OOC: Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset anybody, and I didn't think anybody WOULD get upset. Afterall those are tiny, insignificant actions which have no real affect. Its nothing story-altering, so please don't take it as a big deal because I made somebody lean up against a wall or say 1 single sentence.

OOC : Sorry all...Ive been out all day so coming back to this meaty chunk of argument comes as somewhat of a shock. Jonas, no matter how large or small an action is, it's still seen as rude to control someone elses character. Makign Shepard lean against a wall is just as bad as making him pull out his sword and attack other group member's. Please note that a RP'ers character is their unique little creation, they have taken the time to put the effort and creativity into devising a character for this story. Taking that character and controlling it yourself can be seen as insulting, and I wont permit it any further.

This could be your first RP in which case we all make mistakes, but I will not tolerate controlling characters or adding in time-jumps without my say so a second time. If you find these terms unfair then you have the right to leave the RP if you wish, but Im more then happy to have it be water under the bridge aslong as you are prepared to adhere to the rules I have listed above in the future.

As for the rank change...aslong as you dont go bossing characters around and acting all high-and-mighty all the time, I am cool with it. Ranks arent a major factor in the RP, their there to help people explain their characters more thoroughly and flesh them out.

Im going to say that the group is still back in the Infirmary and havent arrived in the quarters of Dras yet. Im sorry for this Manu as it makes your previous post null and void ... but I made this decision to not hurry the RP along due to a innocent mistake.

I will post an IC soon...any further argument can be sorted out via a PM to me, lets not turn this into a flame war, we were off to a good start.

post cleared

OOC: i was away on the weekend! now let's get back to writing out this RP in peace

OOC: this is Sir Adam, new account Adam of Morrowind, ill post an IC post once someone else posts

[OOC ? let's get things restarted then]

"Doc, if you can do some quick fix on the two of them" Pointing at Shepherd and Boros "then we can move to see this Dras. I's be stuffed if I have the slightest clue about what he's up to to need us." She frowned as what they seemed to be good at suggested some possible answers. "Even if I hope he's not planning to get us involved in some cloak, dagger and conspiracy sort of mess, three out of four of us fall straight on the sneaky side of an army. Which don't strikes me as a good omen about what he might want us to do."

She concluded after a philosophical shrug "But no matter what, he's an officer and we're only lowly grunts, so we'd better stick our doubts in our pockets and move."

OOC: I'm still in if you guys are

IC:
"I grow tired of idleness," Shepherd complained with a scowl, "The lout and I will be able to survive without treatment for a time. Let's just go see what the House mer wants and be done with it." He then stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Or we could ignore this 'summons' and carry on about our own business, it matters not to me."

Shepherd stood and moved purposefully toward the door, pausing and glancing over his shoulder to look at the others. He was sure he could be doing something more productive than traipsing around the compound searching for a self-important S'wit with this bunch of N'wah. He thought about how this all started, including the trinket which still occupied his pocket. Dispelling the notion that all this was somehow his fault, he thought: well, maybe I don't have anything better to do, really.

OOC: lets get this show on the road

ICC: Dralliam, swearing, walks into the Medical tent where the healers are, doesn't pay attention to the others, he grabs a healer by the healer by the throat and demands his gold for some Ale, "GIVE ME YOUR GOLD YOU S'WIT!" he said with anger, the healer gives him a pouch of gold, Gives Boros a evil stare and walks away, he walks up to a worker, "Heres 50 gold to clean the stables for me!" he said, the worker grabs the gold and runs to pick up a pitchfork.

Dralliam walking into the Officers side of the fort, hoping to find a Officer to give him a new assignment, a dunmer walks up to Dralliam and gives him a note, "Whats this for?" he asked, "He only said it to read it and follow the instructions" he said and walked away.

"Greetings Dralliam, i am Dras, meet me in my quarters, i have a proposal for you, if your interested meet me in my quarters! signed Dras" he puts the note in a pocket inside his Tunic. and walks over to his quarters.

While they were getting ready to leave, Fara spotted a slight altercation in a corner of the infirmary. The same brutish dunmer who had already caused the mess in the canteen was now extorting money from one of the healers. Seemingly considering that as a non combatant he was fair game for a little racket. I can't believe the moron did that to a healer. Maybe he think he's good enough that he won't need their services. Or he's just too stupid to figure out the risk he's taking. No matter what, I don't think I'm good enough at fighting close and personal to interfere.

As soon as he had left, Fara moved to the healer, who was still rubbing his sore throat where the maniac had grabbed him, fishing a meager fistful of about ten golds and handing it to him. "Take that, I don't think it's as much as what that bully just stole, but I can't give more. But if you want to bring the affair to an officer, I'll back your testimony. With the two of us, and the bruises on you throat, odds are we can get him tossed into the slammer." Then added with a nasty smile "Or maybe you'd prefer me to put some feathers in his back, or find some volunteers to give him a whole set of bruises. It pisses me when some idiot is harassing the guys who are going to patch me up if I need it. Right now I'm requested by an officer, but as soon as it's done, I'll come back here to discuss how you want to handle it." It never hurts to be on the healer's good side. That extra inch they'll go to save your hide might just be the difference between making it and buying the farm...

Shepherd fell over when the big Dunmer burst through the entrance to the infirmary. "Agh, not again!" he exclaimed reflexively, covering his wide open red eyes with one arm.

When the assault failed to come he lowered his arm slowly, peeking around to see what happened. He saw the angry mer accost one of the healers like a common thug and then rush back out the door. Shepherd barked a disgusted laugh and picked himself up off the ground, grabbing his hat which had fallen off in the excitement.

"And I thought I was good at making enemies," He chuckled.

He watched Fara walk over to talk with the beleaguered healer, his eyes dropping to her hips as they swayed with her stride. Maybe I should start making some friends instead, he thought before coming to his senses and realizing how un-ashlander that would be. Shaking his head briskly before replacing his hat, Shepherd strolled over behind where Fara was standing talking to the healer and leaned against the wall casually. When she had finished speaking, he added, "I'd be willing to make some gold if someone, anyone really, wants to pay to see that guy pay. I think it might be fun too, but don't you think we'd better get moving, sera?" He glanced in Boros direction to see if he and that other healer were coming too, "Officers don't like to wait, especially stupid Great House ones." His tone carried a hint of dissent mixed with sarcasm.

Dralliam, happy with the gold he had extorted, only 26 peices of gold left, had he forgotton about the 50 peices of gold he gave the worker he rushes to the stables. "Give me back my gold or you won't live to see the end of the war!" he snarled, "Okay, okay here!" he gives him the gold back with a sense of death, "Hahahaha see you around you little s'wit!" he said, "you Maniac!" he yelled back, Dralliam looked back with a more reddish glow in his eyes then usual, he pulls out his Crossbow and shoots the worker in the leg and the arm with steel bolts.

Running away while the worker was screaming. he runs into the Mess Hall for a bottle of ale, he justs takes the bottle without paying for it. Enjoyed, Satisfied with his Ale he re-reads the note and makes his way to Dras' quartars passing the same medical tent again.

He walks into the officers territory, walks into the room, he looks at Dras, "ill just sit down and wait till your done whatever your doing" he said....

OOC: Sorry it took so long to post, I've been pretty busy.

The sound of metal hitting rock filled the air of the gloomy cavern. The only light in the darkness were a few torches scattered around, casting eerie shadows across the room. The miners and slaves were excavating the newest room in this forsaken hole and it was Aslyn's shift to make sure it got done. He loathed the job, but thankfully his shift would be over in a few moments, his relief would show up and he could get out of there. Nothing was ever simple down here though, which he was soon reminded as a loud crack echoed across the room and rocks began to slide to the ground.

Next a scream pain drowned out the last sounds of the rock slide. Aslyn let out a sigh at the noise; this was just what he needed at the end of his shift. He lifted the torch he was holding a little higher and made his way to the screams, there was too much dust in the air to see what the problem was from a distance. A small crowd of miners was gathered around the Dunmer screaming, and the mer had good reason to scream. The Dunmer's lower leg was bent in a ninety degree angle, most of the miners look sickened by the sight but it was something Aslyn had seen before. He let out another sigh and stuck the torch into the ground before kneeling beside the wounded kinsmen.

"Alright, this is going to hurt." Aslyn said, as the man beneath him clinched his teeth. The man apparently though that Aslyn was going to put his leg back into place, so it probably came as quite a shock when his fist slammed into the mans face.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" The man shouted, now holding his bleeding nose instead of the broken leg. Aslyn let out a laugh at the mans situation, first a broken leg and now a broken nose.
"Sorry, it was supposed to... Well..." Aslyn simply shrugged, not figuring it was worth it to explain why he hit him and instead let another hard fist drop across the mans face. This time it worked, the Dunmer went limp as he was knocked unconscious. Sure he was going to have a major headache when he came to but it was better than dealing with the pain of a leg that was broken that badly. Wasting no time he quickly scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder. When he turned around he saw that the crowd of miners were still gathered around him.

"What are you all looking at, huh? Get back to work!" He shouted, soon the sound of the picks hitting rock filled the air once again. What a great way to start the beginning of my break. He thought to himself as he hoisted the wounded and unconscious Dunmer a little higher on his shoulder and then headed out of the excavation site towards the infirmary.

A while later the Dunmer entered the infirmary, covered with sweat and dirt, both from carrying the man on his shoulder. He dropped the man onto the nearest empty cot as a healer rushed to the wounded miners' side, Aslyn dropped into the nearest stool himself. He pulled a small bottle of brandy from his tunic, unplugged the cap and took swig before examining the other occupants in the room. Besides the healers he noticed three Dunmer and a female Bosmer that all seemed to stand out from the rest of the people in the room. From his chair he raised his bottle of brandy to them as if to say hello, then quickly took another large swig.

"Sounds like a good idea to move, I agree with you that most officer like quick obedience ? and the sort of pompous jerk he seems to be even more. Helps them with feeling important and all that crap. Bah, I suppose even amongst the ashlanders you have their ilk ? low-raking bosses who don't feel secure in their rank and heap crap on anyone lower than them to remember themselves they're higher."

As she started heading for the door she had to back up to let two mens enter, the unhurt one hauling one obviously wounded ? out of the mines judging by the amount of dirt and mud covering them both. Hr he dropped his charge and sat down to take a large sip from a flask. Brandy from the smell of it. He's a newcomer who's still got some saved, or connected. Sure beats the paint-peeler I'm able to make. She answered his unspoken salute with a casual gesture before heading out of the tent toward the officer's quarters. which were esaily found by looking for the driest, most well-lit portion of the caves. Slightly nervous as lowly grunts weren't exactly welcome there. Blech, I guess I'll have to salute and all that mess. And being neither male nor dunmer, it's a fair bet I'll have it twice as bad as the others Bah I suppose it beats being mistaken for a maid or even a pleasure slave.

Dralliam looking at Dras, Dralliam hears screams of pain, "Someones been shot with a bolt!" someone yelled, "Oh god i can't feel my leg or my arm" said the mine worker he had wounded nearly a moment ago.....

Dralliam walks out of Dras' quarters, looking towards the Medical tent, he sees the mine worker with the bolts in one arm and leg, Dralliam laughs with excitement, he sits back down in a chair in Dras' quarters, he looks at him and sees he is working on plans of some sort but doesn't pay attention, he pulls a flask of Ale that he stole 5 minutes ago and takes a huge swig of it.

OCC: a short post

OCC Edit: can't make Dras talk without character controlling him

OOC : Sorry for the long wait folks...Iv'e been writing speeche's for college. A tedious task, I assure you.

IC:

Boros had been lingering around in the background for some time now...head slunk and hands in his pocket's. Today was no ordinary routine. A bar brawl, a trip to the infirmary...miners with broken legs. It had all been a bit much for his usual lazy and slow-paced life style, so he was staying out of it, twiddling his thumb's, and imagining that he was indeed sitting in Surans House of Earthily Delight's with a bottle of whisky in hand and a fine woman dancing infront of him.

He was snapped out of his dreaming by Fara, of whom was travelling ahead to the officer's quarters , and the boisterious one known as "Dras". Whaugh?! Oh... he muttered in his mind as he looked up in an initial state of confusion before realising he should probably follow the party.

He quickened pace before stopping halfway and turning to the man of whom had healed Shepard earlier. "Are you going to come with us?" He asked hopefully. "Who knows? We might well need some healings spells should this whacko lose his cool, what with us probably being in trouble and all..."

Dras was writing in his journal as a Dunmer entered, he paid no attention at the moment, but he was glad to see it was Dralliam, one the few he sent for. There was a scream somewhere out in the hallway and his visitor got up to check, but then sat back down and uncorked his flask. Dras continued writing but spoke, "So you've made it at last Dralliam, good, but I'll need to wait and see if the others come along before I get to tell you why you're here." Dras put down his quill and looked at Dralliam, fine looking Dunmer. Dras then took out his prized sword and began polishing it, waiting for the ones from the Infirmary to arrive.

When Fara walked out the door Shepherd followed, ignoring the latest entrant to the infirmary. He decided not to wait for Boros and the other one; they'd catch up if they intended to come along.

Quickening his pace he overtook and passed Fara on the way to the sergeant's tent, deftly ignoring any officers he passed. One looked at him as if getting ready to say something; Shepherd merely stared him down without losing a step. The officer scowled but remained silent and carried on. If any of these pretentious blowhards have a problem, they can voice it or B'vek off. Approaching the appropriate tent he unceremoniously tore back the flap and strolled inside.

The House mer was sitting behind a desk polishing a sword casually; Shepherd frowned and started to speak but then heard a noise behind him and turned to address it instead. Dralliam was there drinking gluttonously from a flask. Shepherd paled, his eyes wide and backed away a step, "Oh B'vek," he swore unconsciously, then muttered, "I think I have the wrong tent," before pulling his hat down over his eyes and making for the door.

"Hold it!" said Dras looking up from his sword, "I need to speak with you, where are the others?" and just then the others from the Infirmary walked into his tent. "Ah good, well then, I have need to speak with all of you." Dras took out a small earthenware jug of Matze, uncorked it and drank deeply, "You all know of the Daedric Princes, and the artifacts they bestowed upon Tamriel, I assume. There happens to be one, in the very ruins we are in." He took another pull from his booze, "I'll get to the point. In order to win this war, we'll need help otherwise we WILL be crushed. I have a plan, to unite the Great Houses, get their help, and ultimately drive the Empire from Morrowind and overthrow them on their own soil. But before I go any further, I want to know if any of you are interested, speak now, or leave." Dras took another swig, finishing his Matze, and waited for a reply.

As she entered the tent, Fara almost skidded to an halt as he noticed the same bully. But forced herself to enter and keep a neutral face. Maybe he's going to want my word on what this moron did ?

But when he spoke about his reasons to have called them, it turned out completely different. And if she didn't care much about what he suggested, who he suggested it to stunk to high heavens. Still standing, she relaxed her stance a bit, slightly crouching and getting ready to move while her hand unobtrusively dropped close to her shortsword's hilt. "There's two things I need to know before answering. First how is that 'plan' of yours holding with Drothan ? I won't bite the hand who's paying me. And second." She looked straight at Draliam, watching attentively his stance for any sign of attack. "Do you need the sort of guys who go on bruising his own army's healers to shake them for coins like I've seen that jerk do maybe ten minutes ago ?". Her gaze making it clear who she had in mind.

Dralliam hearing what the Bosmer had said, he has been staring at her since she got in the tent, his eyes were redder then ever, "Oh shut it you S'wit! why did you join this army anyway? so back off you wench! and let me decide whether i should shake you down for some coin!' he said, Drallaim whistles three times and his Ashlander men come into the tent and sit next to him.

"what do you have in mind Dras? with this Artifact? i have connections with the Fighters Guild to help our cause! plus while i was being held in the detention area half an hour ago some of our rangers bought in someone very important and is being held in the cells!" he said..... "Where is this artifact? i will gladly get it on my own!" he said with great confindence as he stood up and his men with him.....

As Dras spoke Fara clenched her teeth, holding her breath to keep calm. Her mind bringing forth the image of one especially obnoxious dunmer lying flat in a puddle of his blood with an arrow though the back of his neck. Her growing anger crushing whatever fear she might feel even as he called his bullies in.

"Bah, I'm in for the coins. Plain, simple and reliable greed. Not from any need to huff and puff and make myself feel important by bullying whoever can't fight back. I wouldn't be surprised if you and your bunch were there just for the chance to indulge in some good old-fashioned lootin' and rapin' of cyrodill farmers who haven't needed to raise a weapon for at least two centuries." Spitting the words in an utterly contemptuous tone.

"Comes to think of ? you speak well and good of shaking me up for coins, but would you do it if I wasn't one head shorter than you ? When the sergeant stepped in in the canteen, I didn't hear that loud mouth of yours working much. T'is also quite funny how you question why I'm there and then go right on saying 'oh were's that artifact that Drothan's looking for 'cause I might like to get my own grubby little mits on it'. Speaks quite aloud of loyalty doesn't it ?"

Name: Dar'Ko
Age: 26
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Male
Rank: Slave

Appearance: As a slave, Dar'Ko has a very lean body, not being fed very often. Most of what muscle he has is in his legs, being a khajiit, with little in his upper body. His fur is sand-colored and his eyes are a deep green. Both of his ears are pierced with bronze rings (1 in left ear, 2 in the right).
Personality: With a rather devious personality, Dar'Ko is hardly fit to be a slave. He acts lazy only because it's unbecoming of a slave, yet he actually likes being a slave because it's entertaining. When he's not entertained, he doesn't care and when he doesn't care, he lashes out at those around him. Typically though, as long as there is a challenge in something he's entertained and few see his bad side.

Class: Slave (Miner)
Class Description: As a slave miner, Dar'Ko works in the ruins to supply Drothan's army with ore to build weapons and armor as well as to search for Mehrunes Razor. Although, he hardly ever actually does any work.

Kit:
- Slice of bread
- Tanned cloth pants reaching down to his ankles
- A pickaxe
- An empty brown bag (kind of like a coin purse)

Bio: Growing up in Senchal, Elsweyr, Dar'Ko was encouraged by his parents to participate in the art of thievery and deception. However, the khajiit grew tired of this art quickly and could care less about wealth and his own standard of living. Rather, he strove to cure his own boredom which continues to eat away at him to this day like a parasite. He found books to be a temporary relief. He grew addicted to learning what he could as he found that no book was the same as another in the information that it provided. But, Senchal being a port for the black market and books not being a particularly popular commodity, he found that he would be forced to travel away from home to find more books.

Sneaking onto a slave trader's ship, the khajiit headed off for Morrowind. On the voyage there, the stowaway was discovered and forced into slavery. At first, he hated his life. The slave traders forced him to do mundane task, fetching loaves of bread, mopping the deck. But when he was eventually sold to a Telvanni mage, he found that as that mage's slave, he was learning more information than books could provide from first-hand experience. It was at that point that Dar'Ko grew to like being a slave, it offered him opportunities to learn and experience things he could have never imagined. As well, there was always the constant "game" between master and slave. The slave would look for an opportunity to escape and the master would attempt to prevent such an escape.

After winning this game against his Telvanni master, the khajiit walked right into another slave trader camp a bit further south purposely. It was soon after that the traders at this camp sold him to Drothan, who soon put him to work in his mines in an attempt to find Mehrunes Razor.

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IC: A violent, hacking cough escaped Dar'Ko, forcing him to leave his pickaxe stuck in the ground for a moment so he could clutch his aching chest while covering up his cough.

"You all right there friend?" another miner asked, putting one gentle hand on his shoulder.
"It's this accursed branch of the mines! Having us dig up iron is one thing, but coal?!" the khajiit exclaimed, angrily, shrugging the fellow slave's hand off of his shoulder.
"But how else are we going to get our fires?" inquired the other slave
"Rub sticks together, make friction, This one doesn't care! It's better than giving us black lung by forcing us to dig up coal for them!" he raged.

Figuring it best not to bother the angry khajiit, the other slave left it at that and continued to do his job. Realizing he had overreacted to the fellow slave's words, Dar'Ko sought to change the subject. Looking for something to make a remark about, he noticed his pickaxe still lay stuck in the ground.

"How long until that patrol comes to check on us?" inquired the khajiit.
"About two minutes, why?" asked the other slave.
"That's two minutes of rest we've been given." chuckled the cat.

Ever since he'd become a slave, it had been the khajiit's goal to do as little work as possible, to break as many rules as he could get away with. He found the best way to break these rules was to have a information. Slaves were treated as if they were part of the background so Dar'Ko figured that slaves were some of the best spies around. Typically, information from one slave would pass to all the other slaves through word of mouth. With the information gathered by this slave chain, the khajiit had a valuable bargaining chip. Several times he'd gotten out of work by threatening guards that he'd spill out some secret information, or sometimes he'd give them information about someone else in return for a day off. Truly, he was a lazy slave.

So, with a whole two minutes of free time, the khajiit slumped down against the wall and shut his eyes for a moment. He trusted if he fell asleep, the fellow slave would awaken him so as not to get caught by the patrols.

Dralliam was about to say something but after Fara spoke he remained quiet and sat down to wait for the others to come.

One of the Ashlanders spoke, "You should shut it you little Bosmer! you don't know what we ashlanders can do to one such as you!" he said, The second Ashlander said "And leave Red alone! your lucky we don't kill you where you stand!"
the third one said "Come on guys lets get out of here and leave Red to finish this.... what ever he is doing here!" he said
The fourth one said, "I hear the Healers have a bit more coin...."

They left Dralliam to deal with this matter alone.

OCC: did Atomic approve of your character sheet Mait?

"Its the Imperial City I'm after!" said Dras at the top of his voice. "Have you even the mind to fathom what the Dunmeri people have suffered at the hands of those pompous "noble" outlanders!" How dare this little Bosmer speak out her place, greedy [censored]. "Well, if you're in it for the money, than I suppose you stay. If I get ahold of the artifact, I can entice the Great houses to give us support, by troops and weapons. We use them to invade to Imperial City only, it can be done, we could also get aid from the Ashlanders. After the city is taken, we declare Cyrodil as a part of Morrowind. By this time the Empire's troops in Morrowind will be gone. Once this is done, the Great Houses resources will be all but exhausted, they will have to unite to become a more stable House. With the Imperials gone, a unified Vvardefell, and The Drothmeri Army in control of Cyrodil, we'll be rich. And you Fara, shall have immense wealth from the Vaults of the White Gold tower itself."

"I will leave the farmers and smaller settlements untouched, as they have done nothing wrong, its the Legion I'm after. What say you."