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The most common color for highlighters is yellow because it doesn’t leave a shadow on the page when photocopied
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40000 Americans are injured by toilets each year
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A strawberry is not an actual berry, but a banana is.
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No one knows who invented the fire hydrant because its patent was burned in a fire
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Sea otters hold hands while sleeping so they don’t drift away from each other
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Afternoon, Last Seed 10
Jehanna



After the funeral, Gustav wanted to have a nice lunch. At the same time, he also wanted to save time and money, so he settled on a simple lunch instead. In the end, he got neither of those.

All but one cook from the Kyne's Tear died, and the last one, the Redguard that signed on in Solitude, was gone. No resignation, no words of departure. Her bag of belongings was still there, but Turpen herself was gone, and no one had seen her. She was not the only one leaving. As Gustav waited for the barely acceptable servers to serve him the barely acceptable food in the barely acceptable White Helm, Dael gro'Gone came to announce that he would be, well, gone. At least this Orc was kind enough to deliver a resignation letter, saying that mercenary work was not what he expected, and the violence turned out to be too much for him to stomach, literally. Oh well, Gustav always thought he wasn't as tough as he looked. Dael was an eloquent speaker though, and he spoke of other inspiring, if not confusing, pursuits (like basket weaving) he would undertake.

Gustav shook Dael's meaty hands and gave him the patchy pie he ordered. The pie's unappetizing and Dael did pretty much nothing at Smuggler's Cove, so it's not like they'll be of any use to Gustav, pie or Dael. He's just eager to get them out of the way and get on with his busy day.



After his failed attempt at lunch, Gustav went to the royal castle with a case of Tmeip'r's documents (and a translated summary), hoping that he won't fail at selling his information to the royalty. It shouldn't, seeing how he already met King Frithjolf and his inner circle before, as a prominent businessman. Turned out, Frithjolf wasn't even in his castle at all. Gustav had to hand over a sizable "tip" to a royal administrator just to have an audience with Queen Idunn, and the audience lasted no more than five minutes.

Tmeip'r's scheme sounded absolutely outlandish to Queen Idunn and her officials; no one believed a word Gustav said. When Gustav produced the fish scale papers, the court burst into laughter.

"This is real!" Gustav tried keep his frustration down, and his salesman pitch up. "We saw the creatures, the airship, and the Sload itself with our own eyes!"

When nothing else worked, Gustav jumped to his conjecture. "Princess Griseld is in league with them!"

The court fell silent, Idunn raised her eyebrows, and Gustav realized how he shouldn't have said what he just said.

"I entertained your presence only because you were a friend of our kingdom." Queen Idunn stood from her throne, her eagle-like gaze pointed straight towards her query. Her dress, made of a heavy green fabric with swirling golden stitching, swooped around her like giant wings. Gustav couldn't help but to back up a step. "But now you come fearmongering and slandering; I will not tolerate any false accusation against my own children. You are no longer welcomed in this castle, and if you dare spread another word of your lies, you and your enterprise will no longer be welcomed in our realm."

"What? How can you not-" The pounding steps of two heavily armored guards cut Gustav off. He bowed his head and made his exit. "As you wish, your majesty."



After that disastrous meeting, and out of earshot of anyone important, Gustav had no shortage of curse coming out of his mouth. Things were not going great at all for him. His reserve fund was rapidly dwindling, the morale of the mercenaries sunk to an all-time low, and there didn't seem to be a way to boost either of them. Plus, he still had absolutely nothing on the wise prophet that propelled him into prosperity. Three years of infallible predictions and now nothing, an unprecedented two months of silence. Maybe this was the difficulty that broke down Ashav, maybe he should just cut his losses.

No, this company was his path to greatness. Gustav was certain he would save the world with these mercenaries; he needed a honorable Name from this. Plus, he had already spent too much time, effort and money, the latest of which included a really expensive bribe no more than thirty minutes ago.

Speak of the bribe, the very same bribed administrator bumped into Gustav as he rounded the next hallway. He was a gangly looking Orc, likely in his mid-thirties, with tusks half ground down, and hair and clothing styled in vain to match an unsuitable mix of Breton and Nordic nobility. He had an air of not fitting in like Dael; it as if the only difference between them was Dael being bigger and louder. Gustav might have met this individual at a party before, but he wasn't sure. Gustav was sure that the Orc stood beside Queen Idunn during his hearing, and he was the only one not laughing. The Orc looked at him almost with a sense of pity, as he understood what it was like.

"I know someone else interested in your information." The Orc cut straight to the chase.

"And that is?"

A green hand held out, palm open and facing up.

Gustav groaned, but shoved over coins regardless.

"General Cassia, from the legion, is as paranoid as you are." The Orc started, once the gold is stuffed securely into his pocket. "She's reactivating the reserve legion in response to threats in the east, but not many's taking her seriously. People here think the wars in the east are strictly between Morrowind, and you know, the others. But we can't pretend High Rock is it's own self-contained place and turn a blind eye to everywhere else. Maybe your information is the eye-opener we need."

"Huh." Gustav's frown evaporated, replaced with curiosity. "You care about the kingdom's security."

"Just trying to get by." The Orc shrugged.

"Family back in Morkul?" Gustav pressed on.

"Used to, but they don't need me anymore. Can't get anything done there when the Nords won't even acknowledge our problems." The Orc sighed, shaking his head. "You should get going now, her majesty won't be pleased to see you wandering around here."
Alright, @Blitzy, sorry for the long wait.

Gjorn's looking good; just three tweaks I need you to make.

1. Being an undefeated arena fighter for four years is overpowered, even with his bear essence. It's possible for Gjorn to win most of his matches and stay alive, but he's bound to get his ass kicked a few times.

2. 131 gold is quite a bit of money. Even though he provides security for the caravan, a sizable portion of his pay would be given in the form of food and shelter. I would lower the cash on his person to below 100, as it would make finding work more pressing, and giving him motivation to join our group.

3. I like how you've included stuttering and avoiding eye contact as side effects from his addiction. I imagine Gjorn must also be speaking with a thick Skaal accent, as he grew up in their isolated village. The people he talks to may have problems understanding him, and some may even mock his speech.

You can drop Gjorn in the character's tab once you've made the tweaks, unless my co-GMs say otherwise. Welcome to Fruits of Contention!
Hey @Blitzy, my co-GMs and I have been very busy recently. We will review your sheet and get back to you ASAP.
@Blitzy, have you made any updates to your sheet?



Be advised, the skill list has been revamped. Details are below and updated in the first OOC post. You may (and should) adjust your character's skills if they are affected by the update.

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