Legion X51

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Double post.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

I broke my arm recently on Harwich beach, and I've only just healed after a bunch of time away from the keyboard.

For those who want to know how one breaks their arm at a beach, I fell about 10 foot from an esplanade onto a gravel beach, and my right arm went 'snap'.

Mass Effect: Wanted

I'm back! Both arms fully functional, and I swear NEVER to walk along that beach again.

I think it be about bloody time I got a post up.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

I don't care if that is how you envisage your character acting, Lucius. What I said to New Yorker applies to you as well. Rape is a sensitive subject that should not be ignored, but nor should it be trivialised, and raping another player's character, especially without the player's consent, is not acceptable. I hope this is the last time we must address this.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Then why bring it up to begin with? I mean, I suppose one could read it as a joke, but... Even so, it was concerning when I read it...

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

The New Yorker said
There's that. I forewent any assault.

Good. Now consign that idea to the bin and make sure it remains there. I'm not having anyone attack my character in such a way.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Arr, because pirates be pillagin', rapin' and swashbucklin' scoundrels.

Arr.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

The New Yorker said
I'll have a little present for one of our newest recruits on the morrow. And when I say present, I mean sexual assault.

Well, then.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Sabuit narrowed her eyes at the Khajiit making his way out of the store back to his erstwhile companion, the other Khajiit at the store's entrance. She could still hear his words ringing in her ears... "my sweet, pretty little Dunmer..." Who the hell was 'he' to refer to her in such a way?! It made her sound like a harlot or a courtesan, and certainly not the daughter of a noble family, however 'minor' they might be in the grand scheme of things! With a sigh, she turned back to the shopkeep, who shrugged and took hold of Sabuit's food. "He's 'such' a character, that one. I swear, he's just trying his best to bed me at any opportunity."

"It would appear he regards all females in the same category." Sabuit responded, somewhat coolly and still unhappy over the Khajiit's method of talking to her. "Regardless, how much?"

"Not one to mince your words, I see..." The shopkeeper was slightly taken aback by Sabi's businesslike countenance, but she took it in her stride. "That will be," a brief pause ensued whilst the shopkeep did some basic sums, "about 12 septims, all in all, and definitely contrary to what that rascal earlier tried to have you believe." Sabuit nodded and fished out her coin purse and laid out 12 gold coins, which the shopkeep collected and placed into a bag behind the counter. "Do you need anything else whilst you're here?"

Sabuit thought for a moment, racking her brains to remember if there was anything missing... Aha! "Yes, actually. Do you have a cutting knife suitable for meat - my own snapped yesterday whilst I was skinning a deer, and I planned to buy a replacement here..."

"One minute." The shopkeep walked over to a back area of the shop and began rummaging around for a knife, leaving Sabuit once again alone with her thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't keep herself from thinking back to the scoundrel Khajiit who had been such 'a character' as the shopkeep put it. He did possess 'some' roguish charm, Sabuit admitted to herself, and his rambunctious, swashbuckling manner was certainly not without it's own charms. He wouldn't look out of place on a pirate ship, she thought with a slight smile. After all, there must be plenty roving the coasts, especially around here. After a few minutes, the shopkeep returned with a carving knife that was exactly what Sabuit was looking for. "The knife is another 10." Sabuit nodded again and laid out another 10 gold coins. "Thank you. Oh, and try not to use that carving knife on Ja'Ranjo, would you? For all of his irritation, it's amusing to see his struggles."

Sabuit smiled. "I will try. Thank you." She gathered together her purchases and headed for the door. Now, to find a suitable place to eat... She headed for a nearby hillock that overlooked the harbour area of the town. There, she lay out a blanket and began cutting the meat into small slices to eat with the bread and butter. A simple meal, but it would do. Once more, her thoughts went back to that Khajiit. Ja'Ranjo, as the shopkeep called him... Sabuit was unfamiliar with Khajiit naming customs, and so if the name meant anything in particular she was ignorant of it, but at least she now had a name to put to the face, of she ever saw him. His words still rang in her ears as a town bell's peal might do if you stood too close to it... It both enraged her that he would have the guts to talk in such a manner... and yet intrigued her. She wanted to know more about this Ja'Ranjo person. She took a bite of bread, butter and meat and thought about how best to approach him if she ever came across him again. Sabuit wasn't good with people - she never had been competent in social situations, and so it was difficult to think of anything to say. Her mind blanked. She shrugged and opened up her knapsack and pulled out The White Devil once again and started to read, taking another bite of her food.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

The turn of a page. The scrape of parchment on parchment as one line of text gives way to another, printed in black by a printer no doubt somewhere in a dusty, dark pressing room in a workshop. Yet just as the printer's art was reflected on the page, so was the writer's art reflected in the words that were printed. On the pages was the transcript of a play, known in Common as The White Devil, or the Tragedy of Duke Paolo Orsini written by some Breton who signed his name J. Webster. Sabuit's latest conquest of the literary persuasion, The White Devil was a good read in her view, but it 'was' rather gory. Murders, poisonings, sex, secrecy and salaciousness - it sounded as if it could have come from the Great Houses, but it was no satire of the Dunmer, rather an illustration of the depths to which rich society could plunge in their lust for power, wealth, and sometimes each other. A Nord passed by, shuffling about the bookstore-stroke-library seemingly without much of a care in the world. Sabuit mused to herself on the irony of seeing a Nord in a bookstore - perhaps even the most barbaric of races could sometimes find it within themselves to approach more civilised culture, she thought as she suppressed a wry smile. The Nord paid no attention to her, which was perhaps for the best. Her temper was not what it used to be; frayed by 2 years of life on the move, Sabuit had become distrusting, suspicious, almost verging on paranoid. She could see potential enemies in every corner nowadays. But losing oneself in a good book was one way of calming the nerves, and it had worked time and again for Sabi, as it was doing this time, but the pangs of hunger were beginning to catch up to her. She hadn't eaten in several hours - her first meal was some smoked and salted cod with some dried fruits, and it was beginning to wear thin when it came to keeping her going. Sighing quietly to herself, she replaced her bookmark (a simple piece of leather, upon which her mother and father's name written, to remind her of home) and snapped the book shut, before placing it in her knapsack and getting to her feet. As she walked out the front door, she accidentally bumped into an Argonian, who leapt back and began apologising profusely. Sabuit rolled her eyes and held up a hand to stop the Argonian from talking. "It was an accident. Leave it at that." she said tersely, before crossing the street and approaching a general store known as The Traveller's Knapsack.

'How quaint,' Sabi thought to herself as she walked in to see no fewer than three Khajiit at the counter - two customers and the proprietor of the store. One of the Khajiit was making... well, rather poor efforts at flirting with the proprietor, who shrugged off his advances, whilst the other Khajiit on the 'customer side' of the counter looked as if he was about to burst into tears for some reason. Sabuit didn't care to find out, she was hungry and she needed something to eat. Walking over to a row of smoked meat cuts hanging on hooks over in the corner, Sabuit took one down and examined it carefully to see if there were any flaws or issues with the meat's quality - she might be hungry, but she wasn't prepared to take her life in her hands by eating foul meat. Satisfied with the quality of the meat in question, she got hold of some bread and some butter from nearby, before walking over to the counter and placing the items carefully upon it. "How much do I owe you?" She took a sidewards glance at the Khajiit who had been talking to the proprietor beforehand and looked him over. He seemed like a well-built sort of person, though the single iron pauldron was somewhat puzzling to her - did he intend on shoulder-barging people for a living, or was it the only scrap of metal he could afford? No matter. So long as he didn't bother her, she wouldn't bother him. Meanwhile, she noticed that the other Khajiit, who had been in a parlous mental state when she walked in, had walked out of the store carrying some items which she couldn't make out in the brief glance that she caught of them, but what she assumed were some parts to form at least some basic protection from the elements, or perhaps a blade.