The Altmer greets the strange Argonian with a smile and says "Watch this". He then pulls a nearby mug of water towards him and drops the gem into it. After muttering a few words, the water steams and the gem fizzes. The Argonian stares at the mug in horror as the Altmer drinks the fizzy liquid.

"It's my own invention. Let's just say that you can 'taste' gems with it. That was a ruby and it was quite delicious. I'm not commercialising it because I fear people will consume soul gems to make themselves more powerful. Why so nervous? I've got plenty more gems so don't think I'm wasting money."

The Argonian's face turns from horror to a smile as he sees the High Elf withdraw another gem from his pocket.

"My name's Rorgan by the way. I'm the only mage working for the Blades."

Rorgan sips the fluid and shivers from it's strength. He then watches the commotion in the inn with knowing eyes. Rorgan knows all of their occupations, their names and what they are here to do. He has been trained to know things as a Blade. A pang of humour courses through his mind as he realises the things that occur within a simple tavern. Murders, contracts, friendships and even the feeding of vampires.

What people didn't know was that Rorgan was a shape-shifter. He turned himself into a mole to dig underground from a nearby cave. Nobody knew this except for his father who had accidently turned himself into a rock, causing him to have no brain and lose his memories and thoughts. Rorgan knew the dangers of this practise and was experienced enough to use it wisely. He just hoped that nobody discovered this or else he may lose his job.

Rorgan pondered the possibilities of there being other shape-shifters out there in Tamriel. Oh how he longed to meet one...

Feel free to kill Cirali, I quit Oblivion anyway.

//Disregard this post//

Not to be rude, but what is the point of this? I mean, is this supposed to be a roleplay or something? ........A bunch of people walking into an inn....wow

// Uh, yeah, thats the point....

Pride-Claws pulls out a note from his pocket and lays it on the table...he reads it, and ponders the last words written on the thrashed piece of paper. He raises his head and looks around at all interesting characters in the bar...And then looks back at the Altmer his Argonian friend was sitting by...

OOC: Alright I'll kill him.


Neekum-Kai stabs Cirali in the head. Cirali dies. :toughninja:

the orc comes down the steps and sees Rorgan. the orc walks over and puts his hand on Rorgan's shoulder he then turns 3 fingers into bear claws and whispers
" i have been looking for you a long time"

A Dark Elf, with a green ponytail, wearing Green Silk Pants and a Green Brocade Doublet enters the Inn, looks around and walks up to the barman,

"excuse me, I'm looking for a good friend of mine, an Imperial by the name of AndyTbone" he says to the barman "He would have been carrying a few pairs of Wrist Irons and was probably looking for some people. I'm sure he came by this establishment, was he here?

The barkeep told the Dunmer he was indeed here but left a short while ago, and that he was talking about quiting his job. At that the Dunmer thanked the barkeep for this information and proceeded to sit at an empty table and read a book he was carrying.

A fat Nord walks in, [censored] on the floor, then walks out again.

As he ran from fort Blueblood the invisibilty spell ran out, then he swore and cast another.

"Why can`t I teleport" He said quietly to himself, then he realised he needed his Staff drawn.

He toke out his staff and muttered some Ayleid words pointed his staff toward the sky and Serpine dissolved into nothingness as green air went aound him.


Yes he is dead I accidently cast a spell on myself in Oblivion, it was my instant death spell (Witch I created on self accidently and stupid me saved just after I cast the spell X_X) so I decided that illing him in a more peaceful way by choice would be alot more fitting considering he saved Tamriel ^_^ (He died whilst i was casting the spell I was supposed to hit Mehrunes Dagon after I Wabbajacked him :flamethrower: but unfortuneatley I saved whilst I casted it and it was an onself spell so he kinda died :banghead: so an accident happened and now he serves the Nine.)


Just as the commotion started dying down a Skeleton walked in, but it wasnt a summon it was a skeleton wearing Red Silk Robes.

"So can i get a drink around here?" Said the skeleton.

OOC: Hes my new char (Obviously not a skeleton as theres no mods for PS3) but if I get the PC version this is going to be my dude

A Nord warrior in heavy armour walks in, then looks round for a few seconds. He scratches the back of his neck and shifts his legs uncomfortably. Realising he doesn't know anyone, he awkwardly looks around whilst slowly inching his way back to the door.

A few hours after the shabby, foul smelling Argonian left the Inn, he came back in. He appeared to be sober for a change. Unusually stable on his feet he strawls to the bar. He leans over the counter, upsetting the other guests near him because of his smell, suddenly grabs a bottle of beer and starts running around in the Inn shouting: "You can't catch me, you can't catch me!"
Then, in a clumsy manner, he trips over an Altmer's foot and crashes head first into the inn's inventory. The entire cupboard crashed down, barely missing the Argonian's head. Broken glass and pewter flies into all corners of then Inn. The Argonian, still lying on the floor, shakes his head briefly and mutters some vague apology.

The Death has been sit in his chair during all this time. Silent, reflexive. It wasn't the type of guy that rushed about everything. It KNOWS that it had all the time of the universe. And that, with time (or more exactly, with an excess of it), everybody would have it, too.

Then, finally, it stood up and said a few words that everybody in the inn would remember forever, knowing this was an encounter that they would share with their kids, and a story that would pass though generations:

"INTERESTING. NOW I HAVE TO GO. GOODBYE, AND THANKS FOR THE CURRY".



(If you recall, my last post was like):

The zombie from earlier wandered back in, this time wearing Black Robes and nothing else. The zombie still smelt under the clothes however, much to the disgust of some guests. The Zombie lumbered as gracefully as it could towards the bar and rested it's elbow on the table, although with difficulty due to it's stiffening muscles.

"I want MEAT." It groaned, as the bartender blinked at it. "Please." It added.

A rather yellow Altmer strolls into the Inn, takes a look around then says 'Splendid! A Nord! Fascinating barbarians...'
He then proceeds to poke the Nord with a long finger, muttering something about the number 5...

Link looked over at the Altmer that had just walked in. It looked like a banana. Mmmmmm.... Banana...

A pilgrim in simple robes walked in.
"May the nine bless you all. Barten-"
He froze, staring at the zombie.

OOC: No. That dialogue was not lame at all.

The zombie gets up and hits the pilgrim over the head. Then turns around, releases a noxious gas from what it calls it's backside, then sits back down.

Are you controlling my character? bliviongate:

THEN, the Zombie APOLOGISES, explaining that it's muscles are a bit stiff after being dead for so long and it can't help hitting people now and again. But it notices it's fart and gives a hearty my bad, as everybody is put off their dinner.

heh heh lol....

The Green haired Dunmer closed his book, stood up and walked to the stairs, and to his room to wait for AndyTbone to return to the Inn, at which point the barman will tell him his friend is here.

With a sudden urge for a banana, the Altmer called Bolandial, flamboyantly strolled up the the bartender, about to ask for a banana when he suddenly realized that Cyrodil was a jungle (:P)

Suddenly, the Zombie felt the urge to let one loose. The Imperial guard shouted "Don't do it! Please! Nooooooo!" But it was too late. The Zombie farted a huge bellow, and the room filled to the brim with green, disgusting gas. People choked, slamming their heads onto the wall, trying to kill themselves so they wouldn't have to smell the trump any more...

"WINDOW!" Somebody shouted, and the window was flung open, so the gas escaped outside and destroyed the entirety of Blackwood.

"Lucky escape there!" Said the Guard, as everyone took deep breaths, relishing the taste of cool, clear oxygen.

The Zombie looked embarrassed.

"Sorry... my bad."

But luckily Skulduggery dosen`t breathe so... yea.

"What are you people panicking about? its just a sound, oh it wasn`t just a sound was it?" He asked.
With that he walked over to the barman and said "Hey brakeep whos throat do I have to slash to get beer around here?" he said laughing at his own sarcasm.