OOC: Woo!
--
Balarithgaer took the sword off Hjolifur greatfully, and put it back in his sheath. He went back to his pack to clean up some mess. There were a couple of smashed bottles, one of which was poison and had gone onto a leg of mutton. He threw it out into the wilderness for some unfortunate rat. Next, he found some empty vials and managed to scraqe some Vampire ashes into them, they were useful in Alchemy.
Balarithgaer smelt a smell, a delicious smell, and saw Goliath making porridge on a fire, down the small incline. He sighed, it smelled delicious, but he wasn't going to go down there straight away, he wanted to clean up a bit first. He saw his bedroll was still intact down the hill and was about to retrieve it when he remembered Aitor. Who was standing but a metre away and asked "If you don't mind me asking, that wound on your back, what was it from?"

OOC: the green pact only applies to plants grown in valenwood. In fact, they import a lot of plant products (from timber to food) for use and it doesn't break the pact since they were grown elsewhere. I'm pretty dure whatever grain was boiled into porridge isn't from Valenwood, Goliath probably couldn't pay such high import tarrifs.

My bad *edits post*

Gabriel Issac

The snow became colder and harsh during the night whilst during day it was soft and crunched beneath your feet. I rubbed my hands together to keep warm and my breathe snaked its way towards the sky like a dragons smoke. It was then that Goliath alone passed through the bushes and shubs back to camp. He sat by the fire, throwing in grains, wheat and oats into a boiling pot of water. Goliath then added what seemed to be spices into the pot. A sweet scented aroma filled my nostrils. It smelt good.

The giant Nord passed the poridge around, "Eat up, we have a long hike ahead of us."
I grabbed the warm bowl and slowly ate the poridge, savouring the taste, keeping me warm. My eyes wandered about the camp from the blood painted snow to the grave of Rolf. Though I only knew him a while, my heart was saddended to see him gone, faded from life.
I didn't mind werewolves, but I had a deep, comtempt hatred for vampires. It finally came to me that two werewolves were present in our little band of hunters, so I know now whom not to mess with. But the newcomer, the vampire...Even if he was of of them 'good' vamps, I still didn't trust him. I know his kind, I told myself. Bloodthirsty, untrusting freaks.

I needed a distraction from the vampire present in out group. Well, my broken bow needed fixing, but I could obtain a better bow had I any money.
"Anyone here a repairman? Or woman, I suppose?" I said aloud, holding the bow high above my head.

Nathaniel Leinhart - 'Goed Rust'

While the others rested Nathaniel had spent the evening picking through the battlefield for spoils but had come up completely empty. Staying hidden Nathaniel watched as the gargantuan Nord made his way out to the road then buried the corpse of his fallen ally before returning to the camp. Nathaniel followed from a distance watching the camp remembering the hatred he had met when he tried to help the occupants. Weighing the odds Nathaniel knew he was in a foreign land with no leads to get him to the leader of the were-creatures and their vampire allies. Going against his better judgment he entered the clearing just on the edge of the camp.

Standing his ground Nathaniel spoke up. "Greetings once more adventurers I hope you all have rested well. I hate to return here but since you killed my quarry I no longer have any idea how to find any more of the foul creatures we fought last eve. I am hunting the same creatures that you are although for personal reasons I shan't reveal. We are both after the same objective so it would be in our common interest to work together. If not I should be able to find my own way though will will be more difficult."

"What say you?"

'Goed Rust'

"As I've said before, I don't really care much about the blood svcking cursed stalker in the night part." Gille remarked in between finishing off the last bit of meat he had brought from the King's hall, warmed by the campfire (he had decided to preserve magick and not waste it on such mundane tasks as he usually would've). "They only way I ever got to meet your kin was through business and it was just that - business."

Ah, Gille, what a delightful, moral-free, jaded individual you are. And strikingly handsome, to boot. Smiling to himself at the bit of self-mockery, he wrapped himself tighter in his robe, burying his hands in his sleeves now that the food was finished. The Breton had decided to abstain from the porridge, not because it looked disguisting or he didn't trust Goliath's cooking - it certainly smelled nice - but because it left more for the others. He didn't do it out of kindness, though, more of because the others didn't seem to have brought that much food with them on person and the last thing he needed was malnutrition making his allies less effective. After all, the spellcaster still felt a bit weary after the night's ordeal and any steps that could be taken to ensure the party as a whole functioned better were a good thing in his book, since a more effective party meant they as individuals would need to do a bit less. That slight bit less could mean an awful lot in this case.

Do I really want to trust all of them, though? This topic kept wandering back into his mind. Between two werewolves and a bunch of people he barely knew - except maybe for Gabriel, about whom he knew a slight bit more than nothing - there wasn't yet that much of a warrior bond between all of them. Hell, Gille could barely keep all their names slipping off into the void of forgetfulness. I'm not certain they all know my name, too. 'Course now that we've fought together a bit, we know that much more about each other, at least for the purposes of this... adventure. After all the only things that matter now are one, can this person fight, and two, will he not crumble under stress when the going gets rough. We're not here to make friends or whatever, we're here to earn a pay. And perhaps get some homicidal lunacy out of our systems in some cases.

"So Goliath," Deciding to focus on more urgent matters Gille called to the Nord. "Have you ever been to Kraag yourself, or at least heard something more about it? From what I understand it's only a minor town, no greater military importance and thus feeble fortifications? Is there any lord, thegn or whatever you call them in Skyrim who makes his home nearby or in the town? I figure someone like that would have some larger fortifications put up and have some retainers who'd be able to help out in a fight - or at least that's how it works back in High Rock, I presume rules stay the same here. If Kraag is threatened by those things then that'd help us considerably, especially since chances are a noble would keep a decent blacksmith nearby too, and not just someone who fixes farming tools for a living."

Goliath finished his pipe, tapping out the spent tobacco. He took a second to admire the object, a long stem and a deep bowl all made of dark ebony wood with small carvings. Then a voice came too him, it was the Breton, Gille. He inquired to Goliath what Kraag was like, and if he'd ever been there. Goliath nodded his head and spoke, "Indeed, I've made many trips to Kraag, mostly to sell furs and buy good supplies. A large rock wall surrounds the town, four towers at each point. Outside are two guard posts, usually about five men in either one." Goliath stopped for a moment to blow the metal shavings off of his sword and then wipe it clean, sheathing it on his back.

"Within the town itself is the usual, a fine inn called the Bears' Belly, a blacksmith who sells some of the finest silver weapons in these parts, as well as a market in the center of the town. A bridge extends to a hill where the village shaman lives in a great cabin. He is what you may call the "count" of the town. A wise and kind old man he is." Goliath rested his back against the rocks, his fur cloak cushioning it ever so lightly. He breathed and scratched his beard, "I wonder what state the town is in now? They were hit hard by the beasts, but the guards of Kraag are not to be trifled with, nor the hearty men who live in the town. Perhaps when we get there the Shaman, Bohdran, will have some answers." Suddenly, another voice came to Goliath's ears, it was the vampire who had appeared last night. He offered his services and accompaniment with the group.

Goliath had studied the vampire, this one seemed quite civil as far as vampires go. Certainly more so than the ones they had fought before. Goliath gave it some thought, finally coming to a conclusion. At this point, they needed all the help they could get, even if he was a blood-svcking master of deception. "Nathaniel was it? You may join our company." Goliath stood up to address the rest of his party, "This man is a vampire, but he is not the enemy. He is the enemy to his own kind. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. So, he will be traveling with us." Now Goliath trudged over to Nathaniel, "I hold a small amount of trust for you, but trust nevertheless. Fight with me, and do no harm to my companions, and we shall see this curse be put to an end." Now Goliath looked down at Nathaniel, right into his eyes, "But if your hunger gets the best of you, know that I will kill you myself, if one of the others don't."

Goliath walked away back into the camp and ate another small portion of porridge. It seemed now that there were three monsters in this small band of would-be heroes. But they were the only thing that could stop this menace to Skyrim. Once again Goliath addressed the group, "We must all put aside our differences, whether or not we are of different race of belief, something plagues these lands. It is not Hircine who conducts the beasts, for the feral vampires we slew last night were not under his control, nor were the were-beasts. In Kraag, we may find our answer to this. So let us be off, pack your things. Gabriel, you may have your repairs once we enter the town."

Goliath then began to walk down the snow covered road, it seemed a heavy snow was coming and the group needed to reach Kraag, lest they want to relive the events of the previous night.

OOC: Make one last post, all of you. Then I'll time-skip us to Kraag. Sound good?

OOC: sure. Glad that your ok Jonas.

IC: I packed up what little suplies I had and trotted up to Goliath in an attempt to spur my fellow travelers to do the same. I looked over to the vampire though and expressed my personal concerns, "Nathaniel, the sun is rising. Will you be okay traveling with us, or do you need to wait in a cave or something for a little bit?

I then turned to Goliath. "I understand you know the villagers in Kraag, but will they be wary of our party entering there walls so soon after an attack? Even the simplest of us knows that were-beasts aren't in that form most of the time, and I've seen an entire town of Nords fighting against an intruder before. It's not pretty."

Aitor relaxed against a tree. Although he did simply want to leave this place, quickly, but he needed a rest, even if a couple of seconds long. His scars were still bleeding mildly, but knowing that he is no healer he ignored them. Aitor picked up what he needed, and stood up with his hand still against the chest.

Not long after, he saw Goliath walk down the road. Without saying anything or looking at any of the others, he followed slowly. We have just began the travels and already got ourselves into so much fighting. This is going to be a very interesting adventure. He smiled:

By the Gods, I hope this will be worth it.

OOC: Woo we're back! Glad you're better Jonas!

Aitor ignored Balarithgaer's question, and walked away. Must not be comfortable about it thought Balarithgaer. He then picked up his satchel and trudged down to the campfire in the snow and ash. He picked a bowl off the dead pack mule and took a ladle full of the now lukewarm porridge. Delicious! Thought Balarithgaer, slurpinf away at the porridge from his cupped hand (he didn't have a spoon on him, and forgot to get one off the mule) Although, could use a little Brown Sugar He searched in his bag for some of the Kvatch originated Sugar, alas to no avail. In fact his bag was quite empty on ingredients, so he would have to go to a General store in Kraag - if one remained.
As he finished his porridge, the vampire requested his entry to the group, and Goliath accepted. This angered Balarithgaer We don't need another damned beast in this troop! We've already got enough! Too damn uncomfortable with werewolves, and now a vampire. We're hunting these bastards, not working with them!. He shot up, and walked to the road leading to Kraag quickly, rubbing snow in his hand to clean it, and waited impatiently for the group to leave. However, a small part of him hoped that they would leave in about another half hour, however, then maybe the infernal vampire would burn up on the jorney to Kraag.

OOC: Werewolf&Vampire said he's going to be without internet for about a month in the Life in Tamriel OOC thread, so a bit of character controlling might be needed.

Gabriel Issac

The vampire had asked if he were able to join us and Goliath approved. A pittance of anger and hate that settled within the bottom of my heart rose again. Well, I hope that damned vamp burns adn dies on his way to Kraag for all I care, I thought to myself. Then I overheard Hjofur ( sorry, I forgot how to spell thy name) stating if Nords attacking intuderes. I sure hope Goliath will talk our way out of getting maimed. Impatinetly, I flicked my sword with my middle finger, "Anyone ready yet?"

Like everyone else, I got up and gathered my supplies. Using my spear as a walking stick, I trudged my way through the snow to stand next to the rest of the group on the road. I though to myself, I can only hope we aren't too late to help Kraag.

OOC: Sorryfor the post being so short

Nathaniel Leinheart - Road To Kraag

The Nord known as Goliath accepted Nathaniel's invitation which put his mind at ease. Though it was apparent that some of Goliath's mates weren't to happy at having a vampire in their midst. Nathaniel truly didn't care if the simple minded adventurers hated him as he had an obligation to fulfill. Deciding to stay close to Goliath, Nathaniel began to walk over to the road but stopped to take one last look at the battlefield.

In the distance a glimmer caught his eye. Curious Nathaniel trudged over to the spot. Lying in an ashpile was an exquisite gold ring which Nathaniel promptly collected. Upon closer inspection it was clear the ring had a magical property but identifying the exact enchantment was beyond Nathaniel's knowledge. Depositing the ring into his gem bag Nathaniel made a metal note to check with a mage in Kraag about the ring's power.

Satisfied with his find Nathaniel made his way over to Goliath. Looking up as the sun began to emerge in the sky, "What a beautiful sunrise, I hope the others don't take to long as we should getting going soon."

Nathaniel then brought his hand to his chest and whispered to himself. "Morene...Morene..wait for me just a while longer my love."

Leaving Goed Rust

Gille didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, carefully inspecting the area around where he had what little sleep he'd caught that night to make sure he left nothing behind. Satisfied that all of his mundane possessions were still with him, the spellcaster wrapped himself tighter in his robe and taking a place nearby the others. "I'll take the rear if you don't mind, then," was the only comment that he had, addressed to Goliath - since he seemed to fit well into the role of the leader, even if he was a gigantic furry killer. Strange times breeded strange alliances, it seemed.

OOC: Crap post is crap, but it moves stuff along.

OOC: Sorry for the delay guys, been staying with my grandparents to help with his recover and the internets' been off-and-on. Here we go, to Kraag!'


The group of warriors, of many race and talent and background, all made their way the the town of Kraag. The journey was cold, with few breaks and no attacks from the hellspawn they were sent to destroy. The blizzard was coming in fast, but the great wooden walls of Kraag stood before them. A Guard saw them through the snow and hailed them, Goliath shouted that they were the ones sent by the King. The guard judged them, then saw that they did indeed look the part. The Great Gates of Wolfheim, named for a great chieftan, creaked and groaned as they opened. The party moved through the great gates as they slammed behind them. All over the small city, covered in snow, there were vendors with thatch roofs quickly constructed to keep snow off of the wears. Goliath then addressed the others.


"Alright, there are many vendors to choose from that sell food, drink, and clothing. The blacksmith is the large building over there." Goliath pointed towards a building with an open store, displaying weapons and armor, as well as the forge were the large black-bearded smith hammered out some piece of armor. "The Tavern is the tall building, three stories, across from the smithy. We'll meet in the tavern at nightfall, I'll be meeting with the shaman. Fear not, Hircine's spawn wouldn't dare attack at this hour, especially with them on guard." Goliath pointed to a guard standing in the snow, he had a great halberd in his right hand, a shield in the left and a great Nordic silver broadsword at his hip. He was clad in thick Nordic steel armor, a bearskin cloak hung about his shoulders with the bears' head atop his own head. At least thirty of these warriors, Skaal Royal Guards from Solstheim, were atop the walls and in the city itself.

"Well, gather your supplies, and here's some extra gold for the each of you. Remember, Tavern by nightfall." After giving out one hundred drakes to each of them, money he'd saved for the journey, he began walking towards the road that led to the Shaman. But before he did that, he stopped at the smithy. "Hey, what in the Nine-Hells is a troll doing in the smithy!" Goliath shouted, the smith turned around in anger but his face soon broke into a broad smile under his thick beard, "You're one to talk yeh great lumberin' oaf! Goliath, how the hell are ya?!" The two nords clapped hands and embraced, then stood face to face, almost the same height.

"Well, I'm on a hunt, Rindir."

"A hunt eh? Bears, wolves, snow-cats, the usual?" Then a silent glumness came over his face, he realized what Goliath meant, "You're the one the King sent. Where're the others?" Goliath looked back at the group who had begun to take off to the market and other places. "Those are the ones, good warriors, each one of them. Now then, I'd like to discuss some business." Rindir walked behind his counter, "Well then, for an old friend, and my old apprentice, I'll show you something I found recently."

The older Nord disappeared behind his counter and brought out an object covered in a sack-cloth rag, it was VERY long, standing about as tall as Goliath. "I found it, in a cave within the mountains, bit dangerous but I couldn't pass it up. It was in the arms of a frozen man, clad in great armor that I've never seen" He unwrapped the object, it was a great Halberd.

The axe-head was a bearded Nordic style with a longer edge and much broader, it was ornately inlaid with silver. The spear tip was pure silver inlaid with gold Norse designs and spirals. The pole itself was also Cold-Iron, the dark metal was wrapped with blue cloth and brown leather strips. The pole, from top to bottom was inlaid with runes, pure gold. The butt-cap was pointed, in the shape of Dragon's wings. The dark metal gleamed dimmmly in the light of the forge.

In a serious tone, Rindir spoke, "The runes on the pole, they read 'Lo do the Dragonborn protect us, lo do they stand vigilant, and keep the fires of evil at bay'. The cold-iron is a sacred metal, better than silver and it makes all manner of fell-creatures fearful of the very weapon when their in its presence." Goliath hefted the mighty weapon, it stood nearly four inches taller than he. "Thank you my friend, this is a gift I shall wield with the might of our people." As Goliath began to walk away, Rindir called to him, "May the Matron Huntress guide you, brother." Goliath looked back as he saw Rindir's eyes flash yellow, then back to blue. Goliath did the same. He continued his way towards the Shaman, Bodhran.

He crossed the bridge, trudging through the snow and ice using his new weapon as support. He reached the cabin of the Shaman and walked inside, pulling the hood off his head. An old man sat in the small cabin. Furs, books and scrolls, cupboards of food and drink as well as a bed were all that were inside the dwelling along with a totem in the corner. "Goliath, I have been expecting you." The old man stood up, his long beard passed his waist, his grey hair passed his shoulders. His brown and white robes flowed across the floor as he came to Goliath.

"We have much to discuss my young son." Bodhran spoke as Goliath bowed his head, "I shall listen, Matriarch Father." Bohdran's eyes flashed yellow.

We made our way to Kraag, experiencing no more attacks along the way. When we arrived, Goliath gave us a quick rundown of the village and told us to meet in the tavern later tonight, then walked off to do his own thing. I noticed him talking to a man who looked like a smith and got some type of weapon. I turned to our group. Shifting from one foot to the other, I said, "I'm heading to the tavern, if anyone cares."

With that, I marched off through the snow and made my way to the building Goliath had singled out as the tavern. I opened up the door and marched in. I was greeted by a typical Nordic tavern, with rowdy Nords drinking and telling stories, and bards playing songs in the background. No Argonians, though, I thought. The Nords looked at me as I walked in, but then grew disintrested and returned to what they were doing. I marched over to the bar and talked to the Nord tavernkeep. "My friend, do you rent beds?"

The tavern keeper looked up from the bar he was cleaning and said, "Sure do. Only 10 gold a night. But, if you don't mind me saying, we don't see too many of your kind here, stranger. What brings you to our fine village?" I sat down, laid my spear against the bar and said, "I'm on a hunt. And I'll take a room for tonight," I handed him 10 gold, then added, "And a bottle of beer, too." The Nord reached under the bar and handed me a bottle. "Here you go. 2 gold. Mind me asking what you're hunting?"

I handed him the two gold pieces and opened up the bottle as I said, "I don't know if I can say." The Nord said, "Oh, all right then. Well, hunting's a respectable trade, regardless of what it is you're hunting. Well, make yourself at home." He handed me a key. "Your room is up on the next floor, room 5. Have a nice stay." With that, he walked away to patrol the bar.

I took a sip of the beer, and stretched my legs, glad to be out of the snow andinto a warm building. However, my calmness was interupted by a paricularly large Nord clad in white fur walking up to me. "You're in my seat." he said, making himself look aven large as I turned around. I refused to be intimidated, though as I said, "There are plenty of other seats."He Nord raised his voice in anger, attracting the attention of all of the customers close to me. "WHAT?! What did you just say to me, swamp-scum?" I sighed and stood up, turning to face him. He was easily several inches taller than me, but I wasn't afraid.

"I SAID, there are plenty of other seats. Please, don't start anything. I'd hate to get this bar all blody." I said, trying to get this guy to back down. He didn't, however, and yelled, "That's it! You'll make my next pair of boots, lizard!" I once again sighed, then dodged under the Nords fist. I stepped to the side as he recovered from the momentum of his first punch. He turned to face me, and swung at me again. This time, I caught his fist, then jerked it over to the side so that his palm was facing upwards. I then slammed my knee into his elbow, smiling at the loud crack.

He screamed in pain. I cut off his scream with a fist to the jaw. He went down hard. The other patrons looked at me, and I realized that the music and conversation had stopped. I sat back down, this time at the farthest bar stool possible and took another swig of beer. The other patrons soon lost intrest, and the music picked up, as did the various conversations. I chuckled as I heard the tavern keeper yell, "Whoever this guy was with, please take him home!"

Balarithgaer looked back at the campsite scornfully. He had no wish to remember that place, so many lives lost and where he very nearly lost his sword. He pulled up his hood, and began the journey.

Kraag was a picturesque Nordic town. Large buildings with thatched rooves, frosted windows and icicles hanging from the ceiling. But you could tell it was a town in crisis, a few homes and stores deserted. Windows were smashed and doors smashed in. Well, they're certainly here Thought Balarithgaer.
Once again, Goliath seemed to be taking charge. Good thing, too, as he seemed to know his way around the place, pointing out the tavern and blacksmith. Then he surprised balarithgaer, granting the group 100 Drakes each.
Balarithgaer was left to his own devices to find the general store, the Bosmer searched the streets, littered with rubbish It seems they don't care for tidyness here, either. He looked up at the sky, the sun was dissapearing, and it would be dark soon. Balarithgaer was about to give up on the general store, when he found it. Urgoll's Sack o' Junk read the sign.
It was truly a Nord store inside, trophies and stuffed animals littered the store. Balarithgaer felt out of place, and it didn't help that Urgoll was huge.
"Hehehe! What do ya want down there, lil' buddy"
Balarithgaer shot Urgoll a look. "I was actually wondering if you sold Alchemy Ingredients?"
"Sure we do!" Urgoll said enthusiastically.
"Hmm, well then... I would like a jar of brown Sugar, a bunch of Flax Seeds and 3 vials, please." Balarithgaer rattled of his list.
"Sure..." Urgoll collected the items, and put them on the counter. "32 gold pieces. Sure you can reach from down there? Haha!"
Balarithgaer glared at Urgoll. He collected his items, put the 32 drakes required and stormed his way out the store - making his way back to the tavern.

When he arrived, Balarithgaer saw Broken-Scale sitting in the corner, he hailed the barman, and took a seat next to the Argonian. The barman made his way to the bar.
"What'll it be, Bosmer?" The barman asked.
"One room, and a mug of mead. Thanks" Balarithgaer said.
"14 drakes" The barman put a mug of mead down.
Balarithgaer put down his gold pieces and sipped on the mead.
"So... Broken-Scale." Balarithgaer asked "I haven't got the chance to know you yet. What makes you tick?"

Gabriel Issac

Goliath handed each to the group one-hundred drakes. One hundred! I headed towards the blacksmith, a large building made of stone. I walked inside welcomed by a warm lit fire and a friendly smile.
"What can I do you for?" The Nord asked as Goliath exited the building.
"I'd like to trade these in", I said as I lay my steel longsword and iron arrows on the table. I dropped the drakes on the table then asked if I were able to purchase a silver longsword and a better bow and arrow. The Nord accepted, counted the drakes then went back behind the store to pull out the weapons I repuested.
The blade was shiny and gleaming, double-edged with a sharp point. The handle was wraqed in a black cloth. The bow was from black wood with a finishing polish and the arrow heads were iron, but the wood much stronger and the arrows sharper. I had once heard of iron repelling 'evil', so it was no misteak prisons had iron bars. I was unsure wheter to beleive this matter or not. I picked my new weapons up, passed a thank-you to the blacksmith and headed out back to the cold air. The town was quiet somewhat. An eerie feeling overwhelmed me.

Where could Gillie be at the moment? I wandered. He could at least teach me the simplest of magick, as I was in dire need of it.

OOC: Just a note, Cold Iron repels evil.

Kraag

The small city - or large town, depending on how you looked at it - seemed none too bad to Gille. It wasn't the most comfortable place he'd been to, but it was certainly better than Goed Rust, though that wasn't saying much. The spellsword wasn't a picky man and this settlement would do quite nicely for a bit of rest, particularly with the added benefit of money that had so unexpectedly graced them when Goliath dispersed a hundred septims to each of them.

Well I'm keeping this money, for sure. Or at least what's left after I get some supplies. So where does one find a bakery or something of the sort here..?

Navigating the town wasn't that hard, especially since Gille had quite some experience with cities under his belt, being a native of High Rock - which could boast pretty large cities - and having visited Sentinel. This place was tame in comparison, even if he didn't know where most things were, asides from the vague directions they'd been given by their leader (of sorts). Still, the day was quite pleasant and calmly wandering about Kraag was definitely better than the journey to it. With their luck, that'd probably change, but for now the Breton was simply glad that he didn't have to worry about his safety too much, what with there being qualified people who were paid to do that for him. Goliath seemed to know his beasts, too - being one himself helped, probably - so Gille was quite confident that the creatures that had plagued them at night wouldn't be breaking down the walls anytime soon.

It didn't take long to find the bakery and make his rather modest purchase. The baker - a rather short Imperial with Nordic features, suggesting either a Colovian or Nordic ancestors (or both?) - was a none-too-bad chap, too, though a bit grumpy, as Gille decided while watching the flour-clad man wrap up his supplies into a small bundle, which the Breton promptly placed into the largest inner pocket of his robe (that pocket was mainly why he didn't have a bag of some sort like many adventurers). Deciding that he could get some smoked meat in the tavern, he bid the baker farewell - to which the Imperial responded with a short grunt - and made his way towards the tall-ish building. There was a slightly detached look to his gaze as it wandered around the buildings on both sides of his path.

As he was approaching the tavern, Gille noticed Gabriel emerge from what Goliath had claimed to be the blacksmith's workshop. Considering briefly whether or not to invite the other young Breton with him or leave him to his own devices, whatever they were, the Spellsword decided on waving to his compatriot and gesturing towards the tavern with his head.

"Care for a drink or something like that?"

Kraag was a nice little town, and at first light I loved it. My equipment was all in order so I didn't want to waste any money after walking into a store. Seems like a nice place to exercise I thought.

My gear encumbered me more than I would have liked, and so I decided to stop at the tavern and get a room. I could leave most of it there and then meditate a little. Further, I realized that throughout the trip i had been neglecting my vocal workouts. I pulled out the twelve gold coins that most taverns cost and followed Broken-Scale into the tavern. Oh, how nice it'll be just to sit, think, and chant I thought.

I payed the inn-keep his ten coins, and tipped him the other two i had taken out of my pocket. Finally i trotted upstairs, past some Nords enjoying their alcohol just a little too much. The music stopped briefly, as did the clamor of Nordic voices, and I assumed one of my fellow travelers upset the delicate balance of things that goes on in a tavern, at least taverns in skyrim, and ended up in a fight.

Once I reached my room i threw all my expensive gear and most of my money into the wooden room-safe, and locked it with the the provided key. What good'll this do? I realized, most of the patrons here could dismantle this safe with their bare hands. However, I took the precaution anyway and then changed into my robe and hat and began my meditational chants.

I that i might have been annoying some of the tavern's other customers, and (although the window in front of me wasn't that shattered from my practice,) I got up to move outside. On the way downstairs a Nord stopped me. "YOU!" he shouted, "I've heard of you... I think." his breath was putrid and I almost couldn't stand it.

"What've you heard of me?" I responded.

"Aren't you that wereboar hunter?" he managed, through the fermented... something he was drinking.

"I was, and am. Why?"

"Just a a few days or so ago I was out hunting and we say a massive horde of Werewolves, headed down towards Goed Rust. What do you take of that?"

I started laughing. "Friend, let's just say that they might want a new alpha some time soon."

then quickly ducked past him down the stairs, having forgotten my reason for leaving my room. Upon reaching the bar again, I saw the crowd leaving a small radius around Broken-Scale. He and I had yet to know each-other at all, so I strode over to him and found a vacant seat on the non-wall side of him. Then I remembered the fight I heard before.

"How much taller than you was he?" I started out.

Nathaniel Leinheart - Kraag

The journey to Kraag had been a harrowing one but thankfully the hellspawn hadn't attacked them during the journey. After the great gates opened the band of adventurers filed in, with the gates closing behind them. Goliath the so-called leader then addressed the group that they could do as they wished but were to head to the tavern by nightfall. Before leaving the giant handed each participant of the group a hundred drakes. Nathaniel wasn't keen on taking handouts but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After Goliath stomped off each member of the group wandered off finding something to do. Nathaniel stood about for a while before deciding to find a bakery as he had a taste for cherry pie. Walking through the towns streets several vendors attempted to entice Nathaniel into purchasing various goods which he politely declined. Not to far ahead Nathaniel noticed a drunk carrying a bottle of alcohol had bumped into a noble who quickly pushed the man to the ground. what the noble didn't notice that the drunk had cut his purse. Nathaniel had employed the trick before when he was out of Cyrodiil and desperately needed funds. The drunken cut-purse then stumbled down the street towards Nathaniel.

As the man got close Nathaniel stuck his leg out causing the man to fall to the ground. The bottle of hooch exploded upon contact with the ground causing shards of glass and the containers contents to stain the road. With a sly grin on his face, "Need to watch your step, my friend."

Nathaniel then noticed that several bags had fallen out from the pretender's shirt. Several street vendors saw this and began hollering for the guards. The noble who had his purse cut just minutes before realized his money was gone and rushed over to see what was happening. As the thief realized he was in trouble he attempted to flee but two guards promptly ran up grabbing the individual.

"You showed just in time, guard. This degenerate stole my gold and I want it back.", the noble said while pointing at the thief.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're going to take this guy in, any stolen property will have to be claimed at the guardhouse."

One guard drew his sword and began leading the thief off while the other collected the bags of coins on the ground then followed his partner. The noble was clearly not happy about the arrangement but followed behind the two guards.

Nathaniel chuckled to himself before continuing down the street. Nathaniel knew he had found the bakery as many wondrous smells emanated from the shop. Stepping inside the powerful aromas immediately assaulted Nathaniel's nose. Walking up to the counter Nathaniel spoke to a rather large gruff Imperial.

"I'd like a slice of cherry pie if you have any"

"We don't got any more cherry. Got strawberry though." the man replied.

"I'll take a slice of strawberry then. How much?"

"That will be eight drakes." the baker said as he cut a slice of the pie placing it on the counter.

Taking the required amount of coins from his pouch Nathaniel placed them onto the counter. Nathaniel then grabbed the pie and exited the establishment. Now all he needed to find was a mage.

I closed my eyes, tried to quiet my mind and calm myself, but not even 10 minutes later, the Bosmer from our group walked up to me and sat down. I heard him order a room and a mug of mead, and then he said, "So... Broken-Scale. I haven't got the chance to know you yet. What makes you tick?" I opened my eyes and took a sip of my beer. I opened my mouth to respond when the Nord from our little party walked up as well, asking, "How much taller than you was he?" I stared at him blankly for a couple seconds, confused. Then I thought, Oh, he must be talking about the fight!

I turned my head to face him, looking straight over the head of the Bosmer. "Only a couple inches. But he fought like a child. No finesse at all." I chuckled and looked at the Bosmer. I said, "Money, mostly, friend. I don't have much else to fight for." With that, I drained the last of my drink and set it down on the bar. I waved my hand at the bartender, indicating I wanted another one. "And you two?" I asked, addressing both of my brothers-in-arms. "What do you guys fight for?"

The lizard, broken scale, asked me what I fought for. I can't answer the truth, the well being of my family and the good of skyrim. It'll sound like a load of horker crap. I don't wanna lie either. Time to practice my politics. I thought

"Werebeasts are, in general, evil. I have nothing against Hircine, but the idea of a man – not an elf – that cannibalizes on other men just because he is told to if sick. Further, it's scary to think that a disease could strip me of my free will and make me hunt other men. It must be eradicated. They must be eradicated." I said. "And the fact that I lost my parents to a werewolf pack doesn't help much either."

Before Broken-Scale could reply, Hjolifur interrupted, asking how tall someone was, Balarithgaer was oblivious as to what this meant, maybe some sort of inside joke.
Broken-Scale drained his drinkl and answered Balarithgaer's question "Money, mostly, friend. I don't have much else to fight for" A greedy bunch, aren't we Balarithgaer criticized in his head, even though his answer was the same. Broken-Scale wanted to know the same, and Hjolifur answered with a fairly reasonable explanation, describing bis hate for werebeasts, and the fact his parents.
Balarithgaer expressed his own reasons "I've never had a lot of cash, so I wanted to see what it was like" Balarithgaer paused and took a delicious sip of the mead "Also, I plan to go home to Anvil to see my parents. I haven't seen them or written to them in about 20 years... I don't even know if they're still alive..."