, Hammerfell
And the moons cast light upon blades...
It was Sevari’s experience that every city on the face of Tamriel had a slum. He was born in one in Torval and lived his childhood life in one in Senchal. Now, at the age of 43, it seemed like he couldn’t escape the grip of these places. He’d had more septims than he knew what to do with for doing the Empire’s thankless dirty work and no time and nowhere to spend it. He supposed he’d have just that if he decided to put in for a desk job in some Penitus Oculatus bureau in High Rock, but even if he wasn’t chasing vengeance he knew being cooped up in an office would only make him turn his blade on himself.
It was because of this that sitting out front of a lonely tea shop with a decent vantage point down the street of a seedy tavern that wasn’t any different than any other seedy tavern outside of Gilane, he felt most at peace. All he had to do was wait for Farukh to give the signal after leaving just behind this Khesh fellow. An easy enough night if Farukh didn’t run afoul of some group of outlaws for doing them the powerful slight of existing in their presence. For the short time he’d been partnered with Farukh, the man’s loud mouth and cheeky temperament helped him none on that front. He turned and glanced at the grim-faced Imperial dressed in the local garb just like himself. Quintus was everything Farukh wasn’t. That also meant he was a shitty conversationalist.
“You sure we should’ve sent Farukh in there and not you?” Sevari asked.
“Mhm.” Quintus grunted.
Sevari pursed his lips, that was the most he’d heard out of Quintus since they’d met at the rendezvous point a few hours ago. Sevari shrugged, “Alright, then.”
It was a few wordless moments after that an armored man with a wicked looking sword stepped out of the tavern and into the streets, walking in the opposite direction of Sevari and Quintus. Farukh followed soon after and raised the bottle of rum he’d had, laughing loud into the night. No doubt he’d actually had some of it while in there. Sevari wordlessly rose from his seat and pursued the man who was apparently Khesh. He’d have to make this quick, it wouldn’t be long before his cover-duty of being a Dwemer Secret Police lackey would call upon him to do something. He passed Farukh, who slurred out a giggle and nodded at him. Khesh was a good distance in front of Sevari, he didn’t want the man noticing he was following.
Shakti too had tracked the armoured man, following his powder-blue cloak as it billowed in the night breeze. She had followed him, yet again, on one of his pub crawls. This time, however, she was not about to confront him in a tavern. She rubbed the scar on her forearm as the memory of the battle slipped into her mind. She had trailed him from a distance and loitered outside each tavern, periodically peering into the establishments to make sure he hadn’t slipped her. Her own tattered cloak was wrapped around her face like a scarf, partially to hide her face, and partially to keep the cold night air out of it. Shakti had no idea how many dive bars and lounges and corner-clubs there were in Gilane, but this man seemed to know all of them. She needed to find a place to make her move, to find out what he knew.
The door to the tavern swung open and her mark exited, swaggering along, smelling of alcohol and sweat. Shakti pressed herself against the stone of the building, willing her body to become inconspicuous. She had no idea if the man had gotten a good look at her the last time they crossed blades, but she wasn’t about to take a chance. The knight did not notice her and passed further into the street, followed a few seconds later by another patron who was brandishing a bottle and chortling heartily. Shakti ignored the other man and focused on her target, sliding slowly along the shadows of the other buildings.
Sevari so far had followed unimpeded, eyes scanning the rooftops, windows and the streets before him in between keeping them square on Khesh’s back. Almost suddenly, Khesh rounded a corner into an alleyway, quick enough to give Sevari pause. He looked around the streets, every second more precious than the last. He grit his teeth and decided to follow directly. Had he been noticed? Turning in to an alleyway was a sure way to draw out any tails one might have, but if he was to nab Khesh and figure out his connection to the Caliph’s sons and the plot to put them on the throne again, he was going to have to dive headfirst into this trap.
It wasn’t the first time he’d stumbled through a shit situation armed and armored only with hope. He ducked into the alleyway to find a nice hideaway. A small hut had been fashioned into a makeshift bedroom and a fire was already going just outside of it, stoked by a balding but sinewy-muscled and sharp-featured Redguard.
Who noticed him almost immediately. “You were followed!?”
Khesh flinched and looked back just in time to see the firebolt cross the distance between the man who’d casted it and the air where his companion had been, the ball of flame passing close enough to singe his face and discomfort his eyes. Surprisingly agile, the balding man beared down on Sevari. The man leapt toward Sevari, unsheathed his sword and made a slash for Sevari’s belly in one smooth and lightning fast movement. With a lifetime of drills and real-world experience behind him, Sevari half-drew his sword from his scabbard just in time for the man’s blade to rake across it instead of his stomach in unthinking reflex. Sevari’s blade cleared the rest of its scabbard, pommel striking the bald man in the teeth and sending him back spitting blood.
Without any time in-between, Sevari sent a thrust off-course from his chest with the flat of his blade, in the same motion redirecting his own sword’s trajectory and opening the man’s neck in a spew of arterial spray that spattered his face and neck like a warm rain. Almost in the same moment, Khesh’s blade was coming at him quick, whistling through the night air, Sevari throwing himself out of the way and putting his palm out before him. A brilliant flash of light blinded Khesh and sent him clumsily swiping at nothing with frenzied and ugly cuts at the air. Sevari now free of the danger, he stepped forward and batted through the most telegraphed swing of a sword he’d ever seen with his own blade. Grabbing up Khesh’s arm and wrenching it over his shoulder, he threw Khesh over him almost effortlessly, knocking the wind from him. Before Khesh’s eyes could readjust to the dark night, a bolt of lightning took the last of the fight out of him, leaving him sprawled and twitching on the ground but alive. Sevari spat off to the side, sniffling and flicking the blood from his blade, “I thought you lot were supposed to be dangerous.”
In a moment almost as quick as the lightning he’d let loose earlier, his shoulders pinched back and he looked over his shoulder at the soft patter of footsteps.
There were flashes of light, grunts, scrapes, the clash of swords. Clearly, something had gone wrong. She had noticed the man she was tracking duck into an alley, followed by another man. Then a shout. That’s when the fighting began. Shakti picked up the pace, not willing to let her quarry die without at least telling her what she needed to know.
She skidded to a stop outside the alley and peered at the scene that lay before her. Two men lay on the ground, one clearly dead, red pooling at his neck. The other, her target, seemed merely incapacitated. A third man stood, wiping the blood from his blade. “Hey!” Shakti called out, “That man has a lot to answer for, I will not let you kill him!” She puffed the words out in to the cold night air. She had no idea if the other man was going to kill the Knight, but she was not about to give him the chance. She stood, her hand on the hilt of her sword, waiting for the man to make his move.
Slow as slow, Sevari turned, blade oriented with the point towards the ground and in one hand. He eyed up the girl before him, nothing new to him, honestly. He’d seen every fighter and every assassin there was to see in the twenty-odd years of his life he’d spent mingling among them. His eyes caught on the sword though. It was a thing more elegant, less curved and a blade thinner in breadth than a scimitar. It was a blade closer to the one he used.
And that was all the difference.
It remained to be known if she could use it though. Deciding time was of the essence rather than the much tempting test of his skills against her otherwise unspoken of ones, he spoke simply and plainly, “Put the sword back in its scabbard.” He let a beat pass, considering her in her stance, “Walk away from this.”
Shakti watched him turn around. He seemed calm. Like a sand-viper ready to strike. It reminded her that she needed to watch her own breathing. Control. “I cannot do that. Not unless you are going to hand over that man, alive, to me.” She flexed her hand on her hilt, left hand around the scabbard, coiling her muscles to draw. The cold breeze fluttered her tattered scarf and she exhaled a few deep breaths into the chilly night air through the material.
He knew better to charge at her blindly. Anyone who wielded a sword of that make, he learned long ago, should be approached cautiously. After all, to how many had he proven that to when they stepped to him with violence in mind? With the pace of a glacier, he shifted one foot just a little more behind him, legs sinking into a loose stance and ready to either pounce in and close the distance as quickly as he could or dance away from a strike this girl could try him with. The breeze sent a chill through him, making him sigh. The point of his sword rose from the ground ever so slowly until he had it behind him, held in a high guard. The length of the blade held at an angle so as not to reveal its true length, its true reach.
The sound of the crickets were all that broke the heavy silence of the moment, but it did nothing to ease the tension. The moons lit up her blade beautifully, shadows from the fire playing with the lines of her face. Even now, he was reading her every move, and he’d no doubt she was doing the same.
“I think you know I can’t do that.” He spoke low, eyes never breaking from hers, searching for any tell or any sign she might strike. “Whatever answers you need from him, I’d be more than happy to pass along once I’m through.”
“I really wish you had a better answer.” Came her reply, sword twirling in the cold night air. Finally she settled on an idea. She would test his spirit and have her own tested in return. She slid her right foot in front of her body and tensed her left foot in the back and sprung forward like a snake. “Ki!’ Shakti shouted as she thrust her blade out towards the man’s chest, exhaling her breath as she moved.
Sevari’s sword came down at an angle, batting away the girl’s sword that was set on biting into his chest. He quickly transitioned into a thrust of his own in an effort to gain some space to work with.
Her thrust parried but still intent on seizing the initiative, Shakti slapped the man’s riposte away but refused to give ground she had gained in her lunge. She returned her sword to its neutral position in her centre attitude. Perhaps it was unwise to corner a dangerous man such as this. The thought had crossed her mind, but she wanted to keep him off balance and with little room to manoeuvre.
His lip curled in contempt as she foiled his own thrust and returned to her stance. The two gave a moment of silence in their dance, but Sevari was tiring of this already. He wasn’t sure he should leave any more than the one corpse, and who knew who else could stumble upon this little game this little girl was playing. One thing remained to be said, she wasn’t as harmless with that sword as Sevari first thought. With no more time to waste, he sent a downward slice her way to gain back the offensive.
The Redguard girl easily sidestepped the attack, but instead of immediately counter-attacking she merely inched her blade slightly closer to the man. This, combined with her position being shifted slightly to the right meant that to keep Shakti firmly in his centre, he would be forced ever closer to the wall of the alley. Of course it did leave an opening for him to dash past her, but Shakti calculated she could punish him accordingly if he took that risk.
Sevari was growing ever more annoyed. The events of the past few days did nothing to help keep his head, but he was determined to at least have today be a victory. With a growl, he slapped her blade away from himself and made to dash for Khesh. A searing pain cut him short and he stumbled back, wildly slashing to make this girl step back. Finally, Khesh was behind him and so was the exit out of here. The girl came at him again, making a thrust for his face that he leaned to the side against, not having any time to think.
He followed the lean with stepping to the side, thrusting from his hip looking for purchase but only leaving a small push-cut along her side. He held his sword out at the ready to ward any attacks off and chanced a look at himself. It was then he noticed his robes sticking to his back. He didn’t want to think on how bad it was, only the task at hand to worry about. “You’re stumbling into something much bigger than yourself, girl.” Sevari shook his head, “And right now I think you’re on the wrong side.”
The Redguard girl felt her side and grimaced as she realised she had taken a cut through her tunic. She had given as bad as she had got though, which was to say fairly superficially. Still, she felt her temper rise, “Don’t be so quick to predict the future when it is not yet off the loom!” Shakti spit back, “Leave the traitor-knight here and we can be done with this!” She kept her sword-point aimed at him but made no attempt to attack. He seemed to be losing patience, perhaps she could force him to make an error. However, she needed to remain calm and collected to do that. Control, control, control! her mind screamed. Maintain poise! She had read that in an ancient Yokudan scroll. There was no need to be reckless, at least not yet. She still felt the urge in her heart to press the attack, to go for the final cut, but she fought to restrain herself. If she made a mistake now, it meant certain death.
Sevari clenched his jaw, his eyes squinting in anger at the insolence of this girl. One thing he could say was that she was a good swordswoman. He wondered who had trained her, she was able to keep her own against him and he’d been fighting for twenty years. “No. You have far outlasted your stay here.”
With that, a blinding white light emitted from his palm. He scrambled towards Khesh, who was again beginning to stir. This fight had set him back a bit, wondering where Quintus was. He kicked Khesh in the side of the head as he made to get to his feet, dropping him back to the ground with a pained grunt. Just as he slapped his hands onto Khesh’s collar, he heard the sharp crack of a Dwemer rifle. He jumped back with a surprised growl at the sudden loud bang. “Away from the man, now!” Sevari looked at the Dwemer just as the look of recognition spread across his face, “Sevari?”
“I’m working, you fool.” Sevari said, “Get her!”
“Who?” Sevari looked behind him and was met with an empty alleyway. With an annoyed tsk he rose to his full height.
“Just get him, then. Bring him to the Governor’s Palace.” Sevari said.
As the Dwemer soldiers hauled Khesh to his unsteady feet, Sevari turned back to the alleyway. Who was that girl? He’d have to look out for her, if not to ask her what in Oblivion she was doing messing with his mission, just to ask her where she had learned what she knew and who gave her that sword. “Sir?” Sevari stared after where she had probably made her escape from, he heard the Dwemer soldier ask again, a bit louder, “Sir?”
“I’ll catch up. Just go.” He said, following after a few moments of thinking.
A few minutes of running later, Shakti stopped in a darkened sidestreet and bent double to catch her breath. One hand on the pommel of her sword, now safely back in its sheath, the other hand on her wounded ribcage. In between breaths she lifted her tunic up to check the wound. It was lightly bleeding still but it did not look fatal. “Oh good. At least I won’t bleed to death in an alley.” She wiped some of the blood from her side and wiped it on the wall. After all, this was her good tunic, the one she wore on important missions and she did NOT want to have to wash blood out of it. She peeked out into the street to see if she was followed. It didn’t appear so. She rubbed her eyes. They still stung from the bright light that was clearly intended to stun her. Instead, she had heard some commotion behind her and had half turned. The bright flash and the sound of footsteps convinced her it was time to cut her losses and run. Still half-blinded, she had torn down the road as fast as her legs would carry her.
Exhaling and starting off back towards the Three Crowns, she reassured herself that although she hadn’t managed to get away with the Knight, she had managed to escape with her life. That counted for something, right?
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