Lo Pellegrino

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

<Snipped quote by Sep>

That's what I get for being so tried. Anyway, I am currently making Locke's banner. So, you will get two banners (if you are planning to use them).

@The Spectre

Any love for Benjamin?

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

Benjamin Fumio Vipond, PhD in Visual Anthropology

Male-Bodied | 43

Picture a fellow walking the halls of a centuries old Japanese university earning neither the affection nor the ire of the students passing by. Imagine one of relatively normal height and build, perhaps with shoulders a touch broader than some, with a soft mid section that rounds an otherwise slender frame. A slightly furrowed brow and lips made into a thick line, a constant look of minor distraction, like worlds are circling in the mind behind them. What you might remember is the glimpse of a warm smile over a glass of wine, a cannabis cigarette, or a good book. Though in many ways this man might be forgettable, what is most likely to linger in the memory are two synthetic limbs. An odd choice for one so studious, no?

Ship Role Designation: Authority on Human Culture and Art Preservationist, Specializing in Visual Culture
Nationality: Nagasaki Conglomerate
Strengths:

• Synthetics: Benjamin knew several who sought synthetic implants and replacements. Artificial arms to boost strength and retain improve fine motor skills, an implant to enhance the senses to seemingly super-human levels. Renovations of the flesh in the same manner as one who might approach a home with good bones. He knew several who mused over the possibilities and a few who could afford to realize the dream. Benjamin never gave proper consent to his own synthetics. The physicians would say otherwise, of course, and years later he stands tall with the help of two cybernetic appendages. From time to time he still wonders how many who dreamed of such enhancements would come upon them in the way he had. Should he be grateful?
  
  - Chikara M12 Prosthetic Left Arm: The Chikara series of prosthetic limbs was designed for increased durability and strength. While other models boast special features, a Chikara prosthetic is built simply and with one purpose in mind -- to endure where others fail. This series was created by the Nagasaki Conglomerate with the military and law enforcement. Some say the added abilities are achieved in part from muting pain sensors surrounding the prosthetic.
  
  - Jisoku B6 Prosthetic Right Leg: Nagasaki Conglomerate designed the Jisoku series of prosthetic limbs for athletes, infantry, and other professions valuing speed above all. A Jisoku prosthetic is known for unique flexibility, impressive response time, and a level of control of small muscles beyond the average human foot. Rumours suggest that a small percentage of patients retaining other major biological limbs may develop disorders regarding balance over time.

• Slow to Forget, Quick to Remember: Benjamin encountered a professor during primary school with little love for their charges. When a student would act foolishly and suffer a poor grade or discomfort, the professor would simply exclaim, "Stupid hurts. The smart ones will remember." Over the years Benjamin has made missteps foreseeable and entirely unpredictable, however, those words drove him to take every bit of unpleasantness as a lesson learned. Whether taught a valuable lesson or shown great disloyalty, Benjamin shan't forget any time soon.
• Insatiable Appetite for Knowledge: A doctorate is far from proof of great intelligence -- rather it is a symbol for the ability and dedication to pursuing wisdom. Benjamin is a quick study of human expression and behaviour, often deviating from the core of his specialties into a Jungian track more suitable for a psychologist. Such is unavoidable for one so endlessly fascinated by the universe.
• Love is My First Language: Honeyed words, a low and soothing voice, and both a nonthreatening and nonjudgmental demeanor makes Benjamin uniquely likable. Dabbling with poetry in his youth, he noticed the way his words often caused others to swoon and has since honed the inherent ability into a refined skill. Benjamin knows how to read body language and appeal to the individual. After a couple of drinks he might put that love language to work as well -- perhaps keep some distance.

Weaknesses:

• Not Built For That: Benjamin is a proficient boxer, a decent sprinter, and runs a seven-minute mile -- as of 2188. After beginning courses for post-secondary school early the fun and games of sports melted away. The young Benjamin spent long hours at a desk over several books rather than on the track and such has become a fact of life ever since. He is as physically capable as any able-bodied man, but he is among the last of those chosen to lift heavy objects conquer physical feats.
• The Fine Print: Humans are biological creatures who begin to know their bodies before anything else. When this process is changed abruptly, through an accident or synthetic replacement, recovery is key. Benjamin believes the wide berth between his natural and synthetic abilities may make him more susceptible to rumoured disorders associated with robotic prosthetics. No doctor has confirmed his suspicions yet, however, Benjamin increasingly suffers confusion after excessive use of his synthetic abilities.
• Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder: Benjamin has experienced a number of dangerous environments in his life. He walked the nuclear wastelands of Europe and recovered artifacts in the warring South Pacific, however his first venture into space left the most greatest impression. The experience not only took his flesh, it wounded his psyche. Benjamin suffers minor anxiety when faced with reminders of space and may fall into a full panic attack given a few triggers. Greenery helps keep his disorder in check, including plants both artificial and synthetic, as well as cannabis.
• 1/2 Oz of Aged Cannabis Sativa: Cultivation of cannabis began several millennia ago. Almost three centuries prior humanity recorded benefits from micro-dosing key cannabinoids when concerning illness physical, mental, and emotional. Benjamin began using cannabis regularly for such benefits. He is not technically dependent, but small doses of CBD and CBN clearly offer greater comfort.

Personal Effects: Benjamin keeps a small trunk filled with flamboyantly stylized and yet surprisingly dark clothes. He has a modest collection of large, dusty tomes regarding human artwork, visual language, and Jungian psychology on a small bookshelf near his bunk. Beneath his pillow he keeps a small tanto, while a pistol the size of his hand rests at the bottom of his trunk. Finally, Benjamin is known to write poetry, notes, and sketch the artwork for which he is responsible. Learning need not stop during their great voyage.
A Summarized Jaunt Through the Past:Youth inspires a person to dream. The twilight of young naivety and old pessimism wrought an adventurous and educated vision that would lead child-Benjamin to become an anthropologist. He mused about artists and cultures lost centuries ago, one moment accepting their passing and the next daring to wonder what surprises they might have left behind. This strange dichotomy bred a scientific and creative mind suitable for exploration. He would explore such mysteries from the comfort of his bed for nearly two decades.

Benjamin was born and raised in Japan. His Afro-French father and Japanese mother both worked as government officials for Nagasaki Conglomerate as they would for until retirement. The obscurity of his town made government jobs seemingly special, in the same way the children of a cop might earn fear or respect. Growing up Benjamin heard teasing that he needn't try so hard to impress, that the government would swoop in one day with a job regardless -- 'the Conglomerate takes care of its own'. No one understood that Benjamin did not try harder to impress, however, he did so to follow a passion. Benjamin was eighteen years old when fate proved his friends right.

Learning came easier to Benjamin than to most. By graduation from secondary school he was already completing courses for post-secondary and seriously debating what field held the greatest interest. When the Conglomerate made contact he had chosen art history. He quickly found himself placed as an intern for a government agency dedicated to preserving the Asian cultural icons. The work began tediously. Cleaning and polishing works was more common than study or discussion. Nearly a year passed before Benjamin became an employee outright and chose to study communities in the years after devastation. The topic captured him so wholly that the visual expression responding to Hiroshima and Nagasaki became the core topic of his Master's thesis a few years later.

The opportunity of a lifetime came to Benjamin after publishing his thesis. In less than six months, and shortly after beginning work toward his doctorate, the offer to join an expedition came fell at the young academic's feet. Under the tutelage of more astute minds than his own, Benjamin ventured into the long abandoned swaths of Europe. For weeks at a time they would set up in towns nearest to the Red Zones -- regions still too radiated for human habitation -- and from where they launched their investigations. First they would send drones to measure the precise threat of the environment and complete as much work from a distance. Afterward, the team donned protective suits and traveled into the Red Zones personally to recover artifacts of cultural or artistic importance. For every four weeks near a Red Zone the team would spend one exploring the hellish terrain. Six months passed until the fruits of their labour were presentable and after a fortnight of radiation treatments the group revealed their findings. Returning centuries old cultural icons to humanity proved as much moving as it was a political symbol. Benjamin and the group soon found themselves repeating their presentation within the Conglomerate and set for Mars as well. It was during this trip off-planet that the Three Day War broke out. The evacuation notice came too late, leading civilian vessels take off as the violence erupted around Mars. Many civilians died in the chaos, while a fortunate few survived long enough for treatment back on Mars. Benjamin remembers only glimpses of his shuttle being hit. What comes back most easily is the horrific abundance of blood.

Benjamin sought recovery through the life of an academic. Years of intensive work revealed a mind unlike the youth who'd left Earth before, his study now cast in the light of one who survived great devastation firsthand. As Benjamin grew accustomed to the robotic prosthetic earned from the war, so too did his professional reputation grow. Shortly after the turn of the century Benjamin became Doctor Vipond. His life as an expert concerning visual anthropology soon balanced teaching and continuation of his work in Europe. The work continued uninterrupted until his boss approached him on behalf of the Conglomerate about the Genesis Protocol. Until the day Benjamin stepped foot upon Vitae he looked upon the Earth differently.

Code Word: It's like a tree, but a fruit. The skin resembles a strange hybrid of crusty scales and rich bark. Nothing about the appearance suggests something sweet or pleasant might reside inside, that's more fact than opinion too. Some might see the tuft of green sprouting from the top no less than a symbol for nourishment within, but I find such a description befits mold just as well. Go ahead and call this unfortunate lot pineapples, I'll stick to a more suitable name -- complete shite.

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

@The Spectre I didn't mean to laugh your sheet meant to like it :L move it over to the tab when ready.

@Lo Pellegrino you got an image on your sheet? I checked on my laptop once out of bed and it still isn't showing up for me. Still accepted though, just thought I'd check if it is missing the image. Pop it over to the tab when you get a chance.

@Sep

Wonderful! @Sep yes, the image broke from bad coding. All fixed now, however.

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

Benjamin Fumio Vipond, PhD in Visual Anthropology

Male-Bodied | 43

Picture a fellow walking the halls of a centuries old Japanese university earning neither the affection nor the ire of the students passing by. Imagine one of relatively normal height and build, perhaps with shoulders a touch broader than some, with a soft mid section that rounds an otherwise slender frame. A slightly furrowed brow and lips made into a thick line, a constant look of minor distraction, like worlds are circling in the mind behind them. What you might remember is the glimpse of a warm smile over a glass of wine, a cannabis cigarette, or a good book. Though in many ways this man might be forgettable, what is most likely to linger in the memory are two synthetic limbs. An odd choice for one so studious, no?

Ship Role Designation: Authority on Human Culture and Art Preservationist, Specializing in Visual Culture
Nationality: Nagasaki Conglomerate
Strengths:

• Synthetics: Benjamin knew several who sought synthetic implants and replacements. Artificial arms to boost strength and retain improve fine motor skills, an implant to enhance the senses to seemingly super-human levels. Renovations of the flesh in the same manner as one who might approach a home with good bones. He knew several who mused over the possibilities and a few who could afford to realize the dream. Benjamin never gave proper consent to his own synthetics. The physicians would say otherwise, of course, and years later he stands tall with the help of two cybernetic appendages. From time to time he still wonders how many who dreamed of such enhancements would come upon them in the way he had. Should he be grateful?
  
  - Chikara M12 Prosthetic Left Arm: The Chikara series of prosthetic limbs was designed for increased durability and strength. While other models boast special features, a Chikara prosthetic is built simply and with one purpose in mind -- to endure where others fail. This series was created by the Nagasaki Conglomerate with the military and law enforcement. Some say the added abilities are achieved in part from muting pain sensors surrounding the prosthetic.
  
  - Jisoku B6 Prosthetic Right Leg: Nagasaki Conglomerate designed the Jisoku series of prosthetic limbs for athletes, infantry, and other professions valuing speed above all. A Jisoku prosthetic is known for unique flexibility, impressive response time, and a level of control of small muscles beyond the average human foot. Rumours suggest that a small percentage of patients retaining other major biological limbs may develop disorders regarding balance over time.

• Slow to Forget, Quick to Remember: Benjamin encountered a professor during primary school with little love for their charges. When a student would act foolishly and suffer a poor grade or discomfort, the professor would simply exclaim, "Stupid hurts. The smart ones will remember." Over the years Benjamin has made missteps foreseeable and entirely unpredictable, however, those words drove him to take every bit of unpleasantness as a lesson learned. Whether taught a valuable lesson or shown great disloyalty, Benjamin shan't forget any time soon.
• Insatiable Appetite for Knowledge: A doctorate is far from proof of great intelligence -- rather it is a symbol for the ability and dedication to pursuing wisdom. Benjamin is a quick study of human expression and behaviour, often deviating from the core of his specialties into a Jungian track more suitable for a psychologist. Such is unavoidable for one so endlessly fascinated by the universe.
• Love is My First Language: Honeyed words, a low and soothing voice, and both a nonthreatening and nonjudgmental demeanor makes Benjamin uniquely likable. Dabbling with poetry in his youth, he noticed the way his words often caused others to swoon and has since honed the inherent ability into a refined skill. Benjamin knows how to read body language and appeal to the individual. After a couple of drinks he might put that love language to work as well -- perhaps keep some distance.

Weaknesses:

• Not Built For That: Benjamin is a proficient boxer, a decent sprinter, and runs a seven-minute mile -- as of 2188. After beginning courses for post-secondary school early the fun and games of sports melted away. The young Benjamin spent long hours at a desk over several books rather than on the track and such has become a fact of life ever since. He is as physically capable as any able-bodied man, but he is among the last of those chosen to lift heavy objects conquer physical feats.
• The Fine Print: Humans are biological creatures who begin to know their bodies before anything else. When this process is changed abruptly, through an accident or synthetic replacement, recovery is key. Benjamin believes the wide berth between his natural and synthetic abilities may make him more susceptible to rumoured disorders associated with robotic prosthetics. No doctor has confirmed his suspicions yet, however, Benjamin increasingly suffers confusion after excessive use of his synthetic abilities.
• Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder: Benjamin has experienced a number of dangerous environments in his life. He walked the nuclear wastelands of Europe and recovered artifacts in the warring South Pacific, however his first venture into space left the most greatest impression. The experience not only took his flesh, it wounded his psyche. Benjamin suffers minor anxiety when faced with reminders of space and may fall into a full panic attack given a few triggers. Greenery helps keep his disorder in check, including plants both artificial and synthetic, as well as cannabis.
• 1/2 Oz of Aged Cannabis Sativa: Cultivation of cannabis began several millennia ago. Almost three centuries prior humanity recorded benefits from micro-dosing key cannabinoids when concerning illness physical, mental, and emotional. Benjamin began using cannabis regularly for such benefits. He is not technically dependent, but small doses of CBD and CBN clearly offer greater comfort.

Personal Effects: Benjamin keeps a small trunk filled with flamboyantly stylized and yet surprisingly dark clothes. He has a modest collection of large, dusty tomes regarding human artwork, visual language, and Jungian psychology on a small bookshelf near his bunk. Beneath his pillow he keeps a small tanto, while a pistol the size of his hand rests at the bottom of his trunk. Finally, Benjamin is known to write poetry, notes, and sketch the artwork for which he is responsible. Learning need not stop during their great voyage.
A Summarized Jaunt Through the Past:Youth inspires a person to dream. The twilight of young naivety and old pessimism wrought an adventurous and educated vision that would lead child-Benjamin to become an anthropologist. He mused about artists and cultures lost centuries ago, one moment accepting their passing and the next daring to wonder what surprises they might have left behind. This strange dichotomy bred a scientific and creative mind suitable for exploration. He would explore such mysteries from the comfort of his bed for nearly two decades.

Benjamin was born and raised in Japan. His Afro-French father and Japanese mother both worked as government officials for Nagasaki Conglomerate as they would for until retirement. The obscurity of his town made government jobs seemingly special, in the same way the children of a cop might earn fear or respect. Growing up Benjamin heard teasing that he needn't try so hard to impress, that the government would swoop in one day with a job regardless -- 'the Conglomerate takes care of its own'. No one understood that Benjamin did not try harder to impress, however, he did so to follow a passion. Benjamin was eighteen years old when fate proved his friends right.

Learning came easier to Benjamin than to most. By graduation from secondary school he was already completing courses for post-secondary and seriously debating what field held the greatest interest. When the Conglomerate made contact he had chosen art history. He quickly found himself placed as an intern for a government agency dedicated to preserving the Asian cultural icons. The work began tediously. Cleaning and polishing works was more common than study or discussion. Nearly a year passed before Benjamin became an employee outright and chose to study communities in the years after devastation. The topic captured him so wholly that the visual expression responding to Hiroshima and Nagasaki became the core topic of his Master's thesis a few years later.

The opportunity of a lifetime came to Benjamin after publishing his thesis. In less than six months, and shortly after beginning work toward his doctorate, the offer to join an expedition came fell at the young academic's feet. Under the tutelage of more astute minds than his own, Benjamin ventured into the long abandoned swaths of Europe. For weeks at a time they would set up in towns nearest to the Red Zones -- regions still too radiated for human habitation -- and from where they launched their investigations. First they would send drones to measure the precise threat of the environment and complete as much work from a distance. Afterward, the team donned protective suits and traveled into the Red Zones personally to recover artifacts of cultural or artistic importance. For every four weeks near a Red Zone the team would spend one exploring the hellish terrain. Six months passed until the fruits of their labour were presentable and after a fortnight of radiation treatments the group revealed their findings. Returning centuries old cultural icons to humanity proved as much moving as it was a political symbol. Benjamin and the group soon found themselves repeating their presentation within the Conglomerate and set for Mars as well. It was during this trip off-planet that the Three Day War broke out. The evacuation notice came too late, leading civilian vessels take off as the violence erupted around Mars. Many civilians died in the chaos, while a fortunate few survived long enough for treatment back on Mars. Benjamin remembers only glimpses of his shuttle being hit. What comes back most easily is the horrific abundance of blood.

Benjamin sought recovery through the life of an academic. Years of intensive work revealed a mind unlike the youth who'd left Earth before, his study now cast in the light of one who survived great devastation firsthand. As Benjamin grew accustomed to the robotic prosthetic earned from the war, so too did his professional reputation grow. Shortly after the turn of the century Benjamin became Doctor Vipond. His life as an expert concerning visual anthropology soon balanced teaching and continuation of his work in Europe. The work continued uninterrupted until his boss approached him on behalf of the Conglomerate about the Genesis Protocol. Until the day Benjamin stepped foot upon Vitae he looked upon the Earth differently.

Code Word: It's like a tree, but a fruit. The skin resembles a strange hybrid of crusty scales and rich bark. Nothing about the appearance suggests something sweet or pleasant might reside inside, that's more fact than opinion too. Some might see the tuft of green sprouting from the top no less than a symbol for nourishment within, but I find such a description befits mold just as well. Go ahead and call this unfortunate lot pineapples, I'll stick to a more suitable name -- complete shite.

--> Will review in the morning for any cannabis-induced errors.

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

An alcoholic Pilot with no respect for command? Would that really be allowed..? This is funded by the military after-all and they would be putting a billion dollar incredibly important last chance for humanity space ship in his hands.

@OrangeInk

Perhaps these are faults that have emerged/that are emerging with time. Though screening may try, you can't always know when one will crack.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

Waiting on Constable to reply to my last post then I believe we are collabing for a nice bar fight.

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

Benjamin will be a Doctor in Visual Anthropology -- for our purposes preserving human culture and art. I hope to include a section of the ship with physical and digital artwork from over the centuries. Should be done tomorrow morning.

No Turning Back [Sci-Fi Space RP]

I imagine any effort to preserve humanity would consider the value of our cultural traditions. How do you feel about a middle aged Professor of Visual Anthropology recruited on doing just that? Since I imagine there may be a fair bit of combat, it's not entirely unbelievable that the program required at least a basic combat training for civilians. I like the idea of this professor perhaps losing a limb during the Three Days War -- perhaps on a civilian transport from Mars to Earth when the attack began? -- and having a cybernetic replacement.

Thoughts?

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

@Macro I would welcome it, but perhaps check with @constablewalrus too. I believe he is working on a response to my last post, which we may be collabing on. I do believe Faruq is blind to Berich at this point, though I imagine an older man living without violence could be a unique influence. If we don't have the opportunity for them to truly meet here I would hope they do during the next jaunt!

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

All manner of sounds and scents filled the Gaptooth Grin, not all of which inviting. Faruq entered alongside the others and enjoyed the type of attention reserved for sizable groups of travelers unfamiliar. He felt the eyes of strangers upon them. One breton in clothes neither humble nor fine eyed the altmer, Cyrendil, with a studious if somewhat worrisome expression. Meanwhile, a larger fellow with an abundance of body hair, so much in fact that Faruq wondered if the altmer might suspect him among Hircine's accursed, stared at the alchemist and mage unabashed. He wondered if the word stare did the peculiar look justice. And yet as Faruq followed Brynn and the rest to a table a certain charm impressed upon him. The barmaid spoke kindly and with warmth despite appearing worn by the day. If the drinkers seemed a rowdy sort, who could folk letting off steam after a hard day's work? By the time Brynn placed their order, the redguard had decided he liked the place.

What Faruq would not enjoy is drinking in a suit of steel. Years of marching and hard riding from one encampment to another made the feel of armour familiar, but only in the way one learns to accept the need for a tunic, yet yearns to feel the air upon their skin. He slid back his chair and followed the barmaid who took their order a moment before. A great many drunkenly tilted back in their seats or leaped to their feet, each shoving the redguard aside, and somehow leaving the barmaid untouched. His jaw nearly dropped as the woman spun upon a heel to avoid a man so drunk he fell to the floor laughing. Soon the barmaid had arrived to the front of the tavern where she quickly informed the cook and began filling a pitcher with ale from a tapped barrel.

The barmaid spoke without paying Faruq a glance. "Something come to your mind after I left? Too shy to ask in front of your friends, maybe."

"I wonder if there might be a room available. Not for the night, that is. Only a moment," Faruq replied, writing off her words as if the rambling of his mentor. "I assure you I shan't be long."

"Most men promise the opposite. Long or short, so long as you've the coin it matters not. You look a touch soft, no offense, fancy the sausage I reckon?" Her words came with an amused rhythm as she set a filled pitcher atop the bar and began on a second, this time of mead.

Faruq stood speechless before and after the veil of the barmaid's words lifted. Blushing, he finally managed to choke a few words of his own, "I-I need only to remove my armour." The barmaid let out a soft laugh then looked upon red faced Faruq and quickly fell quiet.

"Oh... Of course. Down the hall to your left, second door on the right. Mind that your quick as the room won't be free long."

After an exchange of awkward nods Faruq made his way down the hall to the empty room. He shut the door, ignoring the surprisingly clear moans and throaty grunts that penetrated the walls and looking over the space. The bed was small with simple linens and a chest on the ground at its foot. Otherwise, there was a barrel acting as a nightstand and a wardrobe with doors that looked too weathered to be functional. Faruq could not help but imagine the sorry lot who considered frequented such a hovel. While he fingered the leather straps of his spaulders, he wondered if a painted young woman was being paid to do the same the next room over. The heavy thump against the wall and muffled shout 'smooth like sheepskin' convinced Faruq these men were of a different sort. He might of laughed if the words had not penetrated the walls so easily. After a few moments passed a knock came upon the door. Faruq removed the steel shell latched around his boot, then opened the door to find the barmaid, who quickly glanced about the room. He nodded his thanks for the privacy, strapped his armour to his bag, then made his way back to the table.

Faruq returned to his seat as Cedric and Brynn wrapped up a conversation and poured the first of the drinks. When one of the pitchers came within reach, the redguard stretched out an arm and filled his tankard. The lightness of his arm was surprising at first, but welcome. His leather doublet weighed little and breathed profoundly better than plate. For a moment he thought of the freedom the fiery haired imperial must feel. As the thought turned another direction, a cheery, albeit hard voice interrupted.

"To the living, lads and lasses. Let's laugh as much as we can while we're among them, it'll be hard to after. Now, Faruq, how's about a story or somesuch? Or Cyrodiil, what's it like hunting witches and demons?"

"To the living!" the redguard proclaimed along with the rest. He raised his tankard then enjoyed a long and much needed drink. Faruq gulped down the sweet mead until confident the others had taken notice. Satisfied, he dropped the tankard to the table hard and raised his free hand with fingers spread wide. "Imagine if you will, Faruq began in a low voice, his hand waving over the group. "An ancient city of snow and ice, lost to men and mer alike. Lost to all in fact, except for the forgotten folk who called the city home. These curious folk resembled Cyrendil in all ways but the snow-white glow of their skin. They erected towers and sculpt great halls of ice that glistened in the cloud-softened light of the sun. Truly this was the land of the Snow Elves. They might still be forgotten too were it not for two khajit merchants and their dunmeri mercenaries --"

A good storyteller knows to watch the eyes of the audience. Big, gaping eyes hinted to awe or immersion, while a fleeting gaze suggested a change of material was in order. Faruq noticed the latter first, then heard the ruckus from elsewhere. By the time he turned in his seat, the fiery haired imperial was reducing the hairy man he'd noticed before to a pathetic lump. They stood near the mage and the alchemist and from the way she spoke to them after and the story leading up became all too clear. He watched her saunter back to a table with the sneak-thief, the young imperial's eyes tellingly wide from her display. Faruq furrowed his brow. Pangs of jealousy dug into his heart, though he quickly scolded himself for such immaturity. If he meant to truly continue the path of a proper knight such childishness must be discarded as quick as it reared its head. He repeated the thought to himself until the words became like a chant.

"Pardon me, I seem to have let the ale go right to my head. If you'd excuse me," Faruq apologized and stood from his chair. Though he hated to leave a story half told, especially such a promising tale, his mind and heart had strayed. Perhaps another time.

After a bit of air and a piss, Faruq re-entered the tavern. Only then did he notice Cyrendil sat separate from the rest. Harsh as the altmer was on those his order deemed undesirable, such steadfast conviction felt familiar. Faruq remembered the way soldiers spoke of the Thalmor before battle. Quick as the thought came, the redguard decided to put it to the test. He approached the table casually, placed a hand on an empty chair beside the altmer, and made his introduction.

"I wonder if I might join you a while --Cyrendil was it? My name is Faruq, they call me the Bone Knight."