darkwolf687

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Alas, that means one less comrade for our adventure. An ill fate is upon us this day.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Valinor

Not my best work but I have grown quite rusty, it is still pending a good proof reading and polishing, but I unfortunately do not have the time to do that tonight so that will have to wait until tomorrow. Nonetheless, a conjurer and purveyor of lore from a culture and background where Aedra worship is not the norm feels like an interesting thing to throw in there. Given how long elves live and mages life extending themselves all over the shop, someone who briefly predates the Empire and has lived through its chaotic moments as well as its peace should also provide some interesting and potentially contrasting perspectives in the second half of the RP, should we get there. Please forgive the spells section; a full wizards list is a bit cumbersome. I did experiment with hiders but it broke the formatting. Julianos feels very fitting, I think.

Edit: Proof read and updated.

Valinor

Dalnoria Sarys

Dalnoria Sarys

_{"Consider your end, mortal." - Tribunal Aphorism}

---

___________________________________ P R O F I L E Known as Dalnoria Sarys Height 5'4 Weight 115 lbs Gender Woman Race Dunmer Age 556 (Born 2e 773) Birthsign Atronach ___________________________________ C A P A B I L I T I E S Deity Julianos Attributes MAJOR: Intelligence minor: Willpower Skills Conjuration (Expert) Alteration (Journeyman) Destruction (Journeyman) Alchemy (Apprentice) Mysticism (Apprentice) Restoration (Apprentice) Illusion (Novice) Spells (While I am assembling this spell list, I am including custom spells calculated to skill levels by the magicka costs of the effects in game, as the link to the spell making page appears to be an instruction to do it in that manner. As such, this spell making below makes use of the mechanics with regards to durations, for example the cheaper cost of damage over time spells vs straight damage spells to create more damaging effectives at an accessible level. I have avoided what I consider to be spellmaking cheese (The obvious exploit being stacking weakness to magicka spells followed by drain health which will tactically nuke just about anything in the game at low cost) but I understand that what is using spell making as intended vs cheese is open to debate and the impossibility of balancing it is one of the reasons Bethesda yeeted the entire system come Skyrim and that these customs spells are thus at the mercy of the GMs. Forgive me if there's any mistakes in how certain spells work, it has been many years since I played unmodded oblivion.) Alteration Guard Open Easy Lock Open Average Lock Water Breathing Sea Stride Lighten Load Open Very Easy Lock Protect Other Lock Splitter -Open Lock 70 Pts on target (148.349199) (148.349199, Journeyman Level, 118.679359 after minimum skill modification) Fifth Barrier -Shield 50 pts for 20 seconds on self (134.562521) (134.562521, Journeyman Level, 107.650017 after minimum skill modification) Elemental Barrier -Fire Shield 15pts for 15 seconds on self (45.6259243) -Frost Shield 15pts for 15 seconds on self (45.6259243) -Shock Shield 15pts for 15 seconds on self (45.6259243) (136.877773, Journeyman Level, 109.502218 after minimum skill modification) Total Effect: Shield 45%, Resist Fire 15%, Resist Frost 15%, Resist Shock 15% Fire Barrier -Fire Shield 30 Pts for 15 Seconds on self (110.797528) (110.797528, Journeyman Level, 88.6380224 after minimum skill Modification) Total Effect; Shield 30%, Resist Fire 30% Fire Barrier (Dunmer) -Fire Shield 25 Pts for 15 Seconds on self (87.7360495) -Shield 5 pts for 15 Seconds on Self (5.29645612) (93.03250562, Journeyman Level, 74.43 after minimum skill Modification) Total Effect; Shield 30%, Resist Fire 25% Frost Barrier -Frost Shield 30 Pts for 15 Seconds on self (110.797528) (110.797528, Journeyman Level, 88.6380224 after minimum skill Modification) Total Effect; Shield 30%, Resist Frost 30% Lightning Barrier -Shock Shield 30 Pts for 15 Seconds on self (110.797528) (110.797528, Journeyman Level, 88.6380224 after minimum skill Modification) Total Effect; Shield 30%, Resist Shock 30% Conjuration Summon Spider Daedra Superior Bound Armor Bound Sword Bound Dagger Dismiss Undead Summon Daedroth Summon Headless Zombie Summon Skeleton Guardian Summon Faded Wraith Summon Frost Atronach Summon Flame Atronach Summon Dremora Summon Scamp Summon Ghost Summon Ancestor Guardian (Racial) Summon Horde of Southern Demons - Summon Frost Atronach for 20 Seconds (205.99) - Summon Flame Atronach for 20 Seconds (90) - Summon Scamp for 20 Seconds (60) (350.99, Expert Level. 175.495 after minimum skill modification) Lesser Summon Storm Atronach - Summon Storm Atronach for 30 seconds (350) (350, Expert Level, 175 after minimum skill modification) The Danse Macabre - Summon Skeleton for 20 Seconds (22.5) - Summon Skeleton Guardian for 20 Seconds (65) - Summon Skeleton Hero for 20 Seconds (132) - Summon Zombie for 20 Seconds (33.34) - Summon Headless Zombie for 20 Seconds (112) (364.84, Expert Level. 182.42 after minimum skill modification) Repel the Dead - Turn Undead up to Level 25 for 30 Seconds on Target (135.609653) (135.609563, Journeyman Level, 67.8 after minimum skill modification) Circle of Protection - Turn Undead up to Level 12 for 25 Seconds on Touch in 30 Feet (139.608616) (139.608616, Journeyman Level, 69.8 after minimum skill modification) Greater Circle of Protection - Turn Undead up to Level 25 for 25 Seconds on Touch in 30 Feet (339.024134, Expert Level, 169.51 after minimum skill modification) Destruction Weakness to Magicka Withering Touch Weakness to Poison Weakness to Fire Weakness to Frost Weakness to Shock Winter's Grasp Lightning Grasp Searing Grasp Wizard's Fury (Journeyman) - Cascading Vulnerability - Weakness to Magicka 100% for 7 Seconds on Touch (72.615611) - Weakness to Fire 100% for 7 seconds on touch (25.4154638) - Weakness to Frost 100% for 7 seconds on touch (25.4154638) - Weakness to Shock 100% for 7 seconds on touch (25.4154638) (139.785051, Journeyman spell, 111.83 after minimum skill modification) Vulnerability to Magic - Weakness to Magicka 100% for 10 Seconds on Touch (90.7695137) (90.7695137, journeyman spell, 72.62 after minimum skill modification) Bolt of Vulnerability - Weakness to Magicka 100% for 10 Seconds on Target (136.154271) (136.154271, journeyman spell, 108.923417after minimum skill modification) Elemental Vulnerability - Weakness to Fire 100% for 10 seconds on touch (36.3078055) - Weakness to Frost 100% for 10 seconds on touch (36.3078055) - Weakness to Shock 100% for 10 seconds on touch (36.3078055) (108.923417, Journeyman Spell, 87.14 after minimum skill modification) Elemental Vulnerability Bolt - Weakness to Fire 100% for 8 seconds on Target(43.5693666) - Weakness to Frost 100% for 8 seconds on Target(43.5693666) - Weakness to Shock 100% for 8 seconds on Target(43.5693666) (130.7081, Journeyman Spell, 104.56 after minimum skill modification) Grasp of Tel Sarys - Fire Damage 5 pts for 8 seconds on touch (47.0796099) - Frost Damage 5 pts for 8 seconds on touch (46.4518818) - Shock Damage 5 pts for 8 seconds on touch (48.9627943) (142.494286, Journeyman spell, 113.99 after minimum skill modification) Total Damage: 40 Fire, 40 Frost, 40 Shock Finger of Tel Sarys - Fire Damage 5 pts for 5 seconds on Target(44.1371343) - Frost Damage 5 pts for 5 seconds on Target (43.5486392) - Shock Damage 5 pts for 5 seconds on Target (45.9026197) (133.588393, Journeyman Spell, 106.87 after minimum skill modification) Total Damage: 25 Fire, 25 Frost, 25 Shock Finger of Contempt: - Fire Damage 18 pts seconds on Target(45.4884699) - Frost Damage 18 pts on Target (44.881957) - Shock Damage 18 pts on Target (47.3080087) (137.678436, Journeyman Spell, 110.142749 after minimum skill modification) Total Damage: 18 Fire, 18 Frost, 18 Shock Illusion Alluring Gaze Frenzy Illuminate Inspiration Blink -Invisibility for 6 Seconds on Self (24) (24, Novice Spell, 26.688 after maximum skill modification) Mysticism Soul Trap Remote Manipulation Major Life Detection Major Dispel Dispel Other Restoration Convalescence Cure Paralysis Cure Poison Heal Major Wounds Leech Health Major Respite Leap of Faith - Fortify Acrobatics 60 points for 5 seconds on self (56.6441227) (56.6441227, Apprentice Spell, 62.31 after minimum skill modification) Vampiric Touch - Absorb health 5 pts for 5 seconds on touch (62.7728132) (62.7728132, Apprentice Spell, 69.05 after minimum skill modification) Total Effect Absorb Health 25 Sustained Leech - Absorb health 2 pts for 15 seconds on touch (58.2813545) (58.2813545, Apprentice Spell, 64.10 after minimum skill modification) Total Effect Absorb Health 30 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y Weapons and tools Staff of Storms Mortar and Pestle Alembic Calcinator Retort Outfit Dalnoria does not wear armour so as to avoid any drawbacks to her channeling of the arcane, but rather when out adventuring wears a simple set of brown leather travelling garments with a cloak and hood for when it rains. When she isn't travelling however, she has much finer tastes; She was, after all, born into privilege and is accustomed to it. She likes fine silk and velvet robes and dresses, and she has a particular fondness for the colour blue. Consumables Strong Potion of Sorcery Potion of Sorcery (x2) Weak Potion of Healing Greef Valuables Septims (84) Silver Necklace Crystal Ball Petty Soul Gem Misc Enchanted Quill that conjures its own ink A treated leather rucksack to carry her things in A horse (A gelding named "Rels", more suitable for Cyrodiil than a Guar) and leather saddle bags A large notebook used for note and research for her latest book Bag with travel rations ___________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE Like many Telvanni Wizards, Dalnoria is notably older than she first appears; Though she is at least a century past the allotted life span of a Dunmer, she most closely resembles a middle aged Dunmer with thin wrinkles forming out around the eyes and mouth and the beginnings of frown marks on her forehead. Like most her kindred, she has ashen blue skin, dark eyes and sharply pointed ears. Her long hair, in which she often wears a white lily or similar flower, comes down past her shoulders - hardly fit for adventuring in truth - and is copper in colour and parted on the left side. The arching of her brow pulls her face in such a way that she has a stern resting face, though it does soften considerably whenever she smiles. She is rather plain Dunmer with dull and oddly slanted eyes and a small, stubby nose, scarcely someone who would draw a second glance in a similarly attired crowd. As a curious feature, Dalnoria lacks a navel; Sustained and grown by magic during her fetal development, she never had an umbilical cord and so subsequently, never had a properly developed navel. She is keenly aware of this physical abnormality and irrationally ashamed by its existence. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK A Scholar at her core, Dalnoria Sarys was always driven forwards by a desire to understand the world and document its histories and mysteries. She sees herself as something as a chronicler, making her way through the long years of world and writing down what transpires for future generations to reflect upon. Though by no means as powerful a wizard as either of her parents, she is well content with the power that she has; She has seen what the Telvanni's constant pursuit of power has wrought upon both themselves and their people and has little desire to follow that same path of folly. That goes doubly for political power, for she would rather be a fly on the wall in the meeting of the powerful than occupy a seat at its table. Although she has long travelled the world to chronicle its events and study the ruins of those long passed from it, she does try not to become detached from the problems of the world and sink into a self absorbed and arbitrary belief system; To Dalnoria, indifference and alienation leads to destructive tendencies. How successful she has been in combating this detachment and arbitrariness is debateable. Still, she will help people out where she can in her travels, using her magic and herbalism to heal injuries and treat illnesses, as well as to drive away the occasional bandit raid or goblin tribe. She keeps up with the news of whatever surrounding area she is in to that end- and to help herself avoid getting caught off guard by marauders. The dreams that she has had can mean one of two things - and she is not sure which disturbs her more deeply. Either the slow march of time is finally claiming her sanity, or there is a terrible evil lurking within Cyrodiil that will kill tens of thousands of people, if not more. Her ethical position is highly consequentialist; Actions are good or bad based on the consequences of those actions. One can use a bad deed, such as murder or thievery, for a good cause. Good consequences are those which spread knowledge and truth, which keep people safe and which spread contentment among the mortal races - in that specific order. ____________________________________________________________________________ HISTORY Dalnoria was created by the Master Wizard Neveresa Sarys and her paramour, then spellwright Galos Othril. Like most powerful Telvanni wizards, the two had become keen to avoid death and had sought out the secrets of life extension. Telvanni wizards were not in the business of sharing this knowledge with each other and Neveresa - the elder of the two by a considerable few decades - grew increasingly desperate. Galos devotion to his lover knew no bounds, although one would not be wrong in suggesting that the foundation of this relationship was inherently toxic given the significant difference in age, rank and social standing of the two, and the circumstances of their meeting. The two had spent many, many years seeking out the secrets of immortality via the alchemical arts and eventually did succeed in putting a stopper in their death and apparent ageing. By that time, however, both had already stretched their lifespan thin, having extended it with necromancy and alteration to try and stave off their demise. As a result of these many varying treatments, Neveresa proved unable to carry a child to term despite many attempts. With Neveresa stubbornly refusing to allow another Mer to carry her child, the two spent nearly a century researching the early stages of life and growth- research that in truth involved some less than savoury experiments and no shortage of pain, hardship and failed attempts. Putting what they had learnt to the test, the two Telvanni were able to remove the fertilised egg and suspend it within amniotic fluid contained within a large glass ball; Through profane magics, they were able to sustain and grow this embryo at an unnatural speed. After the first three months, they extracted the 'baby' from within and lay it to rest within a crib. Its skin was little more than a translucent film that could have been destroyed with but a rough rub. She lay within that crib for many months, slowly nursed by various alchemical mixtures and the attentive care of her parents until eventually she looked as a Dunmer babe ought look. It was in these days that she manifested her birth sign, the Atronach - A manifestation that almost lead to her death as she kept inadvertantly absorbing the magical spells intended to sustain her. Growing up in Tel Sarys, the mushroom tower and castle town of Mistress Neveresa, Dalnoria found herself surrounded by strange and terrifying magical wonders from an early age. Galos Othril was a superb alchemist and gardener, counted among the best in Morrowind and beyond. Dalnoria never acquired his aptitude with potions or his green thumb with plants. Neversa Sarys could not have been more opposite, with little skill in alchemy or care for growing things, she was a master of destruction and conjuration who could call forth hordes of Daedric servants and lay waste to entire villages. Even so, both doted upon the child they had created. Unlike her parents, it was not in a particular field of practical magical application that Dalnoria excelled in but rather in the study of lore. Dalnoria studied the arcane, languages and history intensively and was captivated by the histories of ancient and lost civilisations such as those of the Dwemer and the Ayleids. Throughout her first century, the young Dunmer threw herself into her studies and assisted more and more with the experiments of her parents, seeing first hand their attempts to carve out a demiplane within one of the many abandoned planes of oblivion and their efforts to shore it up against Realm Rips and Roamvers. It is unsurprising to say that they never succeeded in this task. Nonetheless, Dalnoria showed aptitude for conjuration and handling Daedra during this time. Dalnoria's life with her parents was as content as it could be for such a bizarre and dysfunctional family. Dalnoria never doubted that her parents loved her in their own strange way - though their love was possessive and prescriptive and she often questioned if they had any idea what was truly best for her. If things had gone more smoothly and if they had had their way, the family structure would likely have been maintained unchanged to this day despite the passage of centuries. When she was fifty, her parents created another dose of the elixir they had used to slow their own ageing to a crawl and had their daughter drink it, coupling it with long and elaboration alteration spells. Over the coming weeks they had instructed Dalnoria on how to maintain this existence using the magical arts. Dalnoria has sometimes wondered over the centuries if it would have been wiser to refuse that gift and let nature take its course on her. Certainly, she would be dead by now - and if by some miracle she was not, she would have been decrepit and as elderly as they come, for few even among Elves lived this long naturally - but sometimes she wonders if it would be preferable to the risk that she will lose herself in the years as all Telvanni seem fated to. Time is as cruel a master to its slaves as any one of House Dres is to theirs. As she learnt more about the chaos of the world and the many disasters that befell it - the many ravaging plagues that passed, the conquests of Tiber Septim and the rise of Sixth House cultists and supposed 'heirs' of the Tribe Unmourned - it began to dawn on her that the Telvanni's hoarding of power was ultimately all for nothing; It was undeniable that they had great power, indeed their powers were so great that all feared them and few dared to impose upon them. Even the Tribunal Temple had a tendency to let sleeping dogs lie provided there was no open and blatant heresy among the Telvanni and the Empire of Tamriel was cautious in their dealings with the ancient wizards and often seemed to turn a blind eye to the blatantly illegal practices the Telvanni engaged in (For example, there was no shortage of slaves brought in from foreign lands under dubious circumstances traded in Telvanni territory. So long as the Telvanni payed lip service to the idea that their slaves were all legal and above board, nobody seemed to press them on it too heavily. Considering what had happened with the Telvanni and the Ebonheart Pact during the Second Era, slavery among the Telvanni seemed like it would be eternal regardless of what laws were passed) - no doubt worried about the potential problems a gaggle of angry sorcerers might cause them if poked too hard. Yet for all this power and potential, the Telvanni's stubborn refusal to leave their towers and holdings and their total commitment to their own petty squabbles rather than the true problems that faced Morrowind and Mundus were so obvious and crippling that Dalnoria began to wonder if they would even notice if the world itself ended. What was the point of all that power if it was never going to be used? When Dalnoria was 160, her mother got into a heated scholarly debate with another Master Wizard, Atheron. As debates within House Telvanni often do, it devolved into insults and eventually open attempts on each others lives. By the end of her duel with Magister Atheron, a finger was all that was left of Neveresa Sarys - and before that finger was even cold, Galos Othril swore revenge. War broke out between Master Galos of Tel Sarys and Master Atheron of Tel Ouada. Daedra were sucked out from the waters of oblivion and ravaged across each others land, clashing and slaughtering with summoned minions of the enemy. Both sent assassins after the other, and no less than two small farming villages were displaced as battle grounds while retainers and mercenaries were killed by their dozens on both sides. A small battle by the standards of Tamriel - but none the less a shocking example of the excesses of callous wizards with too much power and too few scruples. This insanity raged on for half a year before Galos, through duplicitous means, finally managed to kill Atheron; He forged false documentation for his own forces, making it appear as though he had a deep interest in an ancient ruin and placed rumours that he believed the famous Ring of Equity to be within. In truth, of course, Galos did not have and had never even seen the Ring of Equity but both he and Atheron knew enough about it to know that if one of them were to obtain it, it would spell certain doom for the other. And so Galos had his servants hide a false Ring of Equity and had a facade of an archaeological dig set up, hoping that Atheron would take the bait. Sure enough, the Telvanni master did; he and his spellwrights slaughtered their way into the old Velothi tower and down into its subterranean, where they fought their way through the daedric guardians that Galos had bound as part of the illusion and secured what they believed to be the Ring of Equity. In a moment of Triumph, Atheron slipped the ring upon his finger - only to fall in a heap to the floor, writhing in agony as cursed ring ripped his soul from his body and warped his flesh, causing cancerous growths across his body. His corpse ended up so bloated and deformed in the end up that his servants could not even pull the ring from his finger and opted to cut it off in a vain attempt to save the magister. When the news reached Galos, safe within his velvet keep of Tel Sarys, he smiled and toasted a feast with a glass of vintage brandy. Jokingly, he offered his guests enchanted rings. They all declined. Dalnoria had seen what became of her mother and how her father had reacted. She had watched in horror as hundreds had died or been displaced from their lands over what had started as a dispute of metaphysical formulae. People she had known from the garrison and town surrounding Tel Sarys had died in the pointless conflict. Try as she might, she could find no closure in what had happened. Revenge brought no closure to her father either, despite his desperate attempts to revel in it. As the decades dragged on, more and more of the mortal servants within Tel Sarys died or moved off and were not replaced by its new Master; Galos now preferred to surround himself with Dremora and Daedra, or refurbished animunculi. As such, Tel Sarys felt ever more lonely as the wizards withdrew and the ghosts of the past lingered. Dalnoria watched the world change around them. The damage wrought upon it by people like Atheron, like Neveresa and Galos - like herself even, for she had assisted in summoning the daedra during that ghastly war - gradually healed. The villages they had displaced had long since been resettled and the dispute disappeared into history, lost among the many hundreds of examples of Telvanni infighting over the ages. A century of isolation with her father followed, filled with desperate attempts to reach out to him and change him. It eventually dawned on her that there was no good she could do for Galos Othril. The old wizard still loved her, it was true, but there was no healing in his mind. As he withdrew further and further, he coveted and possessed all those things that reminded him of Neveresa and that century and a half they had all spent together as a family and used it to live in the past. Dalnoria was one of those things; When he looked at her, he did not see her as she was but as she had been. When he walked the halls of Tel Sarys, he did not see it as it was but as it had been. As Dalnoria tells it, she could think of only one thing that might shake the wizard from his madness; Suspecting her presence to be unhealthy and unhelpful to him, she abandoned him and left Tel Sarys behind her, hoping it might force him from the tower and into the world so that he might finally exit his shell and realise what he had become. As far as Dalnoria knows, he never did and remains cooped up in his tower to this day. As she set out to see the world again, her travels first took her across her homeland of Morrowind. Though the talents of conjuration were tolerated within the confines of the Telvanni district of Morrowind, the other great houses and the Temple bore little love for it. Telvanni wizards were feared by the common folk and so she found little trust when she introduced herself as such - and found even less love when she did not, leading people to look upon her as some witch or daedric cultist. The Empire of Tiber Septim had only just come out of the War of the Red Diamond and staggered out of the other end into an uncertain and unstable future. Legionaries were still hunting run away traitors from the war across the face of Tamriel and for a while, Dalnoria believed that the Empire was doomed to implode under its own crushing weight. The subsequent reign of Pelagius the Mad did little to change her mind. Her adventures across Morrowind were academically eventful but are hardly interesting in a chronicle of history. Suffice it to say that, delving into the ruins of the Dwemer, the many Daedric ruins that dotted the province and the old fortresses of the Dunmer, she gathered together a great many tomes upon the history of these civilisations - as best she could figure it, at least. Publication of these tomes proved difficult at times. In the case of Daedric ruins in particular, the Tribunal Temple proved an irritating thorn in her side. A great many of her works upon both the old and ongoing customs of the Dunmer in regards to the Daedra found themselves on the wrong end of some two bit Temple censor who wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between a cursed gem and an ordinary one had his life depended on it. One such Temple swit even sent an Ordinator to keep an eye on her during one of her excavations, seemingly under the impression that she was actually skulking off to sell souls to Mehrunes Dagon or convert the local population to the worship of House of Troubles. Having grown sick of the constant meddling of the overbearing Temple authorities, Dalnoria began to consider broadening her horizons beyond the Velothi and Valus mountains. By this time, Emperor Pelagius the Mad had passed away within his asylum and the crown of the Empire had fallen to the Dark Elf Katariah, wife of the late Pelagius. Controversial at the start of her reign, Dalnoria thought to see what a Cyrodiil under the control of a Dark Elf might look. She crossed beyond the borders from Morrowind to Cyrodiil and had hoped that would be the end of furious denunciations of her as some practitioner of the black arts. Alas, it was not so; She came to learn the truth behind the words of Divayth Fyr that 'petty local officials, regardless of race or culture, are universally suspicious and ill-informed. "A sorcerer, eh?," they say. "Well, we'll have none of your raising the dead in this jurisdiction, is that understood?"' Now, of course it was true that she *had* dabbled with the use of Daedric Spirits for animating the corpses of the dead and it was equally true that she had called upon the ancestor spirits to protect her - as, it ought be noted, many Dunmer did and yet did not regard as necromancy - but truly, it was hardly as if she were creeping off into cemeteries in the dead of night to dig up the putrefying corpses of mothers as some people seemed to believe! Whatever the case, she carried about her studies and research as best she could. The suspicion of locals and the constant need to assuage their fears whenever she travelled to a new town or village was nothing compared to the constant scrutiny of the Temple and so she found it to be a worthwhile trade all the same. Local branches of the Mages Guild, whenever it learnt of an enterprising sorcerer poking around between old ruins, occasionally did send some member to check that everything was above board - and she got very good at hiding anything which *wasn't*, such as the odd artefact smuggling here and there. That wasn't too difficult to deal with, however; The Imperial lackeys were still far more understanding and accommodating than the Temple had ever been. Throughout Katariah's reign, Dalnoria watched and chronicled as the mer fought the elder council tooth and nail on every issue. Empress Katariah's reign was a prosperous one and the mer travelled far around her realm, proving herself to be a shrewd diplomat, a cunning politician and a keen mind. When news of her death in a supposed minor skirmish in Black Marsh, Dalnoria had immediately suspected foul play. She was not surprised when, some centuries later, the historian-sage Montalius finally turned up some evidence that a disenfranchised branch of the Septim Dynasty was directly involved. It was an unfortunate indictment of both the nature of hereditary rule and the political scheming of the elder council, in the eyes of Dalnoria, that Katariah's son had none of her talent and presided over the decline of the Empire into sedition - and ultimately another war and succession crisis Throughout all these years, Dalnoria had delved into old ruins and even older libraries in the search for history and lore, giddy as a child at every find she made. As she travelled the land, she offered her services in spellcasting and alchemy to those she met along the way, both to get by in making gold and to force herself to interact with people and use her magical talents in the world at large - She had no desire to become as reclusive or detached as the House Telvanni. During the days of the Camoran Usurper, she was studying the Direnni in High Rock and when word reached her of the victory of Orthok over the Nightmare Host and of the link to the Camoran Usurper and his seemingly inexorable march north, Dalnoria realised that history was in the making and felt obligated not to repeat the mistakes of her Great House by sitting out a seminal event. Joining up with the coalition forces as a lowly battlemage and apothecary, she spent several long years at arms against the undead and the daedra. She watched as Baron Orthok's name became legend and his armies finally defeated the Camoran Usurper - a task which the Emperor Cephorus II had proven horribly inadequate at for nearly a decade. Though her name was in no books and her influence upon events was but a tiny fraction of the greater whole, as another nameless face in a sea of warriors, she took great pride in having done right by the world. From the end of the Camoran Usurper, Tamriel enjoyed well over one hundred years of relative peace and Dalnoria put them to good use refining her knowledge of lore and the arcane. There were threats and problems on the continent all the same, of course, and evil always lurked in the shadows waiting for its opportunity. Nonetheless, the longest period of relative peace in all her life time lulled her and seemingly the world into a false sense of security and she lost herself in her work - even the mismanagement and sparse wars during the Imperial Simulacrum did not shake her and it was only upon the deception being revealed that she finally turned her attention back towards news of politics. The 5th century of the 3rd era has made for grim reading all the way; The total disappearance of the Tribunal from the public eye, the blight and the discontent in the capital of the Imperial City. Not even the prophesised return of the Nerevarine eased Dalnoria's worry, for she began to have disturbing dreams, more akin to visions. In her dreams, she saw visions of a great Daedric horde within the waters of Oblivion, of death and destruction at the hands of mad mages, and of the bloody closing chapter of an era. Initially, she feared that these were the signs of some madness gripping her due to exposure to Oblivion, that they might even be signs of some form of possession. Yet none of her tests or experiments indicated such and it matched no descriptions she had heard before. It was with a heavy heart that instead she began to try and decipher these dreams, leaning into the arts of mysticism - of which she was only moderated acquainted - in the hopes of understanding what they meant. For many months the true meanings of these visions eluded her. Finally, frustrated and exhausted by her lack of progress, Dalnoria turned to Greef to ease her woes and frustration. Yet after falling into her bed in an inebriated stupor, she had the clearest vision yet; White Gold Tower and the Imperial City set ablaze against the horizons setting sun. Having the clearest yet geographical indicator of where it might lead her, Dalnoria felt compelled to travel to Cyrodiil in search of the meaning. Even now, she is not sure if there is a true meaning to them or if she is finally going mad. They would certainly say so back home in Morrowind; if you have disturbing dreams, people say you are crazy and want to lock you up. If you have disturbing dreams, and think they mean something, then they say you're a witch - and they want to lock you up. As such, she isn't exactly eager to share this information with anyone else until she has a better idea of what is going on... ____________________________________________________________________________ RELATIONSHIPS AND OPINIONS As the Daughter of Telvanni Master Wizards Galos Othril and Neveresa Sarys, Dalnoria has had an extremely strained relationship with both her family and the wider house Telvanni. In her youth, she lived through the chaos of the waning days of the interregnum, the invasion of Morrowind and the return of Dagoth Ur, as well as the many plagues and civil wars that characterised the mid 3rd era. Even as a child she couldn't understand her Houses refusal to get involved in either contemporary events or the events of the past. The raw power of the Telvanni could have tipped the scale of any of the many chaotic wars, from the Three Banner Wars and the Planemeld before her birth to the blatantly evil machinations of Potema to seize the throne of Tamriel - and yet they preferred to go on bickering in their little corner of Morrowind. Following her mother's death and her fathers descent into an ever more detached and depressed isolation, Dalnoria struggled for more than a century to keep him company and maintain some form of order on the estate. She grew to resent him, feeling snared and tied down by the eccentric fool. When she left to see the world for herself, he was left in total isolation - and as far as she is concerned, the world is better off for it. Blaming the ideology of House Telvanni for her mother's death and the turmoil of her family, Dalnoria travelled the lands of Morrowind, seeking her own purpose. She has forsaken her Great House and has little love for it or its ways. Even her homeland itself took a toll on her; The orthodox Temple, the xenophobic Ashlanders, the constant bickering between the houses all seemed to point to a deeply ill society to herself. Nonetheless, she still finds a certain comfort in food and drink that come from Morrowind, preferring a good portion of Scuttle and a good bottle of Greef or Vintage Comberry Brandy, a personnel favourite. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC Noteworthy Weaknesses Physically Frail: Dalnoria has no notable physical aptitudes and has a sickly disposition; The magical and alchemical processes that were used to help bring her to term were truly impressive but were far from perfect; She is frail and does not perform well in physical trails of strength or endurance or when exposed to sickness. Her injuries heal slowly and it can sometimes take her weeks to fight off illnesses that others would recover from within the week. As such, she prefers to allow her summons to deal with any matter that relies on simple brute force, but there is only so much Stunted Magicka: Dalnoria does not regenerate magicka naturally. Ageing Mind: As the years of her life pile up one after another, surpassing the appropriate lifespan of a Dunmer, Dalnoria's mind continues to age regardless of the rate of ageing and maintenance of her physical body. As more and more memories cloud her limited mortal mind, her memory has become subject to a short of 'white noise'; In recalling details of events she has experienced or actions she has undertaken, she sometimes muddles them up with others that were similar, and sometimes she can take longer than she ought to to recall information. Usually, this is a manageable problem - but on occasion it has had catastrophic side effects, such as mistaking one potion for the other. She has learnt from experience to label every potion and poison she makes now and keeps a detailed notebook to refer to if she believes there is any possibility of confusion. Her perspective of the passage of time has grown warped as well; Time seems to flow faster for her now, hours passing in what feels like minutes. She has often attempted to brush these mental ailments off with light humour and jest - but in truth, she is terrified of the eventual implications... Stream of Consciousness: Despite her towering intellect, in discussions she has a terrible tendency to run off on multiple tangents before finally addressing the issue at hand, losing focus on what is important in a conversation and leaping between what happens to capture her interest at that moment. It is not uncommon for her to speak whatever is on her mind without thinking through the consequences and as such saying more than she ought or insulting others by mistake. Social settings and persuasion do not come easily to such a person and it would likely be unwise to let her conduct the diplomacy. Dalnoria is, unfortunately, utterly blind to this aspect of herself; She often holds total conviction that she can convince people around to her ideas through dialogue. Easily Distracted: Dalnoria has a tendency to become enamoured with interesting and intriguing objects around her, be they alchemical ingredients, relics of a lost civilisation or even unusual monsters. Unfortunately, it is all too common that she forgets mundane but still important tasks in favour of examining whatever it was that caught her attention. She will often need someone to focus her on the task at hand, lest she spend eight hours dissecting the unusually coloured bear rather than delivering the letter to the count.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

The problem with the Elderscrolls games is not that nobody's playing a stealth archer I think. I think it's much more that nobody is playing just a stealth archer, because on the long run the system invites you to play a character who can just do about everything perfectly

@Fetzen

Hell, depending on the Elder Scrolls Game, it can encourage you to do weird shit, like deliberately avoiding leveling up in oblivion due to how strong the enemy levelling is and how frustrating efficient leveling is lol.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

I'm very much interested! I shall nab Julianos if that is alright. Unfortunately, my character sheet is not finished tonight so I will have to finish and post it tomorrow (or at least, most of it)

A Pairing Beloved

Aurien grinned and peered back to the guard with a cheeky wink, chuckling away to himself. The guardsman grunted angrily, and then nodded

"Then you fit in better with us than where you're going, I would wager!" The Guardsman retorted with a chuckle. Gaikus shot him a glance for a moment then sat back as the man left. The retainers chuckled to themselves and shook their heads, quickly going about their business

***

Zakroti raised his hand out to the left side to give a light wave as he approached the group in the courtyard, greeting his men at arms "An alafin a serpen, ieni!" He called to them, taking his seat amongst them and taking the pitcher and glass he was handed to pour himself a drink

"Zela ta laloriaonz odzi, Taki!" Some of the men replied cheerfully enough as they ate together and spoke of all kinds of things. Zakroti turned his head towards Nenra as she greeted him and bowed his head lightly to her

"An thul a sil, Nenra." He replied to her with a warm smile, glancing to Miry for a moment as the Nenra whispered to her before his attention was suddenly drawn to the otherside by Narlemaewel, his helmet now removed to reveal the decidedly gemmenite features that made him entirely distinct from the mixture of Drakken around him. Zakroti gave a small smile and nodded

"I have ensured that we have made ready to leave, we can exit as soon as we have finished with the morning food. The mounts are changed and the ganauts will be taken home separately, but shouldn't arrive more than a few days after our own arrival" Narlemaewel said simply, his voice relatively gruff and short. He dipped the spoon into the bowl of soup and beginning to eat from it.

"Thank you, Narlemaewel, oeiz seru." Zakroti replied with a light nod as he cut into the meat that was one his plate, slicing away at it and plopping the chunk into his mouth as Narlemaewel continued

"Word is that the road is clear enough and the weather should hold for the next step of our journey, but the calculations were made for our riding. Are the Gemmenites here capable of riding as long and hard as our own riders, or will I need to adjust the itinerary?" He asked with a light raise of a brow, glancing over to Nenra and Miry for a moment before peering back to his overlord.

"They seemed to handle it suitably enough, I will look after them." Zakroti replied with a light nod, shifting in place a little and continuing to eat. Then he paused for a moment and glanced towards Miry and Nenra again "How well are you handling the riding? We've got a good deal more of it on the road ahead."

A Pairing Beloved

Zakroti awoke and rolled lightly in the bed, peering around the room and getting his bearings after teh night. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and his eyes came to settle on Miry, sitting beside the bed and engrossed in embroidery and needlework.

"An alafin a serpen, how did you sleep?" He asked, wondering how much longer than him she'd been awake. He wasn't sure he appreciated being left asleep or not, there was always an unease to the idea that others had been awake and mobile around you while you have been enjoying your little slice of death. "We'll rejoin the others soon enough."

He rose from the bed and dressed quickly enough into his travelling clothes and gambeson for the journey. They would join the companions for breakfast soon enough, before they set off. The hospitality of the lady of the keep had extended far enough to offer them stay to remain for food, which Zakroti had respectfully declined. The sooner they set off, the better for he the next friendly location would be the full days ride away from here.

***

"Your lord is slow to arrive today." A guardsman noted noted, taking a swig from his tankard and leaning forwards in place towards Zakroti's entourage s "Don't suppose we should go make sure she hasn't slit his throat"

"Narlemaewel is one room over, were there to be an incident, it would be interceded in long before come to us." Gaikus replied as he broke bread between them. "Besides, the girl seems too timid and gentle to do such."

"Right, because timid and gentle people never kill. I mean, just look at Kzaar over here, big guy never hurts a sou= Oh." Aurien commented with a wry smile taking his share of the bread and passing a share over to Kzaar, who remained quiet and shifted a little awkwardly in place.

"As you say. You must be looking forward to returning home, you've roused so early." The guardsman replied with a shrug of his shoulder, then nodding towards Nenra "What about her?"

"Our overlord said we should set out early in order to make it the distance. I would rather not be left behind, or rushed out onto my horse on an empty stomach, so I'm up already myself." Aurien replied simply through a mouthful of bread.

"If we do not leave early, they may have closed the gates by the time we arrive. It is much more irksome to get into a city at night, lords rarely like to be roused from their sleep because someone's knocking on a city gate asking to be let inside." Gaikus replied as he finished breaking the bread, sitting back again with the calmness and deliberation of a slothful, almost exaggeratedly slowly. "As for Nenra, what about her?"

"It seems unorthodox to let her sleep in a room with unsecured weapons in the night, surely she could have been given one of the guest rooms, or just shared the room with your lord." The Guardsman replied with a light shrug of his shoulders again "I'd rather not have my throat slit by an angry Gemmenite, if its all the same to you."

"Well, such did not happen so you can rest assured that your fears are baseless. As for why she is in here, she chose to be in here. You'd have to ask her about that." Gaikus gave a cheeky smile to the man and then turned his attention over towards Nenra, changing to speak in Gemmenite tongue. It was clear that he was far from a native speaker and that he was from a far off land. The emphasis and pronunciation on some of the words was noticeably wrong, but otherwise the words were correct and the grammar was accurate. "He is asking why you chose to sleep in here with a bunch of rowdy guardsmen rather than in a more comfortable and accommodating quarters. I can already guess the answer, but indulge him."

"Indeed, it is obvious to us, but he was dropped as a child." Aurien interjected with a boyish and discourteous grin. The Guardsman was ignorant to the Gemmenite language, but could tell from his demeanour that it was hardly a nice word about him, and shot a look of daggers at the back of Aurien's head.

A Pairing Beloved

Double post.

A Pairing Beloved

"Not at all, it would have been hard to sleep with three people struggling for space on the bed anyway, no?" Zakroti jested and nodded to the soldier on her right, Gaikus, who simply returned the nod silently. He seemed hardly surprised and certainly not offended by the decision. With that the group split apart, heading their separate ways.

***

"I appreciate her spirit, standing up like that!" Kzaar asked with a hearty laugh, taking a huge bite out of the Dunar leg he was still carrying with him as he overlooked the city street. Gaikus could not fault Kzaars appetite, it was true. It was as big as the man himself. The wind blew softly and quietly, and the chill of night had begun to set in now.

"You were correct that she'll fit in well with the men, I suspect the boy will take no issue with that. It is good to see her adapt deftly to the circumstances, this goes smoother than I had anticipated." The Gaunt commented softly, casting a glance towards the hulking mountain beside him. The warrior swallowed his mouthful of meat and nodded, wiping his mouth clean with a cloth.

"For an Earth gem, she's a little more fiery than expected. Probably chosen for that, or her strength..." Kzaar commented, taking another bite from the leg. Gaikus furrowed his brow for a moment and then gave a weak smile with a raise of his right brow.

"You forget, flowers still have thorns. I would concur with that. The Drakken reapers are good at finding strength at least - though they allow their sadism to get the better of them. The story Aymiria told..." Gaikus trailed off for a moment as he thought back to it. The decision of the girls family to volunteer her over another was itself quite the shocking betrayal, to be certain, but the acceptance of the reapers was a detail he couldn't quite understand. It would likely suit the Oshweli just fine all the same, so he supposed it was not worth worrying about. Perhaps the reapers had thought it a slight, perhaps they had simply been unwilling to argue and wanted to go home. There were a million and one reasons, and it was beyond the scope of his knowledge to discern it.

"It made my horns wilt, Gaikus, to think a parent would do such." Kzaar said through a mouthful of half chewed meat, shaking his head firmly. Gaikus gave a light nor agreement as he stood from his position leaning against the wall and moved back towards the barracks

Gaikus would wish that outlived their children, but he suspected that it would hardly be such a pain for them if they could sell their own so eagerly.

***

Narlemaewel seemed to agree with him about the Gemmenites, Nenra would be hard to win around and earn the trust of and, having correctly predicted that she would hardly chose to sleep with the Lords chosen man alone (he found it interesting that she'd share a bunkhouse with the lot, perhaps she had reasoned that they'd keep check on each other?), it had been logical to choose Narlemaewel. He suspected that Nenra would be highly disapproving of Narlemaewel, and it would likely be best that she not be exposed to him immediately. The last thing he wanted was for a large argument to break out in the bunkhouse of the Narasierre clan, it would have been a grave insult to them. The long term plan for building some trust with her through the garden seemed a logical plan and, by taking his time and not pressuring her, perhaps he could make this arrangement as... Comfortable wasn't the correct word, nothing was comfortable about this, not least for her. Ensuring the least uncomfortable arrangements possible?

Well, the least uncomfortable arrangement would likely have been releasing her, but he suspected that his grandfather would have a lot to say about that - as would the Drakken, in fact. He supposed he was a safer jailer to be with than many of the easterners, but he was cognizant that such hardly excused this.

Narlemaewel agreed with that, for his part, but overestimated its likelihood of success . He believed that the most appropriate course of action was simply to treat them well and allow them to reason out that, ultimately, the position of himself and the Oshweli was one of great magnanimity whereas their own people had sold them out. Zakroti suspected Narlemaewel may have been allowing his own biases to cloud his vision in this regard. Nenra would not assimilate so easily, it wasn't in her nature.

***
Zakroti returned from the washroom to see Miry sitting at the end of the bed, seemingly waiting for him. He could tell from her posture and appearance that she was trying to be seductive and - to her credit - she was doing well. She looked cute and pretty, and he could appreciate that about her. The uncertainty and lack of confidence was shining through however.

He couldn't tell for certain if she actually wanted to do it, at the very least from the look on her face she was trying to seem like she wanted it; He admitted he'd be a little surprise if she actually wanted to do it rather than just was willing to do it as an obligation.

He thought for a moment and then gave her a reassuring smile, approaching her and setting himself down beside her. He reached an arm out carefully to wrap it around her, his other hand gently brushing against her cheek. He leaned in towards her.

"You look very pretty, Aymiria." Zakroti commented with a smile, slowly running his eyes over her body and noting how she'd postured herself. She'd bunched up her shift lightly, and her clothing seemed lightly held on. She was definitely trying to be suggestive and seductive and he wanted to let her know she had succeeded, to ensure she didn't take the wrong impression of what he was about to say. After letting his gaze dwell on her body and peered at the hem of her clothing for several seconds, mentally undressing her, he looked back up to her, lent in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"But we don't have to do anything until you're ready. If you're ready." Zakroti said softly, gently brushing her hair to the side with his hand and shifting lightly on place so he was looking into her eyes. "And when we do, if you're ever uncomfortable, if you change your mind... We'll stop. All you have to do is give me a light pinch to let me know, or pull away, and we'll stop."

Zakroti gave her a sincere and reassuring smile again glancing down to her hands to see if she'd sign a response, gently sliding his hand onto her shoulder as he did.

A Pairing Beloved

The city gates and walls were arranged in a rather typical set up. Like most Drakken cities, there were two layers of defensive wall within the city; The outer perimeter wall which enclosed the city, and the inner wall that enclosed the citadel, a structure deliberately built on a large hill at the centre to tower over the rest of the city.

Drakken earth mages and Gemmenite earth mages differed in one crucial respect; The former were typically far more in tune with the rock and mineral of the earth, as opposed to the plants. The importance of this difference could not be overstated. For the Gemmenites and Humans, constructing artificial hills was a long and arduous process, involving many man days of hand labour. For the Drakken, while it still indeed involved many says labour, they were able to use their greater mastery over the rocks and earth to great effect in cutting these times short. Subsequently, any Drakken city or major fortification worth its salt had, if it did not have a natural hill or mountain to build a keep upon, an artificial hill upon which the citadel was erected, most often but not always near the centre. Attackers would then find, had they breached the outer city walls, that they were now facing a second siege within the city proper, forced to break through the citadel while being pelted with arrows from above. Care was taken to ensure that the towers of the battlements were substantially lower than the citadel, and the interior side of the wall lacked melons and crenel, leaving them open to attack from within.

The attackers frequently used earth mages of their own, of course; Along side siege engines such as catapults, earth mages in besieging forces would work to bring down sections of the enemies walls or exploit cracks created by siege weapons. Defending earth mages would seek to counter this damage. This mage, truthfully, Drakken earth mages the most crucial part of any siege; Fire mages may be able to burn the enemy, and air mages might be able to help redirect arrows and defend their comrades, but teams of earth mages were practically siege weapons in their own right. One of the hardest to defend against, if most time consuming, ways of defeating walls were through earth mages digging mines to sap enemy walls.

Naturally, many of the methods of combating normal tunnelling were frequently employed against these methods too. Moats maintained around walls of keeps frequently led to tunnels becoming waterlogged, sturdy stone foundations were more difficult to mine through and so we're preferred if possible, and counter tunnelling was exceedingly common. Tunnelling and counter tunnelling sometimes led to intense enclosed fights that were dangerous to all participants and frequently resulted in heavy losses on both sides.

Of course, the city being so low standing, even the citadel of Kazark was relatively diminutive, though it lost little of its potency as an imposing symbol all the same, standing taller than anything else for many miles around. Evening has already fallen and the setting sun cast now long shadows from the towers and ramparts of the citadel, giving shade to their approach along the road which road ran up to the city gatehouse. The structure possessed a portcullis at either end like most Drakken fortifications, with the interior of the gatehouse designed to allow attacks from above via murderholes. A handful of symbols adorned the outer wall of this gatehouse, heraldry of sorts for the Drakken ruling clan of Narasierre, a white coloured head of a male Aranz head on a field of black, its horned head lowered as if poised mid charge towards the onlooker.

The Narasierre clan held the ducal claim to the eastern marches of Drakka, collectively referred to as the duchy of Falia. They were often looked on as least of the dukes of Drakka; While there were some fixed settlements such as Kazark in ateas where farming was viable, these were the exception rather than the rule in Falia. Much of Falia was characterised by pastoral nomadism or transhumance, and as such supported a much thinner population. Many of these steppe tribes had traded with their agrarian neighbours for sustenance.Flocks of animals were regularly driven along by herders to graze on new grasslands and much of the Aranzian fleece or Dunar hide that was common in Drakken clothing came from this region.

Historically, however, some Steppe tribes had raided Drakken and non-Drakken alike, and even fought each other to steal food or battle for domination of the best grazing lands. The conquest of Falia by Drakka a century prior had put a brutal end to that; a Falian raiding party had hit a small town along the border regions, an action which usually would not have provoked an overly aggressive response, indeed for a long time it had been simpler for Drakka to simply pay off the more aggressive nomadic tribes than to fight them due to the difficulties in actually chasing them down to make battle.

Unfortunately, a Royal procession had been passing through the town on a tour of the estates and the youngest son of the Queen had been been badly injured during the raid. None knew for certain how he had been injured, and the stories varied; Some said that he had been beaten down by a warrior, others that he had simply been struck by debris from a burning building. Whatever had caused the fateful head injury, the boy was never the same again.

Queen Alaxia embarked on a bloody crusade of vengeance against the Falian tribes responsible - or at least, those she believed to be responsible. Kazark citadel was actually a result of this, the relatively small settlement on some of the only available farmland had been fortified and turned into a military outpost during the conflict. Many a Falian steppe nomad had been executed and displayed here during the conflict; Drakken sewn to their horses or Ganauts and nailed to the walls had been an exceedingly common method of execution.

It had taken a long time, but the 'taming of the Falians' had been completed and many of the nomadic tribes put to the sword. The clan Narasierre was descended from the leaders of the nomadic Naras tribe which had switched sides early in the conflict and assisted in the subjugation of their kin on exchange for power and riches. The depopulation of the region as a result of the genocides had allowed Narasierre to enjoy its new found domination without challenges from its former rivals, though it had also ensured that Drakka had the Naras firmly under their thumb.

Zakroti breathed in lightly as they approached, speaking aloud to the two Gemmenites "Kazark, capital of Falia. Zandre Narasierre rules here, elder of Clan Naras." Zakroti explained briefly to them, glossing over the part about betrayals and genocides. That would not exactly comfort them to know, he was sure.

He needn't have made such an introduction, for as soon as the procession had reached the gate they were stopped by armed guards who approached them, examining their banner for a few moments. Zakroti dismounted and approached the guardsman and there was a brief exchange between them regarding their arrival and requesting right to enter the city; Their entourage far exceeded the typical size expected of travellers and those coming too and from, and being more heavily armed than was permitted there were protocols which must be observed.

Of course, having left their horses here for retrieval, it was known in advance that they were coming, and being the distinguished heir to the holdings of House Unalim, he was not at all surprised when they were swiftly granted leave to enter. They dismounted and returned their mounts to the stables, and the group proceeded through the wide streets; a more than generous amount of space had been left between buildings, which was often fortunate for herders bringing their flock to market.

It was not a short walk to the gates of the citadel where they were to be allowed to stay, courtesy of the charity and kindness of Zandre Narasierre. Once they had reached the gatehouse of the citadel and ascended the winding ramp up to it, Zakdoti took a moment to admire it. It was far from the prime example of a citadel gatehouse, but was noticeably sturdier than the city gate itself. There was a slanted ramp like grove in the structure through which the roof of the interior could barely be glimpsed; Burning logs could be rolled down it during the case of a siege, cascading down the ramp and reeking havoc upon the assailants. For now, it was mercifully clear of such obstacles.

They passed through into a small inner bailey and, like most castles, space inside the citadel was at much more of a premium than the city; It was a keep, after all, and it was easier to defend a small area than a large one - not to mention, easier and cheaper to build. An elderly Drakken woman exited to greet them, passing across the courtyard at a brisk pace before giving Zakroti a polite bow. Her face was leathery and her grey hair was wispy, but she still held a dignified appearance about her, wizened almost. Zakroti removed his sword and scabbard from his waist as he approached her

"Lady Teanne Narasierre, it is my honour to be within your presence. In the eyes of the gods and ancestors, I surrender my sword and ask asylum under moon and star." Zakroti said, extending his hands up and giving a light bow as he offered the blade to the elder, which she accepted.

"The honour is ours as your host, in the eyes of the gods and the great spirit, I return your sword and grant asylum." Teanne replies, and Zakroti rose up again as he took his sword back and afixed it to his side once more. She raised her arm to point to the north of the courtyard. "The night is born. The dormitories for your men at arms aer there. You will have the guest Chambers, there are two rooms. One of your hearth-men may have the second for personal security. Please, follow me."

Zakroti nodded and briefly bid his men a good night, a relatively short warrior silently remaining with them as if predetermined. Zakroti turned to the two brides with light grimace. The wind blew softly into the courtyard and Zakroti raised his hand, causing a light flame to dance around his finger to help light up the way once he went inside.

Honestly, he didn't know what he'd do if he was a water or air mage instead of a fire and earth one. Needing to use candles and matches genuinely sounded so frustrating.

"So, it is up to you whether you wish to sleep in the guest room or the dormitories. I, for one, am not fond of sleeping in a chair, so it seems you're sharing with either myself or Narlemaewel if you chose the guest Chambers. I imagine the dormitories are somewhat less than idea either, given we just dumped a dozen extra men into them." He said simply, giving them a polite and almost jovial smile. It was not an ideal arrangement for the new brides, he understood that much. Especially Nenra, who seemed particularly loath to the idea. He suspected she'd likely be fine with rougher accommodations, though whether she felt like sharing public sleeping arrangements with the soldiers was another matter entirely!

A Pairing Beloved

"Indeed, well... Mother Vivari understands well enough that rigid adherence is not the source of success, but rather the ability to bend and adapt. He who will establish himself must yield according to circumstance; like the hard oaks of a forest, which, though possessed of great strength and built strong and tall, is soon broken by the storm-wind when it remains obstinately immovable. It does not understand the noble art of bending like the willow, which adapts and outlasts it." Zakroti replied with a light nod, standing up from the ground and appraoching the Ganaut again, rubbing his hand along its scaled head softly.

"Sometimes, one must fight, whether they would wish for it or not." Aurien affirmed as he stood up and shouldered his weapon cautiously, peering out over the horizon "Neither Drun nor Vivari favours those who stick to lofty notions over the blunt reality of war; It doesn't matter what the man was killed by a blade or arrow or the slinging of a spell, what matters is that he is dead and the battle is won."

Zakroti furrowed his brow lightly as Aurien spoke. He was right, of course, to put it bluntly the Gemmenite way of war was something he didn't quite understand. Oshweli fought with spell and sword and bow as happily as any other, yet the Gemmenites, it was said, bound themselves to fighting in a more 'civilised' manner by leaving aside those physical implements of war. Zakroti wondered, then, how they supposed they could be expected to win against enemies who wouldn't agree to tie one hand behind their back as they did; Playing fair was hardly to be expected from the enemy in times of war, and that the Gemmenites had managed to find themselves utterly under the thumb of the Drakken with little in the way of effective resistance would in his eyes make it obvious that the status quo was not wise. Perhaps they simply had no other way, and told themselves that it was for this reason than humiliate themselves by trying; He doubted that the Drakken would let the Gemmenites arm themselves enmasse now even if they tried to.

Zakroti turned again lightly in place to regard Nenra, smiling warmly to her as she elaborated upon the bundles of seeds she carried with her. She had sidestepped the other segment of his bait nimbly enough, but that would wait until another time. The servant moved forwards to collect the spent bowls and cups, rushing away again.

"By all means, keep them safe then until we finish our journey and arrive, I will be happily obliged to show you where they might be planted! I should very much like to see them growing at Mu'Jupostat. One day, perhaps, we will be able to try these fruits!" He declared with a small grin, guessing that would be quite some time before they sprouted fruits; Indeed, many of the trees often took four or five years. He could be patient, however, time had taught him that much. He had heard, of course, all manner of half-truths and rumours about Gemmenite gardeners, so he wouldn't dare to speculate on the matter at this time.

"Postat." Zakroti ordered again, causing the hulking lizard to set itself down on its belly once more. He swung himself atop it swiftly and peered towards the Gemmenite women, shifting in place to situate himself within the saddle "You should mount up, we have a long way left to ride."