Robert, Applewatch, Cyrodiil

"He was working as the accountant of a nobleman, and the nobleman decided to have a spot of fun with his taxes. Poof, his accountant ended up in jail. Fun, how the system works." Robert said. "He's been accused of stealing from this nobleman, and though I don't have proof of his innocence, I'm sure he wouldn't do anything like that. He was honesty itself back in the legion."

"I mean, I know a slimy nobleman when I see him, and this one looked like he crawled out of his snailhouse the same very morning. His daughters, however, were of a very fine build. Had I not had an angry barkeep on my tail, I might've gotten to know them better." Robert added with a wink.

"But, if you'll excuse me..." Robert said, before raising and heading for the table with the Breton female who'd entered earlier.

"Hey there" he opened, with a glim smile. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Sirius: Morrowind: Balmora

Sirius clapped and cheered with the others as the band left, they bowed and smiled and shouted their thanks. Then some of the lanterns were blown out to dim the room a little, the crowd gasped and started whispering excitedly.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, the finest singer in the south of Vvardenfel." The Bartender had appeared on stage and was trying to suppress a big grin. "I give you Arvisi Dralas!"
Everyone in the room stood up to clap and cheer and whistle, Sirius joined in simply for the sake of not standing out.
As he sat down, he was distracted by the smell of something dead and festering entering the room and the unmistakable scent of dog. Sirius eyed the man who had just entered; he couldn't possibly guess how he had persuaded the bouncers outside to allow a dog in here.

Arvisi walked onto the stage, she was wearing a low cut silk red dress which brought out the colour in her eyes and her hair, which was also a deep brownish red and fell in long curls down her back. She smiled at the audience who cheered briefly before hushing to let her sing.

The dog had found a table nearby to theirs and seemed to be looking straight at Sirius through the crowd. Sirius stared straight back at the dog, knowing that the way to establish dominance in the dog world was t keep eye contact. The smell of dead things suddenly got stronger as an exceptionally pale Altmer with white blond hair brushed past him and sat down next to the dog.
Sirius watched the strange man and his dog for a few minutes before turning his attention back to Arvisi who was managing to pull off some very soft sensual notes with her voice.

A few moments later he caught sight of Acerbus making his way towards him through the large amount of people in the room.
"Good evening, Sirius. What of this meeting? I think we should stay as alert as possible. The last thing we need is an ambush, Vile forbid."Acerbus said as he sat down.
"Indeed, friend. I don't know if you can smell it but there is a necromancer in the room he has a dog with him. He may be with the hunters but I doubt vampire hunters would ally themselves with a necromancer. Especially not these ones, they were very specific. I was given instructions to meet them here with someone from the guild, but I really couldn't say what they want with us, so we'll just have to wait here." Sirius sighed, glancing again at the dog. "But how have your travels been Acerbus, it feels like an age since we last crossed paths, whether it was or not I can't tell."

Elliana, Applewatch Tavern, Cyrodiil

It wasn't long before a pewter dish with a very red steak was set before Elliana. A fork and knife soon followed, along with a cloth. As she picked up the knife and cut a small piece away she was interrupted.

"Hey there" A Breton man said with a smile, "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Elliana was caught off guard by the greeting and dropped her knife on the floor. She quickly picked it up and wiped it with the cloth. She began ridiculing herself in her head for not thinking of an excuse of why she was in town.

She looked at the man and opened her mouth, "Oh... I'm just..." She paused and smiled at the man, something about him attracted her, "I'm here to find some place quiet to stay for a day or two," It was a weak excuse and she knew it. Taking a bite from the rare steak and then wiping her mouth, all with delicate high class table manners which was a habit she couldn't shake, she asked, "Do you live here? Or are you visiting too?"

Robert, Applewatch, Cyrodiil

With a smile, Robert sat down by the table. "Somewhere quiet, you say?" he repeated, wondering why. Maybe she was running away from something. Maybe she had an interesting story to all that...

"I'm just staying here in the inn. Me and the innkeep, Jones, go far back. I've stayed here now and then just as a sort of holiday. Especially due to his ale. Jones brews the best ale on this side of Tamriel." Robert said, noting something high class about her, something he really couldn't put his finger on.

"So, what made you need a place like this to lie low for a few days? Trouble with the authorities? The legion? Or something more trivial?"

Pardon my lateness, but my internet was down all weekend. I just got a new router, and am fully ready to bring Maglir to Balmora, though he'll need a reason to enter the tavern and find you all. Perhaps a mysterious note? It worked well enough in Oblivion afterall


Maglir, Outskirts of Balmora, Morrowind

IC: Maglir stopped at the crest of the hill, looking over the impressive city of Balmora with a twinge of awe, 'Nothing like Falinesti, or the Imperial City, but a sight none the less.'

The starry night sky stretched in every direction overtop of him, the two moons out in full. The river that cut Balmora in half sloshed on beside Maglir, a ribbon of darkness through the hills and swamps of southern Vvardenfell. The Bosmer tipped off his suede top hat, smoothing down his long black hair and checking the silk tie that kept it bundled behind him. Satisfied, he placed his hat back on its place atop his head, and continued his trek.

He had come a long way, though his travelling clothes did not betray the miles. Ever since that fateful night he had been having strange dreams, though he had been waking up stronger and more refreshed every day. His powers had grown, and it caused him much distress. His calm, peaceful life was interrupted by a mystery, a riddle about what he truly was. He had been infected without consent, and had fled Valenwood without knowing a thing about his powers. At first the feeding was difficult to get used to, but he soon found out how necessary it was, especially if he wanted to reveal his appearance, it made the transition less shocking.

He fingered the note in his vest pocket hesitantly, and after a moment of uncertainty he drew the parchment out again. He unfolded the crinkled paper, going over his own handwriting again, lest he forget. Though that was not likely, he had repeated the name ever since he had heard it the first time, from the old hermit. The cackling memory still echoed within Maglir's mind, and he still suspected the man himself was in fact a vampire, just as the elf he described was.

'Moon Eye, of the Dark Bloods guild, in Balmora.' That was all the old man would tell him, but it was enough for the Bosmer to travel hundreds of miles to find the mysterious Dark Blood guild, and the even more mysterious Moon Eye.

He approached the front gates of the city, the flickering torches casting dancing shadows on his masked features. He gave a small nod to the stationed guards, trusting his illusion magic to do its work, but still breathed a sigh of relief when he was succesfully within the city. As the moonlight streamed through the empty streets, Maglir pondered his next move, 'Dark Bloods... where would they be? Or more importantly, who would know?'

After a few moments, he decided to try the most reliable source of information in any city, the nearest tavern. He looked to his left and right, and immediately spotted a noisy pub on the corner of the adjacent street. Lights streamed out of the open door, past the rather large Nordic bouncer guarding the door, and illuminated a small sign that hung beside the door, 'The Dancing Guar'.

Maglir promptly walked up to the man, trying his hardest to look tough as he contemplated the height difference between the two of them. He gave a small cough, as if the Nord weren't already staring directly at him, "Good evening, my good man. I would like entrance to your fine, ah, establishment." He tried to make his words both polite and cordial.

The Nord eyed him a moment, no doubt wondering how quickly he could pin him against a wall with his feet dangling down, and just how funny the sight would be. But he seemed to think better of it, knowing that he couldn't afford another strike on his record with the guards, and stepped aside. Maglir gave him a large smile, and walked into the pub.

All at once, so quickly that it almost startled Maglir, the loud noises and cheering within the bar fell to a low whisper, no doubt due to the attractive looking Dunmer on the stage. Just as Maglir found her fiery eyes, she began to sing. Soft, sensuous notes, so alluring that Maglir could not even make out the words. The small Bosmer had to sit down, lest he collapse onto the floor. There really was no hope for him when it came to women.

Two tables down from him a large dog was looking off into the crowd of patrons, accompanied by a very pale Altmer. Maglir glanced at them once, then dismissed them as a curiosity, so engrossed was he in the performer on the stage. In fact, the elf was so attentive, he completely forgot to check and see just who the dog was staring at.

Darion. Balmora, Morrowind.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Darion remained flat on his back, silently admiring the warm orange light that now bathed the starless sky over Vvardenfell. With an appreciative expression lining his features, he raised his self-rolled cigarette to his lips, svcking on the tip of the thin, flimsy paper tube. Smoke roiled down his throat and into his lungs where it remained for several seconds before he released it, yet another wispy cloud entering his vision. The large wooden door he lay upon rocked gently in the Odai River.

Yessir, it was the little pleasures that mattered in life, lycanthrope or no.

"Oi! You, outlander!" Darion happened to glance up at one of the arching bridges just ahead of him, a Dunmer guard decked out in Bonemold glaring at him. Or at least, he assumed the guard was glaring at him. Damn helmets.

"What now?" Darion shot back indignantly. It wasn't like he was breaking any laws. Hell, the door he was riding hadn't even come from that city!

"Get off that...what are you..." the guard stammered. Darion fought back a slight chuckle at the Hlaalu's expense; he rather enjoyed seeing the Dunmer struggling to comprehend just what was going on.

"I'm sure this is breaking some kind of law!" the Dunmer finally managed to roar. "Get up here, and for Azura's sake bring that raft with you!"

Darion sighed, reaching inside his jacket for his flask. He supposed he could always head to one of the local clubs for some entertainment.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and hold on a second..."

Benedictus, Half a mile outside Chorrol, Cyrodiil

A small fire crackled silently as Benedictus sat upright beside it. His eyes shut, his hands pressing a golden medallion against his lips. He breathed deeply as he was in a meditative state, not awake but not fully asleep. There, he prayed silently to whatever gods were listening. Through his near sixty four years of service to the gods, the vampire hoped passionately that they would forgive him for succumbing to the dark cravings of the blood-hunters. Perhaps one day the gods would be generous and free him of this evil bond. Perhaps.
The Lizard sighed and and looked downwards towards the soil. Ever since his becoming of a vampire, Benedictus had entered a state were he would ponder if the gods actually existed, and actually heard his prayers. He had been waiting for almost four decades for forgiveness, or some sort of sign at least that the gods pitied him. But alas, there had been none.

He opened his eyes slowly, and started into the burning embers of the fire. He had never really known why vampires disliked the sun so much, being one for over sixty years didn't answer the question well either. Ben had mainly figured it was a religious reason - Light vs Dark, Good vs Evil. Vampires were truly dark creatures, and as light as the Templar could have been he could not help those dark impulses and hunger for blood. He had resisted the urges for month's until the cravings were to unbearable. He had hunted down bandit's and thieves, not only for justice, but for the blood that ran through their veins. The thought of the thick crimson liquid made fresh saliva caress the inside of the vampire's mouth.

The thought was quickly extinguished as Benedictus turned his head towards a small clearing that over looked a part of the road from where he was camped. He heard something coming down the road, a quiet evenly based 'clomping' sound like hard boots on the stone floor. The reptile sprung to his feet and kicked dirt into the fire, putting it out rather quickly. Whoever was coming down the road, the Templar could not risk being spotted.

EDIT: Edited per Adeth's request. I'll play along

(Jerrie, if you are referring to Bran, he's not on horseback. )

Brandon, half a mile

After having walked while, Bran thought he saw the smoke of a campfire but almost the moment he noticed it, it was gone. He shrugged and walked forward. Even though it had only been about half a mile, his legs hurt. He just wasn't too used to walking.
Bran hadn't walked a lot during his ten year long stay in the Priory and he had only walked around in the near by forests looking for ingredients. And either getting lost there because of his bad sense of direction or just walking up to chorrol for fun.

As Bran passed the spot where he saw the smoke come from, he looked into the direction and stopped. He was trying to see if there indeed was someone. He truly was childishly curious sometimes, especially when he noticed a little something he hadn't counted for. Is it the Piory priests? If so wonder if they will want to take me back. Bran thought rather skeptically. He was slightly paranoid but always suppressed the thoughts before they led to panic.

Bran stepped off the path and decided to relax a bit by the clearing.

(Im not sure if you referred to me but, can you play along?)

S'Kragki - Balmora, Morrowind

Yet again, the feline raised the jug of alcohol to his lips. After two centuries, the only things that seemed strong enough to affect him were flin and sujamma, and he couldn't afford flin most of the time. People watched him warily as he walked down the stairs towards the river, the buckles on his dark coat jingling softly with each footfall. He shut his eyes for a while as he strode along, taking deep breaths of the cool night air and the scents it carried; the smells of beer and vomit from a nearby tavern, the perfume of the Dunmer cuddling her lover near the river, the earthen stench of the river reeds, musty coolness off the water itself and just a hint of tobacco smoke.

He sighed and reopened his eyes. There was something beautiful about mortal settlements, something the Guild lacked. Immortals were so.. stagnant in his eyes. People, no matter their race, got listless when faced with eternity. There were no goals to be met before you died anymore, no aspirations, no rush. You just.. were. It was boring. But when you know you could die tomorrow, you're motivated. There's a compelling force that wants you to go do things. In all honesty, it was nostalgia that cities invoked in S'Kragki. He missed his mortality.

Tilting his head up to the night sky now, he gave a small laugh to himself. There was a time in his life he'd have welcomed the chance to live forever, but that time had passed and so had the person who'd made him feel this way. He supposed it wasn't that bad in the end, though. Certainly gave one a different outlook on the world when you knew one day there'd be mountains that were younger than you. You just had to make sure not to get attached to things and you were fine, mostly.

When he raised the jug to his mouth again and found it dry, S'Kragki snapped out of his thoughts and grunted. A hand slipped into his jacket and fetched a small metal flask, from which he removed the cork and downed the contents like a shot. Cold blood was disgusting, but there wasn't much he could do about that here. He hadn't had fresh in so long it hurt, but he would never attack an innocent just because he was uncomfortable. By now, he'd reached the city limit and a dirt path lay ahead of him. With a smidge of planning, he climbed his way up to the roof of one of the buildings, from which he made his way to the archway over the Odai. Dead center of it, he plopped down and crossed his legs, then shut his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city around him and the water below. Half drunk and sufficiently fed for the night, he smirked and wondered how long the serenity would last before someone hollered at him to get the hell down from there.

Jimri - Cyrodill, Applewatch's tavern

While enjoying her supper, Jimri quietly watched the pair, mentally reviewing what her drifting gaze picked up. She wasn't certain but definitively felt something was amiss with them. She couldn't tell for sure where it came from - whether her heightened senses, her practice at 'reading' peoples or some vampiric sixth sense - but both mens had an hungry feel she didn't like.

She was interrupted in her reflexions by a newcomer, this time a young breton woman, wearing what looked at least partly Legion equipment. Jimri eyed her with some curiosity, noticing the contrast between her utilitarian garb and the neat way she was eating. Woodman garb, rare meat and high society manners. Thats an odd mix. I wonder what's her story...

She was surprised to feel a pang of contrariety when one member of the pair she had noticed invited himself to the girl's table. She repressed an impulse to join the competition. That's odd, I'm feeling almost jealous. There's something in her that's drawing me. Something vibrant, lively. And I admit it could be funny to steal her right under his nose. It would make every guy in the room mad... And some fresh, young blood would be a welcome respite after lord Harald's broth. He tasted like a boar. A fat, greasy, mead-swilling boar. Yurk.

Jimri steeled her will, squashing the thought. Quiet, girl. You don't need to cause a tavern brawl. And you won't need to feed before a few days. Besides, you're still reeking of horse, and she's probably not swinging that way either. With a sigh she returned her attention to her meal, quickly finishing it while sipping her beer, before accepting a piece of apple pie.

The pie looked good, with the crispy crust, a compote covered with thin slices of slightly browned apples, covered with a neat glazing of apple jam. Her sensitive nose confirmed her suspicion that apple brandy figured in the recipe too. As soon as she took her first bite Jimri found herself lost to the the world, submerged by the assault on her senses.

After what had seemed an eternity of sensation Jimri finally ate the last crumb from her pie and fell back into the mortal realms, feeling a wave on contentment coursing from her taste buds to her brain and then her entire body. Yffre. It was almost as good as blood. That piece of pie alone is worth the travel. I'm lucky my bloodline can enjoy that sort of things... Add a nice, warm bath and I'll be the happiest girl around.

A quick glance at the room showed her that she had been absent for only a few minutes, even if they had felt like a lifetime. Finding a life-shaking epiphany in an apple pie... The Blood Gift has some unexpected side effects. Or it's the shock of eating normal food after a few weeks of roasted boar and mead.

Elliana, Applewatch Tavern, Cyrodiil

"So, what made you need a place like this to lie low for a few days? Trouble with the authorities? The legion? Or something more trivial?"

Elliana thought of an excuse as she took her time chewing on a piece of the steak, savoring the flavors from the juicy that seeped out from every bite.

"I'm just tired of the busy cities, and I figured a nice quiet settlement would be a good escape," She said to the man, feeling the need to end the conversation quickly she followed up by saying, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish my meal in private."

Elliana stayed silent for the rest of her meal, then headed for the room she had rented.

Huh, that was quick. Usually they don't leave like that until I've tried to eat them. Robert thought neatly, before heading back to Nytt and his apples. Because what would the day be without an unnecessary snack?

Very dull, that's what he told himself as he drank deeply from his ale. He would have to tell Nytt about her behaviour though. Couldn't have people like that around at Jones' place. The last thing they needed was an imperial patrol poking their noses about in Applewatch. Might be fun, but wouldn't be fair to Jones. And nor to the best ale on this side of Tamriel.

"Ah, the troubles of life..." Robert muttered, before suddenly laughing silently to himself.

"They have been uneventful, unfortunately. Though the Legionnaires on the trip here refused to keep their weapons out of my face. They acted as though I were a monster," Acerbus said, a large smile crept across his face, though more of a grimace for a terrible joke. The sound of the Dunmer's singing drowning out most of the conversation from unwanted ears and kept Acerbus at ease.

Acerbus turned to face an Altmer's dog staring at Sirius. He then looked back at his leader, "By the Matron, he smells of rotting flesh. Your assumption of necromancer is no doubt the truth. If these vampire hunters want to discuss something with us, why not a necromancer? Forgive my suspicions, but don't you think this is a bit strange? Even in the slightest?"

Sirius: Morrowind: Balmora

"Legionnaires these days, they've been trained to be paranoid, even though the Oblivion Crisis was a century ago." Sirius said with a faint smile as he let the soft notes of Arvisi's voice wash over him, he closed his eyes and tapped his foot in time with the slow beat of the lute and drums that were accompanying the singing. His relaxed appearance was just for show though he was really on edge and preparing himself for anything.

"By the Matron, he smells of rotting flesh. Your assumption of necromancer is no doubt the truth. If these vampire hunters want to discuss something with us, why not a necromancer? Forgive my suspicions, but don't you think this is a bit strange? Even in the slightest?" Acerbus asked.
"I think there is something very odd about that man yes. I don't know how he got an animal past the bouncers outside, but I don't think he's with the hunters."

Arvisi finished her current song on a well sung low note, the crowd clapped as she bent down to take a sip of water providing the audience with a very clear view down the top of her dress.

"Speaking of hunters..." Sirius muttered to Acerbus.
Two men, an orc and a Redguard, had just entered the room, and by the looks of it they hadn't bothered to dress in a subtle manner, as both were wearing full netch armour, including helms. They made their way slowly through the crowd as Arvisi took up a much faster paced song, the words rolling off her tongue as she stood up from her seat and danced about the stage as she sang.
"Good evening?" Sirius said in a serious tone as the two men literally plonked themselves down in the other seats around the table Sirius and Acerbus were sat at.

"Don't try anything with us." The orc stated in a menacing fashion.
"We weren't going to try 'anything' as you so put it." Sirius replied, suppressing a smile. He had seen people like these two men before. In fact they were almost common to him, they just inexperienced vampire hunters looking for a nice bounty to collect by killing the older vampires rather than the younger ones.
"You wished to do some business with us? We are listening."
"Would you like to take this business elsewhere, outside perhaps?"

That sounds like a threat. Sirius thought.
"I would rather conduct our business here, I assumed you wanted to talk, if you had wanted a fight you should have said so. I would have arranged our meeting somewhere more private."
"They said you'd be unreasonable. Well there are more of us outside and we will not stop until the both of you are dead, and any other vampires you have crawling around here."

Sirius didn't bother to suppress a laugh. His laughter was not exactly loud but it commanded attention, it was strong and came from deep within his chest.
"Do you find this funny? You are faced with death and you only laugh at is."
"Enough of this" The orc grunted, standing up and pulling a crossbow from his back and loading up a bolt.

Suddenly Sirius changed, he did not want innocent people to get hurt because of him.
"Not yet!" The redguard yelled, knocking the orc's arm. But it was too late. The bolt fired over the heads of the crowd and hit Arvisi straight through the neck, pinning her to the wall.

For a second the room went silent and then erupted with screams. All the men in the room who had just moments ago been infatuated with love for Arvisi instantly became angry, all of them swearing on their lives they would kill the one who had just taken Arvisi's life.
"Don't get involved, the guards will handle them." Sirius said just loud enough for Acerbus to hear. "We need to keep out cover."
Everyone who rushed for the exits, piled out into the street only to discover more crazed vampire hunters outside, all of them so desperate to kill both Sirius and Acerbus that they treated everyone as a potential vampire.

As Sirius tried to head for a door, the orc hunter pounced on him, and the redguard went to pounce on Acerbus.

OOC: Sorry for the badly written ending of that post. I'm tired. Basically everything is chaos at the Dancing Gaur.

The Redguard dove at Acerbus, who slid delicately from grasp, sending the Redguard to the ground. He pinned the hunter to the floor and gave the back of his head a strong elbow, enough to knock the man unconscious. "They just tried to kill you, my friend. I will not stand back and let this happen!" Acerbus shouted as he tore the Redguards belt from his waist and wrapped his hands up behind his back.

The chaos in the tavern was overwhelming, Acerbus was being knocked back and forth as he fought his way through the frantic crowd, attempting to help his leader.

OOC: I didn't know what to put there. I didn't want to take away an action you were going to give your character. And sorry for my crappy posts lately.

Maglir could not tear his eyes from the beautiful elf singing on the stage. He had missed her introduction, and thus her name, but between her body and her voice, he had completely forgotten his mission. He sat back, his eyes still firmly placed on the young elf, and enjoyed the music. He faintly heard some commotion from a nearby table, but ignored it, the elf woman was much more important.

The Bosmer's calm ecstacy was suddenly and completely ruined, torn from him like his home and family, when a crossbow bolt pierced her throat. The force of the blow knocked her backwards, and sent a gush of blood pooling on the stage. Maglir considered rushing up to help her, or at least enjoy her blood before it grew cold, but dismissed both ideas quickly. Instead he chose to do much like the rest of the tavern and angrily inquire as to the nature of the shooting, "Who in Oblivion did that!" He roared, knocking his chair back as he stood, slipping on his studded gloves.

He began to trace the bolt's trajectory, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed the large orc and redguard in the center of the room, dressed in full suits of netch armor. He flew towards the pair, whose attention, strangely enough, was not at all focused on the darling woman they had just killed, but a very tall elf and an aged Imperial. Just as Maglir was about to turn them around and show them both what he did to woman-killers, they jumped on top of the pair they had been speaking with.

The Imperial threw his attacker off of him, showing surprising strength for such an old man, and delivered a swift elbow to his face. Before Maglir could ask what was going on, the pale Imperial dashed out of the bar. The Bosmer was about to chase after him, but instead chose to take his anger out on the orc, who had tackled the tall elf somewhere behind Maglir.

The Bosmer immediately turned around to find his prey, his brow knotted with anger underneath his top hat.


OOC: Half Tooth, you can decide to have my guy help you or not, I just wanted to give you the option first. Also, I too apologize for the terrible post, the Saints are playing the Patriots downstairs and half time ended during my post Thanks.

Inaesth sat alone at a table, listening to the music and finishing his drink. He was toiling his money around, counting up his most recent profit. It was substantial and would be enough to get him transport out of Balmora. It was his last night here, and he decided to have his last drink at the tavern before leaveing.

He just put the money away when an abrupt commotion entered the building. He looked up when he saw the singer, dead, with a bolt through her neck. A crowd was shoveing their way out and a group of armed men were blocking the way.

Inaesth calmly walked up, his two daggers in hand for just scaring the people out of his way and it was easier with daggers than walking around with his sword. He walked out to see more armed men and looked like they were setting apon two men.

OOC: not much a good post but I wanted to get in post.

OOC: See edit. I didn't mean for it to seem like Acerbus left Sirius back there.

Sondil, the Dancing Guar, Balmora.





Sondil was not sure if he liked social function at all; first people looked at him strange and he could almost swear two of the mysterious patrons the Oberon was fixated on where talking about him, he felt uncomfortable to say the least.

The thing he disliked most about his venture into the normal world was the sudden violence, he could handle himself very well in a pinch, very well indeed, but he did not enjoy the noise or the chaos or the lack or personal space. It made him feel trapped, which often led him to bursts of uncharacteristic rage and paranoia, not an occurrence many would want to witness, the last time it had happened he left ten people dead and reduced half a building to rubble then fell into a two-day coma -- waking up in a psychiatric facility a changed man.

Oberon growled and reared his over large head as an Orc began waving a loaded weapon around like a mad man, taking aim at the marble eyed man only to have his cross bow knocked aside by his Redguard companion. Sondil was mildly surprised as a sudden silence fell over the occupants of the Dancing guard, he looked around trying to figure out why they had stopped their celebrations, it didn't take him long to spot the singer pinned to the wall by a thick bolt, blood dripped from the feathered end and curdled onto the stage in a fashion he imagined to be quite tantalising for any vampires.

"Keep an eye out Oberon, we might just find one." He muttered, bending down to pat the dogs head, not noticing as a wine bottle went whizzing past where his head was moments before. Then without warning a body crashed into him, the smell of sweat was over powering, he heard Oberon lashing out and a gasp of pain as the fangs sunk into the leg of whoever had assaulted his master.

"You did this! You and that wretched dog!" A familiar voice shouted as the doorman dragged Sondils face up to look at him, the Nord was very mad indeed, and half covered in whatever he had fallen into after Sondil had paralysed him. "I'll gut you like a squib!"

"No, I didn't do anything actually. It was the Orc." It was a fact, nothing more, he didn't feel scared or intimidated, just wrongfully accused and misunderstood. Oh how he hated unintelligent people. "I request that you remove yourself from my personal space before either myself or Oberon is forced to do so by methods considered less than gentle."

"Are you taking the piss? How about this!" He said as he aimed a kick at Oberon, who yelped as the thick leather boot made contact with his ribs. All of a sudden a flickering ember of quiet anger that forever burned in Sondils chest, overshadowed by his sense of rationality and logic, suddenly burst into a torrent of flames at the sight of his Dog cowering away in pain.

A flash of light and a sudden heat wave passed between them as thunder shot from Sondils fingertips into the Nords chest, his eyes opened wide as his organs where cooked from within, he gave little fight and made not even the faintest of noises as he collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap with smoke curling up out of his mouth.

"Come Oberon, grab his legs." Sondil said as if he had no qualms or guilt over taking another's life, but then again, he didn't. He also didn't know why he bothered telling the dog to help carry the body, he didn't have arms to lift with.

Slowly Sondil edged across the room, pausing every few seconds to let drunken brawlers pass in a jumble of flailing arms and ill mannered curse words, he only had a vague idea of what he was doing, he had a keen ability to take in every detail of a room as soon as he entered, he put it down to keen intellect. In this case however he had spotted a door leading to a backroom, an establishment this size had to have a large stockroom of some sort, and perhaps something else.

"Aha!" Sondil said as he pushed open the door with his rear, dragging the corpse of the Nord by his legs now, he spotted a large cart full of barrels at the bottom of a stair well into the stockroom, the room itself was lined with kegs and crates of food and wine, but he was more focused on getting to the cart for now.

The Nords head bounded down onto each step as Sondil dragged the body clumsily down the flight of stairs, Oberon waiting at the top with an almost bemused demeanour, if a dog could have such a demeanour that is. "Come Oberon, Stand guard while I empty this cart." he shot to the dog, waving his hand at the door which slowly closed over with the encouragement of a very weak telekinesis spell, he had never been very good with telekinesis.

His method of emptying the cart was quite a simple one, he removed the wooden blocks from the back which kept the cart balanced in the absence of a horse and opened the back, leaving gravity to do the rest as the back end of the cart smashed down to the ground, pivoting against the wheels as the barrels rolled out across the stone floor, the contents of each leaking out creating a tangy combination of mead and wine.

Growling came from behind as Oberon began to drag the body inch by inch across the floor, he began to make a little more progress as Sondil lifted the body under the arms and shuffled backwards over the puddles of alcohol on the floor. With some difficulty and awkwardness on Oberons part they managed to push the body up the slanted cart and secure him in place by tying his belt to a hook used to secure tarp to protect cargo from the rain.

He spent the next ten or so minutes of brawling and fighting retrieving bodies, four in total. He had to kill the last one by holding his hand over the mans mouth while the other pinched his nose, luckily he couldn't fight back due to a weeping head injury that had knocked him unconscious. Sondil was tempted to return for the singer but things where kicking off in a scale that he didn't want to deal with, so instead he covered the bodies with a sheet and encouraged a horse from its pen and set about strapping it to the cart.

Once finished he pushed the large back door open, expecting to make a quick escape, but unfortunately found that the bar brawl had spilled out onto the streets, figures wearing the same style netch armour as the Orc and Redguard who had kicked off the riot could be seen fighting in the crowd.

"What do you think Oberon? Yes, trampling them would be a good idea but I don't think the guard would let us get that far if I did. No I don't want to wait. No I don't. What do you mean chicken? Fine, I'll show you who'd chicken." Sondil said, whipping the back of the horse viciously. They immediately shot forwards towards the crowd, Oberon barking loudly as if he was an early warning system for collisions.




OOC: Checked with Halfy to see if it was ok to steal some bodies I have no idea why i wanted to do so though.

Good news. I have an adequate Internet signal again! Yay!

Short. I need to go to bed. Will be continued...

Been busy. Wish I had more time.


IC:


Jamaal, Talos District, Imperial City

As Shaleez and Jamaal made their way into the cold streets, a gathered crowd stood around the doors, which were guarded by legion soldiers. The crowd appeared to be afraid, as the legion men put on their mighty serious looks. Jamaal made his way through the crowd, the inn across the street. There was not usually this much commotion in the district square. Luckily, Claud lived on one of the pathways. Jamaal pushed his way along, and approached the legion soldier.

"What's going on here, sir?"

The legion soldier stood up tall, his face grasped in seriousness. He tightened his chin up, the words hitting into the air like artillery fire.

"An Altmer was murdered a few hours ago. No detail has been said. A few saw a blue robed man come in and hug him, then just walk out the door. Seconds later, the Altmer coughed up blood, and fell to the floor. People ran outside, trying to catch the man, but the damn university is touring the districts, auctioning for artifacts. They all wore blue robes. We couldn't catch him."

The dead Altmer was their companion. Shaleez, now looking into the sky, shouted, shoving Jamaal into the crowd. An arrow ducked beneath his head.

"Shaleez, run."

Jamaal pulled his crossbow, aiming a bolt at the figure, but could not get the shot off before the figure hid into the shadows.

"Quick, lets tell Claud of this, we should hurry..."

Both figures ran through the crowd and up the main pathway, to the large metal outer door which lead inside.

Jimri - Cyrodill, Applewatch tavern

Now that she was back on Nirn she made a quick survey of the room, focused a bit on the breton girl. Who had already sent back her wannabe seducer with his tail between his legs Nice trimming. Quick and economic. It seems she's not into men. Or at least not looking for one. She was now hurrying to finish her meal and depart for her room.

Jimri decided to follow ? her bath should be ready, and it gave a pretext to meet with the girl out of the public eye. She couldn't tell if it stemmed from a want for friendship, a thirst for some fresh blood or some other reason, but she felt the impulse. Never an introspective sort, she preferred to act, rather than think, upon that feeling.

She paused for a few seconds, looking with some consternation at the effect of day's travel on her dress, before standing up and heading straight for the stairs at a brisk pace. Seemingly oblivious to anything but the need to refresh herself. The sort of reactions one could expect from a somewhat airheaded rich young woman. Jirmi carefully adjusted her walk to reach the stairs at the same time as Elliana, nearly bumping into her.

She stopped, making a small apologetic motion along with a warm smile. Glad that her bloodline kept her fangs down a length that was only a bit unusual amongst the meat-eating bosmers. Of course the Dark Gift's magic would change that if I was hungry or about to feed. Fortunately I'm neither. "Oups excuse me. I as in such a hurry to clean up and get soaked in a bath I didn't pay attention."

Jimri felt the odd attraction growing somewhat stronger with proximity. She had an odd feeling, of something strong and primal dwelling under the skin of a young woman. Something which stirred her own blood, calling to the predatory nature hidden within.

ooc: Wewtz, had a friend over last night so I couldn't post. But! Let's see what I can do -

Nytt - Applewatch Inn - Cyrodiil

ic: Nytt smiled as Robert walked off and watched him go, his eyes catching the provocative woman at the counter. He shrugged and shook his head as he brought out a piece of paper, quill and ink pot. He dipped the quill into the pot and began to write a letter, every so often stopping to take a bite into his apple or sip on his drink. However, he hadn't gotten much written by the time Robert had come back, "You're obviously losing your touch Robert." stated Nytt as he looked over to the woman he had tried to woo, "With a face like yours though, can't possibly imagine why." He teased as he took another bite from his apple and leant back; away from his letter.

"So, what went wrong?"

"She's on the run, see. She told me she was just looking for a quiet place for a few days, which means she's running from something and decided to lay low here for a while. Hopefully she won't attract any trouble, the last thing we need are a company of the Legion on the doorstep." he told the elf, taking another sip. "But seriously man, have you ever gotten anywhere with 'What is a girl like you doing in a place like this'? I was sure she'd toss me some random sarcastic remark, maybe even insult my parentage. I'd certainly do that."

"Anyway, there was something strange about her. Something about her screamed noblewoman. I can't put my finger on what, but we better find out what she's up to, lest we wish to find ourselves in the hands of imperials when we sleep."

Nytt - Applewatch inn - Cyrodiil

"You suspect she's a hunter? Or that she's going to attract attention?" He asked Robert becoming somewhat serious, he didn't like either idea. He'd never been hot on the decision of killing women - Something about it being slightly immoral in his mind. And he had a thing for his morals - The only thing that related him to mortals. "Either way mate, I'd agree about finding out - atleast to make sure Jonas' place is looked after. We owe him that." He added, if she was a hunter, he'd rather have her hunt him out in the woods where he can kill her quietly.

Robert, Applewatch, Cyrodiil

Robert shook his head. "I don't think she's a hunter, she acted more like she was the hunted one." he said, and sighed. "But we can't be sure, I guess. We should keep an eye on her room, just in case she suddenly bursts out, armed to the teeth."

Robert looked over at the stairs again. "Hell, maybe she's even a werewolf." he said, followed by a laugh. "No, but seriously, we need to be more careful nowadays. People aren't all too pleased to have their friends and relatives drained of blood now and then, and if anyone finds out, Jones will be in just as much trouble as we will."

Robert didn't have much problem killing women. They were, after all, mortals, just like men. There was, however, the issue with the body. People tended to get somewhat upset when they found their daughter bloodless and dead out in the woods. They didn't even want to talk about it, they just tried taking his head off.