OOC: Hard to get a post in

That makes a little more sense, but still, I think training would be more for the Legion, or at very least the city garrisons. I wouldn't think the Blades would get involved in such mundane things like that.

But its your RP so I'll just shut my mouth

IC:

Raccal watched the next few inutes of conversation with little interest, though he noted a few of them seemed to agree with him. As the Dunmer stepped up and began a rousing speech however, Raccal began furrowing his brow in disagreement, and shaking his head as the mer began talking about killing in the hundreds, like they were heroes of old.

He stood up, but before he could speak a messanger burst into the room, and said frantically that the Waterfront was under attack. Raccal's immediate reaction was he starpped on his shield, hooked his spear to his back, and pulled out his sling, making sure it was in working order, but he froze in the spot as the Dunmer asked if the rest of them were in.

He had to say something to this delusional mer. "I will help the Empire because as a member of the Legion, and I took an oath to protect the Empire until I am released or until my dying breath." he said, looking around at the others, before turning back to the Dunmer.

"But you say we will kill hundreds. You speak as if we are heroes of legend, crafted by the Gods to destroy evil and 'bring balance'." he said the last part with a hint of sarcasm, though he continued quickly to avoid being interrupted. "I don't know where you get these delusions from, but I know I am a simple man, who is only here by chance because I found this shield," he held up his left arm where Spell Breaker was strapped, "and a call was sent for men or women with Artifacts of old."

He paused again, shaking his head. "I will fight at the Waterfront, but only because my job is fighting at the Waterfront. I will fight side by side with all of you down there, but after that I cannot see myself in any of your company."

And with that, he fell silent, waiting for any response while itching to get down to defend his country.


OOC:

:confused:

ooc- jeez, you guys move fast. I can barely keep up... I can't imagine how tough this must be for Blademaster. >_<

edit: @ Blademaster: I just meant the stuff that piled up while you were golfing.

IC-

The Argonian was withdrawing into her book again... but at least she wasn't fleeing. Despite himself, the Khajiit found himself going out to her. There was something very simple about her desire to be reunited with her sire. It was a simple request that would perhaps be difficult to grant. Worth the price? Perhaps, depending on how she came out of the transaction.

The Khajiit's tension eased as the Breton introduced himself. He'd initially been averse to the naked man, but slowly found himself warming to him as their opinions--and Artifacts--meshed so well together. Odd, considering the Khajiit prided himself in his civilized manner, and the Breton was a self-confessed savage.

"This one is J'Inji," the Khajiit said, a brief slip into in the slave-speak he had once spoken in. Unlike the Breton, he did not give out any other details about himself. They knew he was a thief, and that was all they needed to know.

As the Nord spoke, J'Inji nimbly hopped out of the chair, adjusting his bow and quiver to sit more easily against his back.

When the Redguard openly admitted to being a member of the Legion, J'Inji winced slightly. His organization had had a scraqe or two with them. Nonetheless, the Redguard echoed many of his own current opinions, so he made no issue out of it. If they had intended to arrest him here, they would have done it already.

"I will help fight off the invaders--of course I will." J'Inji said. "But I make no promises for what I will do for this Council once they are driven off."

Even as he strode (somewhat reluctantly) to the Dunmer's side, he could feel his Light spell fading. The strain on his magicka eased, but he was once again invisible. He couldn't believe he had ever thought that state anything but the vilest of curses.

"You want me to see if I can make mischief on the enemy ship?" he asked the Dunmer. "Because that is a skill I am good at."

The sun was just over the horizon, setting in maybe a couple of hours. Theram was impatient with the rest of them, however, the Breton put on his ring and burst out of the room. Theram decided this was the time to act. "If you wish to fight, follow me." With this, Theram bounded through the halls of the place and into the streets of the Imperial City.

Alarms were sounded and people were seeking cover in the nearest building, the Akiviri Warship sent flaming, exploding bolts of destruction into the city. Already a building's roof had collapsed and was burning. The Blades from the Prison were amassed just inside the Waterfront when Theram arrived.

An Imperial Blade, with a cloak bearing the Imperial emblem, "I assume you're one of the 'special' soldiers that the council sent." Theram responded with a bit of disdain in his voice, "Yes I am, now, have you any news on the ship?" The blade looked at him sternly, "Its bombarding the hell out of us!"

Theram thought to himself for a minute. "Order all the archers up on the wall, light the sails up and try to hit the ballistas. That will moor them and then we can board them." The blade captain nodded. "We can do that, alright men, move it, we have a City to defend!"

Theram walked out to the Waterfront, looking at the huge Trireme-like galleon, crawling with Akiviri soldiers loading ballistas and firing arrows. He drew his Daedric Crescent and took cover behind a boulder.

"I hope the others get here." he said to himself.

OCC: omg sry guys I didn’t notice the messenger coming in. Well I have the excuse that my char is mad .

IC:

“Donljaks the name! Doljak Fernis!” The nord said those facts with a sudden tone, like he was being wakened of a light sleep, which he actually had. Doljak stood there for a while and tried to memorize what happened a few moments ago. A messenger? Attack? Blood? YES!

“If you are a Kittie, you are my friend!” he yelled, turning his head to the khajids direction, although he was already invisible again. Nice smell. He laughed. But then he got serious again and said:“If you like rabbits, you DIE! I bet those on the waterfront like rabbits! I am IN!”

Cheering, he got in such a sudden move up, that the stone desk rattled again. With a few sprints he was by Theram's side, smiling like a child that is about to get his present.

In the Water-Front, some of the troops holding back the invaders were somewhat shocked to see one of the invaders collapse dead on the ground every minute or so, there heads seemed to be twisted out of place suddenly.

The guards were aware that there was something invisible, aiding them... fast, very, and somewhat stronger then normal people. It would not however, be enough to push the troops back. They would need more infantry and power then what they currently had.

Sorry bout short post. I need to get some lseep. If you guys finish the fight tonight, Iridius will just be nowhere to be seen til I get out of school tommorow. I might post a little in the morning))

OOC: We will be stopping the thread for tonight and continue tomorrow, and umm Mr. Boom. You just took out a bunch of guys, save some for the rest of us will ya? . Anyways, all posting will stop now until tomorrow where we will resume the battle, because most of us are dead tired.

To be honest I haven't read all of this and well.. the idea sounds interesting enough. A tiny question though. Has the cowl of nocturnal been taken?

Sorry mistook this for an idea thread due to the OOC in the beginning.

Nope, the Cowl is Still up for grabs.

Here's a list of the things that have been taken:

Fists of Randagulf
Ebony Mail
Wabbajack
Warlock's Ring
Ring of Khajitii
Daedric Crescent
BiPolar Blade
Spell Breaker
Bow of Shadows
Skeleton Key

anything else you can find is yours. Oh, and, WE MAY BEGIN WHERE WE LEFT OFF!

OOC: Dont forget Spell Breaker!!

Also, its the (the names escape me and I dont feel like looking through the IL at the moment) monkey people (Tang Mo?) and the "tiger" people (Ka'Po'Tun?) that are invading right?



I thought you were calling me slow, eh?

Ah yes. Well I fully expected it, and it wouldn't have been so bad when I got back if there weren't still three people trying to post at once. Mayham I tells ya! :ahhh:

IC:

Raccal didn't hesitait once a bunch of people in the room ran out for the Waterfront, and he wasn't far behind. As he ran through the city he could see the panick already gripping the citizens as they ran around, seeking shelter and calling out for loved ones who were being pulled away by the tide of people. Raccal pulled a small rock from his pouch, knowing he would find plenty of ammunition down by the waterside, and switched it over to his left, the sling hanging from his right.

Coming down to the Waterfront, he could see the chaos was tenfold here, as fires burnt and missles smashed into the shacks and the walls, while soldiers tried to put the fires out. To his left, he saw the Dunmer, Theram, kneeling behind a boulder, and he saw a group of archers making their way up to the walls. Raccal could also see odd figures not far off, and as a citizen was cut down he didn't have to guess at who the enemy was here.

He sprinted closer to Theram, loading the rock into his sling at the same time, his training taking initiative to anything else his brain was telling him, as he ran for cover. He stopped short of the boulder, twirled the sling at chest height next to his body, letting it complete only one full rotation before relasing one end, the two inch projectile flying from the extension of his arm and striking an oncoming invader in the chest. He doubted he killed the thing, as slings were ineffective from the distance he was at, even less so against armor, but he was sure whatever he hit wouldn't be so keen to get back into the fray.

He joined THeram behind the rock, any bad opinions about the mer set aside in the time of need. "Friend." he nodded, kneeling down, but poking his head out.

"I think this may just be a landing party. A small force sent out to test our defences. Prod for weaknesses." he explained. He knew, because it was exactly what he did in the Legion. Prodded for weakness.

"It is their mistake though. They had surprise, and had they sent a larger force at once, we would have come to these docks only to find ruin." As he surveyed the situation, he realized he really didn't have much leadership skills, and no plans except his skirmishing training came to his mind, and this was no skirmish.

He looked at Theram, a grim look on his face. "Any plans, friend?"

OOC:



From what i know, you are right. I looked it up at the UESP and they are certanly ape like (tang mo) and khajid like (Ka'Po'Tun) people

Finally some action :hehe:

IC:

“Those monkeys and kitties all smell like rabbit crap!” Brawled the nord. He was outraged. How can kitties smell so bad?

He saw those creatures at the way to the waterfront, and decided not to attack them at first. However, noticing the attitude of the redguard and the dunmer with his strange shiny weapon changed his mind about those creatures. They were hostile! Doljak immediately reacted to this new situation.Reddy and Shiny are in trouble. Those kitties smell bad and evil, and the monkeys don’t look tasty at all! I gots to help them!

Grabbing the hilt of his powerful weapon, he stormed to the front. Seconds later he was covering both of his new companions yelling with a powerful warcry:

“FOR SHEOGORATH! BEGONE, MONKEYKITTIES!”

The dim blue light of his runes turned to bright blood red, as he crushed into his enemy. Or at least, what he thought the enemy was. He kicked two legionnaires out of his way, who landed roughly, but not seriously damaged on the floor, and then began smashing into a creature which seemed to look a bit like… A kitty! Bad Kitty!

As the great mass of muscle made his way through the battlefield, metal pieces of armor and weapons, dismembered limbs and blood sprayed everywhere, marking his trail.

OOC:

You also missed the Bow of Shadows and the Skeleton Key.

IC:

J'Inji's fur stood on end as the madman addressed him again, and he repressed the urge to hiss. Fantastic; he now considers me a friend. I'd rather befriend a rabid dreugh. Nonetheless, the Nord--Doljak--seemed to somehow be able to sense him. The Khajiit was, despite himself, grateful for that. He was sick of being acknowledged only when glowing or speaking.

The Khajiit lingered near the Dunmer--and therefore the Redguard and the Nord. He unstrapped the Bow of Shadows and pulled an arrow out of his quiver, fumbling for a second to find the head with his left hand so he could nock it. He didn't bother hiding behind the rock.

As Doljak barreled out into the fray, J'Inji provided him with cover fire. His silver arrows streaked through the air, but hit only a small number of the targets... proof of why the Khajiit typically hired people to fight for him. Most of the arrows thunked grandly into the dirt and surf, and one ended up in a dead Legionnaire's shoulder. Whoops.

In his defense, it was very difficult to aim an invisible bow.

He paused in his shooting and moved a step closer to the two fighters who hunkered behind the boulder. He pitched his voice so only the Redguard and Dunmer could hear him. "I like the 'board the svckers' idea. I suspect I could sniff out some useful things, if I could get to the captain's quarters."

"This is a blockading party, see what they're doing?" replied Theram, pointing at the ship which was effectively barricading the port-side of the Waterfront, and small boats carrying large wooden pikes being dug into the lake-bed, "They're trying to cut off Naval support from the Imperial City."

Theram popped his head up to get a better look at the ship, already Akiviri archers were returning fire. The sails and ballistas had been set ablaze, now was the time to attack. But the ship was a ways off from the shore, how were they to get to it? "If that damn Argonian mage were here we could walk across the water and board them!"

Theram looked at the J'Inji, "If you can swim, get the ship and into the captain's quarters, kill them silently and take control of the helm and cut the mooring line, then drive the boat into the shore." Then looking at Raccal, "If he can get that done, we and the Blades can board and kill all of them."

An arrow flew past Theram and dug into the leg of an Imperial Guard. Theram strung his bow and knocked an arrow, stood up and fired speaking a spell at the same time, the arrow flew and hit an Akiviri archer who burst into flames. Then Theram crouched back down.

Theram looked at the J'Inji once again, "Ready?"

Raccal noded his agreement on the plan, knowing it was going to be a major risk to the Khajiit, but knowing they were running out of time. He gave the Khajiit a pat on the shoulder, and stood up, though he kept his head low.

"We are gonna have to buy him some time then. If we loose the docks, then he'll be risking himself for nothing." he said, looking around at the fires burning around the area, and a group of Legionnaire's holding back the tides of Akaviri warriors.

"I think our Nord friend there would be best suited for helping the Legion men there, as would you Theram." he said, seeing the man's heavier armor. "But if you think you can be stealthy enough, I want you to come help me take out their officers, there," he pointed nextr to a wooden house where a monkey like form was shotuing out order while in relative saftey form arrows, "there," he pointed to another, not twenty feet away leading a small group of monkey-men up the beach, "and there." The last figure was more like a Khajiit, and he stood the tallest, as he pointed out orders with the most authority.

He looked around at the group. "Do you agree? I think if we take out the leaders, we can throw them into enough disarray for a few minutes, so we can make a counter attack, to drive them back onto the beach and give our friend here the time to do what is needed." he said, inclining his head to the Khajiit.

He hoped the plan worked, because from what he knew from fighting bandits and mauraders, that they generally gave up once their leader was dead. He didn't know how these beings operated, but from what he could tell they had a ranking system, though he couldn't judge how it worked, it seemed to exist as they followed the orders without delay.

Doljak was no strategic genius, but he knew enough about warfare to recognize he was just the distraction of what was really going on in the battle. It wasn’t because he just knew it, like a heavenly enlightenment, but because of sheer experience. He had always played the role of the “main attraction” in battles. In fact, he liked being the main attraction, because then, when suddenly news about an ambush or a sudden unexpected flank attack from his allies came to his ears, he rejoiced with utter pleasure. That’s what you get when you think I am the only problem around here… he always said to himself.

So the Nord did not know what J’Inji, Raccal and Theram had planned secretly, but he had almost the certain feeling, which could be called “a madman’s trust” that they were making themselves useful in battle…in their own ways. Everyone has its strengths and his weaknesses… I hope the kitty doesn’t get hurt, or else I will be very angry! He thought to himself.

An arrow plunging in his right shoulder took him back to reality. He tore it out without even twitching (the adrenaline helped him, and he was used to pain, anyways) and resumed his slaughtering. Monkey after monkey fell to his knees. He killed them without thinking twice, released them from their mortal pain and used their corpses as shields or simply to throw them to their allies. His insane laughing, his screaming, his tearing limbs apart and biting heads off, all these abilities he was REALLY good at, showed themselves at this moment of battle. He was a true avatar of war: Destructive, mad, meaningless hatred, eagerness to kill, to see blood and to see his enemies flee in panic. Acting as an intimidating bastion of muscle and insanity he slowly but surely drove off his opponents, who did not seem to know where his weak points were.

I hope, my fellow kitty, my fellow reddy, my fellow shiny, my lady and my doggy, I hope you are having as much fun as I have. I hope you see me as I now, In my true, glorious form, and , what I most hope… Is that you better “KILL THOSE ARCHERKITTIES , BY THE LOVE OF SHEOGORATH!” he screamed out with his powerful voice.

His opponents quickly understood where his weak point was: Missiles. Due to his big body structure, he took nearly most of the arrows that were thrown. That was good and bad at the same time. He was slowly losing his control over his sanity, due to the fact that pain was the trigger to his madness. He couldn’t resist too much time with the archers continuous attack. The good thing was that he served as a human shield to the legionnaires, who could now easily press forward .

Do something, or I’ll die, fellow Kittielovers…

The Khajiit's tail twitched anxiously at what the Dunmer--Theram--was asking him to do. Sneaking aboard, he could do. If he was anything, he was a very good sneak. However, he was less than confident about his ability to actually take out anyone once aboard. He was barely proficient with his bow, and the Daedric Curse did not allow him to wield anything else.

But it seemed like a far better plan that what he had been trying to do. He was struck by how out-classed he was when it came to matters of war. These two were able to anolyze the chaotic battlefield the way J'Inji anolyzed accounting reports; J'Inji had the best chance of survival if he followed orders. At least his confidence in their competence was bolstered by this short conversation.

He nodded his agreement, even though they couldn't see it. "I will waste no time, then. When next you hear from me, I will be able to add 'piracy' to my substantial criminal record." Then, with a patter of feet and a small cloud of kicked-up sand, he was gone.

He ran impossibly fast along the Waterfront, his magically-enhanced sprint equalling that of an average horse. He ducked under a swinging hammer and leapt over a pair of corpses (both Akaviri) as he ran for the docks. It only took a moment to spot what he needed: a thin 100-meter rope, coiled like a drowsy snake upon the deck of a docked merchant vessel. He picked it up, and magic shimmered along its length, radiating from the spot his hand touched. In the shimmer's wake was nothing: it was turning invisible, just like everything else he touched. The Khajiit grinned triumphantly

"We will see, Nocturnal, how far this invisibility of yours extends."

He jetted off again, this time winding through the fighting toward the Waterfront's wall. He brushed against Legion archers as he sprinted up the stone steps along the inner side. A moment later, he was panting on top of the wall, able to take in the scene with a rather unnerving view.

From his view, he could still see the boulder they had been hiding behind a moment before. Strange Akaviri ape-men and unnervingly familiar cat shapes whirled below, battling armored forms. Some Waterfronters could still be seen scurrying away or taking cover under docks and behind stacks of crates. Worst of all was the warship, its mast ablaze in the dying light,. Its crow's nest burned about 70 meters from J'Inji's nose.

He got his bearings a moment later, forcing his resolve back into line. He uncoiled the rope and laid it along the top of the wall, then tied one end to an arrow. The other end, he kept wrapped around his right wrist, just so it would keep touching him.

Swim. Pah.

With more care than he did much of anything, he lined up his shot. He'd done this particular trick before, so knew that the weight would throw off every calculation J'Inji could make on how to shoot the arrow. Fortunately, J'Inji wasn't that good a shot anyway. Also fortunately, a warship was a very big target to hit.

He loosed the arrow into the abyss, silently praying.

Either luck was on his side, or the powers-that-be figured they owed him one, because when he reeled in the rope, he felt the tug of resistance in the direction of the ship. Even better, the entire rope was still invisible!

J'Inji tied the other end of the rope to a flagpole, careful never to stop touching it, in case cutting the enchantment made it impossible for it to resume. Then, he swung down to hang from it by his hands, twisted at the waist so that he could cross his ankles above the rope behind him--securing him to the invisible rope--and started putting one hand in front of the other. He tipped his head to watch the warship looming closer and closer.

He could do this. In a minute's time, he would be close enough to pirate the ship and maybe do something about the crew. He had confidence that he would be able to do that much with no difficulty.

Forget stealing Daedric Artifacts; he was about to net an Akaviri Warship. A pity it wouldn't fit on his wall.

In an instant, J'Inji was off to follow the plan that Raccal and Theram had set up. Then Reccal pointed out the fight ensuing on the waterfront docks and in between the shacks. The officers of the Akiviri troops were in sight, and the two men could get to them with relative ease. But on the other hand, Theram could turn the tide of the fight easily with Raccal's help.

"We go for the officers, then we drive the others to the water's edge and kill them." Without a second glance, Theram bounded over the boulder and landed in a crouching position, drawing his Daedric Crescent. "B'vek!" shouted Theram to one of the officers on top of a shack roof, a monkey looking creature, clad in red armor that was similar to that of the blades.

The thing let out a screeching sentence in a foreign language and jumped off the roof, drawing a katana. Dunmer and Tang'Mo circled each other, and then charged. The monkey tried to cleave Theram, but he brought up the Crescent just in time to deflect it and then holding the blade like a backwards bow, Theram brought it down on the Tang'Mo's back, cutting clean through its lungs and heart.

It stumbled and spat blood, Theram kicked it aside. He turned around just as an arrow hit him in the chest, but it snapped against the Ebony Mail. The archer was frantically reloading a large crossbow. Theram pulled the tanto he carried in his vambrace and threw it at the archer, hitting it in the chest.

"Raccal, come on, we have enemies that need killing!" and Theram ducked behind a barrel as a barrage of arrows came flying into the area.

Raccal watched as Theram sped off suddenly towards one of the marked officers, and Raccal scrambled up to drag him back. "I meant silently kill them!" he cried in disdain, as the mer was already in combat with the monkey-like officer, and he had to admit the Dunmer was a skilled fighter, moving with grace that told of much use with the blade.

Raccal sighed, and moved off silently, knowing their fighting styles differed to much to be qable to work in cohesion, but they knew who they were after, and so Raccal set out for the second ape-man, seeing him standing on a small rock, making a sound that seemed like laughter as he watched his men swarm over a group of helpless citizens.

Raccal picked a rather large rock off the ground, and loaded it into his sling, gripping it tightly as he moved through the rather long grass in a crocuh, as he drew closer. About twenty feet away he stopped, made sure he was unseen and stood up, rotating the sling once before throwing the rock at the officer. As soon as he threw he was off running, using speed that was necessary during his time as a Skirmisher, and crossing the ground lightly, hooking his sling around his shield arm while drawing his stabbing spear.

The rock struck the monkey in the ribs and blasted him from the rock, though it was up in a flash of speed and agility that Raccal rarely saw in the Legion. The armor it wore was almost identical to the Blades, and it removed a large, two handed Katana from his back, holwed a blood curling screech and charged straight at the Redguard.

Raccal had to dive to his right, as he was unprepared for the things ability to cover the distance so quickly, and he heard the razor-edged blade slice through the grass with ease, inches from his ear. If the grass hadn't been so long, it would have meant his death, but in the instant his opponent stood still searching for him, he was up on his feet, spear up and ready.

He didn't have time for a drawn out fight, and he knew the fine weapon would slice through him like he was butter, so he turned and sprinted for the beach, diving into a rocky area, knowing his enemy was behind him. He ducked a horizontal slash and heard the blade ring out as it connected with the rock, and Raccal wasted no time in driving the spear into the monkies gut, feeling the warm blood wash over his hands as the thing dropped and started convulsing in its death throes.

He wasn't without injury however, as the dive had twisted his shield arm, and his shoulder ached, but the adrenaline was rushing through him now, and he shook it off, running back for the main fight to find Theram and get to the last officer.

"Theram!!" he shouted, blocking a bloq from a wicked looking axe, and wacking the attacker in the face with the butt-end of his spear before bashing its head with his shield.

"Theram!" he shouted again.


OOC: Must go eat now.

ooc: Man, this looks good. Would love to get in on this with a sort of barbarian nord character. Looks like Volendrung hasn't been taken...hmm. Could anyone give me a summary of what's gone on so far?

OOC: @ Alexei_K, Well basically, we all made acquaintances in the White Gold Tower, and now the Waterfront is being overrun by Akiviri Troops, we're trying to fend them off and kill them. You're very welcome to join, but an enraged barbarian already exists in the RP, and Volendrung is more of an Orcish weapon, I think it would be [censored] if you made a savage Orc wielding the Hammer of his Daedric deity. Send me your Char Sheet and I shall evaluate.

IC:

Theram was lost in his bloodlust, a disorder brought on him by the Crescent Blade. He heard Raccal yell to him, he looked banged up but was still fighting, and then Raccal Pointed to the large Ka'Po'Tun, cutting down men like grass and barking orders. Theram knew what he had to do. With lighting speed the Dunmer dashed into battle, spinning like deadly saw blade and cutting down five Akiviri warriors.

A particularly large monkey came at him with a broadsword, Theram spun and dodged the attempted cleave, then ramming one blade into the bent over Akiviri warrior. Theram slid the corpse off, and what he was about to do, some may consider a bad idea. He put his Crescent Blade away on his back, picked up the corpse, and with all his might threw it at the Ka'Po'Tun general.

It knocked him over, but he got up, drawing two beautiful golden katanas, "I know your kind! Dunmer, sickly Ashland filth! Die, you and all your race are dead!" Theram drew his blade, "And your wives will have your bodies given to them, by the tides of the ocean once we throw your armies into the great sea."

With this, the two warriors charged. The Akiviri general swiped his blades towards Theram, which were easily deflected thanks to the double bladed weapon Theram held. But in a quick motion, the general stabbed Theram in the briast... the katana snapped like a twig, the terrified general looked up just as Theram decapitated him.

Pulling of his Ordinator Helmet, Theram bent over and picked up the head of the fallen officer, "Akivir will not prevail!" and he threw it in the ranks of the Akiviri soldiers.

Now putting his helmet back on, Theram rushed to the aid of Raccal, "Are you alright?" said Theram, as another arrow snapped on his back. "The officers are dead, pray to Azura this works."

Six arrows protruded from Doljaks upper back and shoulders, two more at his chest and the last one was in his right thigh. The nord was breathing with noticeable difficulty. The akaviri archers achieved their goal of stopping the killing frenzy the Sheogorath follower did. He was severely wounded and couldn’t almost sustain himself. He needed help. Luckily enough, the first wave of melee akavir warriors were slain by him, so that the imperial legionnaires could protect him with a shieldwall.

One, two, three, Sheogorad likes pee; four, five, six, Sheogorad likes pigs; seven, eight, nine, Sheogorad feels fine! He counted each arrow as he pulled it out with sudden movements.

The muscle monster couldn’t barely stand for some time. Blood was flowing out of his body, like little fountains. With one last effort, the Nord fell on his knees on a prayer position and said: “Sheogorad, I pray to you as I always pray when I need you, because I know you will come to my aid. I am your son. You are my father. Let me live, to carry on the glory of you wisdom! I want to share… to share….” He started laughing hysterically. He knew what to do. His father has spoken to him, so he thought.

Doljak, the madman, looked at his blade like a lover would look at his lady. He kissed de sharp point and licked the akavir-blood that tainted the mysterious shine of his weapon. He knew what to do. He took the claymore by the hilt, in a reversed way, pointing at himself, towards his chest, just right under his lungs, and plunged it deeply into himself, to an extend that he nearly impaled himself. The effect of his weapon was what kept him alive now.

The nord got up, slowly but steady, and took the blade out. The runes of his body glowed more than ever. An aura if madness was emanating through his body. Having injured himself with the weapon, the BiPolar blade, he felt the true power of madness: The convenience of cheating sanity, common sense and reality itself; seeing things on its own way…

“I am not wounded” he murmured one time after another, increasingly louder, ending with another hysterical, but not desperate, even rather victorious laugh. He looked and watched. You can see so many things when you are mad, you just have to know which are useful - he turned his head towards the direction of the dunmer and the redguard fighting for their lives, and then towards the akavir battleship- and which are NOT useful. At this point he looked at the bipolar blade, which showed a bizarre and blurred reflection of himself, grinning at his own face.

As the legionnaires kept moving onward, due to the poor melee resistance, the nord looked around to make himself useful. There were still lots of akavir pouring out of the ship, and there were surely still leaders around here, he just had to find them.

First, let me help reddy and shiny

He rushed forward, as quick as a giant muscle nord could, to raccal and Theram. Looking at the scenery, the madman cried out jovially: “Well done shiny, well done reddy! Now Let’s get useful and slay some more monkey and smelly kitties!”

OOC: yeh, sorry but the nord barbarian is already taken :shrug: , I think we would overdo this if we put more bloodlusty barbarians into this wonderful enough RPG

ooc: I have an idea for him, it's just picking the artifact that's proving difficult. He's supposed to be this like...very natural warrior. Not the HULK SMASH type. More of a soldier, a level planner who's barbarian roots give him a keen sense of the world around him and a sort of natural code of honor. Think...you ever see Andromeda? Tyr Anasazi, of sorts. Bit of a bastard, bit of an attitude but a noble warrior at core. Certainly not bloodthirsty or enraged. Barbarian does not ALWAYS mean crazy, killer tank guys.

A little help on the artifact would be really appreciated.

Raccal saw the Dunmer rush at the tiger man, and knew he wanted him for himself. Raccal conceded the officer to him, and instead turned back for the main group of Legionnaire's where the large Nord was standing nearby. He didn't look well, but Raccal couldn't get closer as a monkey warrior rushed him with a slender short sword and a screech.

Raccal blocked the first blow with his shield, and drove his spear for the monkey's chest, but the attack was slow and off balance and easily deflected. However, Raccal knew the wooden spear shaft wouldn't hold up against many blows, so he retracted it and swung his shield out, brushing the attacker off balance, and letting the Redguard get his feet under him.

He stabbed out quickly, first going high, retracting, then stabbing low for the groin. As anticipated, a deflecting blow came in to intercept, but Raccal simply changed direction mid path, angling it down and lettinmg it scraqe the dirt. His shield meanwhile came around and with a crack, the monkey man dropped to the ground, blood pouring from the crushed skull.

Raccal wasted no time in looting the corpse, taking the short balde and tucking it into his belt before tearing off to the Legionnaire's. Looking uo at the Nord he felt rather bad. "Are you okay?" he shouted, more to be polite than anything for he turned away in an instant as Theram questioned if he was alright.

"I'm fine, and good job on the kill. But nows not the time for breaking out the ale. Not yet anyways." he said with a wink, before turning to regard the soldiers. There were twenty-six of them, all armed with their swords and some without shields. He turned to Theram. "If you don't mind." he said simply before going full steam into his orders, the Legion side of him kicking in again.

"You," he said looking at a soldier armed only with his dirk, "get up to the archers. Tell 'em to give fire on any more landing ships that come this way, as well as covering our flanks when we are on the beach. Cause our numbers ain't gonna allow us to take a large chunk of it." he said, watching as the man sprinted off.

"The rest of you, we're taking the beach, and we are gonna hold it for a while, so stick close, and punch through the middle of 'em. Once there, form up, open-ended box, spread outwards, but not more than twenty feet, got it?" he ordered. The order was simple, as was his general plan. Hit the beach and wedge the enemy apart into two main bodies. From there, they would form a defensive line on the right and the left, like a box with a top or bottom, and would slowly push outwards, opening a small section of beach area.

He turned to the large Nord. "My large friend, your the tip of the spear going in. Meanbing I want you right at the front to break the bastards open, and when we start holding the area, I need you at the most desperate spots so listen closely for my call, got it?" he said, aptting the large man on the ribs, as his shoulder was a little high.

"Theram, I want you taking the left side, while I take the right. Fight defensively, and call our firend here if needed, do you agree.?" he asked, wanting the mers opinion.

"I'm pulling this outta my ass here, so if you have something better tell me! But hurry!" he said, noting the confused enemies were attempting to regain order, whilst arrows and pockets of pinned soldiers cut them down.


OOC: I didn't know exactly how many Legionnaire's there were so I just improvised and kept it small. Tell me if its too much or too little.

@Alexei_K, is he a finesse blade fighter? Goldbrand perhaps? Or is he a more "barbarian" type with smashing? Mace of Molag Bal?

ooc: I think a sword is a little too technical for him...but maybe I'm thinking in the wrong direction. Maybe it doesn't need to be a weapon. Savior's Hide maybe? It could fit his very nature oriented personality....

When J'Inji was close enough to the warship to lick the wood, he uncrossed his ankles, then swung his legs up and around, flipping himself to sit somewhat precariously on top of the rope.

The arrow had, indeed, hit the hull of the warship... about ten feet below the deck. Through the wood, he could feel the patterings of many feet and some mild grinding. The scent of smoke was strong here, and arrows occasionally soared over his head in both directions.

J'Inji rubbed his hands together, then roughly shoved his claws into the wood above his head. He used them to steady himself as he rose to his feet on the rope. His feet slipped a little, and he quickly righted them again. He was certainly agile, but this was a feat of acrobatics that was at the very edge of his abilities. After taking a moment to find the best balance possible, he pulled his claws out of the hull and stretched up. Reaching as far up as he could, the tips of his fingers brushed the top of the rail.

It would have to do.

He took a breath to steel himself, slowly crouching back down and coiling his legs for a jump. Then, he burst upward, slammed his claws into the top of the railing, and vaulted himself onto the ship.

As soon as his feet left it, the rope and silver arrow shivered into view.

The ship was long and flat, shaped like no vessel J'Inji had ever seen in Tamriel waters. It had one huge sail--currently on fire--and one smaller one in front. There were odd little curls on both sides of the ship, with a stairway leading down into the deck on each end. The Akaviri monkey-like creatures scurried along the decks, toting water buckets to burning ballistas, gathering medical supples, and generally manning the ship in a way J'Inji supposed the apes were suited to do. Fewer, but more imposing, were the cat-people of Akavir... who J'Inji could now see were somewhat larger than the average Khajiit.

He was secure enough with himself to admit that he found them intimidating.

A Tang Mo jostled against him in the bustle, but the Khajiit didn't notice as he gathered his bearings. The air here stank with smoke, the scent pooling in the back of his throat and making him want to cough.

He located the mooring lines--there was one on either side of the ship, leading down into the water to what J'Inji could only assume was some sort of anchor. He just needed something to cut the lines with. He deftly plucked a belt knife from a passing Tang Mo, only to instantly drop it with a clang and a muffled curse as his hand burned.

Unfortunately, that did not go unnoticed.

The Tang Mo he had just pickpocketed turned to stare at the apparent empty space J'Inji occupied. Then, it started screeching in a foreign language, pointing and gestulating, and other nearby crew members began turning toward it.

J'Inji whirled and ran, ducking between a pair of massive Ka Po' Tun to get out of the immediate area. The Akaviri began looking around alertly, some drawing swords and taking experimental swipes at the spot J'Inji had just left.

The ropes! He needed to untie the ropes!

Yeah, that would go unnoticed. By the time he figured out all those complex knots, he'd be one skewered kitty. He needed something to cut it... but he couldn't wield any weapons! Damned Nocturnal!

A ballista three feet away suddenly gave in to the damage done by fire, collapsing in a burst of cinders.

Wait, there were other ways to break a rope!

The Khajiit inched toward the burning ballista, instinctually shielding his face from the heat. He was going to have quite a few singed hairs when this was done. Then, he crept in (as if sneaking up on the fire would keep it from burning him) and grabbed a piece of burning wood. He bore it like a torch, invisibility creeping up the broken wood... but not vanishing the sight of the fire.

He broke into a run toward the nearest mooring line, even as a giant, heavily scarred black feline pointed toward the floating flame. J'Inji swiped the fire against the line, and the thick rope caught fire. As the black cat drew a katana as tall as J'Inji and took a ponderous swipe, J'Inji ducked and ran for the other line. It caught fire just as he heard the first snap.

Yes!

Then, the armored fist of an ape-man hit him across the shoulderblades, and he went sprawling loudly to the deck. The makeshift torch spun somewhere off to one side. A circle of Akaviri crewmen had surrounded him with weapons drawn. They couldn't see him, true, but they weren't stupid, either.

J'Inji felt a thrill of terror seep through him as they closed ranks around him, their alien forms looming against the backdrop of the burning sail He fought to catch his breath quietly. He couldn't seem to find his feet, but that didn't stop him from whipping out a bow and nocking an arrow. Time seemed to pause there for a moment, as if it was giving J'Inji time to repent for his sins before his untimely death.

Yeah, right.

The moment was broken by a distinct snapping sound as the second mooring line broke, distracting some of the Akaviri. J'Inji took his chance to loose an arrow at the face of the Tang Mo who had hit him--who was also, incidentally, between the Khajiit and the helm. J'Inji was admittedly not a very good shot... but even a novice could hit a target at point-blank range. The monkey-man went down, and the Khajiit took to his feet again.

He dashed across the ship, not so much reaching the helm as running into it. He grabbed onto the wheel and threw himself in one direction against it. The rudder shuddered underneath the ship, even as the sails flapped feebly.

Then the big black Ka Po' Tun with lots of scars loped into his vision, an instant before its huge katana slammed into the helm. J'Inji managed to twist to the side to avoid the initial slash, but didn't anticipate the follow-up swipe that dug well into his ribcage on his left side.

J'Inji shrieked, throwing himself back against the wheel. The Ka Po' Tun gave something akin to a grin and yanked the blade out, then moved in for another slash. J'Inji rolled backwards over the wheel, using it as a shield from the massive cat's sword. The maneuver lit his side up with agony, and he looked down to notice that his blood was dripping all over the helm.

Interesting. His blood wasn't invisible, once it left his body. That just didn't seem fair.

The warship was shuddering and turning under them, moving ponderously toward the pier. The Ka Po' Tun moved to correct its course, but J'Inji growled and kicked the Akaviri away with a handstand-kick.

Ow ow ow ow ow. Right... he was wounded.

He yanked the helm back to ensure that it would crash into some point of the Waterfront, though he was not very picky where it ended up. he dodged another swipe from the giant black cat, then grabbed the things arms and used all his weight to maneuver the bulky arms around (they were easily the size of his thighs!) and shove the sword through the spokes. The Ka Po' Tun tried to pull it out again, but J'Inji whipped out an arrow and plunged it into the big cat's eye, not even bothering with his bow. The helm was successfully jambed--the plan would go through.

Then another blade--this time a Tang Mo's--bit into his leg, reminding him that he was still surrounded by enemies, and, oh yeah, he was wounded.

The new enemy seemed to be following the scent of his blood, because it easily followed as J'Inji dodged away. The Khajiit backed away continuously, feeling the strength seep out of him through his side wound. He did not have the constitution for this.

Then, he jumped backwards, away from a powerful sideswipe, and ended up overcompensating, sending himself clear back over the siderail.

A moment later, Lake Rumare swallowed him up. The only thing to indicate he was there was a burst of bubbles and a slight red tinge in the water.

“Aye Sir!”, answered the Nord, imitating the legionnaires following orders. He was covered in blood, and his runes turned dim blue again, but the wounds he had were regenerating slowly. It seemed that the runes were helping him indeed, or at least he gave the impression of recovering himself.

Doljak took some venison out of his bag attached to his loincloth and ate it raw. “So, I kill, you tell me what to kill, right? And after that, we can go all back to the council chambers to get some fine moonsugar!” he yelled again, the raw venison seemed to give him his strength back…

With a sudden move, the Nord turned his head to the ships direction and said in complete seriousness while sniffing: “Something is wrong with my kitty! I don’t like it. Smells really bad. Dead bad.”


OOC: First off, sry 4 short post, but I dont knwo about you, i live in spain, and right now its 5:30 in the mornin, I need some sleep. So second, sry but i need 2 go.

@ Alexei: Have you considered taking Helm of Oreyn Bearclaw? seems to have Fortify Agility and Endurance boost and good history about hunters...