OOC: Here is what I suggest for your armor: Masque of Clavicus Vile (it just looks barbaric and [censored]) and Cuirass of the Saviors Hide. For a weapon. I reccomend either Volendrung, Mace of Molag Bal, the Cleaver of St. Felms, Skull Crusher, Crosier of St. Llothis, or Scourge. I'll post in IC in a moment cause I have to make dinner, just assume I'm slicing a few Akiviri soldiers.

Actually guys, lets all stop the posting, we will resume tomorrow when everyone is ready.

OOC: Man you guys I can barely handle this! I might have to drop out if you guys keep flying forward like this! Maybe we should take turns posting so we can at least be on the same page?

And sorry Jonas, I know you wanna wait till tomorrow, but this post wont really add anything new, I just need to catch up really, I can only squeeze in just about one post a day and there's only so much Aluna can do unlike you guys, hacking and chopping your way around.

Then the Dunmer decided to give a rousing speech. Aluna only listened partly. She only needed to get to Leyawiin at this point, and she might as well just follow them until she got there. Hopefully the Dunmer was true to his promise.

The Breton spoke.

"You know... I dont think any of us have properly introduced each other.. not very civilized anymore, it seems. My name is Iridius Darkweaver, and as you can probably tell, im not one for civilization.. dont ask why, I have my reasons. I used to live in High Rock, then came to Cyrodil to fight some cultist... a few things happened hear and there, which lead me to become what I am today... what you people would probably call, a savage."

Aluna flipped a page in her book mumbling to herself. "You know who I am, apparently the Dunmer already does..."

The Dunmer, she now learned, was named Theram, The Breton Iridius, and the Khajiit I'ji, and very quickly and loudly learned that the Nord was Donljak.

Suddenly a messenger appeared, obviously the bearer of bad news. ""Chancellor, a Warship has been spotted coming up the Niben, they have Ballistaes and are pummeling the Waterfront!"

Chancellor turned to adress them all. "Now is the time to decide! Will you help or not, Tamriel depends on you! The Blades are waiting in the Prison Courtyard, now is the time to make a decision."

"I'm in, are you all?" Theram was readying for battle.

The Nord was in for sure, eating septims happily. He spoke kindly to Aluna, though his volume pierced her ears. “And my fair smelly lady shall rest assured that Leyawiin will be the place where the greatest bloodbath of history occurs, if someone dared to touch your father! Does he smell as good as you? I bet he can catch Rabbits!”

Aluna just stood and followed everyone out into the battle.

Once at the watterfront, fighting was intense. Donljak was already swinging madly into the fray, being pelted with arrows. Theram and Raccal were talking to the Khajiit and she watched him sprint to the warship, disappearing out of sight. Theram and Raccal proceeded to give Donljak the cover he desperately needed.

Aluna, decided to put her ring to good use. The speed it gave her allowed to rush into the fray behind Donljak, though he was currently occupied. Pulling out her blade and holding out the Wabbajack, she hoped for the best as she fired at the monkey archers firing upon the Nord, some changing into other animals, one becoming a large boulder rooted to the spot. The flow of arrows became staunched at best, though only temporarily.

Her gift of dodging due to the Warlock's Ring aided her immensely in this fight though. Her short comings as a soldier were made up for in her efforts in support. But she ran for cover as one of the Wabbajack's victims transformed into a large, enraged ogre.

A crushing fist smashed Aluna into her side, flinging her into a crowd of Legion soldiers.

Damn you Sheogorath! Now is not the time for this!

The ogre was not picky about sides at the moment luckily, immediately turning on the Akaviri. Another distraction. Aluna brushed herself off, her Ring healing her fractured rib slowly but surely. Aluna kneel'd to the ground to avoid being spotted by an Akaviri as she recuperated.

Aluna staggered as she pulled herself up, arrows flying overhead and swords clashing. She began to seriously doubt her abilities in a fight.

An Akaviri soldier pulled his sword down in front of her face. Aluna jumped back and with a flash hand her hand was around his neck. Aluna's hand turned cold and the monkey froze from the neck up. She stared wide-eyed, thanking the nine for her reflexes. Though she should probably be giving thanks to the ring as well.

Raccal was shouting orders at a small band of soldiers and ordered Donljak to lead the way to pierce the center. Aluna sprinted to Donljak's side. Changing Akaviri into various objects along the way.

OOC: It's not the best I can deliver I know, but with the small amount of space I can work with because of how fast this is going, and the short amounts of time I can post, is really making this hard. :wacko:

Rather good indeed, Sabboth.

SABBOTH HAS MADE THE LAST POST UNTIL TOMORROW.

OOC: Sorry for the long delay guys, I just slept like Rip Van Winkle. So lets get this party going eh? Who wants to make the first post?

ooc: and I'm just on my way out the door! Ack! Will post when I get back in a little bit.

"Ah, my good lady the savior is here! Blessed I am indeed to have such a kittyloving Lady by mi side! Praise sheogorath, for I wanted to save the one who should turn out to be my savior! I am in your debt, my fair lady..." shouted the muscle mass to Aliuna as it noticed she was on his side. Sheogorath has a brilliant mind.

The nord took another chunk of venison and gulped it entirely without even chewing it. Right after that he flipped two more septims into his mouth and began his chewing pleasure.

"So, what are we waiting for; those damn monkeys and stinkey kitties stole my cheese! And I like my stinky cheese!" he started weeping on Therams shoulder. "My cheeeeeeeeeese!"

He suddenly stopped crying, shook his head, like waking up from a bad dream and spoke out loud in an alarmed voice: "The kitty! It's in danger! I almost forgot! Damn you stinky cheese! We gotta help my kitty! Still so young and tender?"

Impatiently, he looked around, as he was looking for something impossible to find.

Where are you kitty? I can't smell you anymore?

OOC:



That would be me...

Iridius was helping in his own way, not being seen as he snapped the necks of the troops and surprised them by strangling. Thanks for being what he was, he had somewhat improved strength and agility in his human form. Nothing compared to the might of his true form, however still very useful for situations like this. Since the form of a werewolf was the work of one daedric princes magic, and the ring was another, one had to be shutdown while the other was in effect... mainly the one that was opitional for Iridius.

When in his wolf form, Iridius was not able to use the ring. Not like he would ever think of it in that form. However, in his human form, it was very nice to be silently killing his enemies without any trouble.

Iridius then looked toward the Warship, it seeming to be moving around off its course, one of the invaders seen trying to regain control of it. A small amount of smoke seemed to be coming off where the ropes once were.

"Perfect." Iridius said, smirking from the roof on the house he was on. Suddenly, he felt much vibration as he could hear breathing behind him. Turning, Iridius saw a large ape-like figure glaring down at him, beggining to stomp forward.

"What!? How do you see me?" Iridius said, more to himself then to his opponent. He then leaped off the roof of the shack, onto the ground. His hands... they were visible! Iridius looked up, hearing a roar come from his opponent as it leaped down toward him. "NO!" was all Iridius shouted, before being grabbed by the throat and flung into one of the shacks, his entire body covered in rubble.

(ooc: short-ish, but will serve as a cheap introduction)

Issaak had waited for his opportunity. During Ocato's speech in the chambers he'd simply stood in the corner and observed. When asked if he was ready, he simply nodded. When the warship report came in he was concerned. Several of them looked too small to maintain any sustained offensive...and one of them's state of mind was even more of a concern.

But there was no time for that now.

The Waterfront was madness. The town's inhabitants ran around them, screaming for mercy. The dead were starting to litter the street. The nord surged forward, furthering from brisk walk to a full on run as he moved in toward one of the attackers. The monkey he was moving toward seem him before he reached it and let out a yelp of surprise. Issaak's hand moved to his side and headed to draw the blade from it's sheath. The enemy moved. Fast. So very fast. It's fist slammed into his face and sent him stumbling backward. The entire world went white for a moment.

The sword, free the sword.

It took him a moment to draw the blade and in that moment the creature rushed him to strike again. His vision was slowly coming back, but it was still a haze. Three of them? Which one was the...

The one in the middle. The one with the smell of wet and fur. That one.

He whipped his sword up into the air and brought it crashing down on the enemies head with all the strength he could muster. There was a sickening crunch, followed by an even more disgusting spirt of blood that landed square across the hide. His enemy quivered once and fell to the ground. He held up his bloody weapon and wiped the spit from his beard.

"WHO?" He roared across the battlefield, trying to take stock of the place "Who is in command here? Who?" The smell of the place burned his nose. He couldn't concentrate. Couldn't plan. He had to get orders.

Aluna heard Donljak shriek in front of her. “The kitty! It’s in danger! I almost forgot! Damn you stinky cheese! We gotta help my kitty! Still so young and tender…” She poked her head underneath Donljak's extended arm. The warship was sinking, crashing into the bay. J'inji must've been successful! But judging from Donljak's sudden despair Aluna assumed that he must be in trouble. Aluna needed all the help she could get to find a way back to her father, and she couldn't risk letting someone like J'inji lose to a few monkeys and tigers. Besides, she wasn't doing anything to contribute to the fight on land. She felt utterly and especially useless when she looked up to the battle scarred, bloody Nord right in front of her, plus Theram and the Redguard not far off. She had to go see if he was okay. She hoped that if her search was fruitless, she would hear from him again on shore.

She ran underneath the weeping Nord, swinging the Wabbajack wildly around her.

Door, Deer, Goblin, Wisp, Tree, Post, Akaviri transformed left and right, clearing a path for Aluna to speed down and into the water. Cat's don't like water, but lizards do. Well... some lizards do. She dove in. Bodies and timber floated around her in the misty deep. Lights from the fire danced on the surface of water and blood was tainting the liquid all around her. Breathing in bloody water was not pleasant at all.

From what she heard of Theram's plan, J'inji was sent to the helm of the ship. So she swam to what was left of it through the charred wood and splinted hull. The massive ship was crashing into the bay, half of it was submerged. She groped hopelessly along the wreckage. The rudder wheel passed, broken at the base. She must be near. Following the side of the hull, she found a drowned Ka'Po'Tun commander with a large splint of wood piercing his belly, floating limply. It was covered in blood, wisps of red streaming from it's body. No sign of J'inji. But, there never was a sign of him in the first place. She scanned the water, there must be some way to spot him. Then there it was. Though Aluna wished that there was a better way. A shape of a body was visible, further out into the water away from the wreckage, blood flowing from what seemed nothing. The red mist stuck to a glass-like figure. She swam into it, bumping into nothing but feeling what seemed like a body. Without a doubt it must be J'inji. She wove her fingers into what she thought were some belts loops. Or maybe it was his coat collar. She couldn't tell, but she swam upwards to the surface with J'inji in tow. Before long, she dragged him onto the shore. Akaviri were surrounding her, and J'inji's limp body. Aluna knew how to heal J'inji, but right now, it didn't seem like it would do either of them much good.

ooc: Alexei_K, could you please post your character sheet in a post here? We currently have no idea what you look like, nor what weapons you're carrying.

And thank you very much, Sabboth. For a moment there, I worried that I'd have to leave the RP due to character suicide.

ic:

J'Inji was floating... both figuratively and literally. He felt dizzy and disoriented, weightlessly turning until he couldn't know which way was up. He'd heard that dying slow could be like that.

Except that he'd never heard of slaughterfish coming to gather one's soul.

Wait... SLAUGHTERFISH!

He jerked awake, had enough time to realize he was on dry land, and then turned to expell more water from his lungs than they logically should have carried. He gasped loudly for breath, coughed again, repeated the pattern twice more, then collapsed limply into the sand.

That was the last time he played the lone hero, EVER. The martyr complex was far better suited to those bigger and not as squishy.

He looked around, alarmed by how dizzy he still felt. Was it lack of air or blood loss? If it was the latter, he was in trouble.

The Akavir were still as thick as thieves on a Mages' Guild Hall... so the battle was either still going on, or they'd lost it. The light hadn't even changed all that much; so he hadn't been out that long. Yet he distinctly remembered being dazed and submerged in water, slaughterfish passing by for a curious nibble. Either Nocturnal really didn't want him to lose her Artifacts at the bottom of Lake Rumare, or someone had pulled him out.

He rolled his head to the side, and got the answer to that puzzle. The Argonian, Aluna, stood nearby, looking as soaked as he felt. She, however, did not look at all uncomfortable in that state... in fact, the water made her scales glitter and seem to glow.

There was a circle of Akaviri around the two of them, looming like a pack of wolves over a recent kill. J'Inji wasn't sure how much use he'd be in defending the two of them: his quiver was running alarmingly low. To make matters worse, sitting up caused a wave of dizziness to rush over him.

"Thank you, Argonian," he choked out softly, quietly drawing his bow and nocking an arrow. "I am indebted to you, now. I hope I live to repay that debt."

Oh yes... no more blind heroics for him. If he survived this, he was sticking to business and thievery. Those didn't get you sliced open or drowned.

Not if you did them right, anyway.

OOC: No problem, couldn't leave a character as cool as yours behind!

Aluna stood, watching the Akaviri advance. She thought that they might not be cutting her down then and there due to the fact that there was the imprint of a body pressed into the sand with blood emitting from seemingly nowhere. And she didn't dare start throwing the Wabbajack around, lest she be dead all the quicker. The odds on the hopes that the Wabbajack would produce a distraction like an Ogre again were hopelessly nonexistant. She glanced at the water behind her. She could make an escape. But she couldn't leave J'inji behind.

"Thank you, Argonian," A choking sound came up from the sand and water spluttered out from the air. "I am indebted to you, now. I hope I live to repay that debt."

Aluna looked down. "That's all nice and well, but be quiet for now... Let's hope that we both live for you to repay that debt."

Then a wave came over her mind. A stroke of genius... or a brush with insanity. It seemed like it would work, and she really had no other options. She called out over the crowd as loud as she could, holding the Wabbajack high.

"Donljak! I found your stinky CHEEEEEESE!"

Theram sliced a Ka'Po'Tun soldier across his chest, he noticed the numbers of the Akiviri were waning. The Legion and the group were winning, as well as the warship burning. Theram looked around for the others, all he saw was Donljak who was ripping through Akiviri warriors like tissue.

Then Theram spotted Aluna and J'Inji, trying to keep hidden from the battle. Theram ran over to them, decapitating a spearman as he ran, but suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his thigh, he tripped and fell. Looking at his leg, he saw an arrow protruding from it and blood was gushing from the wound.

"Damn, dammit! Bastard Akivir!" Shouted Theram, snapping the arrow, the tip still embedded in his leg.

Theram got up and raised the Daedric Crescent, he spotted the archer, knocking another arrow. The archer fired, and Theram ducked and rolled out of the way, then he quickly got up, with a sharp pain coming from the arrow wound. He took out the tanto he carried and threw it at the archer, killing him.

The battle was over, Akiviri soldiers were retreating to the water's edge, being picked off by archers and killed by Blades.

Theram slung his blade over his back, retrieved his tanto, and looked around at the carnage. He then fainted.

OOC: I'll just assume we did the plan without any description.

Also, on Friday to Monday night, I will be offline for a while as I have to drive across the second largest country in the world to get back to my house. If I'm not back by Tuesday, simply assume I have been mauled by a bear during one of the many hikes or because we left food out in our campsite we have planned, and carry on with out me.

IC:

The battle didn't last long after the officers were killed, and once their wedge split the Akaviri apart, Raccal knew that they would come out of this one on the winning side. He went about the battlefield afterwards, using his spear to silence any soldiers who were still squirming on the ground, some pleading in a foreign language, and the Ra Gada was alwats looking for loot on the bodies of his enemies. He favored his left hip, as blood came steadily from a shallow but stinging wound, and his shoulder still ached and he suspected now that it might have popped out during the fight, though it was probably just twisted.

He found a few trinkets that might fetch a fair price at a jeweler, but the only thing of value was the small blade that he had. It was about two and a half feet long, and maybe an inch and a half wide, with a slight curve to it, and a razor edge. He wished he had a sheath to go along with it, but for now he tucked it in his belt.

He was oblivious to J'Inji and the Argonian's problem, but he noticed Theram collapsing to the ground, and he rushed over to the fallen mer,dropping to his knee's, and searching for the wound. His eyes locked on his leg, and the blood that was pouring out, gushes coming with every heartbeat.

He had little knowledge of what to do, but his experience had taught him to put pressure on the wound, so thats what he did, pressing his hands on the hole in Theram's leg, not knowing about the arrow tip still embedded.

"Theram, up you get now." he called to the man, firmly. He knew the man should regain consciousness, and he gave him a light slap on the face, while he increased the pressure on the wound, trying to stem the flow but also trying to get a response from the mer.

Name: Issaak Snowbourne
Race: Nord
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Warrior

Class: Barbarian

Skills
Major:
-Long Blade (70)
-Light Armor (50)
-Athletics (50)

Minor:
-Unarmed (40)
-Armorer (45)
-Acrobatics (40)

Misc:
Tracking

General Appearance: Pale skin, blond hair and thick beard, blue eyes

Detailed Appearance: He's a large, athletic nord at six five and the mid two hundred pound range. His hair is typically tied back behind his head, in a rather half hearted attempt to look civilized in imperial lands. He's got a very ugly scar across his back from a battle with the unicorn that he's deeply ashamed of, so it's rare to see him without a shirt or armor on. He tends to wear a very neutral expression though the intensity in his eyes during a hunt is unmistakable.


Weapons: His fists mostly, but there's usually a dagger on his side for the final kill.

Armor: Savior's Hide, huntsmen leather pants and shoes

Artifacts: Savior's Hide (explained in Bio)

Backpack: No backpack, simple his knife on his side.

Bio: To Issaak, he is the product of the proudest people of Tamriel. He grew up in Bruma surrounded by imperial influence. He hated it. His family instilled a pride in his people, believing that all of Tamriel would be there's if someone could unite the Nords to one purpose. The family were hunters. The top lesson was to be entitled to the sweat of your brow and to make your own way. He bucked authority, he hunted whatever he could. As he hit twenty he became something of a rebel rouser around town. He denounced imperial authority and finally fled Bruma for the wilds of Skyrim.

At his camp in the mountains of Skyrim, Issaak hunted. There were few creatures who could brave the cold but him. When he'd hunted the wolves, and the bandits, and anyone who came to challenge him he began to grow bored. Finally, someone visited him. A mysterious hooded figure who offered him the greatest quarry of his young life. The Unicorn. He followed the figures instructions, heading south to Cyrodil and eventually finding the unicorn grazing in a field. At first he was overcome by it's beauty, and the legendary creature left him alone. When he regained his thoughts and the hostility rose in his mind the creature sensed it. The unicorn attacked. The nord hunter leapt upon it, and the unicorn dragged him across a mile of fields and woods. The unicorn nearly killed him but he finally managed to cut it's throat and bring it down. He felt a moment of pride and then collapsed in the middle of the forest. When he awoke, the body of the beast was gone. Beside him was the Savior's Hide. He didn't understand what it was at first, until he paid a visit to the nearby Shrine of Hircine and it was explained to him. The spoils of a good hunt.

He was making his way back toward Skyrim when he heard rumors of the call. He has no love for the Empire, what he does have is a desire to prove the superiority of his own people. Believing that there was an opportunity for another hunt he headed for the Imperial City...to the hunt.

As Doljak saw that his argonian heroine went to the rescue, he thought: Again? She’s rescuing again? What a heroine, what an act, such bravery!

The nord then sprinted to the next pack of enemies and went on with the thing he was best at: slaughtering.

The madman neither knew nor cared if the following steps of procedure were being followed. It wasn’t that necessary, as the Mo’Tang and the Ka’po’Tung, his Monkeys and stinky kitties, were completely disorganized and panicked to the view of madness hacking through heavy armor as if it were butter. One after another fell to his powerful weapon, most of them were fleeing, and the ones who survived his weapon started either laughing hysterically or murmuring in their own language. He didn’t know what they were murmuring, but Doljak was sure that even the natives of his region wouldn’t understand.

After the last of his foes fell giggling to his knees, the mountain of muscle and metal looked around. One of the many advantages of being tall was that he could oversee thing pretty well. But considering the fact that this tall sheogorath follower was completely out of his mind and saw things his own way, he couldn’t be of any help if he was to describe the situation for other. However, he knew what was going on.

Doljak put his head up like looking at the sky, and began sniffing again. This scent… this sent… it reminds me of…”Kitty is BACK!” he rejoiced and began jumping and dancing with the corpse of a Tang Mo, only to let him fall again, because the sent was mixed with something the sane people called…fear? Why fear?
Then, from far away, he heard the desperate voice of her savior: "Donljak! I found your stinky CHEEEEEESE!"

He walked to the direction of the voice, and when he saw a group of Mo tang and Ka’Po Tun surrounding someone, he knew both his kitty and his sinkeycheese lady were in serious danger. He reacted instinctively. Arming himself with the BiPolar blade and dashing with the speed of a horse and the force of a bear he crushed everything that was in his way.

He arrived to Aluna and J’inji in a matter of seconds. Without stopping (on the contrary, Donljak was accelerating) he squashed two of the surrounding enemies, who were surely surprised by the sudden appearance of a mad nord, making an escape gap for both his companions. “Run, Kitty and Cheeselady, RUN!” he screamed in panicked voice. He somehow had the false feeling that they were lost already, although his brutal punches and slashes proved the contrary.

One Ka’Po Tun with a big Katana approached to him, attacking with a powerful chop, but the nord simply laughed and didn’t even try dodging the attack. He simply turned slightly to the left side, where his Steel armor protected most of his body, and the weapon cut a bit through the metal, but not enough to wound him. Doljak took advantage of the situation and bit into the stuck blade. He packed the tiger-like figure by the head, who widened its eyes in terror, and lifted half a meter over the ground. The creature, not being able to use the blade, as it was on Doljaks mouth, shrieked in panic and let go of it. The nord laughed happily (making the blade fall to the ground) and attached his blade on a belt he had on his back. He had now his other arm free to do what he pleased: the creature kept whining and begging for its life, while the rest of the akavir stood nearby stunned by the view. His waving about did not help him to stop the other hand of the nord, who grabbed him by the torso. “Let – Go-Of-My- KITTIES!” he screamed intimidating. With the last word he separated head from torso with one clean pull, and the Ka’Po Tun shrieked no more.

Having witnessed such brutal, senseless violence, the other warriors lost courage and let go of their weapons, running for their lives. Covered in akavir blood, Doljak threw head and corpse to his enemies and cried out: “You forgot your friend!” He looked down to Aluna and J’inji and said calmly and more to himself than to them: “You must never forget your friends, or they will forget you…” It seemed his mind was somewhere else.

After recovering from his short rage, he fell to the ground, kneeling to Aluna as if praying to a goddess: “Oh my fair lady, you saved me and now I failed to save you! Go! Kill me! I am useless, USEless, USELESS!” he started crying like a child who knew he did something wrong and deserved punishment.

OOC: sry for delay, but again, it was 4:30 in the morning the last time i posted... This tme i think I overdid it with my char, but whatever, hes just insane

J'Inji nodded when Aluna told him to be quiet, even though she couldn't see the nod. He was injured, weak, and surrounded by enemies: never had there been a better time for people to forget he was there. Unfortunately, his blood was staining the sand beneath him fairly obviously; anyone with half a brain could see where he was with no trouble.

Then, he jumped where he knelt when the Argonian suddenly shouted, "Donljak! I found your stinky CHEEEEEESE!"

Like a pair of heroes coming to save the damsels in distress (urgh... that made J'Inji one of the damsels), Theram and Doljak both ran into view with swords swinging.

First Theram ran by: there and gone like a swift wind, with only the severed neck of a Ka Po' Tun to betray that he had even been there at all. He was swiftly distracted by an archer, leaving the two of them still surrounded.

But then, Doljak thundered into view, smashing and slashing with wild abandon. Two enemies were immediately trampled, and the Nord began dispatching the rest of the rather intimidating force with the careless brutality of Sheogorath himself.


It was both one of the most frightening, and one of the most awe-inspiring things J'Inji had ever seen.

"Run, Kitty and Cheeselady, RUN!" the Nord cried, proving that, even in his berserker rage, he still recognized allies he'd only known for a short time. J'Inji wanted nothing but to oblige the suggestion... however, he was currently unable to stand much less run. He supposed he could crawl away, but that seemed more dangerous than not.

So instead, he elected to huddle in the sand and watch the madman tear Akaviri apart with his bare hands (although, to be fair, he only did that to one of them). J'Inji felt particularly ill as the Nord threw the severed head after the fleeing Akaviri.

Wait, the Akaviri were fleeing?

The Khajiit knelt up a little higher and looked around the waterfront. Everywhere, the Akaviri were retreating, only to be picked off by the last of the Legion. They'd won the battle... although who was to say whether they stood a chance of winning the war yet?

J'Inji could now see why the High Chancellor had been adament about training civilians for this; this was far too large for a couple people with powerful trinkets to handle... they needed every able-bodied man, mer, and beastfolk to take up arms to defend Tamriel. J'Inji was still uncertain what use he, in particular, would be... but the principle was nonetheless sound.

Then, the Nord fell to his knees next to Aluna and began sobbing to her. At first, J'Inji jumped at the sight of the bloody Nord, alarmed by what he had just seen. But then, his fear passed. The madman had come out of his brutal rage... he had really only been in it long enough to save Aluna and J'Inji from certain death.

Could there be a sort of twisted logic to the man's madness? Perhaps he wasn't so dangerous after all. The Khajiit decided to reserve judgment for now.

With some difficulty, he activated his Light spell, and his ghostly form flickered into view. There was an obvious black strip on his side, where blood still seeped out of the katana cut, and his fur hung heavily off his body.

So now, he not only looked like a ghost Khajiit... he looked like a ghost Khajiit who had died in battle and then been thrown in a lake.

"If you're useless, friend," he coughed, his tongue stumbling slightly over the word 'friend', "then I must be an outright detriment. You arrived in time; she's safe."

Aluna stood gaping as Theram and Donljak came thundering through the crowd towards them. For a moment she could've regretted calling for help from Donljak. Theram seemed to disappear from the view though, apparently thoroughly distracted. But the Nord continued on frighteningly. The nearby Akaviri, only having moments to react, turned just to see their lumbering opponent one last time before they were cut down.

“Let – Go-Of-My- KITTIES!” And with this, an Akaviri soldier was being single-handedly, and quite literally, decapitated by the Nord just after a pitiful session of pleading for his life. With a madman. The other soldiers just watched in fear as blood spurted onto the ground, onto the other soldiers, and onto Aluna and J'inji. Just a topping on the cake, seeing as her gills were still draining of bloody water at the moment.

J'inji was trying to move. Then she noticed that she could see him now, the faint light shining over him. He was obviously more wounded than she thought. He could bleed out at any moment, and he should've already been passed out.

Donljak kneel'd before her and J'inji sobbing. “Oh my fair lady, you saved me and now I failed to save you! Go! Kill me! I am useless, USEless, USELESS!”

"Now why in all of Tamriel would I do that? You just saved both of us. And when did I-" Aluna tried to recall any heroics she performed to rescue the Nord in any way. He must've referred to her efforts to slow the flow of arrows. "Nevermind. What's important though is that you did fine, we're both okay. Now please, I need some time."

She had to help J'inji now. There was no time for her to take him to a safer spot, before the blood loss caused permanent damage, in the form of death.

"Go Donljak, you need to help Theram and the others."

Aluna then, as gently as she could along with as quickly as she could, pulled J'inji underneath a dock to stay out of the way and out of sight from the retreating Akaviri soldiers. Some just might want that extra kill.

"Alright J'inji... I can't make you any potions. I don't have any supplies with me so..." She slipped off the warlock's ring. "Put this on." She reached for his hand. "It'll help you heal. Hopefully you might get some blood back... It's not impossible, I got some bone back not too long ago..."

Aluna felt her rib with her other hand, it was sore. The ring was a powerful healing tool, but it could only work so fast. But it had to be fast enough to save J'inji.

Iridius let out a growl, some of the remaining Aka-Vari beginning to approach him in the somewhat destroyed shack. For some reason, his ring was not working... why not? He could feel it wrapped around his finger... perhaps it had something to do with the massive amounts of Daedric Artifacts so close to eachother? No... one of the mages might of seen him using some sort of spell.. did Aka-Vari even have mages!?

Concentration came back to him as about three of the invaders began to close in, one being the giant hulking ape. Iridius looked to the skies, darkness seeming to be on its way in a few hours... wait...


No! the Breton thought to himself as he tried to pull himself from the debris, look for some way to get out of the shack then city. Not now! Anytime but now! He freed himself, standing and looking for a way out of the shack. None, the invaders had him surrounded. And then, Iridius felt a very sharp pain course through his body as he let out a loud yell, collapsing on his fours.

His chest seemed to push forward first, the muscles changing from within. And then his eyes, his yellow eyes began to widen much like the eyes of a dog. His mouth and nose both pushed forward, connecting together in a circular motion and transforming into a snout. Hair began to sprout all over the Bretons body, covering it completely as his ears extended into something that somewhat resembled elven ears. Iridius slowly rose, transformed and glaring at his three enemies. Pulling his head back and letting out a howl, the werewolf charged at them.

ooc: Gotta drop out guys, computer sort of died. Sorry for wasting your time! Will try to keep up reading it though.

If there was one thing J'Inji hated, it was being helpless. He detested being trapped, and had thus found it profitable to become an expert at the fine art of escape. Unpleasant contracts, legal consequences, social responsibilities... anything in any way binding was something to be avoided. He valued his freedom and savored his own ability to manipulate his environment. To do otherwise was to summon old, unpleasant memories of bowing and scraping and hoarding silverware under his bedroll.

Therefore, it was only natural that he was moving and talking, despite the fact that he was likely only sabotaging himself. He refused to give into the waves of weakness and vertigo running over him. Even as Aluna dragged him under the shelter of a nearby dock, he resolutely gritted his teeth and kept his light spell going.

The rest of his body didn't seem to be responding all that well to mental commands anymore, and there was a loud rushing sound in his ears that made it difficult to hear anything.

He didn't much care for the way the Argonian was looking at him either. Was he really that bad off? He'd taken all of two injuries, one of which had been barely more than a knick! Only the wound on his side was anything to be concerned about, and he could see at least three nearby soldiers who had taken much worse and were still perfectly capable of walking around.

Then again, J'Inji wasn't a soldier. He specialized in not getting hit, so it wasn't his fault that he coped somewhat badly when he was.

Next time the Dunmer tried to give him orders, J'Inji was haggling for a better deal.

"Alright J'inji..." said Aluna, her voice sounding muffled behind the rushing. "I can't make you any potions. I don't have any supplies with me so... put this on." She took off her ring and place it gently into J'Inji's hand. "It'll help you heal. Hopefully you might get some blood back... It's not impossible, I got some bone back not too long ago..."

His hands shook with weakness, briefly fumbling for the ring. Only his swift reflexes stopped him from accidently dropping it in the surf.

Now that he saw it up close, he could identify it as one of the Daedric Artifacts he'd studied. He couldn't remember which it was--all the rings blurred in his memory--but the significance struck him nonetheless. She was trusting him, a self-confessed thief, with one of her Artifacts.

He wasn't sure what to make of that.

With shaking hands, he managed to get the ring on one of his fingers. He slumped back into the sand as unnatural vitality washed over him. He hadn't been aware of the tightness in his chest until it began to ease, like a snake was slowly uncoiling from around his ribs. A final wave of vertigo threatened to push him into unconsciousness.

Then, the world stopped spinning and the rushing sound faded into an unpleasant buzz. He still trembled, but it was still an improvement. He glanced down at his wound, but couldn't see any obvious difference: it still looked black and bloody. At least it wasn't throbbing quite as much, now.

And then, because he was pathologically incapable of keeping his mouth shut, he gave a shaky smile and said, "This is one useful trinket. And trust me: I know my way around pretty trinkets." He glanced up at her, feeling warmth creeping back into the tips of his fingers and toes... odd: he hadn't even realized they were going numb. "Which one is this? I get all the rings confused."

The Nord noticed Aluna was dragging J’inji to a safe spot underneath a dock and thought to himself al was going to be well. His sanity flash began to make effect again, as unexpected and handy (or not)as madness itself, so that everything was more or less a bit more clear for him. Looked around, Theram and Raccal were plotting a new counterattack plan, Aluna and J’inji (he supposed it was him, although he saw nothing) were recovering themselves, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and the Breton What was his name again? Iridius? Doljaks memory was nearly flawless, when he was on his sane side, that is. I have a bad feeling about this fellow. I smelled something strange which I don’t recognize now. Strangely enough, the Madman seemed to lose his ability to smell and see through things (like invisible Khajid) when he was sane. And there was another handicap still to come.

The now short periodic sanity began acknowledging the wounds he was just taking during the whole battle. Now, in this instant, all the pain flowed through his veins. The runes on Doljaks body lost all their glowing, as if its life was draining. Sheogorath is sure a funny thing…gives and takes life as he wishes…

With an oppressed grunt, The mass of muscle fell first to his knees, and then completely to the ground. His wounds were now the wounds of a man, not a madman. He felt every single one of the nine wounds the arrows did to him, every slash he endured in battle, his force was draining, and he began to see everything very blurry.
It seems raw venison doesn’t have the healing properties I thought they had… he thought to himself with a smile. For the first time, he pronounced his companions names:

“Aluna, J’inji. Can somebody call for a healer? I fear I am not as tough as Sheogorath (he pronounced it in a sarcastic way) intended me to be.” He talked to them because they were not as far away as both Raccal and Theram. Plus, they had to attend matters of fight right now. “A healer…or some Illusion magic! Rally me, so that I can stand and fight again. Don’t worry, it’s just the pain…” It hurt so much when he was sane. His wounds would heal eventually.

“I… have to get up and fight again… I fear for the Breton. I …can’t tell why, not now that- ” Not while I’m sane. He was too ashamed to say that out loud.
Luckily enough, a howl interrupted him while he was talking. A deep, menacing howl. An inspiring howl. A howl of uncontrolled brutality and bloodlust. Ah. Just what I needed.

The runes went dim blue again, and an Doljaks eyes widened to an unnatural extend, twinkling like a ruby and a sapphire. He smiled in his peculiar own way and whispered loudly:

“Ah, our doggy has awaken!”

Then his hysterical laugh began to fill his body with energy. Yes. Feelings. Uncontrollable fellings. THAT gives me strength, THAT’S what I need! Maddyman is back, my friends!

He got slowly back to his feet, using his giant claymore as a support. As he rose to his full and ridiculously gigantic height, he clashed the blade of his weapon with his Steel pauldron and cried out vigorously:

“You hear it? It's our doggy! Let's go HUNTING!”

Aluna watched J'inji shakily try to put on the ring. He inspected it first, she noticed, and he gave her a quick glance. She reached out her hand as if to offer help to put it on. But after a few awkward moments, J'inji had the ring on. Aluna sat down on her knees with a hand on the bottom of the dock. She could feel the footsteps of either retreating Akaviri or advancing Legion soldiers. She could not tell. She watched J'inji with a strict concern for him, like she would as if it were her father lying before her.

She shuddered at the thought of her father being in the place of this Khajiit she was caring for. Because of this, she felt it her duty to look after J'inji, if anyone. He seemed to share the vulnerability that she had, when compared to the other warriors that were fighting above. Though she could probably never be as skilled as he was.

J'inji looked wary after he slipped on the ring, even though his bleeding began to slow. But, to the relief of Aluna, he seemed much more alive. Though that wasn't saying much.

Aluna noticed that it was getting dark. A crash could be heard off in the distance.

"This is one useful trinket. And trust me: I know my way around pretty trinkets." He was looking up at her when she turned back to face him, a small grin on his face. She was appreciative of his effort to be optimistic. She smiled back as best as a lizard could. "Which one is this? I get all the rings confused."

She took out her sword and cut a part of her pants off to dress his wound. She tied the cloth over his leg, then cut a longer length of cloth from her other pant leg to cover the wound across his side.

"The Warlock's ring." Aluna said quietly. The footsteps seemed to die down, clangs and crashes could be heard in the distance. There must still be a large group of Akaviri that were left behind by the others. Cowards. "Funny story it has, I'll have to tell you some time if we make it out of this..."

Then suddenly, a strangely distant but familiar voice was heard. It was Donljak. “Aluna, J’inji. Can somebody call for a healer? I fear I am not as tough as Sheogorath intended me to be.”

Aluna looked out over the dock and Saw Donljak lying on the ground. She was about to run out to help him but was paralyzed at the sound of a howl that pierced the air. She looked around with eyes open wide, looking for the source of the howl. That couldn't have been a wolf. One would not dare go near here during this battle, and one would not be able to produce a howl like that.

And once again to her amazement, when she turned back, Donljak was standing. Seemingly invigorated by the howl, he called out “You hear it? It's our doggy! Let's go HUNTING!”

Aluna did not know what to make of this. She retreated back to J'inji's side.

"By the Nine, I am going to go insane..."

She slumped backwards into the dirt.

Iridius leaped at the two monkey-men, grabbing them by the necks and squeezing them tightly, a snap heard. The ape-man slowly began to back up as the Werewolf sank his fangs into one of his victims neck's before ripping off a massive chunk of fur and skin. In this form, Iridius was at his strongest, yet weakest... he had no control of his body, and had to usually fight in order to make sure some people did not get hurt.

He usually let instinct do the work, but if harm came to anyone in the city, it would be on his conscience. The werewolf glared it's yellow eyes toward the ape man, letting out another howl and then snarl.

There would be much to feast on this night...

J'Inji had never heard anything howl like that. It was animalistic and unearthly at the same time. If the Khajit had not already been trembling, he would have started then.

The Nord, far more injured than J'Inji was, nonetheless pulled himself to his feet and happily cried out, "You hear it? It's our doggy! Let's go HUNTING!"

J'Inji had no intention of doing any such thing. Even if he had been capable of it.

Aluna slumped back beside him, mumbling, "By the Nine, I am going to go insane..." and J'Inji fought to sit up. His Light spell flickered, and he automatically renewed it; he needed Aluna to be able to keep track of him.

"Doggy?" J'Inji gasped. "Isn't that his name for the Breton? Is he saying that howling was the Breton?!"

He'd never heard a howl like that, but he'd heard of them. He'd lived his last nine years in High Rock and Skyrim, where stories of such things wove in and out of children's tales and adventurers' braggings. Hearing Doljak cry that the noise was being made by a Iridius only made his memory of those tales come rushing back.

No, Doljak is a madman, servant to Sheogorath. You can't trust his judgment.

Except... he does seem uncommonly perceptive, doesn't he?

J'Inji looked over at the Argonian. He could sit up again without swooning, so the ring was definitely working, but he still had very little strength. Right now, the Argonian would still have to protect him if things went sour. If she succeeded, he had half a mind to give her a ship or something; she certainly deserved a reward for pulling him through this when her only real concern was for her father.

Another howl cut through the closing darkness, followed by a distant snarl. J'Inji's fur stood on end, and his tail wrapped tightly around his knees. There was no mistaking the sound, now that he suspected what it was.

"Sweet Daedra..." he whispered, his voice high and tight with fear. "A werewolf."