SEND ALL CHARACTER SHEETS TO ME AND AWAIT ANY INDICATION THAT YOU'RE IN THE RP BEFORE YOU POST. Thankyou.

This Rp is a story run adventure Rp which means you will only Rp NPC's that effect your character such as: Attackers, traders, friends, etc, etc but nothing else. The RP and events within will be lead by my character which will be the leader of the group, if you wish for sidequests and such, you are more than welcome to bring them up in RP.

Rules
The usual list:

Only I may create a new thread.
Follow my character sheet.
Don't move time along.
Don't character control without the persons permission.
Don't go all uber please - I will tell you whether or not you've broken this rule - Just be realistic.
I would love it if you could speak in a language we all understand.
Keep it real.
Romance is fine, I don't care quite how far you go, but ofcourse.. six scenes aren't allowed by forum rules so.. No explicit stuff, please?
No enchanted weapons/armour/clothing/etc
PM all your character sheets to me.
OOC chat is to be kept at a minimum.

A few pointers.

In this RP, you start off as a prisoner, you have nothing but the cold rags on your back, you're weak and hungry, your body is bruised and in some cases, damaged. You have seen horrific things in the last few weeks/months of capture. You all start in the same cell room, Larry Wall, the most talkative of them keeps you company, tells stories of the warm sands of Anvil and the tall trees of Skingrad. Home.

From there, you are rescued and follow the group to unravel the mysteries behind these strange abductions and, as a member of the blades, you try to unite Cyrodiil under the rule of Ocato.

The character sheet

Name: (Full name)
Nickname: (Yeah.. What you would rather be called: Note! No one will call you this unless you tell them that that's your name)
Race: (Don't go all complicated on me, stick to the races seen in Morrowind.)
six: (No 'Yes please')
Age:

What your character is good at: (AKA, ingame and noningame skills.)

Appearence: (How pretty is your character?)
Hair: (Length/colour/style)
Height: (In feet/cm...)
Eyes:
Scars/Tattoo's:

Weapons: For the moment: None.
Armour: For the moment: None
Clothing: Thin jail rags.
Inventory: Nada, maybe some mouldy bread? Or the rat you finally killed.

Personality:

Misc:

PM ALL CHARACTER SHEETS TO MEEEEEE


***

It is the 12 year in the fourth era. Tamriel, is in chaos. Locally, Cyrodiil has sealed it's borders and due to no emperor, each town vies for control. The land stands broken and people fear that there will be no end to it. Ocato, chancellor of Cyrodiil; has used his powers to control the land through military efforts, to try and stem the violance that has spread and bring unity to the once great province. These efforts have only pushed the large cities further away from Ocatos rule, civil war is now more than a rumour.

The rest of Tamriel is not fairing so well either. Vvardenfell is suffering a civil war, Skyriim is being invaded by the western nation of High Rock and Hammerfell seeks war with Somerset isle. Valenwood, Elswyr and Black Marsh are currently the most stable nations, while they still suffer from the Oblivion Crisis, their people are still united and content to just rebuild their provinces back to full strength.

With all this commotion, violance and terror - It comes as no surprise that people would not notice a few stolen men and women. Taken, from their homes in Cyrodiil and brought to castles located around Skyriim, these prisoners' fate is surrounded by mystery. The blades, the most secretive force in Cyrodiil, aims to find out more, sending informants and raiding parties into Skyriim to retrieve these prisoners and find out, just what is going on.

***

This is where the RP begins (4E year: 12), you have been captured, from where and how is up to you. But a group of nords decided you looked pretty and took you. You find yourself in a freezing cold circular room, this room is filled with individual cells where other people, dressed in rags like you, huddle to the walls for warmth. You're fed irregularly, and your nordic guards toture you without reason. The few glimpses of the outside world shows nothing but a snowy tundra, a desolate place which chills your fragile bones. Yet, unlike the other prisoners, your mind stays strong and focused. In the night, you hear a fellow prisoner in the same room as yourself, talk of escape, he mentions his names as Larry Wall, a farmer from Anvil. The other prisoners mock him, but, beyond your thin, cold walls, the blades are preparing to act.

***

The objective of this Rp is to live long enough to find out why they're taking prisoners, stop them from their evil ways and unite Cyrodiil and put an end to Tamriels problems. Think that's too much? Pfft, all in a days work for The Blades.

It is a time of great crisis, our own brothers and sisters turn against each other while we watch our neighbours do the same. If the daedras aim was to cause chaos well, they have succeeded in a way that is far more dangerous than Dagons invasion ever could have been. I plead to you, men and women of Cyrodiil, unite under the banner, defend this great nation and bring it to glory!

Ocato, Chancellor of Cyrodiil at his emergency conference.

***

I will allow you all some time to post before the rescue begins, that way we can all get to know one another and begin preparation for the rescue. Good luck!

***

Opening Post NOTE: My character is not Larry

"Hey! Hey wake up! I thought I heard something!" Larry called out, the prisoner rose to his feet, his bruised knees buckled under the pressure but he gripped tightly against the metal bars of his cage. "Wake up guys! I think they're here!" He insisted, he stopped for a second, ears facing the ceiling. After a moment he began to laugh, at first it was joyous, but it quickly evolved into a coughing fit. "I knew it.. I.. I told you they'd come." he panted, his words bounced off of the quiet walls.

The wind rushing through the cell windows drowned out any sound of the oustide world, but, like a whisper - The clash of metal hitting metal became evident. "Hah!" He shouted, "I knew it! Those bastards are all going to die! Hahahahaha! Come on then you nordic swine! Try and win when we're not so defenseless!" Blood rushed through Larry's mind at the thought of escape and revenge while blood lust tickled his mind as he jumped onto the metal bars and tried to pull them down. "Come on you nordic swine! Come on!"

Character Sheets

Mine - Gravious Cussler - Imperial - Male

Gortock - Marcus Precious - Imperial - Male

Dagoth_Gojira - Vanas - Dark Elf - Male

Trannigan - Arwayn Duskmere - Bosmer - Female

Queen of Giant Rats - Ma'Kahdar - Khajiit - Female

Gavril - DoNashi - Khajiit - Male

Ctoagu - Kai-Lira - Argonian - Female

Varus - Raime Baudoin - Redguard - Female

Shadow 666 - Nina Othelu - Imperial - Female

Broken-Scale - Rahm Decimus(Barrett) - Imperial - Male

Events

Thread 1
The characters start in a circular room full of single cells. The blades are mounting their rescue.

The Irony.. All the time i have been on the run from the law.. and here i am rotting in this box because of bad luck.. This thought had been running continuously through the woman's head over the past few days.. What seemed to have been a quick and easy way to keep from the legion's eyes, had turned into a month of treatment worse than the death sentence that would have been given to her if she was caught by the law.

But within the first few weeks, Nina Othelu had made it clear that she was no peasant.. Many of the men guarding the prisoners had died hen they had tried to do the things to her that had been done to so many others.. But then the food stopped coming. Even though the guards knew she had weakened, none had wanted to go into the same room as the imperial asassin, for they knew what had happened when the guard before them had tried to do anything. His screams were still etched into their skulls. Whoever this woman was they did not want to be another corpse.

Locked inside a cell used to hold vampires (after all the count did have occassional 'guests'), one that was lined with silver and a half metre of thick steel surrounding the room, not even one with her skills could ever hope to escape. However if they had wished to break her will they would have to try harder.

No matter.. I have known Death's embrace my entire life, It is only a matter of time before i join her.. But her thoughts of death as she began to lose consciousness were to be cut short when an obnoxious man by the name of Larry began yelling for them all to wake up. He had it in his head that they were going to be rescued and throught the time she had been imprisoned in the cell, she had thought him insane (well more insane than her) and the woman had scoffed at his claims.

But now hearing the sound of battle, the thoughts of irony returned to her. Perhaps they did not know who she was.. if so she may have a chance of escape yet. A grin came to the fammished face, her dirty black hair covering part of her face as well as the tatoo that might prevent her to be rescued with the rest. With her hands and feet bound so she could not move, Illusion magic was out of the question.

Having a clear view of the entrance, whoever was coming in to rescue them she would be able to see and hope that these men were better hosts.

She was sitting at a table, scoring her claws down the wood. The shack was old, and not exactly luxurious, but it was warm and safe. The Khajiit examined her claws and the lines scratched into the wood. Seeming to be satisfied she turned to walk closer to the fire...

Ma’Kahdar woke up with an aching head. As soon as she woke, it was obvious she had accidently rolled into one of the walls of her cell when she tried to go closer to the fire in her dream. She stood up and moved to the bars of the cell, looking to see if anyone had noticed her, but they all seemed to be looking at someone else.

“I knew it..I..I told you they’d come” he spluttered.

Who? Who’s coming? He seems happy, but he also seems crazy. I guess I should wait and see.

Outside the sound of metal clashing against metal became louder, a beating drum, a whole orchestra filled with cries of battle. She could smell a faint hint of blood, but wasn’t sure if it was from the battle, or one of her cell mates. A shiver ran through her, part fear and part cold. She supposed she should really prepare to fight, but the sporadic schedule of meals had left her as weak as a kit.

Sitting down, she looked around the circle of cells, to see other’s reactions. The man who had first spoken seemed to be trying to pull down the bars, and was yelling for the Nords to have captured them. He seemed to suddenly think he could beat them, despite being ill feed for some weeks now. An Imperial woman, the one who killed some of the guards, who was about a quarter of the circle away was actually possibly displaying some emotion for once, although it could just be a trick of the light.

I should try and get a clearer view.

Moving to the edge of her cell the Khajiit could now see about half the entrance. By instinct her claws came out, and adrenaline pumped into her veins, banishing the cold and hunger for now. Felling stronger, she dropped into a fighting stance, eyes fixed on the entrance. Pricking her ears, she was waiting for the noise that would signal movement towards the prison.

using his right claw DoNashi scratched another small stripe down the wall next to the twenty-seven others.

One for each day I have been stuck here. almost no food nor water. At least my time living in the dessert prepared me to live with little food or water.

While he was counting the days again, the man called Larry spoke out in joy: “I knew it.. I.. I knew they’d come! We’re saved!”

DoNashi couldn’t keep it together anymore. He started laughing with the man’s optimistic thoughts.

“then I hope your rescuers get here before our capturers. ‘Cause if they don’t, and our capturers get here first and realize it’s a losing battle they’ll surely kill us.” He mumbled through his laughing, and probably no one understood his words.

It was clear he was not the only one who heard words of Larry. He could see the beige khajiit ready herself for a fight. He shook his head. She stood no chance when they would come to kill them.

And I’m sure they’ll come to kill us. maybe i should throw her some of the food I saved.

The crazy woman also seemed to show a small sign of emotion when the man spoke about liberation or maybe it was the light tricking him.

Outside the battle went on, the sound of metal clashing against metal became louder. The fight got closer with the minute. He could hear the screams of men and women dying. The smell of blood reached him from afar.

Ignoring the sounds outside he turned around and went back to his own small piece of room at the darkest corner of his cell. He made up his mind about sharing his precious saved food.
Without anyone seeing it he pulled out some he had been saving up together with an unlucky rat he had captured when everyone was sleeping.

If only I had some skooma, it would be better than the smelly food I saved.

“hey psychic! Since you seemed to know someone would come to rescue us, maybe you also know where the guards keep their drink and food? They took some skooma from me and I would love to get it back.” he asked Larry.

Larry fell to the floor in a crumpled mess, his breathing was fast and heavy and his heart was beating furiously. “hey psychic! Since you seemed to know someone would come to rescue us, maybe you also know where the guards keep their drink and food? They took some skooma from me and I would love to get it back.” Called out a voice. Was it to me? he asked himself, the sounds of battle becoming louder.

"Skooma? Skooma?" He asked, he remembered a time in his youth when he had tasted the sweet drug. "The nords have taken everything! Everything!" Larry cried, pushing himself up where he pressed hard against the metal bars. "But they wont take our lives, no! Cyrodiil is great and strong, they wont break us.. They wont break me!" Through exhaustion Larry began to fall, "They've taken everything.." He mumbled as he clung to the cold hard stone floor. "They've taken everything..."

Gravious

Gravious jumped behind a large pile of barrels and knelt down for cover, "Sir, we can't hold the attack much longer." A worried voice commented, the captain turned to where it came from.
"Don't worry Pelan, just a few more minutes is all we'll need." He reassured, placing a hand on the flushed bosmer's shoulder. He looked at the mans' weapon, the katana had a thick coat of blood which had dripped onto the mans akaviri armour. "We're blades, remember - If anyone can win, it's us." He flashed the blade a smile, regripped his shield. "Come on, let's teach these nordic bastards who they're stealing from." Gravious turned to look over the barrels, the small courtyard which they'd fought their way into was littered with wooden barrels, carts and the occasional pile of logs. The actual castle was small compared to the ones they'd previously looked at but it was well built. "Pelan, lead your squad right, push forward, there's enough cover to protect you. I'll lead Molvar and Golun right, there looks to be a small entrance." He turned to the bosmer who was nodding intently. "Hold the courtyard, at all costs."

The bosmer gripped his sword tightly, "Alpha! Forward! Press the advantage!" He cried out and jumped over the barrels, a few arrows skitted past him but the majority missed, hitting hard against the brick wall. His place was taken by two blade archers, their fine bows twanged in Gravious' ear, distracting him as he tried to find both the archer Molvar and the orc Gorun. "Molvar! Gorun! To me!"

"You called Captain?" replied a deep gruff voice, Gravious didn't need to even look at the orc to know it was him. There was only one orc in his unit and he wouldn't have had it any other way for it was very difficult to control an orc while they go beserk.
"You and Molvar are with me, there's a side entrance to the right there, we're pushing through. You'll pull lead." The orc nodded, he smiled slightly and Gravious only imagined the sort of things he would be thinking about. "Do you see Molvar anywhere?" Gravious asked the orc while he glanced over the barrels. The situation hadn't changed, only now Pelan had attracted the large majority of the archers attention.

"I did sir, he went down, to the left there.. Pellius is attending to him." Stated one of the archers as he knelt down to restring his bow. "He took a nasty hit to the chest, but if anyone can get 'im, Pellius will."
"Blast!" Cried Gravious, but he turned to the orc and nodded. "Pelan!"
"Aye captain?!" Replied a voice that gravious recognised as a bosmer.
"I'm about to move, charge in 3!"
"Copy!"
3...
He looked over to the door and judged the distance.
2...
He inspected Gorun who grunted and was preparing himself to run.
1...
He hoped Pelan had heard him.
GO!
He jumped to his feet and sprinted, shield raised to hide his body and as he ran he held his sword scabbard to stop it from slapping his legs. He didn't have time to look behind him, but from the shouts of cyrodiilic, Pelan had charged and his men were moving forward. Nearly there.. He thought. An arrow hit the wall where had been but a second ago. Just a few more metres.. he judged. An axe crashed into a barrel infront of him, spilling warm brown ale over the soft snow.

He decided he was close enough and slid on his shins the rest of the way, managing to find cover between reinforced crates. Gorun was more dramatic and simply crashed into the brick wall. It's amazing the wall is still there. he thought to himself as he turned to the large orc. "Get betsy out, let's knock this door down." He quickly ordered, glancing briefly at the thick wooden door before looking at the direction they had come, sword ready and shield raised - Anyone that had followed them would die a swift death.

Gorun dropped his shield and mace and reached behind his back, slowly and with surprising ease he retrieved a large iron warhammer. "Stand back." He growled, Gravious agreed, he didn't fancy a splinter piercing his legs. The Orc began to count down up 3 to, raising the hammer a bit each time he spoke a number. At 3, the orc tensed his entire body and with the force of an entire ocean he smacked the hammer against the door which splintered and burst into million different bits. Gravious winced as he heard a scream from behind. Apparently a guard had been stationed behind, It certainly wasn't his best day.

Arwayn had been sitting on her bed in a meditative state. Her eyes were clothes and she made no noise while Larry first shouted of people being here to rescue them. It wasnt until the sounds of battle had been ringing outside that she had snapped back into consciousness, Arwayn quickly stood up then, ignoring her cell mates pvssyr and she rushed to one of the nearby windows, standing on her toes trying desperately to see what was happening.

After a minute of trying to get a good view, Arwayn gave up, and rushed up to the bars. She locked her eyes onto the doorway, waiting for the moment that anyone at all might step through. Larry was still babbling on while laying on the floor of his cell, and Arwayn let out a small sigh as she began to get the feeling that the people might not have been there to rescue them after all. It could easily just be a large band of marauders or something... she hopelessly thought to herself.

As the noises grew louder, Arwayn clenched tighter at the metal bars, until the skin on her knuckles were white and she could feel her jagged grown out nails poking against the bottoms of her palms. Whatever was happening out there she was hoping that the battle would present herself and the others the chance to finally get out of this place.

Lying on her back, Raime starred blankly at the ceiling. The stones beneath her were cold and uneven. A wet slime dripped down the wall to her left. Outside her cell, she could hear the other prisoners talking. One mentioned escape and rescue, but he was crazy.

No, Raime simply kept her eyes closed and focused on her thoughts. It had been nearly a month now since she was taken - she could still remember the exact moment. The Guild had deployed her to Bruma to investigate some local unrest at a tavern. Apparently some local drip at a bar had been accused of working with the Mythic Dawn. Cyrodiil was still reeling from the consequences of the Oblivion Crisis and anyone accused of participating in the Daedric invasion was seriously unpopular right now.

So there had been more than a few fights started in Bruma, all because of a few rumors about this one guy. Raime was supposed to take care of that. She never got to.

In the forest outside Bruma she had just been pitching camp. Her bedroll was laid out and a she was laboring to build a fire. Standing deadwood is easy to find in the forest near the city, but the cold can sometimes make it difficult to start a fire. She was just carving some tinder when, out of nowhere, a sickening impact rattled her ribcage and sent her reeling onto the ground. Recovering her senses, she took note of the arrow that had just lodged itself into her shoulder.

She barely had the time to register that she had been shot before the lights started going out. First everything was a haze. Then gravity flipped over and the world tumbled around itself. Then blackness. She woke up here, in this hell frozen over.

But it didn't matter. Raime was an experienced fighter. She had been a warrior all her life. Even with the terrible rations that her captors provided, she did everything in her power to stay strong. She kept her head clear. She reviewed her technique in her mind. One day, one day soon, she would have the opportunity she wanted and she would take one of the guards. Killing him, she would take his keys and weapons and break out of this place. She had it all planned out, she just needed the right opportunity.

But opportunity was hard to come by around here. The guards often came in groups of three or more. This was even more common after one of the other prisoners attacked, and possibly killed, one of the other guards that had come alone.

"Stupid Girl!" Raime shouted to nobody in particular. She hated that prisoner for ruining everyone's chances to escape. She should have capitalized better on her opportunity. If that had been me, we would all be free by now!

But Raime could hardly blame the woman. In fact, she applauded her for sticking up for herself. The rest of the prisoners were just content to be [censored] and tortured. Gods, thought Raime, what a world this is. Does nobody have any self respect? At least the girl has some pride, and more than a little skill. Too bad her planning hadn't kept pace with her actions.

The sound of distant sword clatter snapped Raime out of her musings. She would recognize the sound anywhere, it was a battle. It was fierce, and it was close.
Maybe we are going to be rescued after all, she thought. Or maybe we are just going to get new captors. Perhaps a new face would come down here and start their torture all over again.

Oh well, Raime thought. At least I've only been tortured twice. Could be worse I guess. Maybe the new guys will feed us more... maybe one will be stupid enough to come down here alone again. No tellin'.

There wasn't anything to be done at the moment, so Raime closed her eyes and let her mind wander again. I wonder how dusty my living room is by now?

Marcus Percious



Marcus just sat in his cell listening to the sound of combat outside. " My whole life i fought or threw people into prison. Now i am the one behind bars" he thought to himself.

Hearing the screams of wounded men and the sound of fighting getting even closer the Knight of the Imperial Legion stood up and stretched. Marcus was angry very very angry. He had been ambushed while on patrol and had been taken by his mysterious attackers to some strange dungeon in Skyrim. The knight wanted revenge h wanted to defeat his captors in single combat and regain his honor.

He had never spoken to any of the other prisoners nor had he spoken to his captors all that the Knight did was brood on his situation and bide his time till he could break free.

The sound of fighting was getting closer, and the Assassin could almost smell the death coming from outside. It was the only smell that could truly give her a good night’s sleep... the smell of fresh blood splashed on the cobblestone, the screams of their demise. Nina grinned, happy to see that her companion had not come for the imperial, but her captors.

As all this came to her senses, her memory of a few weeks back came back to her mind, almost feeling the crimson liquid between her fingers once more.

Her Nordic captors had no idea of who she was when they first captured her... merely thinking she was the perfect toy to play with, throwing her in a minimal security cell so they could have their fun. However, the assassin had other ideas as the first one came in to try and do horrible things. He fell to the floor without the one thing precious to him, the woman having a sharpened piece of metal between her teeth. Soon as the man collapse in pure agony the woman cut through his jugular, laughing innocently as she bathed.

Many had thought she was a vampire, the way she loved the sight of the blood, but the woman had been captured just before she had reached the destination where she was to receive the gift.

As the man lay still, the imperial woman was knocked out hard by the guards who had found the scene, and locked up the woman in the higher security cell she was in presently because of the act she had committed on one of their own. If only that one had the keys on his body... Maybe i could have escaped this She thought bitterly as she hung their hands and feet bound and chained, leaving her off the ground, unable to move.

Hearing the redguard shout, Nina could almost swear that "Stupid Girl!" was shouted at her because of her killing of the guard. This only made Nina laugh. "I would do it all over again, just to hear his screams...” She said in an eerily quiet voice. "You should be grateful.. Now they pay for their deeds in their own blood"

"They may not break you, Larry, but you can count on me to break your larynx if we ever get out of here..." Kai-Iira grumbled, stumbling to her feet and shuffling towards the cell door. By then, the man had already degenerated into a mumbling wreck on the stone floor. Her feelings of irritation towards him remained the same since day one - only now, the sounds of battle from outside were replacing that with a much different sensation. Excitement? Apprehension? She decided it was more likely the latter, but at this point, just about anything the argonian could think of seemed more appealing than spending the rest of her life in this hellhole of monotony and torment... And that annoying man's incessant pvssyr. Half-sighing, half-hissing, she leaned against the cold bars of the cell door.

"Well, just taking into consideration the possibility of the attackers not being here to free us...." she started , pausing to note the condition of her jacket. More tattered and stained with dried blood and grime than last week, which was expected. "Anyone care to place a bet on who dies first? My vote's on the fool Larry over there." she finsihed dryly.

Barrett, Prison Cell

Barrett woke up curled into a ball in the corner of the cell he had been thrown in. He looked around for what woke him up and saw it in the farmer, Larry, yelling "Hey! Hey wake up! I thought I heard something! Wake up guys! I think they're here! I knew it.. I.. I told you they'd come. Hah! I knew it! Those bastards are all going to die! Hahahahaha! Come on then you nordic swine! Try and win when we're not so defenseless! Come on you nordic swine! Come on!" Larry was jumping up and down like an idiot. Barrett groaned, annoyed. "Shut. Up." he muttered quietly as he rose to his feet.

As he got up and stretched, he couldn't help but think, Ugh, I wish I had been left in solitary isolation. At least there I didn't have to deal with people like Larry. He smiled as he thought about what he did to get in solitary isolation. One of the first times they walked him to torture him, they didn't think he was a big enough threat to have to have his hands binded. Well, they were wrong, weren't they? He had grabbed one of the guards, smashed his face into the wall and left him to bleed , then snapped another guard's neck. He had tried to make a break for it afterwards, but had gotten caught, though he still managed to break another's ribs with a hard kick to the midsection.

Of course, he thought as he absent-mindedly tried to free his bound hands and rubbed burn marks on his arms, they're being even worse towards me now. But it was worth it to see the guards panic as they realized that a prisoner had just taken out two guards and was trying to escape. He rolled his shoulders and began doing his daily excercises, but stopped when he realized why Larry was getting all worked up: metal clashing sounds - immistakably the sounds of a battle - coming from outside the cell. He paused his routine and listened as the sound of what was obviously a battle make its way closer to the cell.

Barrett frowned as he listened. Are these friends or foes? he wondered as he stood up and walked to the door of the cage he was trapped in. He grasped one of the bars and looked out of the cell. Regardless, he thought with a mental shrug. They can't be much worse than my current captors are.

DoNashi



"Skooma? Skooma?" He asked. "The nords have taken everything! Everything!" Larry cried, pushing himself up where he pressed hard against the metal bars. "But they won’t take our lives, no! Cyrodiil is great and strong, they won’t break us.. They won’t break me!" Through exhaustion Larry began to fall, "They've taken everything.." He mumbled as he clung to the cold hard stone floor. "They've taken everything..."

O, great. I guess he can’t answer my question then.

DoNashi decided to keep an eye on the door to like most others were doing. With the rat in his left hand, he slowly started a melody by using his claws and the metal bars, it remembered him of home so many years back. A longing gaze came upon his face.

His thoughts travelled back to the time where he was sitting in the garden at his childhood home. His father was playing an old lute that used to be his grandfathers, while his mum was singing to the melody. His brother and sister were playing in the grass with a bright colored ball. He stood up and ran towards them to play…

He got snapped back to reality by the sounds of battle outside that kept getting louder. He brought the rat to his mouth and took a small bite careful not to spill the blood. Although it tasted like ass it still felt good to have something in his mouth and soon in his stomach.

At least I won’t die with a big hunger. And if I manage to be careful not to spill the rats blood I can even drink a little bit to clench my thirst, even though the thought of drinking blood sickens me.

While slowly eating the rat and slowly trying to drink the awfull tasting blood, he had to chuckle for what the Argonian female said.

"Well, just taking into consideration the possibility of the attackers not being here to free us...." she started . he saw her checking up on her jacket. "Anyone care to place a bet on who dies first? My vote's on the fool Larry over there." she finished dryly.

“give the man a break will ya. He’s probably been stuck here the longest of all of us so we can’t expect him to still be strong. But yeah, he’ll probably die first.” He answered.

I’m not going to carry him or anything. You get out on your own or you don’t, it’s not that I know anyone of them.

A thought sprung in his mind. To escape we will need weapons.

“I want to make a reservation on the first weapon we find.” He shouted to everyone in the room.

“I want to make a reservation on the first weapon we find.”

Recognizing another Khajiit’s voice she turned from the doorway to see who it was. After a moment she found him, a tall Cathay-Raht with grey fur. Ma’Kahdar remembered his name was DoNashi and was the only other Khajiit.

“As far as I care it is yours.” she yelled back.

Looking back around the circle, everyone seemed to be reacting differently to the possibility of rescue. Larry had dissolved into a gibbering wreck, while Raime seemed to have started a slanging match with Nina.

“Look, when we get out of these cells, you two can try and kill each other. ‘Till then can we concentrate on escape, or something else productive? Please?”

Hoping than would shut them up, at least for a little while, she started to try and smooth down her fur. The battle was coming closer.

ooc: Sorry about not posting! Got ahold of assassins creed 2 again and well, I uhh.. Forgot to post.

P.S. I would also like to point out, that the blades are an extremely secretive unit, you may have heard of them, but I doubt very much you've ever seen one.
ic:
Gravious:

The dank walls and the dying candle fires that ran the length of the inner castle were not a pleasent sight. Shadows lined the corridors adn echoes beat against the cold brick. "Alright Gorun, you're lead." Gravious whispered, sheating his katana and taking out his winged mace, the weapon was much smaller than his sword and didn't need as much precision. Gravious noted Gorun also changed to his mace, albeit, the great orcs mace dwarfed Gravious'.

With a swift pace, the two began to move through the castle, It was quiet mostly, save the occasional voice and the sounds of battle from outside. The sound of a khajiit yelling caught his attention, "Gorun, halt!" he ordered and both of them stood as still as mice, waiting anxiously for another sound. The voice came again, "There it is.. Gorun, follow me."

The two of them changed direction, they had a plan now, a direction and with it came motivation - Gravious' mission had been to rescue a member of the blades which had been captured during an under cover operation. But if there were others.. Kidnapped survivors.. Well.. "Hurry!" He called and rounded a corner, his fast moving body hitting a small metal shield.
"Oi!" Came a voice behind it, it was nordic.

Gravious hit the floor hard, bowling two other people with him, 4 he quickly counted as he pushed himself away to gain distance. His shield and mace were back where he had fallen and four nords were moving on him. That was until Gorun rounded the corner, his large, sweaty face was a mixture of anger and surprise - Of which both emotions he replied to with an incredible roar. The nordic soldiers gave a small yelp and turned their backs to Gravious. The captain watched in surprise as Gorun attacked all four, his heavy mace crushed the skull of one, his shield bit into the neck of another. A sword nipped him in the leg but the orc beserker didn't notice, he simply swung his mace in retaliation, his huge muscles made the mace the deadliest weapon Gravious had ever seen.

As Gorun dispatched the last of the guards, he wiped his brow and picked up his captains weapons, "Didn't your mom ever tell you not to run around corners sire?" The orc joked, a deep laugh eminated from his chest. Gravious smirked and quickly donned his weapons, inspecting the dent in his shield with minor annoyance. "She also taught me not to play with sharp objects.. Obviously I'm not the best of sons.." The orc laughed again but it was cut off as Gravious continued his hunt for the voices.

"I think the voices are coming from here.." He issued quietly, pointing to a thick bolted door at the end of one of the darkest corridors in the castle. It was sloped downwards and there was a strong stench of decay. "Alright Gorun.. Betsy." The tall warrior nodded and reached for the warhammer again. Like before, the orc counted up to 3, but this time, Gravious was getting ready to charge into the door.
"1..."
Gravious flexed his neck.
"2..."
Gravious began to sway back and forth.
"3..."
Gravious raised his shield.
CRACK
Dust flew into the air as the door smashed into little pieces that crashed against the cold walls of the cell room. Gravious leapt in, shield raised and mace ready. His feet faultered slightly due to the stench, the very thing nearly made him throw up. "Clear!" he called to the orismer who still clung to the warhammer. "Gorun! Survivors, check for Pelligus first." he ordered and looked around him. His heart sank at what he saw; ragged, bruised and ill fed men and women of different species kept like animals in tiny pens. His blood boiled at the thought of it.

He looked to Gorun who went from cage to cage looking for a particular man, "I'm Captain Cussler of the blades.. We're here to rescue you."

“Give the man a break will ya? He’s probably been stuck here the longest of all of us so we can’t expect him to still be strong. But yeah, he’ll probably die first.” the khajiit male answered. Whatever his name was. Kai-Iira, for the tenth time in a month, thought it was ironic how she never figured out the names of most of her fellow cellmates after all this time - only Larry's name ever stuck out among the unpleasant haze of memories. Every other time, she dismissed it with the fact that there was no need to know each other, since they were all going to die sooner or later in this hellhole anyway. This time, however...

"I want to make a reservation on the first weapon we find." he added.

"As far as I care it is yours." someone else spoke.

"I call dibs on the second weapon. And the first few scraps of food-" CRACK

Her sentence, and train of thought, were cut short, and she instinctively recoiled as one of the doors that didn't lead to a cell suddenly smashed to pieces. In came a figure, likely Imperial, clad in armor and armed with a mace, and after him came someone who had to be an orsimer.

"Gorun! Survivors, check for Pelligus first." the imperial ordered, and the orc called Gorun followed suit, going from cell to cell, inspecting them for whoever Pelligus was. The imperial then addressed them directly. "I'm Captain Cussler of the blades. We're here to rescue you." The words immediately put a great deal of her apprehension to rest, and the prospect of actually escaping this prison and seeing the light of day no longer seemed like a laughable concept. No more living in a dank hellhole to be tortured and starved indefinitely.

"That has to be the best thing I've ever heard in a month!" Kai couldn't help but exclaim.

Hearing the gibbering amongst the other inmates, the imperial woman focused on the noises coming closer. As the door shattered, Nina froze, seeing the man who had walked in. So has death finally caught up to the killer? She thought as the orc starting looking in the cells to find a certain man.

When the man introduced himself, the name of who he was with confirmed her suspicions... but they were not here for her head. Which means they still think i am dead. Good i will have to make sure it stays that way. In the meantime they cannot see the mark. That will surely be my death sentence the imperial balled her hands into fists. The irony of everything happening recently was getting on her nerves, more so than anything had ever done. But she had little choice, she would not be able to make any moves in her weakened state, no matter how bad the situation became if the worst happened.

It would be time to act like an innocent once more it seems she thought and coughed a little before crying out. "Oh thank the Nine! We are saved!" her voice much more sweet and innocent than her normal voice ever was. "Our prayers have been answered.."

Speaking these words left a bad taste in the asassin's mouth as each word spoken felt like it had come from someone else and shoved down her throat to speak. As such it disgusted her and hoped that she would not have to keep this act up for much longer.. The man they were looking for could not have been any of the ones brought in with them recently.. from the way they were acting it was almost as if there were looking for someone of high importance.

Turning back towards that imeprial man in the doorway, her ice blue eyes looked at his own, trying to see what kind of man he truly was. Doing so may backfire on her act, but she had to sum up all of her options.. She wasn't the best in her profession for nothing.. and was not about to leave her fate in the hands of these men on their words alone.

Barrett, Prison Cell

Barrett scoffed as some Khajiit prisoner yelled, "I want to make a reservation on the first weapon we find." He said loudly in response, "If you find the first weapon, feel free to take it. But I'm sure as hell not gonna just hand you a weapon that I find just because you made a 'reservation'. My own well-being comes before ac ..." He paused as the door into the prison area was shattered and an Imperial and an orc entered. The Imperial looked offical, and the orc ... well, he looked like an orc.

"Clear!" Barrett heard the Imperial yell as he lept into the room. The Imperial said to the orc, "Gorun! Survivors, check for Pelligus first." Barrett saw th orc follow orders and begin inspecting cages for this 'Pelligus'. He lloked back to the Imperial as he said, "I'm Captain Cussler of the blades.. We're here to rescue you." Barrett frowned. The Blades? he thought, confused. I thought that they were the Emperor's bodyguards, or something. What are they doing here?

Barrett continued looking at the pair of Blades, hoping they would actually get around to letting him and his hands, loose.

DoNashi

He could hear sounds at the other side of the door. A manly voice said something that sounded like Betsy. Not knowing what it meant he readied himself for a fight when they would enter his cell. The voices started counting down from three. A loud crack echoed through the cell and he saw the door being smashed to pieces.

A man, who appeared to be Imperial stepped in with his mace and shield in a battle stand. He made a quick inspection of the room. “Clear!” he shouted. Next an Orc entered the room warhammer in its hand. And I believe that’s Betsy

"Gorun! Survivors, check for Pelligus first." The man ordered the Orc whose name appeared to be Gorun. The orc walked from cell to cell looking for someone that as long as DoNashi knew wasn’t here. Maybe they mean Larry over there, he seemed to know they were coming.

DoNashi looked back at the imperial when he spoke. "I'm Captain Cussler of the blades.. We're here to rescue you." the man said. The blades? What are they doing here? I thought they were the emperor’s bodyguard, or whoever is holding his place now.

“Sweet freedom. This is the best news I have heard in months. With how many are you ?” he asked, with a smile of happiness on his face.

Gravious

The influx of questions was expected, so he instead turned his back and kept watch outside the door, he didn't want to complicate things further. He occasionally peered to Gorun who was inspecting each of the cells until he came across one, "Captain." The orc requested, "Looks like we were too late." he added sadly, his eyes watched as Gravious rushed over and stood by the bars.
"God damnit Pelligus.." Gravious mumbled, his lips quivered slightly and his eyes watered with emotion. He raised his mace and swung it at the lock, causing it to break and fall to the floor with a heavy clang. Quickly, he knelt down by the dead body, it was bloody, bruised and piled in a corner. "Here lies Pelligus, loyal husband and father. May you watch him and protect him, for he now finally knows peace." He prayed, his armoured hands clasped Pelligus' own naked fingers. Reluctantly he inspected the mans body.
"What are you doing?" Gorun asked, looking anxiously to the door.
"Pelligus doesn't just die Gorun.. He had to leave something, a note.. I'm sure of it." The captain replied, his voice came out forced, It should've been my mission, godamn you Pelligus. You godamn swine! His mind raced to conclusions, he thought of the nordic warriors outside of the castle now, fighting sword to sword with the other blades. The urge to join them was itching the back of his throat but he kept on searching. "Got it." he shouted, to interupt his thoughts. He looked down at the piece of cloth in his hands, a code had been scribbled down with blood, it had dried and was beginning to lose colour, but he could make out the symbols easily enough. "Clever Pelligus.. Very clever." He looked to the mans anguished face and softly closed his eyes. "Rest now friend, you are in the company of heroes." With that he stood up and looked to Gorun, he nodded and turned to the prisoners.

"You have all been imprisoned by the nords, we are unsure of why but we will endevour to find out. We have a caravan outside of the castle, we will escort you there. Be mindful - There are still nords around. I warn any of you who are thinking of revenge, we will not wait for you. As soon as we are outside of this castle, our caravan will head to Bruma and you will be released from there." He informed, he wanted to know of their intentions and let them know the situation before he released them; he didn't want any half crazies trying to stab him. "Any questions?"

Marcus Percious

Marcus Stood up slowly with a grunt his knees cracking. Looking over to the two rescuers he nodded in thanks " I am Marcus Percious Knight Errant of the Imperial Legion, Can i aid in any way? he asked after introducing himself his voice was very silent but still strong Marcus hadn't spoken in days and the words felt almost strange when he spoke them. None had dared to torture the Legion Knight so he was without any physical injury aside form his pride and honor he was whole.

He had been allowed to keep his black shirt and pants that he always wore under his armor . Staring down at his feet though he was barefoot looking over to his rescuers " Any chance you have some shoes and a spare weapon?" he asked. Looking the men up and down Marcus realized they were Blades.

OOC: man Ive fallen behind in this, sorry I havent posted in a while.

Arwayn kept ignoring the talking among her cell mates as she kept an intense stare on the door. She began to hear voices outside of the door, one specifically shouting some directions although she had no idea what they were actually saying. Suddenly the thick wooden door burst open, slamming into the stone floor and causing splinters to fly everywhere. A few seconds later, a well armed man rushed into the room, followed by a hulking orc who was wielding a large warhammer.

Clear!" the man called to the orismer who still clung to the warhammer. "Gorun! Survivors, check for Pelligus first." he ordered and looked around him. He looked to Gorun who went from cage to cage looking for a particular man, "I'm Captain Cussler of the blades.. We're here to rescue you."

Arwayn felt her heart start beating a mile a minute, completely overjoyed to hear that she was finally going to be released from this hell. She felt like she could jump up and down with joy, but instead she only let a tired, relieved smile sweep across her face as she watched the orsimer scan the cells. To arwayn's slight dismay, he did not unlock any of the cells yet, he only scanned the cells for the one named Pelligus that they had evidently been searching for. The others began stirring around and pvssyring a bit, but Arwayn simply stood infront of the bars, watching the men as they looked for Pelligus.

Captain." The orc requested, "Looks like we were too late." he added sadly, his eyes watched as Gravious rushed over and stood by the bars.

"God damnit Pelligus.." Gravious mumbled, his lips quivered slightly and his eyes watered with emotion. He raised his mace and swung it at the lock, causing it to break and fall to the floor with a heavy clang. Arwayn then watched as he knelt down by the dead body, it was bloody, bruised and piled in a corner. He quietly said a prayer that she could not hear, his armoured hands clasped Pelligus' own naked fingers. Reluctantly he inspected the mans body.
"
What are you doing?" Gorun asked, looking anxiously to the door.

"Pelligus doesn't just die Gorun.. He had to leave something, a note.. I'm sure of it." The captain replied, his voice came out forced. Captain Cusslar searched his fallen friend for a few minutes before finally retrieving a note from somewhere that Arwayn could not see. "Got it." he shouted out loud. He looked down at the piece of cloth in his hands, inspecting it carefully. "Clever Pelligus.. Very clever." He looked to the mans anguished face and softly closed his eyes. "Rest now friend, you are in the company of heroes." With that he stood up and looked to Gorun, he nodded and turned to the prisoners.

"You have all been imprisoned by the nords, we are unsure of why but we will endevour to find out. We have a caravan outside of the castle, we will escort you there. Be mindful - There are still nords around. I warn any of you who are thinking of revenge, we will not wait for you. As soon as we are outside of this castle, our caravan will head to Bruma and you will be released from there. Any questions?"

An Imperial male stood up then, introducing himself as Marcus Percious, Knight Errant of the Imperial Legion. Hmmm... Knight Errant huh? I wonder how in the gods names they managed to capture him... she pondered to herself. Marcus asked the captain if he had any spare shoes or a spare weapon, and before the captain answered she spoke up.

"A weapon wont do me much good in this building since I am best with a bow sir, but perhaps you could spare a magicka resoration potion? I have not felt magicka flow through my body in the entire two months that I have been here. It has left my body feeling exceptionally weak." She spoke loudly, but hoped that her voice would carry a humble tone as she did not want to come off as ungrateful or demanding to the people who were restoring her freedom to her.

Barrett, Prison Cell

Barrett looked around as the Orc and Captain Cussler found whomever they were searching for. He couldn't see what was happening, but from what he heard, he could assume Pelligus was dead, but had managed to leave something behind for his friends. Just then, the old man who had been sitting silently in his cell for a long, long time stood up and announced himself as a Knight Errant of the Imperial Legion. Barrett snorted as he requested shoes and a weapon. Always nice to see a Legionairre brought down a peg, he thought with a small grin. Apparently emboldened by the Legion man's request, a wood elf girl made a request as well, but not for a weapon, but rather a magicka restoration potion.

Barrett thought for a moment, then decided he might as well make a request of the Blades as well. "Hey, guys," he said, his voice raspy from lack of use. "I'm pretty handy with a blade. If you free my hands and give me a sword - or a dagger, it doesn't really matter to me - then I can make myself useful." With that, he slid his rope-bound hands through the bars of his cage and hoped one of the Blades would free them.

DoNashi

He saw the captain and the Orc enter a cell. From his position he had no sight on what was happening but he heard enough to know the guy they were searching for was dead. After a few more minutes they came out of the cell again.

"You have all been imprisoned by the nords, we are unsure of why but we will endevour to find out. We have a caravan outside of the castle, we will escort you there. Be mindful - There are still nords around. I warn any of you who are thinking of revenge, we will not wait for you. As soon as we are outside of this castle, our caravan will head to Bruma and you will be released from there." The captain spoke. "Any questions?"

“Yes, maybe you have more than one spare weapon left after lending a blade and dagger. I don’t mind what kind it is, blunt or blade as long as it’s good enough to kill. ” DoNashi spoke. “and I’d be glad to join you in your quest to find out more about why we were brought here, if you don’t mind the extra mouth to feat. Either way I’ll follow you to the caravan.”

Finally some warmth and good food, I hope. We only need to get out of this place alive.

“With how many did you came to rescue us? And where exactly are we?”