One medium sized post, extra cheese, no lettuce ready to be served!
Apologies for the sort of handwave over the "he really didn't have time to get to know them over the past few weeks" I didn't want to just build a character relationship (more then a 'slight, unbacked by fact opinion') out of the blue.
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Valsiore had always found the rain to be calming. It never fell in a particular pattern, it pattered against windows, struck the flagstones, and gathered in the puddles in what could only be described as one giant ball of wibbly wobbly…chaos.
Now, with his back against the worn stones of some long-forgotten human tower, he was treated to a full view of the rain. Not far from him, under the protection of the crumbling structure’s roof, his fellow travelers were seated close to a campfire, preparing a bowl of stew.
He was unsure of his newest companions. They had seemed to know it each other well enough, which left him in the dark, and then their frantic, month journey across the sandy wastes of Hammerfell had not exactly put him on the best of terms with them. It’s a difficult thing, being a social being, when there’s a dry rasp in your throat from dust and a burning hunger in your belly from what could generously be described as slop.
They were all fighters. It seemed like half had been responsible for the eruption of insurgency in Hammerfell, the riots and assassinations of high-ranking Dwemer officials. They were battle-scarred and tough, but they were tired. The rebellion against the dwarves was a failure; the dwemer had crushed the Redguards and their allies beneath the heels of their finely polished boots. Too many had died, including Ehsan, the Redguard with a pregnant wife back home.
Exhausted, he ran his hands down the length of his wooden staff. The weapon had seen far too much use the past few weeks, and he had been forced to use two of his soul gems to keep it fully charged. Now he was left with only one, and he was not yet sure if he was ready to commit to binding another sentient being’s soul into the black gem, dwemer or not. They had scrounged up smaller ones in their travels, ones he could fill with a mudcrab or two, but the staff was a beast when it came to magical energy and nothing less than a Grand Gem would sate its hunger.
“We should move South, towards Falkreath. The forests will offer concealment and the open terrain advantage the dwemer and their machinations seem to depend on are severely reduced. Crossing the Reach to reach Solitude after crossing the heart of dwemer territory to a besieged capital with one way of access is paramount to suicide.” One of the travelers, Marassa, if Valsiore recalled, said.
There were murmurs of agreement. They all knew that it would another long, and exhausting journey, and likely to lead to another amount of troubles. But they had hope for survival there, and at the moment, that was all they needed to make it sound like paradise.
“I agree with Falkreath,” his voice cracked a bit when he spoke, so he opened his waterskin and took a long drink. With the rain, it was easy enough to refill and he could, for once, drink as much as he liked. “It’ll be hard to scrape by there, but it will give us all a chance to sit down and think without a Dwemer staff inches from our arse.”
Another drink from his skin before he continued, “I’ve fought this kind of war before. If any place can give us the time to think and the ability to move quickly, it’ll be the trees.”
Now, with his back against the worn stones of some long-forgotten human tower, he was treated to a full view of the rain. Not far from him, under the protection of the crumbling structure’s roof, his fellow travelers were seated close to a campfire, preparing a bowl of stew.
He was unsure of his newest companions. They had seemed to know it each other well enough, which left him in the dark, and then their frantic, month journey across the sandy wastes of Hammerfell had not exactly put him on the best of terms with them. It’s a difficult thing, being a social being, when there’s a dry rasp in your throat from dust and a burning hunger in your belly from what could generously be described as slop.
They were all fighters. It seemed like half had been responsible for the eruption of insurgency in Hammerfell, the riots and assassinations of high-ranking Dwemer officials. They were battle-scarred and tough, but they were tired. The rebellion against the dwarves was a failure; the dwemer had crushed the Redguards and their allies beneath the heels of their finely polished boots. Too many had died, including Ehsan, the Redguard with a pregnant wife back home.
Exhausted, he ran his hands down the length of his wooden staff. The weapon had seen far too much use the past few weeks, and he had been forced to use two of his soul gems to keep it fully charged. Now he was left with only one, and he was not yet sure if he was ready to commit to binding another sentient being’s soul into the black gem, dwemer or not. They had scrounged up smaller ones in their travels, ones he could fill with a mudcrab or two, but the staff was a beast when it came to magical energy and nothing less than a Grand Gem would sate its hunger.
“We should move South, towards Falkreath. The forests will offer concealment and the open terrain advantage the dwemer and their machinations seem to depend on are severely reduced. Crossing the Reach to reach Solitude after crossing the heart of dwemer territory to a besieged capital with one way of access is paramount to suicide.” One of the travelers, Marassa, if Valsiore recalled, said.
There were murmurs of agreement. They all knew that it would another long, and exhausting journey, and likely to lead to another amount of troubles. But they had hope for survival there, and at the moment, that was all they needed to make it sound like paradise.
“I agree with Falkreath,” his voice cracked a bit when he spoke, so he opened his waterskin and took a long drink. With the rain, it was easy enough to refill and he could, for once, drink as much as he liked. “It’ll be hard to scrape by there, but it will give us all a chance to sit down and think without a Dwemer staff inches from our arse.”
Another drink from his skin before he continued, “I’ve fought this kind of war before. If any place can give us the time to think and the ability to move quickly, it’ll be the trees.”
Awesome guys! I'll see about getting up a post tomorrow either after class or during work (uhhh, totally will focus 100% on my work, I mean).
PaladinFoster said
Can't say I have a girlfriend, that doesn't really matter to me anymore. Not more than it does to anyone really. I can say I don't need this baby blanket though.Gotta say the college experience rules. Real life rules. I have friends, classes, work, personal projects. I create art and get drunk, live life. Oh god I remember that now. I meant it as a joke but that's just so creepy and blech. Typical of younger me. Anyway yeah fuck like 90% of the people in Spam at the time of my leaving. Necroing this thread just to piss you buttchuggers off. Smell ya later.
Good on you.
Thought Manifest said
, your Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter costume rocks! Great job! I loved that movie!Here are a few pictures of my Halloween costumes... Yes, you read that right. Costumes. I tend to dress up multiple times for Halloween. I have a problem...
Kick ass costumes!
Don't blame you for doing multiple costumes. It's one of the few times of the year where it's 'socially acceptable' to go crazy with dressing up.
That Harley Quinn one was kick ass (Although I do have a soft spot for her and the Joker in general).
Dervish said
I quite like it. I have no costume this year because my plans fell through last minute. Bitching party I assume?
There's a street in New Orleans (Frenchmen) that is simply bitchin' on Halloween night. Packed with people, everyone in really cool costumes, etc. Got pretty drunk, danced a lot, bought my first pack of cigarettes (not so proud of that last one).
In regards to the RP, once the Scorpion group updates I'll write up something, but I won't be able to work on it until sometime tomorrow. Party tonight and most likely crashing there so I won't be able to make it to a computer for until some time later tomorrow.
Voltaire said
Fraid not. Managed to get the day off so I'm hitten the club. Gonna P-A-R-T-Why? Because I gotta!
I assume you're clubbing in your Halloween costume? As all should do.
Thought I'd share my Halloween costume with you guys!
"History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle, but forgets the blood." - Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
"History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle, but forgets the blood." - Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
Leidenschaft said
Duly noted, everyone.Psyker, as a fellow student, I understand your predicament and I believe you should put class in front of RPing like you've been doing. People who have unfinished posts, please finish them and post them. Feel free to clarify that for those in the scorpion group, 101.
You mean give them a rough idea of what's going on in the scorpion group?
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