RolePlayerGuilt

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

@gcold

So, er, any word on the status of my CS?

@xCRAZYxFACEx

Soon, busy with life and the island surface update.

Guys, remember that there is no vote. Everyone is free do what they like. The dwarf bot's programming is not apparent until someone makes a wrong move. So far, it's just guarding the middle.

Some Ashlanders are trying to charge through before the centurion blocks them, some are trying to circle around, and two are staying with Narivar, around the far end door.

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

Niernen has convincing arguments to make towards the Ashlanders to convince them of the Neverarine's treason, but do we really have the time to converse with them? Isn't the Centurion going to attack?

@Hank

She can start talking before the end of my post, while the centurion gets into position. The centurion's programming is defensive in nature. It will hold its ground in the middle unless people starting making sudden moves. So Niernen has a bit of time to show off her Dunmeri.

Updated to include shooting out centurion sensors as an option.

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

Bthamz: One Ashlander per person. There's several things you can do.

-Run back out
-Hold defensive positions
-Hide behind steam and obstacles
-Attack an Ashlander directly
-Attack an Ashlander stealthily
-Attack the centurion
-Reason with an Ashlander
-Shoot the centurion's sensors, which may blind it

Everyone choose their own option, you guys can also suggest other ways to go about it. Dice roll when everyone decides.

Island surface update tomorrow.

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

Bthamz ruins

---

All in all, the fight took about a minute. The reunion between Do'Karth and Niernen took a lot longer than that. When Niernen first entered the scene, Edith thought she was a sailor from the Kyne's Tear. Of course, Madura followed up and explained the unlikely. With Madura being Madura, Edith had a lot of trouble believing what came out of his mouth. But then again, there was no time arguing about it. In the time it took Madura to recount his observation (with unnecessary, journalistic details), Edith found the Hlaalu man went from a certain catch to nothing. Madura wasn’t the only one to blame, as everyone in the party got distracted by something. The bewitching nature of dwarven decorations was the one to blame, or so the books say.

With two down earlier, and two fresh faces inserting themselves, the group was back to its original numbers. They moved again soon, reaching the end of the current corridor, turning into another, and another, before arriving at a crossroad. A few destroyed Dwemer machines littered along the way. One route was blocked by a metal double door similar to the set that guarded the spire above ground. The other way leads into another winding corridor. However, a piece of torn orange fabric laying in front of the doors indicated that Hlaalu might have went that way. Carefully poking the door with her sword, Edith found that it was not locked. Either Hlaalu forgone doing so in haste, or they were being led into a trap. Thankfully, the mercenaries had someone knowledgeable about hidden mechanisms. Edith called up Roze to examine for anything suspicious, and when nothing came out, she pulled open a door in one swift motion.

The next area was a giant chamber. The ceiling was twice as tall as the cramped hallways and the horizontal space equated to a rectangular ballroom. Interspersed along the floor were pipes and bronze tanks. Steam leaked out of valves and flows of water led to the opposite end, where Hlaalu stood among eight other individuals. They were all dark elves, all dressed in clothing native to Vvardenfell; netch leather, chitin, bone and occasionally augmented with Dwemer pieces. One man in their midst was likely their leader, chitin armor, red facepaint and speaking to Hlaalu with a sense of authority. They were speaking in Cyrodilic, voice echoing through the grinding of machinery.

“Narivar,” Hlaalu was croaking between pained grunts, “they killed the rest, at least six of them, we’ve got to move!”

“I care not for them.” Narivar responded. He was looking at a wall, no, another door. A dwarven wrench in his hand was being used on a valve. Steam spew out each time he turned, suddenly, something was moving near the side wall. “Three weeks of work and we are too close to a breakthrough for pirates to interrupt.”

“Narivar Dalas? What are you doing here?” Someone interrupted from the mercenaries’ direction. It was Madura. Edith came close to clocking the damn fool in the face; so much for the element of surprise. She had nearly forgotten about the journalist and the sorceress, thinking they both would be cowering behind the sturdier folks. On the contrary, here was Madura taking steps forward. If not for Edith snagging him back and clamping his mouth, the journalist would be blabbering his way ahead until he knocked himself out on a Dwemer furniture.

Unfortunately, Madura was heard loud and clear.

“Show yourself, pirate!” Narivar barked across the room. Steam began to fill, but both sides could still see the other. “Madura?” He said in a moment of shock, then quickly shifted back to a reassured posture. “You shouldn’t have came here, brother.”

“Why?” Madura shot back, managing to wrestle out of Edith’s grip. “Because you would rather follow old ghosts rather than family? So you stole our parents’ money just to play archeologist.”

“I have found my true family.” Narivar gestured to the eight Dunmers around him, all standing alert with various arms at the ready. “These are the nomads we descended from, and they have accepted me as a brother, as their leader.” Casting his dwarven tool aside, Narivar took a glass spear in hand. “We are wanderers no more, our service finally returns to the Nerevarine. The treasures of Bthamz belong to our true king.”

“Your service goes a spineless appeaser!” Madura spat, dodging Edith’s attempt to catch him. “How could you kneel for the snow demons’ puppet?”

“What? What are these snow demons you speak of?” Narivar hesitated.

Madura was going to say something, but Edith seized him again and held him firmly in place. While the conversation between Dalas brothers went on, steam had greatly reduced the visibility in the room. At that instant, a large pipe above the mercenaries burst open, sending down jets of scorching vapor. Edith raised her shield in time to protect herself and Madura, while others stood far enough to avoid being blasted. Similar steam jets erupted all around, accompanying them were shaking on the walls. A large chunk of the left wall flew open, tearing through the hole was a Dwemer centurion.

“Get out!” Hlaalu screamed to his companions. “Fight through them!” He then proceeded to say things in Dunmeris, causing a stir among Narivar’s Ashlanders. For someone crippled, Hlaalu was uncharacteristically bellicose. Actually, judging by how the orange robed elf hid behind everyone else, he never planned to fight in person.

“Defensive positions!” Edith ordered the mercenaries. Shoving Madura back towards the exit, Edith unsheathed her sword once again.

“Please, this is all a big misunderstanding!” Madura implored everyone. “We don’t have to kill each other, we can-” The rest of his voice was drowned out as the centurion walked to the room center. Steam had occupied so much space that it was difficult to see, though the artificial eyes of the giant construct stared menacingly between the two sides, as if it was sizing up ants to squish.

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

Bthamz + Valen update coming later today, or tomorrow the latest.

How many bumps?

I wouldn't go over one bump every day, anything more is borderline spamming.

Projection

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

Alright, that's enough. Save the memes for Wednesday.

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

@xCRAZYxFACEx, what @Leidenschaft meant is replacing the Mages Guild with Synod or College of Whispers.

Still going through your sheet, will give you my verdict soon.

That's not a thing people seriously say, right? I mean, Akavir's on official maps if I'm remembering right. Like, it's an actual continent in the world.

Besides, that would mean the future of Tamriel isn't all that different from the present. All lore from in-game books and stuff indicate that the technological and magical state of Akavir isn't much different from the rest of the world. So they have katanas instead of longswords and there are also giants and monkeys...cool?

@Frizan

You know, Windhelm was actually sacked by Dr. Brown and his Marty clones. They invaded because they needed plutonium to get their ironclads to 1.21 gigawatts.

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

Firewatch camp

---

Keegan awoke with a pounding head. He supposed this was what a good hangover feels like. The Altmer didn't really drink the foul liquid Nords called mead, so there's little personal experience to back it up. There was this one after party at the Daggerfall Theatre, where he had a little bit too much Bretonic brandy and subsequently woke up with obscene shapes drawn on his face. It was humiliating; some Bretons thought Altmers used phallic shapes as facepaint. From there on, Keegan's been sticking with tea and coffee.

To his utmost horror, it appeared that he had been carried. No matter how hard Keegan tried, the "useless support" never let him go. In fact, he was not metaphorically, but physically carried. His face tried to burn, but it wasn't much burning compared to the burning in his skull (or the burning in the woods). There's likely a concussion going on, and dried blood where his forehead got mashed by wood. Getting up was a challenge, and walking in a straight line felt like arm wrestling Kamals. Daelin knew dragging Keegan along would be a terrible idea, as he would go from "useless support" to "useless unsupportive". So the Bosmer quickly checked up on Keegan and went his way preparing for the next stop.

Thankfully, Keegan wasn't the only one getting wrecked. Though he really should feel bad, he couldn't help but smirk as the mighty "Huntress" got taken down by mere wolves. The wilderness was a truly unpredictable place, an equalizer where even the most experienced get put into their place. As more sense returned to his head, reason, and accompanying it, fear, seeped into Keegan's mind. There was him and the other two injured, along with a Nord who could only be best described as "Nordic". It was afternoon and the sun was bound to set soon. They were left to fend for themselves in the meantime.

Jorwen apparently made decent conversations with the legionary turned lumberjack. Keegan didn't like that in the slightest, as the only thing in common between a Stormcloak and a Legion soldier was killing elves. He stayed away from them and instead, found Rhasha'Dar with gruesome piercing wounds. It looked really, really bad, that's about as much as someone untrained in medicine could assess. Approaching a Rhasha set to gather ingredients, Keegan offered him a flask of water.

"Who would've thought that wood spirits fought harder than elite armigers." Keegan started, remembering how they both stumbled from seasickness into a deadly ambush. When the Khajiit finished drinking, or refused, Keegan took his own sip. “Say, what happened to that crossbow? It would have been pretty handy here.”

Some time then passed and the sun started to retire. Besides the basic team communication, Keegan had neither the mood nor the strength to talk in length. While he rode out the worst of his headache, the Altmer retrieved his staff and made sure it was still serviceable. He avoided Rothvar, that was, until Rothvar surprised him from behind.

“Uh...” Keegan stammered, locked in fear as he thought the Nord was going to beat him up.

“Easy, elf.” Rothvar laid a calloused hand on Keegan’s shivering shoulder. He pointed to the distance with the other hand. “We have guests.”

“Guests?” Keegan spun around to see what that was about. Rhasha and Sevine was nearby right now, and those two silhouettes were someone else, something else. Then it dawned on the Altmer; these shapes were humanoid, but bigger than any man, elf or beast. They were taller than Keegan himself, and that was no common feat considering his seven feet stature. In addition, they were bulky.

“Kamals!” Keegan nearly shrieked in terror.

“Reckon we can take them?” Rothvar asked, not a clue as what he was about to face.

“Reckon you want to join your friends?” Keegan’s eyes widened. He saw Rothvar frown at his words, so he took a calming breath to speak more politely. “They’re the snow demons that sacked Windhelm; no way on Nirn or Oblivion we can fight them, not when we’re all injured.” Sparing a glance to the Kamals’ direction, Keegan saw that they have not noticed the camp, yet.

“We’ve got to run.” Keegan suggested, but immediately regretted saying that when he noticed the path ahead was devoid of any cover, thanks to the thorough burn. Even if there were cover, he’s certain that none of them could run much in their state. “Actually, hide.”

“You do know they’re headed straight to your chief and his folks.” The Nord said.

Keegan could not believe the stubbornness of the old fool, so he resorted to tugging the Nord off the center of the camp. With him out of the way, Keegan ran to inform Rhasha and Sevine. Everyone got behind a bundle of semi-charred bushes just as the Kamals noticed the camp. From where he crouched, Keegan observed that the pair of snow demons were quite different from each other. One was heavily armored and had a giant axe/hammer combo that could easily bust down walls. The other was clad head to toe in exotic fur and cloth, with a metal plate only covering its torso; this one had a bone staff with teeth of ice. The warrior Kamal made a lot of noise from merely shifting its legs, while the mage had gusts of frost swirling around its staff.

The scariest part? They were splitting up to search around the camp.

Only then did Keegan notice the old lumberjack digging. He was digging long and narrow ditches in the ash-covered ground, with some haste considering only the basic tool was involved. The Nord looked to Keegan between handfuls and gestured to the first dugout. “Get in.” Rothvar stated simply.

“Why?” Keegan refused. “This is too damn early for graves!”

“Look kid, you want to hide, right?” Rothvar explained as he finished a second dig. “This is what the legion did to hide. You stay down and I smother you in dirt, except your face. Trust me, we fooled men a lot sharper than you.”

With no better idea, Keegan lowered himself into the ground. He saw the Kamal mage walking closer and closer. He closed his eyes, so dirt wouldn’t blind him, as Rothvar began pouring ash on him. Silently, he mouthed a prayer to Auriel, hoping that this crazy plan would somehow work.