Aiden was astounded by the care this woman showed him. Most people would have just laughed at him, but she didn't. She took the glass out of his hand, and even healed it with her own spell. Man, she's got skills... he thought.

"Thank you so much." Aiden said with much gratitude in his voice, "No one's ever been that nice to me before." He was glad he decided to walk up to her now. He made a new friend, and one who had the same views as he himself had. This war wasn't so bad after all.

"You hungry at all? I'm a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself. Come on, I'll make you something." He said, motioning her to follow him to the fire.

Kerris Vinchis - Elsweyr
Kerris tramped along with the rest of his company, when his eyes fixed on the village ahead, an archer watching from the Crenelations in the wall scanned the Savannah that they where moving from and darted off, presumably to tell their Commander of the armed force that was approaching the city.
Kerris walked quickly to the guide, and asked:

"Is this village occupied by any chance?"

Kain (Scar) in his store in Heimthor.

Kain panted heavily, sweating, as the rusted hammer, tightly gripped in his clammy grasp, beat down repetitively onto the soft metal. The blade was beginning to take shape, the curvature and design looked good, and Kain was so far pleased with his new weapon. He stifled a grin, as a salty droplet of sweat dripped down over his cheekbone and onto his lip. Disgustingly, he licked his lip, tasting the sweat and savouring the moisture on his dry, cracked lips. He had worked hard all day, his toned body coated in perspiration, dirty from the ash of the roaring flame below, however gleaming, awash with the dirty liquid layered on his skin. His arm muscle flexed as he reached for a nearby cloth, the strength emulating from his powerful arms as he pulled it closer to his face, dabbing the soft material on his rugged face catching ever so slightly on the small amount of stubble latched onto his sturdy jaw, in an attempt to remove the moisture.

He looked up from his furnace, deciding to take a break. He had had few visitors today, some locals had been in to simply browse his wares at the start of the day, however he had not needed to serve anyone, and had spent most of the day working on a new selection of weapons. The store he had owned since his travelling party of Nords had returned to Skyrim, wasn’t in any way large or grand. It was a small and simple room, the front filled with wares, from lightweight knives to a set of iron covered leather, and behind a small wooden counter, stood a furnace at which Kain produced his goods. The floor was raised from that of the desert, built on small stilts to save building on the sandy surface, with a small set of stairs leading to a wooden door. The white sandstone walls had become dusted with a light brown colour; the sand over time had been buffeted by the wind, and in turn had stained the walls.

The interior was poorly lit, a small lamp hung from the ceiling, doing its best to reach the corners of the room, though falling somewhat short in places. A small candle perched atop the counter illuminating the array of small knives and shortswords that were placed neatly on display, and the burning ambers of the furnace did well to reveal the back of the room, glowing out from the furnace, and heating the room past even the intense climate of the desert itself.

The sun was setting now, dropping in through a small crack in the wooden door. Kain estimated it to be around dusk, and began to tidy his tools at the back of the room, extinguishing, as best he could, the flames of the forge.

Raven, Valenwood

After thanking her, Aiden offered to make Raven something to eat. She realized then that she was actually quite hungry, and she smiled. "I would love something to eat," she said as he began leading her closer to the fire.

It was actually a relief to have someone else cook for her for a change. Usually she looked after herself--a hard life had taught her to fend for herself, and she didn't trust easily. So far, since she joined the war, she had kept herself aloof for the most part. She was more comfortable by herself, and in a group setting she always felt out of place. But the longer she was with this band of fighters, the more comfortable she was starting to feel. Of course, she would not get too comfortable--that was one of her biggest rules, after all. But for now, she decided relaxing a little wouldn't hurt.

She looked over at the Dunmer, Valen, who had earlier been one of the worst abusers of their prisoner. Now that the group had broken up a little and the Khajiit was led away from them, Valen had gone off to sit by himself with another bottle of beer. He saw her watching him and smiled, raising his brows in a flirtatious manner. Still rather disgusted with his earlier behavior, she sneered and turned back toward the fire. Some men just never grow up!

Aiden, Valenwood

"I would love something to eat." Raven replied. Aiden was really excited, as he hadn't had the opportunity to cook in a while. Ever since he was a boy, he always loved to mix ingredients together and make something that tasted good. His mother had been an amazing cook, from what he remembered. In the mornings, she would go out to the gardens and pick fresh vegetables, and in the afternoon, his father would bring in some kind of animal for the meat. One of his favorite memories as a child was playing in the woods, and being called in near sunset. His mother had prepared fresh venison with carrots and corn. Just thinking about it made his stomach growl.

"What would you like? Anything specific, or just anything?" Aiden asked, trying not to seem too eager. Most of his drunkenness had worn off, and he was in his right mind. Maybe that healing spell had something to do with it... he thought, but quickly thought of other things as he awaited Raven's response.

OOC: Managed to squeeze in a post between school and guitar lessons. Enjoy!

Jax, Elsweyr


Jax trudged along the rocky path, his ivory plate armor rattling in protest after being hammered on in the last battle. When the Redguard saw the village, a wave of relief swept through his body. He smiled, the first time since Zelinin. He set his pack down on a large rock as the others walked by, clearly relieved -- even if they weren't showing it like he was. Jax reached into his pack and pulled out a small doeskin canteen. He licked his lips and let the water flow down his throat. After several long, satisfying gulps, he pulled the bottle from his mouth and took the chance to look around.

At first glance, he didn't see any other Redguards. He was the only one of his kind here. There had actually been several Redguards in the company before Zelinin, but apparently, they hadn't been quite as proficient as they should have. He was the odd man out here, save the Orc, and one of very few in plate metal. The rest were mostly Khajiit, save for a few others, and most of the company was either wearing lighter armor or cloth (and some of them were just bare). The Elsweyrians weren't too particular about who they fought alongside. After all, who could blame them? They were protecting their homeland.

The only other time Jax had taken to anolyze his forces was after Zelenin, and the situation hadn't improved since. They were out of a commander, and morale was frighteningly low. Even if most of the company had been glad to reach Heimthor, their morale still needed a boost.They still needed a leader, even though most of them were under the illusion that they would be able to recover their commander.

That's where Jax had to step in.

He reached for the locket swinging from his neck, opening it and looking at his parents. His Imperial mother was sitting in a chair, with his father behind her, his hands over her shoulders. Ever since they died, Jax knew that the look in their eyes had changed from loving to...something else. Something like disappointment. Their death had changed it. He hoped to change it back.

He had to change it back.

He closed his locket back up and put his doeskin canteen back in his pack. He picked up his pack and rejoined the small group, hoping Heimthor had a good smith.

Kraven & Daenalin, Valenwood.

Kraven saw the khajiit's defendant walk up to him and Daenalin. He raised his hand and spoke with enthusiasm, but his face seemed a bit off from the reasoning with the commander offense. He seemed like a friendly character. This one had blue eyes and came with the same long hair that most wild bosmer had, instead it was blond. He greeted the two men. Kraven nodded a bit to show his signs of respect, but Daenalin was too busy paying attention to the small couple over in the other side of the camp. The bosmer chuckled wildly and elbowed Kraven repeatedly.

"The man has no skill with females! He is nervous enough to break a glass of mead. Ha!" Daenalin said, mostly to Kraven and the newcomer. "Ah, Mildew is your name, right?"

Kraven smiled widely. It was rather amusing to watch someone put so much effort into their conversation only to sabatoge it unintentionally. He looked over at Meldor and saw that he carried a bow and a few arrows. Most bosmer were handy with the arts of archery, he expected him to be very good at what he did.

"My stomach calls for nutrition. You must be mad with hunger as well." Kraven complained, placing his hand on his stomach. He looked at Meldor and smiled. "I am to go on a hunting trip. Hunt with us. For our food will remain unknown to the rest." Kraven said. It came off as a bit greedy, but he believed everyone should fend for themselves when it comes to survival. "Daenalin can search for fish in the river and insects in the trees. And whatever he can locate."

"How well do you know this part of the jungle?" He asked the other Bosmer, Meldor.

Meldor, Valenwood

"Ah, Mildew is your name, right?"

Meldor laughed, not only after that statement, but the first one as well about the man not knowing how to act. He had seen them chatting while he just entered camp, though the breaking of his mug was a shocker, even to him.

"It's Meldor actually, and yeah, I know these parts pretty well. I grew up around here." Kraven mentioned the food would remain for themselves, which, as always, was the way Meldor had saw it. If you couldn't earn your food, then you didn't have a right to eat others and so he gladly accepted Kraven's proposal, "What type of game we looking for?"

OOC: Wow.

Qanar - Heimthor

Qanar was tired and frustrated. His fur was sticky, dusty and slightly wet from sweat. Chopping down small trees that were impeding the way didn't help either. But he knew that if Elsweyr was to prevail, they would have to get their Commander from those Renrij. For his company was greatly important to the Elsweyrians cause - or so he thought. In reality, they were just another group of Khajiiti soldiers fighting against Bosmer soldiers.

Qanar growled as he pushed a bush out of his way, unfortunately, the part of the bush he'd pushed at was covered in sticky sap. That growl turned into a frustrated roar as he wiped the sap off onto his armour. His paws ran over lots of small cracks in the Bonemold armour. That Axe blow to his stomach must of caused more damage than it first seemed. He didn't want to repair it himself - though, it was too hot and humid to do any bashing of hammers. That's why a smile spread across his face when he saw the small buildings and torches in a clearing of a jungle.
"Heimthor" he said.

The young Khajiit was walking so fast he might as well have been jogging. They could rent a room for the night and finally sleep in a real bed! This was the first happiness Qanar had felt in a while and he almost yelped in delight. Maybe those Renrij Bosmer stopped here too! We could get information and find them! And kill their punyy heads, ahahaha! Qanar thought manically, the heat and lack of water hadn't done him well.
That's probably why he snapped at the Imperial when he asked if the village was inhabited.
"Of course it is! Don't you see people?! What do they feed you Cyrodiils?!" Qanar said meanly. He really meant no harm, but his frustration got the better of him.

Knowing he'd most likely be scolded for his rude comments, he walked away from the group. Saying to those behind him "I'm finding a smith, my armour needs repairing. I suggest you do the same." The way he said 'you' made him seem like he was in a higher position than the rest "If there's a tavern here, I'll meet you there."

Not waiting for a response, he took a swig from his flask and jogged toward looked like the Town Centre. Once there, he scampered between shops, looking in windows hoping for a smith. He got many rude looks and salutes from home owners and suspicious ones from shop owners.
He found a place with a dusty window and what looked like knives on display. It was a smith. Thrusting the door open, Qanar purposefully walked into the shop, but almost stopped in his tracks when he saw the Nord owner. Nord?... Well, he'll be of no help at all.

"Nord." Qanar addressed the man "You know how to fix Gah-Julan?"
Qanar unbuckled and took off his armour of Morrowind origin and held it out toward the man.

Raven, Valenwood

"Whatever you make will be fine," she answered with a smile, before looking back over her shoulder at that Varon guy again. She had sensed his eyes on her, and saw that she wasn't imagining it. But when he saw her look at him again, he turned away and got up, wandering out into the woods.

Good riddance, she thought with a smirk. Maybe we'll be lucky and he won't come back... Immediately she scolded herself for thinking like that. He may not have been very bright and respectful, but he was a decent enough mage and archer, and they needed all the help they could get.

She turned back to Aiden, who was busy getting the food ready. "So, Aiden, where are you from?"

OOC: Man, between playing Zelda, AoE Online and ball hockey I fear I will fall behind at this pace. Thankfully the Elsweyrians are not so hasty in their posting!




Arnand and Jo'Khart, Outside Heimthor, Elsweyr

Arnand was brought out of his thoughts as the lone Argonian approached him and inquired about Jo'Khart. He couldn't find any words at first as the lizard had surprised him and his rude comment about Jo'Khart had offended him somewhat as well. His right hand was resting on the pommel of his sabre and he felt a sudden urge to draw the blade and fashion himself a new pack out of the lizard-man who had insulted his friend. He mentally pushed away the gauntlets intrusions to kill the Argonian, and when he felt satisfied he had defeated the sentient thing yet again, he looked up at the Argonian with a raised eyebrow.

"Ware your words Argonian, lest you find yourself a puddle of lizard courtesy of my friend there." he said, shaking his head and walking past him. He knew that conflict at this point wouldn't help but he grew angry whenever someone taunted his Dagi friend, especially knowing that Jo'Khart was a powerful war marge and could likely take down an Ogre more efficiently than a seven foot warrior could.

Nee-Wom, on the outskirts of Heimthor village, Elsweyr

"Ware your words Argonian, lest you find yourself a puddle of lizard courtesy of my friend there."- said the Breton aggresively, as he looked down on Nee with an unfriendly face.

Wow, what did I do?

"Woah there", replied Nee-Wom with a look on his face that was a mix of confusion and resentment, surprised with such a response, "I didn't mean to offend, by any meansss... no need for harsssh wordss..."

Nee reconsidered a different approach. He would never have guessed that the Breton would take his words as an offense. He smiled forcibly, trying to amend things. Nee was not keen on making any enemies.

"I am ssorry if what I ssaid has wronged you sssir", he said, with a careful tone, "My question wass inocent, not maliciouss ... I asked out of curiosity, for I have never seen another like him before, and did not notice him before. Again, I am not trying to be rude."

He turned to the small Khajiit and bowed briefly, while at the same time apologizing:

"I am sorry", he stated, "My intention wass not at all to make fun of you... Sssometimes I am somewhat thoughtless and speak without thinking, heh.... pardon me"

Talking to a housecat now... This is indeed a strange land

He turned to the human again, leaning on his spear.

"I would like not to make enemiess of the people I am fighting besside", he said, apologetic, " Maybe we could sstart over.... My name is Nee-Wom, warrior from Argonia. I saw you fight before, you put on a good challenge to those Bosmersss... I respect that. Might I assk your name, and that of your friend?" He smiled again, his friendly nature afraid of the outcome the conversation would take. He definitely did not need any more enemies other than the Elves.

Nee was still unsure if the small cat-like creature was capable of speech, so he chose to talk to the Breton instead, hoping to make up for what he said earlier.

[OOC] Ok, this "sss" spelling thing may become tiresome after a while...

Kraven Desselius & Daenalin, Valenwood.


"Excellent," Kraven said, preparing his gear. "Whatever we may find. I have heard of wild Tapir in these parts. We may be blessed if we find a single one."

Daenalin grabbed hold of his hunting dagger and sheathed it beside his loincloth. That was all he needed for the trip. The fish he caught were usually big and they swam in deeper waters. If he could ambush them from a branch from above, he would strike unseen. And the larvae Kraven gathered would be useful bait. Maybe he would be lucky enough to find some capybara in the river.
He looked around to make sure no one was staring in his direction. Most were otherwise too drunk and sober to notice.

"Meldor," Daenalin said firmly, to memorize the name. "Which tribe do you hail from?"

Kraven motioned with his head for the two bosmer to follow behind. They can continue the conversation on the way there. Night was beginning to rise in the jungles. A nocturnal hunt, Kraven thought to himself, in my regular form. He walked toward the dark jungles, leaving the sound of laughter and clanking of glass behind. He sought to be surrounded by nature and wilderness as much as he could. He had no communion with these lot, not yet in any manner. While his mind was filled with the thoughts of Khajiits attacking or the commander escaping, Kraven did his best to concentrate on the hunt that was about to begin. He had plenty of time to make conversation with Meldor, but after they had killed their food.

"Alright, I love it when people aren't picky about their food!" Aiden exclaimed to Raven. He noticed her eyeing the Dunmer who was making a fool of himself, but thought nothing of it. He started to grab supplies out of his bag near his tent when Raven asked him a question:

"So, Aiden, where are you from?" she asked casually.

"Born and raised in Valenwood, away from anyone and anything." he replied, "My father built a cabin in the woods when him and my mom got married. Besides what I've seen in the war, it's the only place I really know."

He turned back to the campfire and started to place the posts near it. After they were put up, he place the venison in the middle of them, and it slowly started to rotate. While the venison cooked, he started to chop up carrots on a steel plate. Before long, the meal was ready.

"Here you go. I hope you like it, but feel free to tell me if you don't" Aiden said, handing a plate of venison, carrots, and a bottle of mead to Raven. "Also, I'll ask you the same. Where are you from?"

Varon Athren, Valenwood

Varon could tell that some of the others didn’t like him much. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he could never get everyone to like him. He would please some, only to upset the others. That’s how it had always been, everywhere he went, for as long as he could remember.

A walk in the woods seemed like a good idea. He could get out and be alone for awhile, clear his mind and organize his thoughts—which was especially hard to do when slightly drunk….

He looked up at the twin moons, in awe of the way they looked through the trees. But at the same time, those moons only helped to remind him of his sweet Elvasa, and the night he had asked her to marry him.

They had known each other their whole lives, having grown up right next door to each other in the city of Cheydinhal. Their parents had known each other back in Morrowind, and they had emigrated to Cyrodiil to find a better life than the one they’d had among their own Dunmer brethren. They were outcasts, so they went into exhile.

Cheydinhal was a beautiful town with a decent Dunmer population—even the Count and his family were Dunmer. They found themselves accepted there and made a life there, raising Elvasa and Varon together like brother and sister, as they were both an only child and were the same age.

Elvasa was gentle as a lamb and sweeter than a flower. She had a way of making everyone feel special, and no one more so than Varon. They played together, sometimes by themselves, and sometimes with the other children. As they grew into adolescence, they developed an attraction toward one another then went well beyond friendship. She was the first woman he had ever been with, and he loved her more than he thought it was even possible to love.

It was a night much like this one, when they walked out into the woods together near the city where they had grown up together. The moons were full, the sky was clear, and the stars could be seen for miles. Elvasa wore a pretty white dress, and she looked so innocent and perfect that night.

It was on that night he had proposed, and with tears in her eyes, she had thrown her arms around his neck and said yes. He felt such relief, and they had made love together under the stars. Only three months later, she was gone—taken by fever while carrying their child, having only found out a week before she fell ill.

It was the greatest tragedy of his life, and Varon thought he could never go on without her. But it had been nearly six years, and he was still alive. But sometimes he wished that he wasn’t. Maybe that’s why he really joined up when the war began—perhaps he was just hoping to die in battle. And though he’d had many close calls, he always came out alive.

The Nine must really hate me, he thought. To them, I am but a fool.

He stopped walking and let out a sigh, and then turned back toward the camp. He could barely see the light of the campfire through the trees. Perhaps I shouldn’t go too far away from the camp, he thought, as he started walking back. After all, it had been a very long day, and he was tired.

Grob the Goblin Smasher, Heimthor

Grob glanced around the town, it wasn't that battle ready.
I could besiege this town by myself thought Grob.

As Grob walking through the town in grabbed a passing Khajiit by the arm.

"Wheres the tavern?" asked Grob.

"Down the street first on your right" said the Khajiit trying to get out of the orcs grasp.

Grob nodded and let go of the Khajiit, he made his way over to the tavern. He entered and looked around, there were only Khajiit inside. He shrugged and walked over to the counter.

"Give me some ale" demanded Grob.

"I don't serve ale" said the bar tender.

Grob wasn't happy, other than eating and bashing elves he needed his ale.

"Sod you. You [censored] cat" roared Grob storming out of the tavern.

Meldor, Valenwood

As Kraven and Daenalin were preparing, Meldor made quick work to make sure his bow was tightly strung and his arrows remained straight and sharp. He noticed a slight problem with the knots on the bottom of the bow, but managed to fix it up in quick fashion, as to not slow down the group. And then, Daenalin asked him what tribe is he from.

What tribe am I from? he thought to himself, trying to remember if he was apart of one. The only problem was, everything was blank. He had not remembered what his father was, if any, and he doesn't even know what tribes exist. In true Meldor fashion however, he calmly told him the truth, as lies would only drag him deeper into his grave.

"I cant say I'm apart of one. . . I grew up in Torval for a bit before my father banished me to live in the wilds and wasn't properly taught about the tribes." He said that last part with both anxiety and disgrace, clearly visible in his voice but his face managed to hold true to his normal self.

Meldor quickened his paced so not to be left behind and made one last adjustment to his quiver, to make it was easily accessible when they find their prey, and to make sure the arrows he has left will not fall out. The night was growing darker though, so he would have to rely on his knowledge of the woods and his skills with the bow if they were to not come back emptied handed.

Juhanor - Heimthor

Juhanor loped along behind the Senches. A Pahmar followed close behind them as well; the smaller cat had quite an easy time following the far larger tigers along. The group soon arrived at a small town, Heimthor. Finally; I'm not that cut out for the jungle. Juhanor took a moment to unfurl his package of sweetrolls. Mmmhmmm, those sure look tasty. thought Juhanor, with a smile upon his face. He noticed the rest of the group dispersing into town, so he quickly wrapped up his foodstuffs and returned them to his pack.

Wandering through the town, Juhanor noticed one of the other Khajiiti, a Cathay, entering the local blacksmith. Might as well see what he is up to; don't have anything better to do. Juhanor followed the comparatively smaller 'jiit inside. The Cathay was handing over his armor to the smith. "Greetings, brother," said Juhanor cheerfully, "looking forward to killing some tree-hugging scum?"

Raven, Valenwood

Aiden handed her the plate of food, and Raven started eating right away, while he said, “I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me if you don’t. Also, I’ll ask you the same, where are you from?”

After swallowing a bite of the carrots and the venison, Raven cleared her throat, and said, “No, it’s very good. Well seasoned and cooked all the way through—it’s just how I like it.” She took a moment to seat herself on a log near the fire, making it easier to hold her plate and the bottle of mead. Then she answered his question. “I was born in Elden Root. My parents died when I was young and I hardly remember them.” She shrugged, then said, “That’s about it. Not much to tell, I guess.”

She took another bite, chewed it, and then attempted to change the subject, saying, “This is really very good. What did you season it with?”

Her past was not something she liked to talk about much. Thinking of her childhood only brought back too many bad memories, and she rarely ever spoke about it. She would just have preferred to forget…

“Stupid wood elf!” Casta Valerius cried, smacking the black-haired Bosmer child so hard that the girl fell back against the wall. “I curse the day your parents left you here with me, Marawen! How I curse that day! Get out of my sight! You’re lucky I don’t tie a stone to your ankles and throw you into the river!”

The teary-eyed girl got up and ran from the house, not stopping until she was deep in the forest. When she came to the meadow where she used to picnic with her family every Fredas afternoon, she stopped and knelt down by the huge tree that grew in the middle of the meadow. They used to sit under that tree for hours, eating and laughing—a true family. But all of that was taken away from her in the blink of an eye, and she was left alone in the world, with only the abusive Casta Valerius to look after her.

As she wept under that old tree, the child reached down to feel her mother’s necklace, which she always wore close to her heart. It was the only link she had left to the mother and father she had lost…

When Raven came back to the present, she found herself reaching up to her chest, feeling the necklace that she still wore close to her heart. Then she remembered where she was and what was happening, and she saw Aiden standing there, asking, “Raven? Did you hear me? You asked me about the seasoning…”

OOC: Good post, Syl.

IC: "What seasoning did I use?" Aiden repeated, gawking. No one had ever cared about what seasonings he used, let alone KNEW he seasoned it. Most people just ate what they bought or what they killed themselves.

"Oh, well to start off, I used the usual. Some pepper, and a little bit of a secret family recipe. Then I added some Cumin, along with some steak rub I found earlier in the supply kit. Usually people don't add them together, but I find that it gives it an extraordinary yet unusual taste. And for the carrots, I..." Aiden stopped, noticing that Raven was staring off into the distance. Or maybe she was daydreaming. He didn't know, and he didn't want to be rude, so he politely said, "Raven, did you hear me? You asked about the seasonings..."

He didn't want to seem rude, but he wanted to keep the conversation going. This was the first time he'd ever met someone that shared the same interests as him, and he wanted to capitalize on it.

OOC: I'm gone for a few hours, and we got a whole 'nother page? It's funny how the Valenwooders are so much more active...

Jax, Heimthor

Jax walked through the town, wondering where to go first. He needed to repair his armor, but he needed to get a room before the Elsweyrians took them. He decided to make his way to the inn before anything else, so he asked a Khajiit for directions, and started off to the inn.

He walked through the door and laid his pack on the ground, wary of all the Khajiit keeping their eyes on him. Jax took out his money and laid it all on the counter in front of the innkeeper. "I'll take one room. Take however much that would cost out of that," he said, nodding at the coins. He noticed the glimmer in the innkeeper's eyes, so he carefully watched as his hands fingered the Septims.

Noticing Jax watching him, the Imperial said, "Hey, it's just twenty Septims. And I'm only taking twenty." He separated the coins out, and grabbed his share. "First room on your left upstairs. Enjoy your stay," he said as he slid a key across the counter top.

Jax counted his change carefully, noticing that the Imperial had kept his word. The Redguard grabbed his belongings and strode upstairs and into his room. It was definitely nothing too extravagant: a table with a small candle on it, a wooden chest, and a small bed along the side of the wall. However, it was still a bed, so it was still enough. Jax laid his pack down on the bed. He emptied his bag, took off his armor, and replaced it with a brown doublet and white linen pants. He took his sword and sheath from his belt and put it in his bag, along with his armor and shield. He put all of his belongings, aside from what he was wearing and what was in the bag, into the wooden chest. Then, grabbing his bag, he left his room, locked the door, and made his way to the smithy.

He walked in as the smith was working with his furnace, and noticed two Khajiit standing at the counter. He eyed them carefully. "Gentlemen," he said. Or gentlecats? he thought to himself. Laying his pack down on the ground, he sat down in a chair by the wall, not once taking his eyes off the cats, and willing the smith to hurry.

Grob the Goblin Smasher, Heimthor
Grob was angry he decided to walk around a bit, his mind drifted off.
***
Grob was sitting on the stool drinking his ale, he could smell Khajiit all over.
Damn cats I swear they lick their own butts in here thought Grob.

"Grob the Goblin Smasher?"

Grob turned around to see a Khajiit.

"Yeah who's asking?" asked Grob.

"Let's say we forget who I am and just get down to business" said the Khajiit.

"What business would that be" snorted Grob.

"I want to hire you to help with the war" said the Khajiit.

"I see" said Grob.
***
Grob made his way to the local blacksmith, the blacksmith was a nord. There were also two Khajiits and a Redguard in there.

"I need you to repair my axe" said Grob showing the smith his axe.

Kraven & Daenalin, Valenwood.

Daenalin stopped for a two seconds when Meldor said he wasn't from any particular tribe. He took a moment to compose himself and then continued. "Oh? So you must be domesticated then. Not like the spoiled kin-folk from Cyrodiil I hope."

Kraven held his spear at the center, balancing it equally as he snuck through the jungles of Valenwood. Not too far from the camp site, but distant enough to hunt peacefully. Usually, when he was in a hunting trip, the hunters would go separate ways to find greater food. Kraven looked over at Daenalin and stopped his tracks.

"I will hunt past those trees," Kraven pointed at the clustered branches, "Meldor, you can join Daenalin if you want. Combined, you too can capture more fish."

He said as he set out quickly into the deep jungles. His bare foot racing through a carpet of leaves and mud. He was quick and agile, his hair flowing behind his head in a savage manner. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings as he captured everything in his peripheral vision. Every scent, sound and taste now increased when he put his mind to it. He believed himself the ultimate hunter. And he would prove that tonight as he had always done.

Daenalin scratched the back of his head. "Come this way. I know where the fish gather in multitude." Daenalin rushed quickly, his foot running behind another. His agility could be matched by Meldor, in fact, he expected his fellow bosmer to catch up with him in the same speed. As he ran, he did not look back to see if Meldor had caught up. He simply spoke. All he could hear were the nimble feet running through the greenery and also the river rushing nearby. He decided to speak to Maldor just to pass the time.


"Banished? How did you manage that?"

Jo'Khart and Arnand, Heimthor, Elsweyr Group

They entered the city as the Argonian tried to apologize for his earlier words, first to Arnand and then to his small friend who still rode comfortably on his Senche mount. Arnand turned for a second to regard the lizard-man who seemed sincere in his apology as he leaned on his weapon and introduced himself.

Up on the Senche, Jo'Khart looked down after a moment, aware that someone was talking to him. "Hmm, what's that?" he asked absently. Instead of waiting for an answer, he turned about and saw they had reached a village finally. With a final confused look at the Argonian who may or may not have been talking to him while he was in thought, he jumped from the back of the large Khajiit and landed lightly on all fours right next to his Breton friend. "Shall we?" he asked in perfect Cyrodiilic language, his mind still on his spellcraft as he motioned for his friend to follow.

Arnand nodded and turned back to Nee-Wom with a grimace. "It's alright." he offered, ignoring the compliment to his fighting skills. He offered none in return though he did manage a friendly nod. "Arnand." he said, pointing at his chest, then looking at his departing Khajiit friend. "That's Jo'Khart and as you can see he can indeed speak our tongue, along with a dozen others."

He paused momentarily then shrugged and turned back to walk into the town, where he hoped to replenish his arrows, as the battle had left him with just four in his quiver. "We are going to find an armory or blacksmith, join if you'd like." he said as he continued walking into the city. He wasn't usually this distant, but his loyalty to Jo'Khart was deeper than any other feelings he had as the Dagi was his one true friend.

He didn't wait to see if Nee-Wom followed but walked into the city and within a short time, he found the smithy as well and walked towards it. Jo'Khart groaned his feline groan but turned to follow his friend, jumping onto his strong shoulders as he pushed the door open. Inside he found a bunch of others waiting for what the Breton assumed was to get their equipment fixed and to buy more supplies. He walked up to the counter, nodding at his comrades as he turned to the Nordic smith who was already occupied but Arnand wanted to get his quicker business done first before any armoring began.

Countig his gold he pulled out a few pieces, while saying, "Just twenty of your simplest iron-tipped arrows please." He turned to a Khajiit with glass gauntlets. "Gotta have something to pierce those Bosmers armor right?" he asked, with a wink, his mood growing better as he found some reprieve from the heat of the march.

Wow, i thought i'd just squeeze in a post between morning and school, and I've been reading again for an hour

Weldarion, Bosmer camp

He carefully led the Khajiit away from the rest. No one but the Dunmer tha was cutting of his hair seemed to mind.

“Aww, come on!” shouted Varon, holding out his arms as one of the Bosmer started pulling the prisoner away. “We were just having a little fun! He’s just a stupid housecat!”

A big hand was put on his shoulder. Weldarion took his chance, when the dunmer was distracted, to pull the khajiit away. He took him to the outer parts of the camp towards two of the Bosmer on guard he knew he could trust not to misbehave. He also passed Raven and Aiden on the way. Seems they’re having fun together. he thought with a smile.

“I’m leaving this one with you. They’ve been mistreating him in the camp so I took him away.” He said to the two guards.

“sure, tie him too that three so he can’t run away.” They responded. He took the ropes and took care of it. Standing up again, he took a look at the camp where they were still celebrating.

“so, have you seen anything strange?” he asked. Wanting something to do.

“Not really. Only two Bosmer and an Imperial walking out of the camp together.” The guard pointed in the direction of the trees behind Raven and Aiden. “I don’t know what they’re up to.”

“ok, I’ll see what they’re doing there.” He ran in the direction the man pointed. Passing Raven and Aiden he slowed down a little.

“I hope it tastes good.” He said, hoping he sounded friendly. He ran further to disappear in the shadows of the trees. He silently unsheathed one of his shortdswords and took it in his right hand. He could hear their voices, but just barely.

“"I will hunt past those trees, Meldor, you can join Daenalin if you want. Combined, you too can capture more fish." He continued walking towards them, only to see the two bosmer dash of towards the water and the imperial stepping forward with is spear in his hand.

So just some hunting. I’m glad I already ate. I guess they won’t be sharing it since they tried their best not to be seen when sneaking out. I better leave them.

Taking one last look at the man he sheathed his shortsword and turned back. He stepped back towards the camp not really caring if they could hear him or not. Leaves made a soft crushing sound beneath his feet, the twigs snapped when he step on them. He liked the sound of walking careless in a forest.

Maybe I should join Aiden and Raven again.