Matthew was angered by Fin's response, but stopped himself from drawing his sword. Instead he stepped in front of him and grabbed the argonian's shoulder. "Listen here Fin and listen good." he said in an angry whisper, "Never insult the legion, my brothers in arms or I will kill you. And we are not leaving either of them behind."

He felt a little ashamed for having an emotional outburst, but he wouldn't stand for insults to his brotherhood. But he felt he still owed Fin his opinion about the "innocents". "Look Fin," he said softly, "I agree that they shouldn't be put in harm's way, but what will happen to them if we leave them behind? They wanted to come on this mission, so we should respect that and let them stay."

He knew that either Ren or Dar'Shandi could be in the way, but he wouldn't force them to stay behind. "Let's keep walking." he said as he turned and continued forward.

Fin shrugged. "It's their deaths. And I wasn't insulting the soldiers who fight and give their lives every day for the safety of the Empire. I was pointing my statement to the official who sits nice and cozy inside strong walls while he sends a group of commoners to their death. Already we are weary, wounded, and tearing eachother apart..." Fin shook his head briefly. "I see your point,though. This mission was their choice to undertake."

OOC: That's fine, Peleus. Afterall, I forced a timeskip on you, and that's likely how it would have played out.
IC:

They had survived. They had survived... The very idea of it all was so ridiculous, and yet so awe inspiring. Perhaps there was hope for them yet. Perhaps the Gods actually knew what they were doing, choosing her and placingf her amongst this group of fighters and brawlers.

A frown creased her brow as she considered the group as a whole. Things did not look well for them. All they did was fight, at the expense of the rest of the world. She did it, Fin did it, everyone did it. And yet already people she would have sworn were bad news were showing new colours. Corrin, the prejudiced and mean-tempered nord had a soft side. Kharro- the malevolent dark khajiit- had actually saved her life!

Is it possible I'm not so good at judging people as I thought? she wondered. Or have I been right all along? Perhaps this journey is changing us...

It was certainly changing her. And the idea that, though at moments they'd been ready to kill each other, they might somehow evolve into a group of people that cared for each other and worked as a team- it was mind-blowing.

Of course, it's a long way coming... she thought. Because to become a team, we can't just pretend to like each other, or have enforced peace like we're all trying to at the moment. We all need to change, become new people. Become better people.

For sure, it would be hard. But, in one of her more dreamy moments, Ren wondered if this was more than just a suicidal mission to save the world. More even than a mission given to her by the Gods. Perhaps the Gods did not solely wish that. Because more and more, she was beginning to wonder: why us? And she thought that, perhaps, she was just beginning to glimpse why that might be.

Because even though we aren't good enough as we are, we will be one day.. she thought, a sudden light and hope growing in her heart. Because everyone can change, and we are already in a life changing position.

Because maybe you need to change if you want to change the world.

And that, at least, was a good thought.

As if her ears were burning, Ren came up beside Matthew and Fin, giving them a hopeful smile. "We lived," she greeted them cheerfully. "No disease. At least we may live until Cheydinhal."

Dar'shandi landed on his feet as Winna attempted to throw him to the ground. He had already been trying to roll off anyway, so the move didn't suprise him. Still, the manner in which he landed was amusing, with his shoulders 90^o to his waist, with his hands and tail just centimeters from the ground as he bent at the knees to accomodate the fall. "What'd I do?" Dar'shandi asked innocently, continuing to portray his groping as an accident brought on by confusion in his recovery. Rather than right himself in what could be expected from one in his position, instead his feet hopped and spun around, bringing him into a more of a bowing position, from which he straigntened himself.

Unfortunately, before she could answer, he heard Fin talking to the legionairre, and with his keener hearing, he understood that Fin was still doubting the acrobat's combat prowess, despite his rather bizzare ass-kicking he delivered to the corprus monsters an hour ago. "Damn lizard disease resistance," he hissed to himself, wishing the Argonian would just die and leave the party alone. "Don't insult Dar'shandi, or he will kick your scaly ass again," the khajiit shouted over to the lizard.

OOC: I finally has my interwebz bak!!!1!!
Also, I think I am making a mistake in describing my sword as a "shortsword". It is more like a miniature falchion, closer to a broadsword in the way it handles than a shortsword or dagger. I should post a sketch of it by the end of the week.

Ra'shinavi got a tap on the nose by Theresa "See what ya get? Dont be so reactive to everything.." she folded her arms. She looked at the argonian once more "Well lets get out of here. Caves stink something bad lately" she shook her head and headed towards the exit. Ra'shinavi just stood there, rubbing his nose where it was tapped, Noone tapped his nose like that. Sort of like punishing a kid for something wrong.

He flattened his ears in annoyance She always taps me on the nose, grr.. Well Ill live he thought and followed behind her, his tail lashing about in frustration.

Harlen frowned annoyingly . How could he of possibly lost the trail? he had a keen sense of smell , accute hearing , and almost eagle-like vision . Nothing could of gotten past his disturbingly efficient senses . How could such a big group of possibly evaded him?

"No point in soaking in it" A voice said in his head . "Get on with your job"

He sat on a nearby rock with his chin planted firmly in his palm , a tired yet still pondering expression on his face . His tatty , thick ginger eyebrows met just above his nose as he frowned in perplexed thought .

He had been tracking the group carefully and efficiently . No denying that . He had followed them and followed them , and he was dead certain that they had entered that cave . But what had happened after that? Maybe he had been contacted by his master , or fallen asleep . Whatever it was , it had effectively thrown him off track , and he couldnt really remember .

But if the group had entered the cave , then surely they would of left a lead to follow . A trace . A clue . Something he could follow . Better go into the cave and be sure rather than sit there and sulk .

He wrapped his cloak firmly around him , delighting himself as is embraced him and tickled his neck with its soft silk . It was almost like it was a friend to him , a very special friend , one that he could not do without . Drawing his crossbow from its strap , he recklessly made his way into the cave , giving no caution as to not be heard or seen whatsoever .

Infact , he was humming to himself . A jolly and upbeat tune , which stood on somewhat contrast to his appearance and manner . He peeked behind every rock and past every wall as he made his way deeper into the cavern...

OOC: I'm saying it now: if Fin and Dar'Shandi fight again, Fin wins. And we SERIOUSLY need some team-building.
Slight Character control now for the sake of taking Shandi down a peg. This really can't continue at the level it's at- and Dar'Shandi needs to not be aware of every fricking thing that happens.
IC:

While Dar'Shandi yelled at Fin, Winna reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, as one would a kitten to hold them in place and make them limp. Whether or not Dar'Shandi had the khajiit reflex was yet to be seen, but the message she was giving was clear. She was ready for every move he made: he would not be able to escape her grasp.

"We are leaving you in Cheydinhal, Dar'Shandi," she told him gruffly, carrying him most uncomfortably as they walked. "We're probably leaving Ren as well, but at least she didn't damn near kill another person here, and she seems to have learned her lesson."

She scowled. "You have not. In the army, you'd be shot for treason. And while we aren't in the army, we are at war, and you are ruining our chances. You act the idiot, and then, when someone laughs at you, you try to cut their throat. Not good enough, Dar'Shandi. Once everyone here is dead, do you really think you'll stand even the smallest chance against Ur? No. And you certainly don't think enough to actually be of use to the Legion."

She threw him bodily away from her. She was sure he'd land alright, but she didn't care: that wasn't the point. "Attack anyone else and I'll cut your damn tail off in your sleep." She wasn't speaking angrily, but low and cold. "You are clearly displaying yourself as the enemy, Dar'Shandi, and in case you haven't noticed, I kill the enemy, and I do it well."

It was perhaps the longest speech she'd given since she was a Priestess, but she did not dwell on it. She juts continued on walking and ignored Dar'Shandi, alert for any attack from him. He'd gone beyond the annoying but cute rogue, now. Now he was quite possibly the spy in their midst, and at the very least completely mentally unstable and a huge liability.

Screw leaving him behind for his youth... she thought. Leave him behind because if we don't he'll bloody kill us.

"That was quite the speech." Matthew muttered as he watched as Winna just left Dar'Shandi on the ground. She had let loose a fury of words that not even he would want to stand against. Other than the fact she said they were all going to die, Matthew thought it was a pretty good tounge lashing. But he didn't think she had to be so harsh on the young one. He was annoying and he did seem to jump on any insult towards him, but he had his good points. With a little discipline anyone could be useful, and the khajit would need quite a bit of discipline for this journey.

Matthew then remembered that Winna said something about leaving Ren behind too, and that troubled him. He didn't think that it was a good idea to leave either of the young ones at Cheydinahl, but it seemed like he would be the only one. Fin and Winna, the two he trusted the most right now, both agreed for the most part to leave Ren and Dar'Shandi behind. If they did leave them behind Matthew would always be worrying about them almost as much as he missed his brother. He would really like to discuss it with Winna and Fin later, but for now he wanted to enjoy the trip.

Dar'shandi grinned as Winna immobilized him. However, his initially formed cheeky response to the grip withered under the dunmer's verbal onslaught, replaced by a degree of indigination. "Dar'shandi has not attempted to kill anyone, nor shall he ever. He is an entertainer, not a murderer," he snarled, reaching into his pocket. Unfortunately, before he could stuff the sugar-cookie in her face to shut her up and possibly lighten her mood, he found himself flying through the air. He stumbled as he landed on his feet, flipping sideways to stabilize himself as he tried to get his feet under him properly.

"I am nobody's enemy," Dar'shandi hissed as he stabilized himself. He would have to get at Fin somehow... put the lizard in his place. As he thought of the dilema, he found himself remembering a bit more about Fin. Most outstanding was 'why did the lizard have moon sugar on him to give to the khajiit, unless...'. Dar'shandi smiled to himself, thinking of a better target for the cookie than the moody dunmer. He tried to unobtrusively make his way toward the argonian's general location, so he would just be seen as going to the front of the party.


OOC: Okay, where is everyone? Hi! hasn't been on since the 23rd of September(!) Moroni hasn't been on in three days, Buccaneer is still MIA, and it seems half the party failed to realise we opened this latest thread! Can we assume that the AWOL people were killed in the fight against the Corprus monsters just to keep things going, or would it be better to retcon them out of existance?

OOC: Ever heard of "Things happen"? Maybe something came up with school, or family, or they are just plain unavailable. Instead of getting rid of them, we could cleverly say that they had been following us the whole time. Now, there is a point when that becomes unacceptable, but now is not that time in my opinion. Oh, and Dar'Shandi can expect a hilt smash to the head follow by a blade at his throat. This will be fuuunny.

ooc: it would be good for those not present to input something, but we don't exactly have to rush things now do we?

OOC: I'm kind of frustrated that this story is not moving forward a bit faster. I'm here every day but I have nothing to respond to with my char.

ooc: Im here, making slow posts

ic: They both could hear the argueing and headed within that direction, khajiiti sensitive ears picking up the feint sounds and they both followed them. "Well looks like we have company eh Theresa?" Ra'shinavi asked his sister. She looked back at him "Well hey, if they 'are' friendly we should link with them. Maybe get our way to cheydinhal or somewhere." she nodded.

Both were tired, lonely with only an argonian to keep them company. Not exactly a great stance in life right now. Even with it being almost a horroor story to survive each day and night. Not knowing when the next corprus beast is gonna come along and smack their lights out.

ooc: ZOMG NEW DOOD!

So happy to have the time to be here finally. ^_^

Name: S'Kragki Jonathin Zeterra
Nicknames: Craggy, Johnny
Gender: Male
Race: Skyrim Khajiit
Age: 135 (Vampire, looks about fifty)
Birthdate: 3E 322, 13th of Sun's Dawn
Birthplace: Small village near Skyrim/Cyrodiil borderline.

Class: Vampiric Wanderer
Class Focus: Combat
Major Skills: Marksman, Long Blade, Unarmored, Athletics, Speechcraft
Minor Skills: Acrobatics, Restoration, Destruction, Armorer, Alteration
Birthsign: The Lover

Eyes: Crystalline Blue, paled and tinted slightly red as a result of his vampirism. Due to this, his eyes look almost purple from a distance.
Hair: Snow white and of different length in different places. Braided and dreadlocked in no coherent pattern, giving him a patched and rough appearance. One braid is longer than any other and reaches about to his hindquarters.
Skin/Fur Color: White with gray stripes in various places.
Height: 6' 5"
Weight: 212lbs
Build: Athletic

Physical Description: More or less http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a327/Aulakauss/RP%20pics/SKragki.jpg except with more pointy, catty ears.

Tattoo/Scars/Piercings: S'Kragki's ears are pierced with iron rings, two on the left ear and seven on the right. Has tattoos of both his wife and daughter's names on his left shoulder and great number of random battlescars.

Clothing: As seen in picture, S'Kragki wears a very rough pair of black leather boots and a heavily patched and stitched trench coat. Not pictured are his equally worn and repaired pants of a thick and durable canvaslike cloth, a green wool shirt and his Orcish gauntlets.

Armor: Besides his gauntlets, he owns nothing that could be called armor.

Inventory: A pack with a few vials of blood, some gold and some food.

Weapons: Steel longsword in nearly identical style to a http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a327/Aulakauss/RP%20pics/MadnessLongsword.png worn in a crude leather sheath buckled to the back of his coat, a worn Steel Crossbow with a small quiver of silver bolts at his left hip, small belt of sheathed steel throwing knives, six in all, buckled to right leg.

Magic: Hunter's Sight (vampire ability), Remote Manipulation, Heal Greater Wounds, Cure Common Disease, Sea Stride, Water Breathing, Shield, Searing Grasp, Shock Burst, Lover's Kiss (birthsign ability).

History: S'Kragki was born near the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil in a tiny settlement that native Nords avoided out of blind fear of its guardians, the Zeterra Sisters, a pair of psionically-gifted Khajiit women. The two sisters, Radadda and Karstine, watched diligently over their community for decades before Karstine found love in one of the tribe's males. A few months later, she became pregnant with S'Kragki, leaving the protecting work almost solely to her sister while she birthed and raised her kitten.

Growing up, the small Khajiit lived in the shadow of his mother's legend, pampered and spoiled because of her fame within the tribe. Despite the cushy treatment, Karstine trained him rigorously in magicka and his father, Ra'Tetri, did similarly with swordplay the moment he was old enough to lift a shortsword. He took better to blade than spell, but learned some basics in a few schools just to please his mother.

By the time S'Kragki came of age at eighteen years old, he was moderately skilled in blades, both swung and thrown, could cast a handful of basic spells, and was itching to see the world beyond the edges of his home. Headstrong and somewhat arrogant, things he never truly grew out of, the young man kissed his mother and aunt farewell, bade similar to his friends and struck out south into the Imperial Province.

After a few months of struggling to get by through hunting and gathering, S'Kragki found his niche in life doing work for the Fighter's Guild, though his disinclination to follow rules eventually got him expelled after less than a year of service and he was forced to make a living fighting under his own banner. He spent much of his time in taverns and inns, listening to the tales of people and swooping in to offer his blade for coin when he saw a chance. The Khajiit lived like this for a good twenty-one years, even teaching himself to use the crossbow in this time span, before he hit an unexpected twist in his life.

While doing his usual scouting for troubled people in need of having someone or something killed, a Khajiit maiden of about forty years came in crying to drown her sorrows in ale. Curious and both sensing a possible job and wanting to help the lady, S'Kragki approached her. After buying her a few drinks, he managed to get her to open up. Apparently, her name was Ja'Perssia and until recently she'd lived in a small settlement out in the sticks that had been burned to the ground by bandits, her family and friends having been killed. She spoke of how she'd barely escaped and how she wished to end her life, and despite himself S'Kragki felt his callused, mercenary heart melt for her. Though he had no home of his own, he offered to provide food and shelter for her if she'd travel with him and keep him company.

As often happens when one spends a great deal of time with someone, the two became great friends over the next year. He taught her to fight and she eventually began helping him with his missions. Over time, their bond began to become a bit closer than that of mere friends, having fought beside each other for four years and watched over one another for six. They began unofficially dating and, within a few months, Ja'Perssia was to have a child, much to his shock and initial fright, and at the age of forty-five S'Kragki became a father. The child was a girl and they named her Tamara after one of Ja'Perssia's late friends.

When the small child began to behave strangely, seeming to react to their thoughts, though, the two became a bit afraid of their own kin until S'Kragki realized that his child had the same gift as his mother and aunt had. The abilities were explained to Ja'Perssia and subsequently nurtured as Tamara grew up. Ja'Perssia began staying behind at camp with their daughter when S'Kragki fought, but was always there to support him when he came back, tending his wounds and giving him reassurance and love.

Their near-perfect little world turned upside down, though, after he began getting ill and becoming almost painfully sensitive to light after clearing out a smuggler's cave. Tamara, now seventeen, gave him a mental once-over and, as tears welled in her eyes, told her father that he had Porphyric Hemophelia -one of the smugglers must have been a vampire- and it was too far manifested to be cured. S'Kragki insisted Ja'Perssia and Tamara get as far away from him as they could, but neither would obey him. After fully transforming, he managed to hunt at night, killing bandits and rogues in their sleep to keep himself sane and avoid burning in the daylight, thankfully never hurting either of his loved ones.

Immortality, however, was a cruel curse. Tamara left them to pursue her own destiny at nineteen and neither parent heard from her directly again, though they heard tales of an assassin that fit her description and assumed she still lived. Ja'Perssia grew old and died one night in his arms and Tamara, unbeknown to him, bore him three grandchildren, one of which named after his mother, and later died, leaving the vampire entirely alone in his own personal hell. Unable to die and unwilling to allow himself to be slain or commit suicide, the Khajiit has become deeply depressed and, despite appearing witty and lighthearted to others is writhing in agony internally. The years after Ja'Perssia's death became a nondescript blur and to this day he often forgets what day or even what year it is.

Since Dagoth Ur's invasion, S'Kragki has devoted himself entirely to fighting the corprus beasts and dreamers and protecting what people he runs across, not wanting to see others suffer.

Personality: Outwardly, S'Kragki is humorously over-the-top and arrogant, taunting his foes to amuse himself, and although it would be more accurate to say he does this to ease the boredom and sorrow of living for an eternity, it appears as playful banter to the casual observer. Despite his deep sadness, he is often lively in the presence of company and generally helpful and kind to people of all genders and races, harboring no discriminations against race or social class. Around women he is often flirtatious, though he more often than not turns them down if anything comes of it, yet respectful at the same time and may occasionally even flirt with men just to be a nuisance.

Although very, very few have ever gotten to know him on a personal basis, any that did and saw him alone see that much of this outer personality is just an act for the sake of maintaining his own fragile sanity. Internally he is still grieving the loss of his mate and struggling to cope with his immortality and the fact that he must constantly kill to live.

Misc Skills [non-combat]:
- Talented at playing the piano and lute.
- Startlingly good at poker.

Anyway, nonconnected starting post just to get going since I have no idea who's where ATM. ><

ic: Upon a small hill a dark figure stood in the sun, a living shadow. The Khajiit's tattered coat flapped a bit to the side of him in the wind and he spat on the ground as he watched a few corprus beasts walk around. One of them, a lame corpus, had spotted him and was lumbering its slow, deadly way towards him. S'Kragki had been watching it approach for a bit and smiled now, deftly pulling the crossbow that sat on his hip out and slipping a bolt in. With a yank and a click, the weapon's string and bolt snapped into the 'armed' position. Raising it and shutting one eye, he narrowed the other and lifted the left corner of his mouth in a small grin.

"Damn, I wish I could get paid for this.." he muttered, a county twang to his gruff Khajiiti voice. His clawed finger depressed the trigger and with the scraping thunk of the string's release, the beast took a bolt in the skull. Walking up to the body a few meters away, he yanked the bolt free with a sickening svcking sound, wiped it on his coat and stuck it back in the bow, the accompanying grinding of tension gears and click of the lock a sharp contrast to the zombielike groans of the others below. Looking down, he saw the one remaining, deformed briast on the poor once-Dunmer and realized this one had been a woman at some point. "Sorry, babe." he apologized with a resigned, depressed tone, putting a fist to his heart in respect and shaking his head. He liked the ones that didn't look like people anymore the best; it hurt less to put them down. This one, he couldn't help but think, was someone's daughter, maybe someone's lover, wife or mother.

Despite trying to maintain thoughts that they weren't human anymore, S'Kragki hated this. Killing animals, criminals and Daedra was easy -it could be justified in one way or another- but this.. these were mostly just innocents, people with the terrible misfortune to be infected. It wasn't their fault, they'd done nothing wrong. They didn't deserve to die. In his mind, he knew the affliction was incurable and that if they still had any semblance of sentience they were in a hell beyond even his. He knew he was doing them a favor but.. it still made his heart ache.

"Satisfying, yet entirely depressing." S'Kragi sighed, kicked the dirt and started down the hill towards the beasts. He walked slowly, pulling a new bolt and putting it in his teeth before raising the crossbow again. The trigger pulled and the nail of silver launched forward, catching one of the smaller ones in the chest. It staggered and screamed in what might have been pain, a gurgling cry that was like nails on a chalkboard to the vampire, then began running awkwardly towards him. He waited for it to get close to him and snatched the bolt from his teeth, flipped it around in his hand and rammed it into the former Nord's abnormally squishy face. A puslike substance spilled out as the creature went limp and fell off of the bolt. One look at the brownish gore on the bolt and a whiff of the scent it carried was enough to deter him from ever doing that again. The bolt was wiped and replaced in the holster at his leg and, after checking the other bolt and finding it'd broken when it hit one of the thing's tough bones, S'Kragki left. The others were all the big, slow ones, so he ignored them.

After a bit of uneventful walking, the vagabond vampire came to a cavern. Raising an eyebrow, he took a swig of the vial of blood he'd been working on, popped the cork back in and put it in his pocket. "I smell life.." he muttered, then drew his sword and started cautiously inside.

EDIT: Minor spelling edits to sheet, and changed Water Walking to Water Breathing as was intended. He has Sea Stride, doesn't need two of the same spell.

OOC: Sibera, there are LOADS of new folks trying to meet up with your chars at the cave. meet up with them there before you continue on, semeingly without any travel posting.

Also, something on the way for you caves folks that'll make life more interesting for us walky-folks.

Thank you.
IC:

Ren didn't seem to evoke much of a reaction from Fin and Matthew, and besides, there was somebody in particular she wished to address. Someone who, she had to admit, she was supremely confused about. First, a manipulative, dark creature. Now, still a manipulative dark creature, but one who had been willing to save her life. She felt like she owed him an apology: not of words, for she had already given him that. But in action.

She fell in line with Kharro, reaching up to rest a hand on his shoulder for a moment, before removing it again, not wishing to overstep her bounds. The khajiit didn't strike her as one who cultivated physical contact, but that made her all the more determined to do so.

If he could save her life... well, perhaps she could save his. But her way.

"...Kharro?" she enquired hesitantly. "Can I talk to you? I'd promise I won't get off my head and yell at you, but, well... I'm a very angry person." She nodded with a gently mocking solemn expression- for while she wasn't exactly an 'angry person', she certainly came off that way quite often. "I understand if you want me to go away, but... well, I... I guess I'd like your company."

Even as she said it, the words were a revelation to her. She wanted Kharro's company. And she wasn't entirely sure why. The khajiit still made her feel uneasy- there was an air of darkness about him- but she still wanted to be with him. To be a friend to him.

OOC: Let's say we are getting out of the cave, and we meet Atomic's char on the way...

IC: While he was walking towards the exit with the pair of Khajiits, Wulm-Na continuously saw shadows and heard noises from within the cave. His companions didn't payed much attention, as they were talking the whole time. This cave is pretty big, after all... Probably we missed someone... Or something. - Argorian though while he silently loaded daedric arrow on his bow.
After a few seconds, he made a quick, sharp turn to the end of the tunnel, arrow aiming precisely at the head of the stalker. He was pretty surprised, as he saw that his target is your every-day Breton, probably in his mid-thirties...

OOC: Um... Bump ? :mellow:

OOC: Please guys, don't let this die...

OOC: Indeed. :shakehead:

ooc: o,o Mind if my characters were ahead abit then? Maybe hittin up alas character? Maybe try keep the ball rolling

ic:

The pair stopped alittle hearing the sounds of footsteps within the cave. Spinning around Theresa went further back into the cavern, while her brother stayed back with their argonian friend. Dealing with the strange stalker. She cast a weak invisibility spell getting around through the cave stopping when she spotted the male khajiit. Her invisibility spell dropping off. The female looked at this male a small fireball beginning to form in her hand "Who are you? What.. are you doing following?" she asked. Her eyes trained on his weapon.

Kharro felt a hand being placed very gently on his shoulder. He was calm enough not to react in a way he almost did right after the battle with the Corprus. He turned slowly. It was her.

What was she saying? She wanted to talk to him? To have his company? His?

What was the cause for this gesture? What was her intention? Did she mean to exploit him in some way? Was that the reason why he couldn't use his skills of persuasion with her before? Was in truth she the one who was doing the manipulating here?

What could he possibly say to her not to reveal his thoughts? Or, if she was indeed just a young woman with no hidden agenda, not to provoke any kind of an emotional response?

"Talk."

He uttered the word without any particular intonation. As if the word was but a pebble in his path. It was an invitation. It just wasn't made with opened arms like a normal person would have invited someone to a conversation.

OOC: Speaking as a pessimist (as ever), if this RP dies, I'd be honoured for you guys to join whatever comes next (don't know what that'll be, I'm trying not to think about it). You guys are probably the most fun group I've ever RPed with, my own grumpiness set aside.
IC:

Ren was watching Kharro tentatively. The khajiit seemed... well, it was really hard to tell. He had such a completely alien character. But Ren got the distinct impression that he was wary of her. Wary of me? she thought, bewildered. But... but I was wary of him... She found it unnerving to think that someone as big and scary as Kharro might find her somehow a threat- afterall, he could easily snap her neck, unless she missed her guess. But there are other kinds of power... Ren thought. Maybe, all combat set aside, I have something else. Maybe that's why the Gods chose me.

Maybe that's why I get in so many gods damned fights...

After a moment, Kharro responded in a most detached manner, "Talk." Ren waited anxiously for what was to come next, but it became clear quite quickly that nothing else was coming. Kharro had said his piece.

But what exactly was his piece? There was nothing mocking about it... no open refusal in his tone, although he didn't seem that welcoming either. ...Shocked? Ren hazarded.

Well. It wasn't perfect, but then she had verbally bit the guys head off, and he clearly wasn't the most pleasant of characters either. She could work with shocked.

She nodded in response to his monosyllabic speech. "Um... yeah. I guess... I guess if you're going to be stuck with us until Cheydinhal, it'd be nice to get to know you." She paused, and for a brief moment there was steel in her lilac gaze. "Not whatever you think I'll find the most tolerable," she added with a faintly fierce note in her voice. She softened somewhat again. "You. There is something very strange about you, Kharro. Something not altogether normal. And I don't think I can trust you..." she trailed off for a moment, and added quietly, "But I'd like to." She averted her gaze as she said this, as if this admission somehow weakened her.

ooc: Yay! I thought this was gonna die before I could get into it. And IN, if it does, I'll more than likely join whatever you make next. ^_^

ic: S'Kragki's feline eyes pierced the darkness of the cave as he entered, but there wasn't much to see. Rock, spiders, mushrooms, the usual. Thankfully the stench of corprus was not present here, though, and the vampire let out a silent sigh of relief. The cave twisted and turned a bit, but still, although he could sense that there was something living in here, there were no signs of it. At that thought, another occurred. People usually try to cover their tracks when they're hiding. Maybe there are people in--

As if in divine answer to his unfinished question, a small Khajiit woman materialized a few feet in front of him, seemingly startled by his presence. A fireball burned defensively in her hand, illuminating her soft, tan colored face and brown hair. Two emerald eyes stared at him through the semi-darkness. The sight of it made him freeze up and he had to catch himself so that he didn't drop his sword. Looking her over quickly, he swallowed hard and blinked back tears. It's just a coincidence. Don't get your hopes up. He told himself. But.. she looks.. so much like her.

A whole thirty seconds passed, him just staring stupidly at her, a distant look in his eyes, before he snapped himself out of it and realized she'd spoken to him. "I.." he stammered, his deep Khajiiti voice rumbling softly through the cave, "I'm not going to hurt you. Please don't be afraid." As he spoke, he wondered if she could hear the falter in his voice that came from resisting the urge to cry. "Are you.. by yourself?"

She wants to speak about ordinary things. About you, told Kharro to himself. Ordinary, like you are a farmer or a fisherman.

A very strong impulse of driving this Breton away with harsh words emerged within him, but he found it very easily to overcome it. Why was that easy? I hardly know this woman. It's not even been a day since I've met her. Why am I even thinking of opening myself to her?

Because she made you feel something.

That was it. Pure and simple.
In his mind, Kharro reached back in time, trying to find a memory of a sincere talk with anyone.

There were his superiors, giving him orders in the Sanctuary. There were also his peers but he never got seriously attached to any of them. Basically, Vicente was the only one who he ever talked to, before and after Kharro's transformation. This was the main reason Vicente had chosen him. Kharro did not ask Vicente for the Dark Gift. Vicente has offered it to him. And Kharro accepted willingly. Vicente was also the one who helped him defeat his initial uncontrolable craving for blood and with time turned him into an even more efficient tool of the Brotherhood than he was before. With his help he rose to prominence. His existence finally embodied a form of excellence.

All true. But he never fully trusted Vicente. He knew he wouldn't try to kill him when he came to infect him. There was a law against killing a fellow member of the Brotherhood. Also, for his own personal reasons, Vicente would never kill in his own home. But still, Kharro never fully trusted him. He just had faith that Vicente definitely feared his superiors more than wanting to kill him.

Was there anyone before? On the run from the East?
In his mind, Kharro winced from the memories he suddenly stumbled upon. They were like a thick wall, sepparating him from his earlier life. He had always believed that was because he wanted to forget his life of slavery. But without actually speaking those words in his head, he knew the true reason why he didn't want to venture in that part of his mind.

Treason.

The word alone caused the scar on his back to flash with pain. Was this what he was afraid of? To be betrayed? Was this the reason he put himself so far from the rest of humanity?

With utter surprise, he now realized he actually CAN reach into the beginning of his life. But he also knew he would hit the wall from the other end.

Until now, he only used speech as a tool to get to his targets. To complete the mission. But she wanted more than that. She wanted trust. She would sense dishonesty, he could tell. She wanted sincerity. Could he give it to her?

"I was once a slave," he heard his mouth speaking without his direct consent. "In Morrowind. Born into it. My father schooled me in passive resistance, ready to leap into attack should the propper chance present itself. He died in my arms, his eyes dictating defiance even as life faded from them."

OOC: I cut Kharro's story a bit short because I don't want to steal the thread. This RP is (mostly) about Ren, not Kharro. But I will continue, if the boss gives me a green light.

Matthew noticed that Kharro and Ren were actually conversing. "She must be grateful for his daring rescue." he muttered as he looked at them both speaking to each other. And now he wondered why Kharro saved his life if it was indeed him. "Probably since I have the badge." he muttered, "He just wants to use me, that's all it is."

Matthew then decided to turn his attention back to Ren. So far it seemed like she would be left behind, but he still thought it was a bad idea. Yes she did hold them back a small bit, but he didn't want to see a teammate leave like he did to his fellow legionnaires. It would be too sad for him to bear seeing one of the only people he had left leave their group. Matthew decided to speak to Winna about it since he already spoke to Fin. He slowed down until he was next to her and removed his helmet.

"Winna," he asked hesitantly, "You really think we should leave Ren and Dar'Shandi in Cheydinhal? I know it sounds weird but I just don't think that we should be throwing people out of the journey like this. She and Dar'Shandi chose to risk their lives just as we have, so what right do we have to stop them from staying with us? Fin also thinks we should leave them, but I need a good reason."

OOC: sry for absence!