OOC: Sorry, I forgot Zant was there. Let's just say he was out of sight for the moment, since it seems he and Karst were a good distance away from the docks.

IC: Jason Durant - The Drunken Priest
Docks, Bravil; 18th Rain's Hand

"Heh, yeah, you could say that," the Khajiit smiled, her distinctly elven features out of place amongst fur and pointed ears. She glanced back to the boat, growing smaller in the distance, "My merry little band up and left me behind. Good thing I lined up my own boat ahead of time. Didn't expect I'd need two, but," she shrugged, "Seems that's the case. Climb in."

Jason nodded, a drunken smile spreading across his wrinkled features, when he noticed the rather large, imposing cat standing beside his new companion. 'Probably her husband,' Jason thought, his smile drooping slightly, 'Damn, she was cute too.' The Breton's gaze flickered between the two, his wine-clogged mind unsure of what to say next. 'Introductions might be a good place to start.'

However, before the priest could begin, another woman approached the Khajiit. “Uh, excuse me, ma’am?” The woman was slight, Jason could tell, even hidden in her cloak as she was. “Are...are you the one looking for adventurers, ma’am?” Her voice was timid, but certainly excited. “I can handle myself alright in a fight, if that’s what you’re looking for, ma’am. And I promise, I won’t be any trouble for you or yours!” The thin woman's face lit up, as if a spark had flared behind her deep green eyes. The spark was gone almost as quickly as it had come, however, and the woman's shyness returned with a single plaintive request, “Please...just, let me come with you.”

'Something's not quite right with this one,' Jason thought, watching as the Khajiit embraced the cloaked girl. She seemed too withdrawn, too unsure to be from the city, and at the same time too frail to be a farmer's daughter. 'What is a girl like her doing here?' However, Jason had always had a soft heart for the downtrodden, and if anyone needed a priest's help it would be this one, Jason was sure. 'Besides, she looks rather cute.'

"Well," the old priest began, not sure which of the three to address first. The white Khajiit seemed to be in charge somehow, but the larger cat was far more imposing. "It seems we're all in the right place then. The name's Jason, by the way, Jason Durant. Used to be Father Durant, but that's another story altogether." The Breton attempted a bow, but when the dock began spinning he abruptly righted himself, his easy smile returning. The wine hadn't quite worn off yet. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing who you lovely ladies might be?"

"I don't know what you've been though, honey, but you're safe now."

Felicity fell silent. She’d imagined a variety of different responses coming from the other woman, but this certainly hadn’t been one of them. The sudden show of affection on the part of the Khajiit woman shocked Felicity, to be perfectly honest, and she simply stood there, arms hanging motionless at her sides, as a pair of furry arms embraced her.

By the time that Felicity felt her mind had truly caught up to what had just happened, the other woman released her, and tugged gently at the sleeve of her cloak. “C’mon. Let’s be off,” she urged. Felicity stared back at the Khajiit for a moment, surprise still marking her expression, before forcibly gathering her wits about her, and nodding her head slightly in response.

“Right, I...thank you, ma’am,” she said, before turning her attention towards the other Human in the group: another adventurer, if one went off the way he talked. He claimed that he used to be ‘Father Durant,’ though what exactly he was supposed to be ‘father’ of, Felicity wasn’t quite sure. The way he said it, however, made her think that the meaning behind it was supposed to be obvious, so rather than ask, she merely nodded her head in mock understanding. With any luck, she’d have all the time in the world to start figuring these things out for herself.

The clumsy fashion in which the old man carried himself, however, and the curious way he kept smiling, were clear enough signs even to her that the man was probably drunk. When he asked for the names of the ‘lovely ladies,’ however, Felicity took a wary step back from the man, even as she began answering his question.

“Felicity,” she stated simply, taking some small measure of relief in the seclusion offered by her cloak. “It’s, um, nice to meet you, Jason,” she added awkwardly, unsure of whether the old man would pick up on her lie in his state, and not particularly concerned about whether he did or not, frankly. Just so long as he didn’t try to pull anything.

Motioning towards the boat, Felicity looked back towards the Khajiit woman who’d greeted her: maybe as long as she was around, the old man wouldn’t try anything too brash. “Anyway, we should get going, shouldn’t we? I mean, if that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

As Sarah practised a Bosmer approached her, Adam if she recalled.

"Uhm.. Sarah, excuse me. I believe I would like to study these strange plants." Sarah stopped and observed the bosmer, He was a healer so diffrent plants and herbs must intrest him to make various potions, he then reached for his weapons

"Or... how about a bit of sparing, sword play? I think we could teach other some things about it?"

Sarah couldn't help but laugh a bit

"I'm game for some sparring, but im not sure you could teach me anything about swordplay." She then leant on her right leg taking pressure of the left as she noiced the legion blade he placed on the grass

"However i shan't judge there is prehaps something you could teach me, Also thats a nice blade" Sarah swung her own sword around and listned as the sword cuth the air and then redied it in a sparring postion

"Lets do it then"

Adam looked at her in excitement as she raised her blade.

"Let's do it then." Was the words he heard. "I could teach you a few things about swordplay nobody has ever learned or seen.. rarely!" He said, he looked at her eyes and raised his blade. He rushed her and swung his blade swiftly to her right side, he then threw his pack and his cloak to the ground on a rock beside them, so he can move better. It felt good to use his sword again instead of using his hands, he felt the hilt and the metal tremble with each swing that landed on her blade and on the ground, tremors of impact shook his fist and his arm. It was like training to be a battlemage or trying to be a crusader for his chapel.

"I bet you already know this; But, don't look at the blade, your opponents feet, or how they move, keep them locked in your eyes and chest, then you can tell where they are gonna go" He said, He thrusted his blade in the air towards Sarah. "But I guess its for the thief or rogue that knows how to kill his opponent when in combat with a sword" He chuckled.

"I could teach you a few things about swordplay nobody has ever learned or seen.. rarely!"

Sarah smiled as the Bosmer lunged at her right side, gracefully moving her arm she blocked the move. Adam threw his pack down and continued with the sparring

"I've learned most things to do with a blade, what i did, they teach you that" Their swords clanged and feet moved as Adam spoke up again

"I bet you already know this; But, don't look at the blade, your opponents feet, or how they move, keep them locked in your eyes and chest, then you can tell where they are gonna go" Adam thrusted upwards and Sarah simply leant her body to the right to avoid it

"But I guess its for the thief or rogue that knows how to kill his opponent when in combat with a sword" Sarah smiled at both of theese comments as she went for a swift and smooth upward slice to Adam's right hand side

"Or the assassin, Also I slightly dissagree about where to look, yes the eye's and upper body should be the main focus but don't ignore your opponents feet." Taking controll of the situation she spotted a weak spot in Adam's movement, pushing back his sword with hers she swiftly circled to his left and gently kicked the back of his leg, not enough to hurt or knock him over but just enough to see what she could have done. Circling back to the front of him she stood ready for more swings from Adam

"We can talk about sword tacticss all day, but as i saw there in your stance and how your feet where moving i found an open spot to circle you and get behind. But thats how i fight, grace, fluidity and swiftness. Speed agrresion and suprise As i can tell you adopt a diffrent style to me but it is effective none the less. All down to your own prefrance" She smiled and steeled herself for more sparring.

Sarah had blocked and avoided his attacks. He seen a swift attack to his right, he deflected that with his sword and parried to the left.

"Or the assassin, Also I slightly dissagree about where to look, yes the eye's and upper body should be the main focus but don't ignore your opponents feet." She said, kicking the back of his leg, He fell down at the unexpected kick to his leg, he dropped to his knee and unsheathed his dagger. He smiled and rolled a few feet away from Sarah and got up again.

"We can talk about sword tacticss all day, but as i saw there in your stance and how your feet where moving i found an open spot to circle you and get behind. But thats how i fight, grace, fluidity and swiftness. Speed agrresion and suprise As i can tell you adopt a diffrent style to me but it is effective none the less. All down to your own prefrance" She said, smiling. Adam smiled back and thrusted his dagger at an opening he seen, rarely did he see any openings in her stance, so he took it. He then used his sword to block his side and jumped back.

He took his iron bracers off too maximize the effectiveness and the flexibility of his wrists and went in fast to in an aggressive fighting stance, he launched a flurry of swipes and gracefully swung his sword and dagger at her then took a defensive stance, swaying and strifing left to right.

“Right, I...thank you, ma’am,” the woman managed a bit after Karst tugged on her sleeve. Karst turned and flashed her a kind smile.

"Oh, you don't have to 'ma'am' me. Just call me Karst," Karst told her gently, stepping into the boat, which was a bit big for three people she now realized. Looking to Zant, she met his eyes, then, with a twitch of ears and tail that'd be all but imperceptible to any non-Khajiit, signaled him to climb in with her, which he did, then offered a hand to the other two. Karst followed suit as she answered Jason's question about the 'lovely ladies' names.

"I'm Karst," she stated simply, cracking a devilish smile, "Though it'd be cruel of me to lead you on, so I'm just gonna dash your hopes now, Father. Not interested."

Karst was so not looking forward to the boat ride over, short as it would be. Being a native of her homeland, she'd only been on a boat four times, including this one, in her whole life, and she'd not gotten a stomach for it yet. Even now, the rock of the boat as it was being boarded made her feel a bit ill. Once everyone was on the boat, the Khajiit sat down, one leg up on the other edge of the boat, her other heel pulled up to her backside and rested the back of her head on the near edge of the craft, looking up at the sky to calm her stomach. At least it wasn't moving up and down like the rest of the world. Zant, knowing his sister didn't do well on boats, took up the oar to get them to where they were going, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Just relax, sis. You'll be fine," he assured her, his gruff voice soothing her slightly. She nodded wearily.

"Yeah, I know. I might throw up half my guts, but sure, I'll be fine!" she joked and sighed. Karst shook her head and looked down a moment, "Apologies if I have to shoot up and spew. I hate boats."

After a few seconds, her eyes popped back open and she looked between her new acquaintances.

"So, tell me about yourselves. You guys know me, obviously," she snorted as if annoyed by that fact, "Who doesn't? But you've gotta have reasons. I like knowin' who I'm with."

Jason Durant - The Drunken Priest
Docks, Bravil; 18th Rain's Hand

“Felicity,” the frail woman replied, drawing herself further into her voluminous cloak, “It’s, um, nice to meet you, Jason." The woman shifted back and forth, her eyes barely meeting the priest's. “Anyway, we should get going, shouldn’t we? I mean, if that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

'Felicity, eh? Such a shy girl,' the priest thought, smiling jovially. Jason studied the boat the young woman had pointed to, which was quickly filling with Khajiit. The ex-priest's smile faltered as a sudden thought struck him. The Niben Bay was choppy at the best of times, and he still had a stomach full of mostly cheap wine. 'This should be fun.'

"I'm Karst," the white Khajiit added, a bright smile flashing across her pointed teeth, "Though it'd be cruel of me to lead you on, so I'm just gonna dash your hopes now, Father. Not interested."

Jason's inebriated smile widened immediately, filling his entire wrinkled face with mirth. "Karst, you wound me," he laughed, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak, "I would never dream of such, I'm far too old for pretty women like yourself." The priest glanced at the other, far more muscular Khajiit, praying he had a decent sense of humor. "Besides, I don't think your, ah, friend here would appreciate it." Jason clasped the larger Khajiit's paw, hauling himself onto the boat with surprising dexterity. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, my boy."



OOC: Didn't want to control Zant, so I'll go ahead and respond to your second bit next time Aula. We can go ahead and leave as soon as Nova is ready to go, I just didn't want to keep referring to him as "the large Khajiit".

Oh, and I promise Jason isn't quite as lecherous as he seems. He'll be better once the wine wears off.

Felicity turned to face Karst with a decidedly puzzled expression on her face. Why was the Khajiit speaking to both her and Jason like they should already know who she was? She recalled a few people in Bravil using the word ‘Champion’ when she’d asked them about this voyage, but it wasn’t as though she had the faintest idea what a ‘Champion’ was supposed to be.

The girl’s hands clenched into tight-fisted balls of rage. Was this what the rest of her life was going to be like? Did she have to keep nodding along, smile plastered on her face, pretending to understand what everybody else took for granted?

But frustration began to subside, as Felicity realized that Karst was asking the both of them why they were along for this journey. She could only imagine what reasons the drunken old man, Jason, would offer: probably something involving equal parts lechery and vice, if his current demeanour was any indication. But what was she supposed to say?

She seriously considered just offering up a simple lie to feed the Khajiit: an adventurer, hungry for excitement and treasure, seemed a believable enough excuse. But even though she’d only known the woman for a matter of minutes, Karst was still the first person who’d shown any concern towards her since her exodus from Vvardenfell. Was she really comfortable with repaying that kindness with a lie? And what if she couldn’t fool her, even if she wanted to? Her knowledge of the outside world seemed so poor, she wasn’t convinced she could keep any kind of ruse going for very long.

“Ma’am...Karst,” Felicity began, her tone hesitant. “I appreciate your concern and all, but I think it’s probably safer for both of us if you don’t know. I don’t want you or anybody else getting in trouble with the Dun-“

She stopped midsentence, breaking out in a cold sweat. Had she really almost been careless enough to say ‘Dunmer’? Why not just hang a sign that said ‘escaped slave’ from her neck and be done with it?

Wishing that there was a nice, dark cargo hold on this ship that she could hide away in, Felicity turned away from the others on the boat, preferring to focus her attention on the body of water ahead of them.

“Let’s just get out of here...”

OOC: Aight kids, let's get this here cheese-cart rolling!

[ooc] Apologies for forgetting the gate. Haven't been feeling well lately, so my mind's a bit scattery. [/ooc]

- Palace of Sheogorath -

This was the day, or so it would seem. The Khajiit he'd located, tracked and led to the Gate was finally ready to make her appearance. It was truly amazing what he could accomplish, but, he figured, what else could be expected from the Son of Sheogorath? He'd been born great and only gotten better with time. Sitting there in the throne of the Realm, he tracked her through her mind.

'She's feeling sick, the poor, cute little thing,' Xelinar thought as he picked through her surface thoughts like one might skim a book, 'And she's.. fantasizing about.. pastries? What and odd litte woman you are, Karstine. Seasick and craving sweets at the same time. Oh, you're going to be loads of fun..'

Eventually, she would arrive, but for now, there was a party gathered at the island waiting for her. Xelinar wanted to see the look on the little feline's face when she saw him waiting for her, plus one of the other groups' acquaintences was there with them. He couldn't see into their minds, though; they hadn't been physically touched by the Madgod like the 'Champion of Cyrodiil' had. His Lord's energies lingered in her brain, and being from him, he could access her like a library, know everything she knew, thought or felt. Ah, what fun he'd had with that so far; every dark secret, every ambition, every intimate detail of her entire existence, all laid bare for him to sift through at his leisure.

How he looked forward to meeting her, face to face, at long last.

Opening his eyes, the Dunmora, as he'd taken to calling his 'species', concentrated intently on a single point in the Realm and then, in a brilliant flash of violet light, appeared there. Before him was a gate, much like the one on the Island in Niben Bay. In fact it was exactly like it. So much like it that it was it, simply the other side of it. Instead of a lock, however, an indent of a hand, a right one, sat dead center of the door. Xelinar reached a dark arm out and placed his hand in the indent, wiggling his clawed fingers as it conformed to the shape within it.

On the other side, the Gate began to sing; a high pitched ringing marked its activation and light jetted from the cracks. The huge lock creaked, then unlatched with a mighty grind and clank. The doors swung open and light poured out. Through the door stepped the child of the New Realm, arrogantly striding through the doorway into Cyrodiil. The sea breeze flooded in from the other world, fluttering his robe about him. Xelinar met the eyes of each of them in turn, and he smiled toothily.

"Well, aren't you a pretty lot?" Xel remarked cheerily, his eyes sparkling, "And what brings you all here today?"

~-----~

"Karst, you wound me," Jason laughed, clutching his chest dramatically, "I would never dream of such, I'm far too old for pretty women like yourself. Besides, I don't think your, ah, friend here would appreciate it."

Karst laughed before she sat down in the boat. The robed man grasped Zan'Tarre's hand and was pulled up in "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, my boy," Jason added. Zant nodded and smiled.

"Zan'Tarre Zeterra. I'm crazy here's brother," he nodded at his sister, who swore at him in Ta'agra with a cheeky smile, "Take care of her for me, Father."

As she settled in and the seasickness began to take a more firm hold of her stomach, she asked what the others were here for. Voices nearby helped take her mind off it.

“Ma’am...Karst,” Felicity began, and Karst looked to her curiously, her full attention on the human girl, “I appreciate your concern and all, but I think it’s probably safer for both of us if you don’t know. I don’t want you or anybody else getting in trouble with the Dun-“

Felicity cut off and turned away quickly. Karst finished her last word mentally; not many words began with 'Dun.' She then wondered why she'd stopped herself. This girl, whoever she was, wherever she was from, Karst could feel the fear and soul-deep pain in her, as well as hear it in her voice. Her ears fell in worry.

“Let’s just get out of here...” Felicity finished, and Karst nodded.

"Yeah, okay. If you don't wanna talk about it, I ain't gonna make ya," she said gently, "But with respect, I doubt whatever you're in trouble with can be worse than an angry Daedroth, and I've killed two of those,"

Karst smiled as best she could with bile in her throat, then looked away quickly as she felt fiercely nauseous. Holding her face in her hand and her tail in her other, she groaned. When it passed, she looked back up to Jason.

"And you?" she inquired, her voice weak.

Mia had been keeping to herself while the others kept getting to know each other, mainly because she had said everything that needed to be said about herself. After her outburst to the Bosmer, she had excused herself to try and calm down a little bit. It was true that the Breton may not know what they had all been through during the crisis, and that maybe they deserved a little more respect than what she was currently giving them... However in her own mind she felt that her own problems were the most important... selfish traits that she never would have had before the events that transpired... she was becoming less herself and more daedric by the day and in all truth she was afraid of losing everything that had separated herself from Demona.

As she was thinking about all of these things a sudden high pitched noise came from behind her, followed by light shining through in places. Turning around Mia noticed that the door was opening, yet no one seemed to have done so from their side... Is someone coming back? she thought to herself but as she began to wonder if it was the guard captain or another adventurer, those thoughts were quickly pushed aside as the door opened with light flowing from the entrance and something walked through.

As the light faded, her eyes gazed upon what stood before them. A dremora? No wait... a dunmer? her thoughts were confused as she looked at the creature. It seemed to be both of her guesses, the skin tha twasn't covered being a jet black yet covered in red viens like a dremora would.. and runes marking the visible areas as well. The appearence of the creature made her blink a couple of times, a puzzled look on the Breton woman's face. However, this did not stop her from standing up and walking over to the mer-daedra curious as to how something like that could come into creation. As she approached the creature looked at each of them that were on the island his eyes locking on each of them, a toothy grin on his face as he did so. As his eyes came in contact with her own, she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. This man... or thing... there’s definitely something not right about him...

Well of course look at him! But that is what makes it all the more fun, he’s something new...

I swear by the Nine if you even try anythi-

What do you take me for?! I may be a Seducer but it isn’t like I try to go for anything

Mia simply covered her face with her palm instead of answering that and turned her attention to the mer-daedra thing that was still standing there and began to speak. "Well, aren't you a pretty lot?" the man remarked cheerily, his eyes sparkling, "And what brings you all here today?"

The Breton didn’t know what to say about his eyes, since he was part daedra and they never had sparkling eyes (even though these eyes werent dremora like at all), but as he asked about why they were all there she took a step forward. "Well we all thought it would be lovely to have a little picnic on this island since we have been waiting for that DAMN door to be opened all day" She said trying not to tell him about Karst, but if this man was here and opened the door from the other side.. It might be the only reason he is truly there. But even so she just wasn’t going to tell him everything... He still couldn't be trusted as he only just appeared.

OCC: Short post. I apologize

ICC: Adam stopped sparring with Sarah as the door opened. In his sense the ground was shaking as it started to open, his ears had been twitching as a voice from a apparition of a man appearing in the doorway. He sheathed his dagger and sword and got down on one knee, starring at the shadow.

"Well, aren't you a pretty lot?" the apparition said in a cheerful sense, joy and a so-called jester is what Adam thought of the man once he became clear. "And what brings you all here today?"

Adam looked at Mia as she rose her voice at the man, he thought it was kind of funny messing with a daedra.

"Well we all thought it would be lovely to have a little picnic on this island since we have been waiting for that DAMN door to be opened all day" He heard her bark, he didn't want to giggle but he did. He looked at her then looked down, then at the man with the glowing light behind him.

"I wouldn't say a 'picnic', it is more like a party over here!" Adam said, sarcastically. He kept his eyes at the mer-daedra and looked into his eyes and felt a sense of fear that striked his spine, he didn't want to let out so he acted like it wasn't there, he decided to mask his feeling with angst and sarcasm.

Alex raised an unsure brow at the woman when she flourished a black rose before him and gave it to him, like a peace offering of sorts. Taking it, Alex grumbled something and folded his arms again, hiding the rose under his shield. It was beautiful, sure; if you liked black. Alex was more of a green man though.

The sudden humming sing of the gate startled both guards noticeably, Alex nearly jumping in place and Richard practically losing his own skin in whirling to face the source of the noise and new light. Since Alex was leaning on the stone pillars of the gate at the time, the musical noise rang in his ears for a time after it ended, and the light blinded him. Richard had an arrow knocked and pulled back, the images of every Dremora he ever fought during the Crisis flashing through his mind as he stared at this... thing.

Alex raised his shield as the light blinded him, and in trying to attain a defensive stance and draw his blade, ended up stumbling backwards to the earth with nearly musical chings of chain, dropping the black rose. Alex didn't panic, but managed to unsheathe his sword and rested the flat on the edge of his shield, pointing upward, and remained there until his eyesight returned.

"Well, aren't you a pretty lot?" A voice spoke, sounding familiar, and yet not. It somehow reminded him of elves... but lower pitched and cheery. "What brings you all here today?"

"Well we all thought it would be lovely to have a little picnic on this island since we have been waiting for that DAMN door to be opened all day" a woman's voice answered, sounding an awful lot like that witch-girl. Richard's voice arose next as the after-light faded from Alex's vision.

"And we are guarding this island, awaiting the return of our scouting party." Richard added to the woman's statement, his arrowhead looking very eager to dig into flesh. "What in Oblivion are you, and what have you done with them?"

Only when Alex opened his eyes and could see again did he understand Richard's words. The figure they addressed was standing before the gate, feet away from Alex. It was jet black with blood red rivers running throughout its body, runes of some unholy power shimmering as he moved. Alex instantly thought of Dremora, and fear flashed across his face. Not them, not again! I escaped it all, dammit! Did they know I was there, tracking me down? Now, he panicked. Dragging his feet under his shield and raising himself with his elbow, he entered a crouched stance behind his shield, sword still resting against it and pointed at the creature.

But when it finally looked to him, there was a mirth in its eyes that made Alex's panic turn to confusion. Those were not Dremora eyes, full of fire and brimstone and hate, but elven eyes, in shape and visage, cheery and bright and almost childish in comparison. What sort of Daedra is this, then, that comes to bring yet more of my life to ruin? There was clear hate -and fear- in his eyes as he locked them with the being, and left the talking to the others as he tried not to kill it on the spot.

Juhanor - Opened Gate

Juhanor had taken to resting again as he waited, this time with no nightmares, thankfully. Just as he was finally getting some nap in, a high-pitched noise assaulted the Khajiiti's sensitive ears. What is going on? Juhanor propped himself up on an arm to see a figure, shrouded in light from the now awake gate, standing before the group of assembled adventurers. As Juhanor's eyes became accustomed to the sudden onset of light, he noticed something quite odd about the figure.

Odd indeed... he looks like a Dunmer, but also as if he were a Dremora... I've only seen something like that once before... but it was far too dead to speak with. Juhanor pondered this as the Elf-Demon took note of the assembled group, locking eyes with each of them in turn. Soon enough, it was Juhanor's turn to peer into the eyes of the newcomer. He has young eyes, thought Juhanor, although, if I were to judge this man by his apparent ancestry, it would be impossible to determine his age. Juhanor returned the Elf-Demon's grin, in an attempt to show some good faith. No sense in making an enemy. Besides, he hasn't attacked us yet.

The Elf-Demon then asked the group as to why they had all shown up at the island; the Breton and one of the others delivered a sarcastic retort to this. We have just met this Elf-Demon, and already they are trying to start a fight? thought Juhanor as he shook his head in mild exasperation. However, should the Elf-Demon decide to attack, the Cathay-raht was secure in his belief that the assembled group could take him down. Before the Elf-Demon could reply, one of the gate guards reacted with even less of a forethought by preparing to fire upon the newcomer. The other followed suit, placing himself in a shielded, but offensive, position. The Cathay-raht returned to lying on the warm rock of the island.

"By Baan Dar, would you all calm down?" Juhanor spoke up from his resting place, "This man clearly isn't a 'I'm going to pillage your village and kill your family' type of Daedra, if he is a demon at all. If he had wanted to kill, he would've probably led a squad of Dremora out here, with the element of surprise to boot."

"Or he has a group of Daedra already, poised at his beck and call to summon in a moment when we are off guard, thinking ourselves safe." Richard spat back at the Khajiit but never took his eyes or his aim off the beastly thing. "He -or it- is a Daedra, and no Daedra can be trusted. They may not kill immediately but they are nothing but wicked, heartless deceivers and destroyers, all of them, in their own special ways."

"He should consider himself lucky I am willing to let him continue standing!" Richard growled. There was obvious hatred for all things Daedric in his voice, but it was a hated born of fear. He was no adventurer, no scholar, no man of learning. He knew what he knew from his parents and his neighbors, and all hated Daedra before the Oblivion Crisis, and only greater hatred and distrust of those heathen immortals resulted from it.

Both Richard and Alex had served during the Crisis, though in different troops, so both held similar fears at the moment. But Richard was the braver of the two, more courageous. Or the more outspoken and temperamental. Either way, Alex was far too willing to let his compatriot do the proclamation of their thoughts, as he was coiled up with fear, ready to spring and strike in defense if that abomination moved so much as an inch in his direction. Like a cornered animal.

OOC: This is rather refreshing. I've always played the learned and knowledgeable folks, but it is so very fun to write the reactions of the simple people of Tamriel, who hate everything Daedric and know little of them.

"By Akatosh" Adam whispered to himself, when he had looked down and up a sudden flash of memory from the Crisis had come back to him. He was afraid, he was sweating, shaking, nervous, but he was prepared for whatever was in their. The elf-daedra had looked cheerful and angry. He didn't know if this was the Madgod the shrine followers spoke of, or if he was a servant to their lordship. Adam looked at Clengo, Richard, Alex, Mia and Sarah and looked back at the Daedra.

Adam wanted to keep quiet and let the others do the talking, when he seen Alex arm himself, Adam decided to do the same, he unsheathed his sword and readied a healing spell. He didn't know what was going to happen or if he was going to be killed. he Listened as the others spoke. He started saying a prayer in the bosmeri language under his breathe, moving his lips and he started to sweat.

With the sun warm on his back, and the smoking-pipe's delicious fumes putting him at ease, Clengo's thoughts lingered lazily on the island around him. He didn't know what was so important about this particular spot. All that lay upon it was a plain, iron gate, but he could see nothing of the other side but the waving grass of the island. Perhaps it was some sort of trick? With magic, perhaps? Clengo recalled a stranger he had seen frequent the Market District, claiming to do all sorts of things, but instead showing people some sort of nonsense that tricked them into giving him their gold. Clengo could never tell what the man showed them, but the man made a great deal about it, and after a bit his victims would ooh and ahh and then fitfully search their pockets and purses for change. Clengo had always expected it to be some sort of trickery, because he had seen Julios Macrin empty his entire purse into that man's, and Julios Macrin never gave money to anybody. Not even to that poor old woman with all those crazy money-draining diseases.

It was then, lost in this interior monologue, that the gate (which he was staring at, but not looking) emitted such a loud chime and such a bright light that Clengo choked on his pipe smoke and fell backwards over the rock, landing on the soft, still-wet-with-dew grass. Landing on his shoulders, he let his body fall over him and sprang up as quickly as he could, peering around the rock at the gate. It was a trick. A man (was it a man?) had suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere, speaking to the others as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. The others responded, and although Clengo could hear anger and fear in their voices, it had obviously not been the first time they had seen something alike to this.

Feeling himself a coward, and seeing no need to fear a single man with so many allies present, Clengo picked up his pipe and emerged from behind the rock, slowly approaching where the others were so that he could better hear.

"Or he has a group of Daedra already, poised at his beck and call to summon in a moment when we are off guard, thinking ourselves safe." said one of the guards angrily "He -or it- is a Daedra, and no Daedra can be trusted. They may not kill immediately but they are nothing but wicked, heartless deceivers and destroyers, all of them, in their own special ways...He should consider himself lucky I am willing to let him continue standing!"

Clengo ceased his approach. Day-dra? He had heard that word before. Several years back, just shortly before Clengo was forced to live in the Imperial City, Clengo remembered that something terrible was happening elsewhere in the world. Their own tribe was suffering from a shortage in game then, which was made all the worse when the traders didn't arrive that year. The clan's elders knew something was up, because they forbade anyone to leave the village, although they often left themselves to consult the elders of other villages. He knew all this because he and his friends would often eavesdrop on the campfires of the elders, who discussed things of such magnitude that most were forbidden from their fires. He remembered them often speaking of Day-dra, and of great, fiery pillars from which they emerged. Clengo remembered wishing then that he could see such things. Though he almost laughed at the fact that all he wished for now was to return home.

The Day-dra was certainly frightening, though Clengo thought he acted as if a friend. He undoubtedly knew how to out-trick the gate. Perhaps he could be of good use to them. But Day-dra were bad, weren't they? What if this one was in fact the trickster?

[ooc] Glad Xelinar's turning out to be fun for y'all, haha. [/ooc]

The moment he'd stepped through the Gate into the land of mortals, Xelinar lived for these encounters recently. Every one a spectacle, all of them amusing. Mortals were incredible fun.

First off, a woman shouted sarcasm angrily at him, and he laughed, glancing back at her as he did so. She was a human race, though he was unsure which, although..

He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, and took another look at her. She smelled of Oblivion, more so than someone who'd simply been in a plane a few times; those people had traces of Daedric magicka on them, but this woman.. she reeked to the core of it. Xelinar blinked and tilted his head, gazing at her for another moment, before another spoke. He mentally put a check beside her as something to investigate later.

'And perhaps something to get drunk later,' he added shortly thereafter, letting his blue-grey eyes wander about her.

The next who spoke attained his eyes and attention for a brief moment as the mer added onto the pretty-yet-confusing maiden's sarcastic remark. He smiled yet again, this time to the Bosmer, until again, more of them spoke.

"And we are guarding this island, awaiting the return of our scouting party," a man in uniform stated as an accusation, "What in Oblivion are you, and what have you done with them?"

The man's choice of words widened Xelinar's smile, and he wondered if the irony was noted by anyone else. He did, in fact, know of a group with his same armor who'd passed through before, though he neither knew nor cared what had become of them. That was the domain of others to care of such things, not his. Next, a different sort of voice spoke up. Khajiiti, he guessed before looking upon it, though he was terrible with 'beast race' gender differentiation by voice. Even when he saw the furry creature, its bulk could have very well masked a female's body as far as he could tell. The feline's words were calm and unshaken, not to mention truthful, and followed by a nonchalant reclining onto a rock. Xelinar decided he liked him. Or her. Or.. it. Immediately, the uniformed one countered him angrily, while his fellow beside him cowered like a frightened animal.

"He -or it- is a Daedra, and no Daedra can be trusted," the man continued after attempting to disprove the Khajiit, "They may not kill immediately but they are nothing but wicked, heartless deceivers and destroyers, all of them, in their own special ways...He should consider himself lucky I am willing to let him continue standing!"

'Wicked, heartless destroyers? Well, that's hurtful,' he thought, 'Though deceivers I'll give him.'

The last part of the more.. vocal uniform's speech amused him immensely, however. Leave it to humans to, in the face of the unknown, threaten and bluster. That seemed to be all they were good for sometimes. In a minor attempt to provoke an attack by this windy man, the immortal laughed in his face, the sound almost musical in its quality, and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

"See, this is why I love humans!" Xelinar proclaimed and threw an arm up in the air, still laughing as he stepped out of the doorway, "If you don't know what it is, you either run from it or you try to kill it. Truly, it's a wonder you get anything done with that attitude, but against all odds and sense, you manage! Persistent things, you lot," he took casual steps in no particular direction, then stopped and put a hand to his chin, "And remarkable booze-makers. Kinda adds to the wonder of things getting done."

Incompetents... Mia thought to herself as the guards took a more hostile response to the hybrid of mer and daedra, but their words about how no daedra can be trusted brought her mind back to the blades and the bounty still on her head. The hatred these men had for daedra was clear, but to treat all daedra not just those from Dagon’s realm with the same hatred was plain stupidity. Her anger at the guards’ rash actions was clear as she moved towards the two and stood between the daedra and the simple minded men. That anger along with Demona being insulted by these people caused the Seducer to take control, the eyes ones more changing their colour to match the being that was in control. Returning to her original for at this present moment would be to reinforce the guards' view on the creature behind her, and would also cause the group to break apart, so Demona simply smiled in an odd way, her emerald eyes focusing on the two who had their weapons drawn.

She was ready to give them a little lesson, however the Mer-Daedra had spoken again, and had taken most of the words out of her mouth... but in his own odd way. Every word he spoke just seemed very unlike most daedra she had heard speak... However Demona had not visited Sherogath's realm and didn't know how the daedra would act... but it was clear that mortals were not the only ones that get affected while inside. He seemed unfazed by the angry guard, and she hoped that that would give Richard the idea that maybe he shouldn't try anything against such a magnificent creation.

"Put your weapons down, or don't... it would be interesting to see what such an interesting speciman can do if attacked...” Demona said her tone much different than Mia's, much smoother and silkier, much in a way a Seducer's voice should sound. "Besides, if you asked nicely I’m sure he might know something about your group... to have come here alone only means that he is powerful enough to end your life before you even moved an inch." Her interest was slightly growing with this being, and she took a few steps forward. "I apologise if they seem a little one-sided on daedra... I believe that you haven't simply come here to scare them with your presence... even though for one from your realm, I would think that is something you do often." The Breton woman said her smile grew a little wider knowing that someone like this would certainly be on to cause a bit of mischief between humans just for fun. But it seemed that most had forgotten that he had opened the gate, meaning he was here for a reason.

As she was thinking about this, her eyes glanced up at the sky briefly a finger on her right hand tapping the side of her face as she did so. "For you to have opened the gate and spoken to us as to why we were here, I would assume that you are the one who had contacted my friend Karst about this quest that she has embarked us on?" As she thought this the two wondered where the furball had gotten to.

The pahmar was almost falling asleep there he sat, gaze trailing between staring at the gate or the scenery; especially the ground. However as the gate spoke?! The leopard-like Khajiit jolted awake though at first he thought the voices was the result of his near-sleeping mind. Ears immediately flattened back against his skull as a figure materialized from the gate entrance, the Khajiit quickly rose to his feet though quelled the growl of suspicion rising in his throat; he didn’t want to accidentally come off as aggressive as this… thing didn’t really smell of aggression.

As the question was posed the others took the liberty to answer the figure, Mia’s first words held more sarcasm than anything, the guard however had taken up a defensive position near panicky it seemed. The Juhanor spoke up telling everyone to calm down, and to put things in perspective; Ren’ partly agreed with the other Khajiit, if this thing was aggressive they’d all be fighting it now. The guard on the other hand didn’t seem to buy into it; not surprising if you had lived during the Crisis.

The half-bred creature didn’t seem to take much offense at neither the sarcasm and nor the aggression the other members threw his way, on the contrary it seemed almost amused. Ren straightened his posture; ears pivoted forward listening to half-daedra, bushy tail dangling idly behind him, who now exclaim why he loved humans Ren felt the other actually had a point; humans were liable to either run from or kill anything they didn’t know what was.

Richard did not lower his bow, but the hatred and fright upon his face did alter into confusion as the Daedra responded. Alex likewise seemed perplexed, but not just by the Daedra's response to Richard. That witch-girl had stood between Alex and the thing, as if defending it.

Further proof, only the worst mages would defend a Daedra. He thought bitterly, rising, but keeping his shield before him and sword at his side. Her voice further worried him; it had been silkier, smoother, almost sultry, which was just plain out of place in this scenario and even for the appearance of the woman. And her eyes, as she looked at him, were a far greener color than he recalled. Alex continued his silence, not trusting his words at the moment.

This just wasn't right. Everyone knew Daedra hated mortals, all mortals, like men hated rats. Or worse. They would never compliment men, even on booze, not even after having berated the race for their behavior. They just wouldn't do such a thing; respect for mortals was alien to them. And yet, here this elvish Dremora stood, applauding the breweries of the world while chastising man for his unwillingness to take a risk and give danger an opportunity.

"If he stabs you in the back, I won't be surprised in the slightest." Alex finally managed, his words cold and controlled, every ounce of emotion he could manage to filter out gone from the statement. There was only one thing he hated more than Daedra and witch-women, and that was goblins. And it was a close race in his books.

"Me neither." Richard added, glad to hear his comrade's voice again. He knew Alex had been in the legion and fought the Daedra more than he. Being the only survivor of a Fort massacre probably makes his fear only worse. "I don't trust you, cretin. Remember that." Richard finally lowered his bow to the ground before him, letting the bowstring ease to rest with the arrow still notched.

Jodhan was sitting by Ren, digging through the majority of his supplies and making sure he had everything that he would need. That was until the gate burst open with a flurry of ironic timing. Karstine wasn't even here yet and the gate had opened, then a being of some kind exited. At first it appeared to be a Dremora but there were some oddities about it that made him..different. Firstly a dremora working for Sheogorath was almost unheard of. They generally served Mehrunes Dagon as far as he knew. He stood up, packing his gear up as one of the women of the group made several smart remarks, followed by the Guards becoming hostile towards the being. Paranoia was understandably exhibited from the humans, the Khajiit that was sleeping told them all to calm down.

All very interesting so Jodhan spoke up "If he wanted you dead while you were off guard, he had plenty of opportunity well before hand and would of had much more had he come through with more. So stop being so paranoid Imperials. First thing you see that pops out of a portal you need to kill." he sighed. Shaking his head at their behavior, though eventually they seemed to lower their weapons which in some ways redeemed them. Though he was more casual with such a creature, having dealt with a fair few around the Telvanni. It seemed the Breton woman, whose voice now changed oddly enough, started talking to it. A hand rested on Ren subconsciously, cracking a small grin. "So, what brings a.. being of Sheogorath out here?" he asked.

[OOC: I apologize for my recent posts lack of description, quality, and frequency. Minds a bit crowded lately.]

Completely lost in nuzzling the scaly lizard-man, Alyssa almost failed to notice the entrance of the man of the hour, something which, surely, she would never have forgiven herself for as long as she would live. He smelled of spontaneity and good sense, looked like a strong specimen of a mer, and emanated a certain pull that the young breton girl simply found irresistible. Giving in, Alyssa squealed with joy again, releasing her Argonian prey and doing a cartwheel over to the new arrival. Hopping up and down a few times, she latched her arms around his torso, squeezing powerfully and almost shouting a greeting into his ears, conjured up from a single breath and even less of a brainwave, but all the while her wild, darting eyes scanning him critically and coldly.

"My name is Alyssa Stormfield, renowned travelling mage and adventurer! Your name is now Slappy, and you shall be my slappy forever!" She squeezed out, her voice gaining a steel edge towards the end. As if to illustrate the fact that this person would, in-fact, become her slappy, she smacked him lightly across the face for good measure. She dropped her hug, stepping back and bowing cordially in front of the man, her hood flipping itself up over her flowing hair. "I am a necromancer and inventor, and I am a member of this intrepid group of adventurers!" She smiled, looking up at him with big, watery doe eyes.

Jason Durant - The Drunken Priest
Niben Bay; 18th Rain's Hand

"Zan'Tarre Zeterra. I'm crazy here's brother," the Khajiit replied, indicating Karst with a nod of his massive skull, "Take care of her for me, Father."

'Brother?' Jason blinked once, looking back and forth between the two Khajiit for a moment before his smile returned. "Of course," he nodded absentmindedly. 'Her brother, really now...'

Before Jason could strike up any real conversation with the Khajiit, the thin girl- Felicity- was mumbling from within her cloak once more, “Ma’am...Karst, I appreciate your concern and all, but I think it’s probably safer for both of us if you don’t know. I don’t want you or anybody else getting in trouble with the Dun-“ The woman broke off suddenly, turning her hooded face away from the white Khajiit. “Let’s just get out of here,” she finished weakly.

'Definitely a past to this one,' Jason thought soberly- surprising, given his current condition- his already wrinkled face creasing with worry. 'Mara willing it won't follow her where we're going. Wherever that is.' Jason was about to console the woman- with no alterior motives whatsoever- when Karst beat him to it. He raised a bushy eyebrow at her mention of killing Daedra, but otherwise kept quiet; obviously she thought they knew her, so she must have done something of importance. She didn't seem entirely heroic at the moment, leaning greenly on one paw. With an obvious effort she managed to direct her question at Jason.

"Well," the Breton began, stroking his scraggly chin with one bony hand, "Like I said, I'm a preacher. Former priest of Arkay, but that's a long story, too long for just one boat ride." Jason smiled affably, quickly changing the subject, "Grew up in High Rock- Wayrest, to be precise- and found my way down to Cyrodiil after the robes called to me. I had a... disagreement with the priesthood and I've been wandering the country ever since. Folk pay decent money for a priest, 'specially a healer." The old man shrugged, still smiling, "Speaking of, a little wave-belly is easy enough to fix, little missy."

Jason held out a wrinkled hand towards the Khajiit, effortlessly weaving the threads of magicka into a green orb of healing. Without waiting for the cat to reply, the priest placed his glowing palm on Karst's stomach, the tendrils of magic worming their way past her fur and melting into her body. 'Easier sober, but I've healed worse hungover.'

- Gate Island, Xelinar Ilsutran -

"I don't trust you, cretin. Remember that," the uniform spoke up. Xelinar waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," he remarked uninterestedly, "You don't like me, I'm a demon, blah blah, you want me to believe you'll kill me if I do something incredibly mean. Which I won't," Xelinar turned and narrowed his eyes at the man, his first serious moment that these people had seen, "And neither will you, because you haven't got the balls and we both know it, so hush up."

Of course, Xelinar had no way of knowing the man wouldn't attack him, but he had a hunch. Even if he was wrong, what was the worst that could happen?

"If he wanted you dead while you were off guard, he had plenty of opportunity well before hand and would of had much more had he come through with more. So stop being so paranoid, Imperials. First thing you see that pops out of a portal you need to kill," another Khajiit spoke up, "So, what brings a.. being of Sheogorath out here?"

Xelinar turned to the feline with a sharp smile and raised a hand, index finger pointed skyward. This one was of similar build, yet bigger still, than the other one that'd addressed him. So far, it seemed that the Khajiit here were the only ones with level heads and open minds. He answered the question happily.

"An excellent question!" he announced, turning briefly to meet the eyes of the Daedra-scented woman, who was now defending him in front of the two armed humans, and wink, "Which begs an obvious answer, I should think; if you know I am a being of the Lord of Madness, then surely you know I'm here because it is his will. I serve Father gladly, and no, I don't mean 'Father' metaphorically."

Xelinar smiled charmingly and laughed, "I'll leave you all to ponder at that. More fun that way. In any case, I'm here for a cat. A little one, all cute and furry and white. If you are to be her group, I do wonder why she isn't here. You.. didn't leave without her, did you?"

Before he could continue his little speech, something moved rather oddly from beside him. Something.. cartwheeling and death-flavored. Something most curious. Something.. that apparently liked to give out hugs. Xelinar was only momentarily caught off guard by this, taking it in stride rather quickly. He peered down upon the small female and smiled.

"My name is Alyssa Stormfield, renowned traveling mage and adventurer! Your name is now Slappy, and you shall be my slappy forever!" the curiosity stated in a single breath, then lightly struck him across the face. She then released him, stepped back and bowed elegantly. "I am a necromancer and inventor, and I am a member of this intrepid group of adventurers!"

Xelinar beamed. He picked her up under her armpits and twirled her around in place, hugging her to his briast all the while, laughing.

"Oh, look at you! You're spectacular, aren't you, Alyssa? These armed men cower before me, and you just walk up and smack me like you owned me. Beautiful!" he cried gleefully, setting her back on the ground where he grabbed her from, "And you know what? You're the only one who's told me their name, so you're the only who gets to know mine."

Bending down to meet her ear, he whispered to the little mage. "Xelinar Ilsutran,"

~-----~

- Karstine M. Zeterra, Island-bound boat -

"Like I said, I'm a preacher. Former priest of Arkay, but that's a long story, too long for just one boat ride," the human holy man explained, and Karst nodded, "Grew up in High Rock- Wayrest, to be precise- and found my way down to Cyrodiil after the robes called to me. I had a... disagreement with the priesthood and I've been wandering the country ever since. Folk pay decent money for a priest, 'specially a healer." The old man shrugged, still smiling, "Speaking of, a little wave-belly is easy enough to fix, little missy."

Karst was about to ask what he meant by 'wave-belly' just as he reached a hand out towards her stomach, hand aglow with magicka. She felt the cooling sensation of restorative magick going through her and relaxed as her stomach's protests faded. Standing afterward, she perched herself on the edge of the boat to recover, tail curled around her feet, tapping the wood of the boat with the end.

It wasn't long before they got up to the island then, as she took up an oar alongside her present family to help row once the sickness left her. With a small thud, the craft hit ground. She jumped out into shallow water, a ramp of sorts leading up and left from her current position before her. Zan'Tarre climbed out as well, assisting the other two while his sister surveyed the landing.

"So, this is it, eh, sis?" the Blade asked, facing the boat still, "The island of your dreams?"

"Yep. Sure is," Karst affirmed, "Reckon they're all waiting up there for me. Wonder if it'll actually open though."

"What, you don't know?" Zant sounded surprised. He turned when done helping Felicity and Jason out of the boat and sat on the bow, "Thought you said it'd open when you had people."

"It said it would," Karst admitted, pivoting on her boot-heel and crossing her arms over her leather-clad chest, "Didn't say it wasn't lying. Could just be some.. cosmic joke on me for all I know."

The small Khajiit sauntered up to her brother and clapped him on the arm, looking up his full five-foot-eleven height to meet his eyes. "Guess I'll just have to go find out!"

Zant laughed. "That's my girl. Go get 'em, sis!"

She disappeared up and around the hill, stopping short just as she got near the top. She looked at the scene before her, blinked and shook her head.

"Like I said. Cosmic joke," Karst muttered quietly to herself, "A Dremora and a girl with a coffin on her back."