MacabreFox

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

@MacabreFox Hey sorry, I was waiting for a while for an indication that you were still kicking. I didn't mean to hold things up.

@BurningCold

Sorry about the miscommunication! I was just waiting for the same in the PM.

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

So they had reached the first tower without much trouble. Brona’s gazed swept around the interior of the first tower. Jagged obsidian walls, a befitting design for Daedra she mused. Niko, and Valentis were the first to set out across fiery chasm. Her eyes remained locked on the fading image of their backsides until they had reached the other tower.
Turning back around she eyed those who remained. Engel, Renart, Aveca, Orintur, Adamiir, Naenya, and Bardeck with his hound chose not to go. To be fair, they could remain behind… but strength was in numbers, especially in a place like this.

“Bah. I’m not going to stay here and twiddle my thumbs. Death comes to those who wait. And waiting around like a pigeon with my beak up my ass isn't my kinda business.”

So, with a spring in her step, Brona followed after Niko and Valentis. If Death was coming for her, she'd rather meet it head on then tremble and quiver like the last leaf to fall in the first of winter.

The narrow bridge leading across the chasm was… daunting, to say the least. Heights didn't bother her, but falling into a gurgling pit of fire did. She swallowed hard, lifting her arms out to the side for added balance.
When she made it halfway across the bridge, the heat from the lake of fire caused her brow to bead with sweat. She could feel her asscheeks sticking together as sweat poured down her back, the tunic clung to her like a second skin.

‘Nothing but rocks and fire. And demons. And nasty little imps.’ Brona thought.

It seemed the Divines were on her side today. She reached the end of the bridge, and rushed after the two men.

“Can't leave me behind, you hear?” She said with a smile as she approached them. “Sometimes a woman's touch is all you need.” Brona winked at the two of them.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Just a heads up, the collab I posted for Dervs and I is actually a two-part collab. We're working on getting the second half up here soon.

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

@BurningCold@MacabreFox

Going to need this collab finished real soon, guys.

@MiddleEarthRoze

I'm still waiting on Cold to get a return post. If it's easier, I can just do a solo post! I think that would work much better than a collab. That way, others can follow if they want. Brona is gonna go either way.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Reflection

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A By-Product from Master @Dervish and I

26th of Sun's Height, 4E205, 06:32…

The morning brought with it a sense of odd serenity that was underlined with no small amount of tension. Word had spread about the murders and the subsequent arrest of Daixanos and Tsleeixth, and it seemed to Do’Karth that Dawnstar wasn’t unlike the kettle of stew he was tending to at the moment; while the weather was pleasant and the seas weren’t particularly rough, everything could boil over at a moment’s notice and create no small amount of chaos that stood to destroy the fragile and tense peace, namely between the town itself and the Argonian refugee camp.

There was a war going on, and even despite the battles the mercenaries had fought the last few days, Dawnstar seemed to pretend it was in its own self-contained world with its own problems that didn’t involve the rest of Skyrim. Both the guards and the Argonians were too busy staring daggers into each others’ souls that they were blinding themselves to the unspeakable evil that was only days away from attacking, rendering their petty conflict completely pointless. The Khajiit sighed, dropping a few sliced potatoes in with the salmon chunks and broth he’d already had going.

He felt somewhat disappointed and ashamed of himself for feeling relieved to be leaving on the Steelhead to go fight the war proper and leave the problems of Dawnstar, and his friends, behind knowing full well all of which might not be there when… if they returned. Do’Karth lost Jorwen, but he still had Sevine. As far as he was concerned, she was the only one he needed to concern himself with keeping safe. He cared about his new friends, of course, but there was still a part of himself that was screaming at every fiber of his being to just pick up and leave, as he had always done when the local situation was unfavourable. He was a wanderer, not a mercenary. He’d only signed up with the company to begin with because he thought he’d be helping people in need and seeing Skyrim in relative comfort and security. Now he was being dragged across frigid seas and being thrown against snow demons that had such a horrifying disregard for life and the power to see it through that he didn’t see a way for the war to end favourably for anyone except for the Kamal and their damned Dunmer pets.

The ladle circled through the stew slowly, kicking up chunks that had settled and Do’Karth’s mind fluttered to Niernen and the whirlwind of emotions that had transpired since she came back from what Do’Karth thought was certain death. Could he be so cavalier about her fate if he’d left, what about Solveig? Didn’t he promise Jorwen he’d keep her safe? Solveig didn’t need him guarding her, she was more than capable of that on her own and she had Sadri, who was coming to Bleakrock with the ship and away from Solveig. And Niernen had more or less professed that she loved Do’Karth on their way back after her rescue, it was so sudden and unexpected. He’d shown her simply the same kindness and compassion he’d shown everyone, but did they have a bond from their fights in Windhelm, and did she just latch onto the most familiar and comforting person after her captivity? He wanted to help her, and he would, but they weren’t feelings he’d be able to reciprocate. Do’Karth smiled in spite of it all, a terse and humourless upturn of his lips. He’d courted the affections of two beautiful women, and he’d already decided on one at the detriment of the other.

This one cannot help them all. he decided, rounding out the general sentiment of the morning. The Khajiit simply could not be everywhere at once, and people were going to get hurt and he’d be powerless to do anything about it. It just left a sour taste in his mouth that there were promises he’d not be able to keep, and against his better judgement, he’d become rather attached to many of the company. He decided he was a fool for signing up to begin with.

Looking back at the tent flaps behind him, he thought, But had this one not, Sevine and Do’Karth never would have met. He clutched the amulet of S’rendarr about his neck, cradling it for comfort and reassurance. Once more, the divines made life much more uncomfortable and clear than he had wished, and they were silent to his prayers.

The growing light of early morning struck her as she pushed back the canvas flap. Her eyes squinted to adjust to the change in light, and so she stretched her aching muscles. When the sleep from her eyes had faded, she came join Do’Karth seated by the fire. She leaned into him, and rested her head upon his shoulder. Moments passed before she pressed her lips into his cheek.

“Good morning.” She said, only to turn her head away to stifle a yawn. “I had the strangest dream just now.” A playful grin spread across her lips as she gazed at him, one arm propped on her knee to cradle her chin.

“I dreamt that I was feasting in the great halls of Sovngarde. And there on the table were silver platters piled high with delicious foods. Sweet rolls, roasted goat leg, seasoned venison steaks, and the most wonderful tasting stews. I had plate after plate of food, and yet I couldn’t fill my stomach. I went through an entire platter of apple pie, and I still wasn’t full.” She let out a chuckle as she continued, “I think it was your cooking I was smelling.” Sevine returned to her early position of leaning against him, her head on his shoulder.

“This one is afraid that this breakfast is not endless.” Do’Karth said with an apologetic smile. “Do’Karth is but a simple Khajiit, the divines tend to show off when it comes to even the simple matters of breakfast.”

He tilted his head so it rested upon Sevine’s. “Do’Karth trusts you slept okay? How are your wounds?” he asked, concerned. She seemed to be limber and in good spirits, which was encouraging.

“Mmm, endless or not, at least my stomach will be full.” She said, “My wrist and ankle feel much better, the swelling has gone down considerably. There is little pain when I stretch the muscles. It is my side that aches still, the bruising remains, and when I breathe in deep, there is a sharp pain. But nothing that I can’t handle.”

“In terms of sleep…” Sevine shook her head, the startling news of the arrest of Daixanos and Tsleeixth left her angered, “I slept when I could. I am more frustrated than anything. I know that they are innocent, and I am more annoyed that I cannot help in this investigation. But… to Bleakrock we must go.” Her head lifted from his shoulder as she stared at the flickering flames below the stew.

Then, she cast a sideways glance at Do’Karth, “What about you? How do you feel?” She implied, hinting at the duel from the afternoon before with Leif. Her feelings were a mix of annoyance and pride; annoyed that Leif had let his emotions get the best of him, and proud that Do’Karth rightfully put him in his place. Or so she hoped. Sevine uttered not a word about Khazki either, now was not the time to mention a new friend she had made… if she could call her a friend.

The Khajiit paused stirring the stew and seemingly froze in place, wondering how much he should articulate. In the end, he decided it would be best to be open. “Do’Karth is uncertain about his path fighting this war, it was never his place to be involved in it. Had he not found people to care for, he would have left long ago. He fears losing those people, he is conflicted about how he should feel, about… well, everything. This one is trying to do right, but the path is not clear. He feels Dawnstar will not be there when we return from our mission, all because the idiots are too preoccupied in fighting each other than preparing for the Kamal. Everyone hurts, emotions are raw and volatile, and how are we supposed to fight a war when we keep losing more of ourselves and our friends along the way?” he asked, grinding his pointed teeth between each other in frustration.

“Leif attacks Do’Karth out of jealousy, one of our few remaining commanders was named after kicking a Khajiit to death, and every single day we’re thrown against the unknown and come back lesser each time. It cannot go on like this, it is as if we are buried up past our chests in sand, and each time we exhale, it collapses tighter so our lungs draw less air. Do’Karth thinks this entire ordeal is exceedingly stupid.”

His words left her silent. He had spoke openly, and his words were painfully truthful. What could she say? She could try to console him, or explain some of what he said, but in the end… Do’Karth words were the truth.

“You are right.” She said. A silence filled the air before the sound of her clearing her throat broke the void. “I will not console you, nor will I attempt to explain any of these conflicts. There is no need to do so.”

“Leif attacked you out of jealousy, and also out of heartbreak. I have to admit, never have I witnessed him act the way he did for as long as I have known him. I wish you to know this. I pity him, for his emotions will be his downfall. He has a fool’s heart when it comes to love. I would hope that he has some sense of decency to come and apologize. If he does not, I will not hold that against him.
“Even more so, you are also right about everyone’s emotions running amok. I am inexperienced too, by joining on with a mercenary company. To think I have signed my name in a contract for payment does not bother me. What does trouble me, is the sole fact that we do not have a sole leader to guide us.
“Sure, we have Ashav, but do we ever see him join us on these missions now? Not so much. We have Dumhuvud, who is not exactly a leader by all means, we have Ariane, and Edith, we had Farid, we had Daelin, but they do not work collectively as group. They do not work to lead us. They work for pay. This is what I have come to see. There is no leadership when those around you are concerned about their next pouch of septims. Perhaps… someone should step up, and become a leader to our rag-tag group. A leader in the sense of leading by example. Someone who is able to step away from situations and view our problems without bias. Someone...like you.”

That caused Do’Karth to blink, completely blindsided by the suggestion. “This one does not see your logic. Was Do’Karth not just explaining how he did not wish to be here, and it was only people he cared for that kept him?” He asked, taking Sevine’s hand in his own. “Do’Karth is not a leader, nor does he have a mind for the more intellectual parts of war. This one would never dare try to take authority away from the leaders we have, what we need now is more unity, not less. He just… he just thinks we need a break, away from the war. Let others handle the fighting for a change. Moreover, Do’Karth doesn’t wish to lose sight of who he is. This war reminds him more and more of the life he left behind. It scares him.”

For once, her attempt to inspire those around her… had failed. She had blindly stepped around the pieces he had said. A heat rose to her cheeks as her gaze shifted to the furred hand enveloping her own. She gave a tender squeeze before finding the courage to meet Do’Karth’s amber eyes.

“My love… I cannot run away. Even if I am afraid, I cannot. I cannot forsake those who would live to see another day if it meant that I stayed my ground and fought.” Sevine paused, withdrawing her hand from his grip.

“If you wish to leave… I will not stop you. But I could not go with you. My duty is here, contract or not. Even in these dire times, my country and my kinsmen need me.” Her throat tightened at the mere thought of fleeing Skyrim, or even to seek refuge far from the fighting. As some would say, it went against the very grain of her nature. While the retreat at Nightgate left her with doubts concerning her own morals, and weakness as a human, she knew she could not flee all of Skyrim.

Do’Karth’s head lulled back to look at the sky, perhaps finding some answers in the clouds that listlessly passed overhead.

“This one is not going anywhere.” He promised, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. “Do’Karth has learned long ago that what he wants and what he needs to do are entirely separate things. He could not abandon you, or the others. This one just wishes to be open, to let you know that he is terrified and has a lot of misgivings about his circumstances, but at least Do’Karth has Sevine.” he said, opening his eyes and returning to the stew. It looked about done. He began to dish it out with the well-worn wooden ladle into matching bowls he had laid out. He desperately wished to take a pinch of moon sugar, but given the circumstances, he decided he did not wish to give the wrong impression to Sevine. He just needed to clear and purify his thoughts and soul. “Do’Karth just thinks everyone needs to be given a chance to rest. We’re all suffering, physically and spiritually. Every day is a new battle, lost friends, more chaos and discord. He feels that we’ve forgotten how to live in our pursuit of trying not to perish to these snow demons.”

She readily received the bowl of stew, steam rose from its liquid surface, curling into the air. This time around Sevine did not speak at once, she let her thoughts form into coherent lines of speech. As a warrior, and a hunter, she saw much of the world in a different light. Yet, when it came to Do’Karth, she felt… well that was just it. Sevine, for once, could not identify her own feelings. She loved Do’Karth, that she knew.

Closing her eyes as she brought the lip of the bowl to her mouth, she blew a gust of cool air across the surface. Were death to meet her in these coming days, the last thing she wanted was to lose her sense of taste. Her mind ventured back to that evening spent in Leif’s house. The image of Do’Karth tending to her leg came in a flash, the soothing glow of the fire, his amber-orange eyes mirroring the flames, and even his tender touch as he focused on her leg. These were all welcoming in her mind’s eye. And if Do’Karth had noticed, or not, he would have seen her smiling.

She opened her eyes, and gazed into the stew she cradled. Her memory recalled their conversation shared under that roof of House Raven-Stone. Sevine revealed unto Do’Karth, how she became the Huntress. She revealed to him the guilt, and the shame she carried with the honor of having a Name. Her deed of slaughtering a man in cold blood while he relieved his bowels. There was no honor in that, no honor in killing a defenseless man. Even if he had nearly cost her her very life. When she opened up to Do’Karth about the truth behind her Name, he accepted what she had done, and did so without judgement. Much to her surprise, Do’Karth then revealed to her his deepest secret. And she, in return, had not judged him.

Now, her eyes shifted to Do’Karth, studying him as he ate. As she admired the straightness of his back, his words came back to her in a wave. Surely, being in a relationship was something that she was not experienced in. She had to bury her initial response as a soldier, and remember that Do’Karth was her lover.

“Forgive me…” she started, lowering the bowl of stew so as to address him properly, “I forget that… you are not a common soldier. I must remind myself to stop and think before I speak. I appreciate that you are being open with me, and sharing your thoughts. I hope that we have a break as well. War is exhausting. It is but a whirlwind of endless chaos. When I fought against the Legion, I often wondered if it was ever going to end. But now, I have you. And that changes everything that I’ve ever believed.” She then returned to her stew.

The Khajiit smiled warmly, but tiredly. “There is nothing to forgive. We each have a unique perspective on this world, for this one was once an assassin who has since sought atonement, and you are a warrior who has the rhythm of battle beating to your heartbeat. It gives you a dangerous beauty and sense of pragmatism Do’Karth admires, speaking of which…” he said, pulling a wrapped bundle from under a travel pack, offering it to Sevine with both hands. “A gift for this one’s Huntress.”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the gift he held towards her, causing her to set aside her stew in haste. “Do’Karth…” She began, taking the gift into her hands. A tight lump formed at the back of her throat as the weight of the object felt familiar. It had to be… With great care, as if she were unraveling an Elder Scroll itself, her fingers peeled back the canvas wrap. Cold metal gleamed in the morning light, and in her hands she held a new, steel axe.

Fingers curled around the shaft as she bent her head, her teeth biting into the flesh of her lower lip. “You… I…”

Her head lifted, she wanted to look him in the eye as she said this, “Thank you.” Sevine set the axe aside, and rose to her feet.

She quickly closed the distance between them, where she then threw her arms around his shoulders. “This is more than I could ever ask.” And so, she kissed him on the cheek.

Do’Karth wrapped his arms around Sevine, careful not to knock against his own bowl or the cauldron that still bubbled over the dying flames of the pit. “You would have a hard time being a warrior without a trusted weapon.” He smiled, burying his chin in her shoulder blade. “And what kind of partner would this one be if he didn’t do everything in his power to keep you safe?”

“I love you, Do’Karth.” She whispered into him, “Everything you do for me… have done for me… it has been out of genuine kindness. I cannot thank you enough.” Slowly she pulled away from him, and gestured to the food.

“Stew is best eaten hot, no?” She teased, and settled back down beside her new weapon, and reclaimed her bowl.

“Do’Karth once had to dine on nothing but beetles and grubs for a week. He decided a long time ago that cold stew is better than the alternative.” He chuckled, picking his bowl back up and leaning over to give Sevine an affectionate peck on the brow, already feeling much better about the day ahead, his misgivings fading like the morning sleep. “There’s much more that this one will do for you, until the end of our days. Perhaps he will find you a crown, or a nice cabin by the lake. For now, Do’Karth is thrilled that you humbly accept the gifts he can afford on his meager salary.” Her eyes twinkled at his words, her mouth full of food prevented her from replying, she hoped he would not take offense for her silence.

The look on her face was enough to make the small token of his affection, the simple but rugged axe, seem well worth every coin spent.

The two finished their meals and tidied up, and within the hour were down to the docks, the ship waiting to take on its passengers. Not fearing the sea as much as he had even a couple missions ago, Do’Karth stepped aboard with reassurance, his staff braced across his broad shoulders, feeling that whatever was going to come was something that Sevine and him could face together. Looking to the sun’s illuminating beams breaking through a stubborn cloud, he smiled, having found the guidance and reassurance that he so desperately needed.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@gcold I posted the refined version of my investigative post for Leif, let me know if I need to change anything ^.^

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

A Steelhead for a Hard Head

 
Early morning of the 26th of Sun’s Height

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    Black faded from his vision as each eye opened one-by-one. The wooden rafters greeted him as he came to realization what had happened the prior night. After promising his word to Solveig that he would help her find her father, dead or alive, he returned to Windpeak Inn. Once inside, he purchased a room for the night. Exhausted still from the fight with Do’Karth despite Niernen’s healing powers, he crawled into bed with no desire to engage in drinking. Sleep took him quickly, until the sound of Dough-Boy’s voice woke him. He staggered from the warmth of his bed, his words barely registering in his head as he jammed his feet into the worn leather boots.
    “Awaken! Awaken! Emergency meeting!”
 
    Much to his dismay the emergency meeting actually held a degree of… well, emergency. As Ashav explained, there were a series of murders in Dawnstar that raised the attention of both the locals and the Jarl. And to boot, the blame fell on Daixanos and Tsleeixth. Even though it was the dead of the night, and Leif had just woken from a deep sleep, he could still comprehend the severity of the situation. Not to mention he knew, he knew, that Tsleeixth wouldn’t dare do such a thing. After all, why would he murder the Paxseech? That especially made little sense, even for Dax. Why would the Argonians kill someone they respected? Sure, there were always outliers, but that seemed odd even for an Argonian. This… these blatant string of murders held little when it came to logic. The captain of the Steelhead, Vurwe, and Gordo, and Almad were also murdered. He hadn’t met the woman nor her bodyguard, but he vaguely recalled Almad, a rather striking Redguard, who served Dibella with a passion.
   
    His attention focused on the makeshift tail as an iron-clad Khajiiti woman, who he had yet to exchange proper introductions, sniffed the object. From her observations, she could not distinguish any particular scent asides from the smell of well treated leather. However, the meaning of this was lost on him at this time of night.
 
    Under Ashav’s direct orders, he, and several others were charged with the task of conducting an independent investigation. This would allow the company to find the true murderer, and clear both Tsleeixth and Daixanos from judgement. Leif returned to his quarters for the remainder of the early morning hours. Though he was tired, sleep did not come so readily this second time around.
   
    Resting on his back, his eyes inspected the intricate grain of the rafters above his bed. He pondered for a while, on the matter of the murders. ‘This series of unfortunate events cannot all be the source of spontaneity… These people either have a connection that I have yet to understand, nor cannot see, or the murderer is using these murders for something far more sinister.’ Truly, his own thoughts unsettled him, yet with the heavy weight of sleep pressing down on him, Leif succumbed to familiar touch of sleep.
 
    He woke this time, to the sound of a loud commotion in the hall. At first,  his mind darted to the siege of Windhelm. ’Kamals?’, he wondered in a daze of fading slumber.
 
Leif sprang from his bed, he tugged on his clothes in record speed. Orvar would be proud, and perhaps liken his spryness to the time he fell asleep in the barn of an unfortunate milkmaid he bedded. He skipped washing the sleep from his face, and half-fell half-scrambled for the door. The door flew open to reveal a scene organized chaos. He saw sailors, and mercenaries alike from the company bustling about. Many shouldered rucksacks with weapons sheathed.
 
‘Bless you Talos… He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that the commotion was not the source of a Kamal invasion. No, these were the members readying for the mission to Bleakrock. His mind wandered to Niernen, would she be one of the many to go on the voyage? He settled for keeping an eye out for her in the least, and avoiding Sevine or Do’Karth for the day. He could imagine how much of a spitting viper the Huntress would be after the fight. Leif returned to his room, and gathered his belongings, pausing to wash his face before returning to the hall.
 
For the voyage ahead armor needed mending, blades sharpened, supplies replenished, and farewells to be said. He spotted many a familiar face, but kept to himself as the shame of the duel with Do’Karth hung heavily on him like an ominous black cloud. Already, whispers of the duel had circulated within the company, and amongst the citizens of Dawnstar. A Nord defeated by a Khajiit, what a sorry sight to behold. He snatched up an apple from a plate on the long table, and set out for the docks. While he could inquire after other people, he decided that speaking with like-minded people would yield the best results. So, he left Windpeak, and headed towards the Steelhead.
 
    Seated on the edge of the dock where the Steelhead sat moored, Leif watched the bustling activity aboard the ship. For this mission, the Steelhead would be put to use. Under his scrutinizing eye, he could see why the ship was selected. In comparison to the Kyne’s Tear, it was slightly bigger in size, but more importantly, better armored. After the last encounter with the Kamals on the water, possessing an adequately armored ship could end up saving lives.
 
    For over an hour, he watched the crew hustle and bustle aboard deck as he bit lazily into the apple. Once he reached the core, he chucked it into the waters below.
 
“Tell me you’re not a sailor aboard the Steelhead.” A peculiar voice caught his attention, the owner sounded female, though by the connotation of their words, they didn’t sound particularly happy. His head twisted over his shoulder to see a stocky Nord woman in leather armor, her hands were planted upon her hips while a long blonde plait fell over one shoulder. Her mouth formed a hard, thin line. She didn’t seem to pleased on seeing him.
 
“What’s it to you?” Leif asked, if he wanted information, he didn’t want to scare anyone away.
 
“Because if you are, then I’ve got half the mind to put a boot to your backside and send you into the water.”
 
“In that case, no ma’am,” He scrambled to his feet, and extended a hand for her to shake, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
 
“Call me Laila.” The blonde said, a grin splitting her face as she accepted the hand.
 
“Laila it is. I’m Leif. Are you a sailor onboard?” He gestured to the ship behind him.
 
“Aye. We’re making ready to leave for Bleakrock. You’re one of the mercenaries, eh?”
 
“I am. Though I won’t be going on this voyage.”
 
“What a shame. You look like you know your way around a ship.” Laila added with a shrug of her shoulders.
 
“I know my way around more than just a ship.” He said, a sly smirk spreading across his face.
 
“Come again?” She growled, and brought one hand up into a curled fist.
 
“I didn’t mean you any harm, I’ve just got a funny way of going about my words. Can I come aboard with you?” At his request, Laila regarded him with suspicion, her eyes narrowed as if she would unveil something about him she had not seen before. Satisfied that she had not, the Nord let out a gruff sigh.
 
“As long as you put yourself to work, I don’t mind. It’s Torbin you’ve got to watch out for, he doesn’t take too kindly to lolly-gaggin’.”
 
“And who exactly is Torbin?” Leif asked, now trailing behind Laila as she headed up the gangplank.
 
“He’s our new captain. Used to be the first mate until… until Alberich met his end. Alberich was a good captain, he was fair, and knew these waters like the back of his hand.”
 
“Wasn’t Alberich the Thane of Dawnstar?” Leif asked, keeping pace with her as she headed below deck.
 
“Aye.” She grunted, and then pointed to a congregation of barrels. “We’re to make room for the extra persons we’re to take on. Help me roll these above deck.” As she ordered him what to do, Leif watched in awe as she hefted one barrel up the stairs as if it were a sack of flower.
 
    When he made his way above deck, sweat already beading on his brow from the physical labor, he spotted Laila standing where three other barrels awaited. Standing alongside her was a grey-haired Nord, a man who reminded him of Atgeir. He had a thinning crown of peppered hair, and a beard riddled with wooden beads.
 
“Put it right here, we’ll rope them together and box them in to prevent them from rolling about the deck.” She said with a pointed finger.
 
    Rolling it into place was certainly easier than rolling it up the stairs. When he did as asked, Leif dusted his hands, and focused his attention on the older Nord. “A pleasure to meet you.” He said, reaching out his hand to shake. “The name’s Leif.”
 
“Likewise, Aarne Oak-shield.” The seasoned sailor cracked a toothy grin, wherein several teeth were missing. A repulsive odor clung to his words as he spoke causing Leif’s stomach to turn in protest.
 
“Say… you wouldn’t happen to be a Shield-Brother from the war now, would you?”
 
“I was. I’m proud to have served my country and my kinsmen. I wasn’t going to let us be crushed under the heel of the Thalmor.”
 
“Nor I, I didn’t have a problem with the Empire until they turned on their backsides like a bunch of lily-livered cod. That’s when I had enough.” Laila piped up, now that he had the chance to stand closer to her, he could see that she was older than, perhaps by five or seven years. Her eyes held deep lines that creased every time she smiled or squinted.
 
“I take it many of the sailors aboard served in the war?” Leif asked, nodding his head in agreement to their statements.
 
“Aye. You’re a Nord, you know how it goes.” Aarne said, and clapped him on the shoulder. “I believe there’s more barrels to be moved.” It seemed he wouldn’t get much information out of these weathered sailors.
 
    Over the course of two hours, Leif helped prepare the Steelhead for departure. He didn’t mind in the least, after all, his ulterior motives were more benign. If he could get the crew to think less of his appearance, the better.
 
    He found an opening to address two sailors who were arranging beds and hammocks to accommodate the mercenaries. Laila and Aarne had both gone their separate ways, and had provided little information on the events that had unfolded the past few days. Their interests were focused on preparations, not wagging tongues.
   
    By his experience from nearly a decade spent sailing, he could tell the two sailors were still green around the ears.. One had accomplished in growing a full beard, while the other sported a patchy growth of brown hair on his chin. He joined them without a word, and began tethering the hammocks.
 
“I don’t give a hoot what you think, Markus, I’m just tellin’ ya how it is. I’m sick, and I’m tired o’ being pushed around like I’m nothin’ more than a piece o’ shite. Cap’n Torbin’s not experienced enough to be leading us. And if you ask me, I can tell you right quick that something’s not right.” This was the second time Leif had heard of sailors aboard the Steelhead speak ill of their newly appointed captain.
 
“O’ don’t be daft now, you clog-head. Rorin, when did you ever see Torbin speak ill o’ Alberich? Huh? Tell me, now.”
 
“Well, I ain’t ever heard him speak bad of Alby, but I’ve damned well seen the looks he’s given him. Like he just ate a bowl o’ sour porridge.” This caught Leif’s attention, he tried to hide his surprise and kept his back to them as he worked slowly on securing the rope for the hammock.
 
“And these cut in wages ain’t gonna cut it. Sure, three septims less ain’t much, but it’s my three septims.”
 
“Three septims less you can spend on ale, eh?” At that, they both chuckled. “Well you don’t hear me complainin’ now do you?”
 
“Well that’s cause you ain’t got two mouths to feed, Markus.” He grunted with disapproval.
 
    Leif knew he had to find a way to question them, the problem was… how? An idea dawned on him, and if he didn’t act now, he would lose his chance to uncover any possible leads.
 
“How many more of these hammocks do we need to put up?” He asked, drawing their attention.
 
    At first, the two sailors looked at Leif, puzzled perhaps at the question, or rather, puzzled at his presence. The one called Markus reached up and scratched his head, a look of complete confusion washed over him.
 
“What did the Ca’n say, Uthred?”
 
“Uh… I think he wanted ten?” Uthred, as his partner called him, began to count the hammocks they had erected. “We need four more.”
 
“Right.” Leif agreed, his chance was slipping fast. “So your wages have been cut too?” It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the delay in his pay from the company, that’s what he had been told at least.
 
“Aye. Seems like it’s all politics anyways.”
 
“What makes you think that?” He asked, certainly an interesting take on the subject. He was beginning to doubt that these two men weren’t so blockheaded after all.
 
“Well this is how I look at it-”
 
“Oh shite, here we go now-”
 
“Pipe down, eh?” Markus snapped. “Right, so here’s how I see it. We’ve got the bloody Kamal to fight, yeah? And now we’ve also got these damned Argonians holed up outside our city. We’ve also got refugees from the east pouring into Dawnstar. So the problem is, resources are dwindling, and guess what? Prices are going up. And they’re going up because Skald likes to keep his belly fat along with all of his friends. So that’s the problem for us. No one wants to hear the common man’s plight.”
 
“Do you think it’s got anything to do with the murders here?” Leif asked, highly aware that he could draw unwanted attention from that question alone.
 
“I don’t know. I’ve got two theories on that though.”
 
“You, and your theories-”
 
“Ey! What did I say? Like I said, theories. Theory number one, those murders are a big ol’ feckin cover-up for Alby’s murder. No one seems overly concerned that the Thane of Dawnstar, and cap’n o’ this ship is dead. And no one, seems to be curious why he was targeted. But listen, I tell you what, that Torbin is awfully close to the jarl. He’s run a few special missions for ol’ Skald. Who knows, maybe Torbin wanted power all along, and Skald saw a chance to kill two birds with one stone. Help out Torbin get a promotion, and also find a way to get rid of those nasty blight-infested lizards.”
 
“So what’s theory number two?”
 
“Yeh, theory number two is just that. Someone here doesn’t like, I dunno, the Argonians, or maybe they don’t like Skald, but my point is this. Someone is trying to stir up trouble in Dawnstar to cover something up. These murders are a good cover-up for something more evil afoot here. For all I know, maybe those lizards they arrested are the culprits after all. I still think that Torbin’s got a hand in this.”
 
“Well… did you see anything suspicious a few nights ago?” he ventured, wondering just how far he could press them for information, “Did you happen to see Torbin, or perhaps one of the Argonian’s slinking about?”
 
“Now that you mention it… Torbin was visiting Skald that night Alberich was murdered.” Markus said, stroking his chin.
 
“Oi, but you know what? I did see a big ol’ commotion late that night. There was some strange hooded person lurking around the docks that same night too.” The one Markus called Uthred spoke up.
 
“Did they look...like a lizard? Did you see a tail, perhaps?” Finally, he had found something worthwhile.
 
“Come to think of it… I didn’t. But whoever that person was rather short. Coulda been a Bosmer.”
 
“What makes you think a Bosmer?” Uthred said through a surprised laugh.
 
“Bosmer’s are short! Why else? Though I suppose it could have been a woman… or maybe someone younger?”
 
“Like a child?” Leif felt as if he were being led in circles now, it seemed that these two were just full of suspicions about everything. He couldn’t make heads or tail of the situation. He shook his head at the two of them, and did his best to refrain from letting out an exasperated sigh.
 
“No, no, not a child. Like a youth, you know, one of those wily teenagers. I know that Sigrid, she’s the widow of Elof, she’s got two hooligans for sons. I forget their names. They’re pretty set in their ways, just like their father. Can’t tolerate anyone whose not a Nord.”
 
    With this newfound information, Leif helped finish setting up the hammocks, and arranging the beds before he disappeared above deck. He caught sight of Hargjorn and gave him nodded a hello. He also spotted Ariane with a peculiar staff next to her, and worst of all Dumhuvud. He skirted around him, and disappeared off deck, making his way back into town. Perhaps this widowed Sigrid could provide him more answers on the matter, that is, if he could find her.

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

@MacabreFox

Aha, no worries bud. Are Adamiir and Brona looking to volunteer for the torture chamber pleasant new spire?

@MiddleEarthRoze

MAAAYYYBBBEEEEE

_{I'm game}

@BurningCold thoughts on that endeavour?

Also, Roze, I've included you in our collab just so you know what's going on :3

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

@MacabreFox

Everyone is currently still in the tower - as of now, only Valentis and Niko have volunteered to go across the bridge. If no-one else volunteers, they'll go by themselves.

@MiddleEarthRoze

OOOOOH SNAP

lol

I've got read through these posts slower man. But thank goodness.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Gcold Seeing as how I've not had the chance to write a post in for Leif, would it be possible/logical for me to still write a post for him interacting with the Steelhead crew before they depart to Bleakrock?