The Dragon Slayers : The Elder Scrolls Series Discussion

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:55 am

Davian Hawkstar - Freaky Farmhouse
Being used to abandoned farmhouses having massive underground catacombs, labyrinths, and monsterous lairs beneath them from his upbringing in High Rock, Davian Hawkstar reflexively looked around for anything that looked like a lever to open a hidden door, before remembering he was here to find and kill a Dragon, not raid a dungeon. "Alright, Tariq, follow me and keep an eye out for anything suspicious, or any sudden movement. Krom, Jolgier, stay quiet and stand guard," he ordered resolutely, his voice intentionally louder and clearer than necessary. Drawing his axe and loosing his shield, he carefully scanned the room as he headed toward the second room. He trusted the Khajiit's keen eyes and ears to cover for where his failed.

He was outright defiant of the eerie silence, in both voice and the heavy footsteps of his steel boots loud against the wooden floor, as well as the rattle of his mithral armor. However, he wasn't carelessly making a cacaphony. Each step was measured and consistant in its impact with the floor, and even through his helmet he seemed to be listening for something as his armor's links rattled. His behaviour could be mistaken for arrogance and defiance, but the Breton was actually listening to the acoustics of the room, and listening for subtle audio cues both in response to and independant of his "sound signature," and identifying the sound signatures of his companions. He also listened for aural aberrations: echoes where there shouldn't be any, or sounds not affiliated with himself or any of his companions. The former could indicate false floors and secret doors, while the latter could get them all killed. An adventurer who knew how to listen ended up wealthier and lived longer than those that didn't.

Once he reached the room, he checked out the bloody footprints, seeing where they led, and identifying the shape of the foot before turning his attention to the note and impaled dagger. He was fully expecting this to be a trap of some sort, but had full faith in Tariq's ability to cover him. Once he gathered what information he could from the footsteps, he turned to read the note pinned to the table.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 9:03 am

OOC: I don't really see much of a need for a pre-timeskip post afterall, so I'll just let Surius lingering bitter attitude respond for him. Also, I am for the "dismounting and going through the forest" option of pursuing the roaring noise, if that is alright with the group

IC:

Destroyed Inn; South of Amol
Surius Roscius

The round Imperial whistled softly at the charred remains of the inn, reining his horse to a stop at the edge of the rough dirt road. The nobleman had traded his fine white linens for a thicker fur coat, a gray wolf-skin, and another pair of fur trimmed slacks, a darker gray than his coat. The rest of his wardrobe was stuffed into the bulging saddle bags, cushioning the dozens of vials arranged carefully within. The rest of his stock of poisons were secured in the pouch at his waist, beside the gilded silver dagger at his hip, the engraved blade still unsullied by blood.

Surius glanced at the other mounted hunters, a mismatched assortment by Imperial standards, that he had travelled from Laintar Dale with. Throughout the journey he had kept mostly to himself, determined to ride at the front of the group, as if he really were their leader. He had left Baal more or less alone, though he glared at the elf whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with the woman, which he had done rather frequently. The Dunmer had been almost equally chatty with the other members of their party; the murderer's charms never ceased to amaze- and sicken- Surius.

The Imperial spoke up before the other Dunmer, Xerca, had the chance. Surius was determined to prove himself the true leader of the group, and to Oblivion with whatever Bjordi said! "Well, whatever happened here certainly wasn't any ordinary fire," the nobleman said, unaware of how obvious his remarks sounded, "Only the fringe of the surrounding forest was burned, which means the flames didn't spread far from the inn. However, everything around it was completely scorched; seems to be a prime candidate for our elusive reptiles."

"I think our best course of action would be-" the Imperial was cut short by a deep, bone numbing roar, echoing out of the forest like a roll of thunder. Surius could only shudder as the sound washed over him. 'Talos help us...'

Hanniel Baal

The old Dunmer chuckled atop his horse, his perfectly white smile unaffected by the booming roar. Baal patted the side of the black stallion's neck, bringing the animal to a graceful stop at the edge of the charred remains of the inn. Unlike his Imperial counterpart, Baal felt no need for thick furs; he still wore the finely cut black coat and trousers he had had at Laintar, the silver locket round his neck his only decoration. His soft black boots made no noise as he dismounted his horse, still smiling as he calmly stretched his legs.

The ride had been long, and Baal was not the spritely elf he had once been. Nonetheless, he had enjoyed the trip, particularly the conversations it afforded him. 'Elynniel Arthedaine...' he mused, soft red eyes flickering to the woman. He chuckled again, thinking of Surius' looks when he spoke to the young human. 'Oh, this shall be quite enjoyable.'

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 9:41 am

Kordin The Furious - North of Riverwood

---

The frigid air bit into Kordin's body through the parts of his body uncovered by armor. It wasn't a whole lot better than what was covered, the steel scales felt as cold as though they would freeze right through his rough black tunic and into his skin. He had been leading his team through knee-deep snow over rocky terrain, where one could see no more than 10 feet in front of themselves due to the heavily falling sheets of white that whipped through the wind in all directions and the dense forest of trees that lay around them in all directions. At this point, most people would have assumed that they were lost. After all, they had been walking for nearly three hours, and everything looked the same since they had left Riverwood. But Kordin knew they were on the right track, as they had been told to head directly North, and they had continued to pace in that very direction since the early morning.

As the team of warriors continued their journey through the frozen forests of the mountainous landscape, snow and ice crunched and cracked beneath the weight of their steps as their feet dug far into the frozen powder. Kordin noticed that the farther they had been moving along the last few minutes, there had been an increasing amount of trees that had been cracked, scratched, or broken down. He pondered what could have caused such a thing to happen. Nobody in their right mind would have been venturing this deep into the savage lands of Skyrim's wilderness, and if there had been lumber crews about, they would have taken more trees than this. Pondering what to make of his findings, he continued to lead his men in silence.

All of a sudden, Kordin's step took him into a large open space, vast as the eye could see. All of the snow had been melted, and the trees were charred and blackened. This clearing of trees was not a natural one, as one could tell quite obviously by the jagged remains of dead timber that gave off sizzling steam and thin wisps of smoke. In the distance, about fifty paces away was a simple stone archway that lead into a dark cave. Unmoving figures lay strewn about several feet from each other near the entrance. Kordin began to move forward faster, and his team followed close behind. As they came closer, they could see the gruesome sight of several dead men. Their blood lay in unrippled pools of deep maroon against the burnt ground, and many of them were missing legs, arms, or even heads. Some of these parts had been somewhat or completely removed by fire, others by means of a sharp blade.

As Kordin bent down to examine one of the only relatively intact corpses, a deep, brooding feeling began to brew in the pit of his stomach. These cuts and cleaves were made by no blade, they were made by claws. There was no way to distinguish such, but he knew they were sent here for a reason, and they were likely about to face it. The dragoon stood and turned away from the bloodstained body of the man he had been examining.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Kordin's voice was booming and powerful, like that of a Nord, yet dark and raspy, as characteristic of a Dunmer. "As you can see, all of these men are dead. I fear that they are the ones who were sent before us. Look around at what you see." Kordin spread his arms out his sides, his open palms and sharp steel claws pointed toward the sky. "We need to keep the same fate from befalling ourselves. And to do that, we will need to act smart, we will need to fight smart, and we will need to work together. Our test will soon be upon us." Kordin turned to his side, but kept his gaze on the group he was speaking to as he pointed toward the cave. "It's quiet out here, too quiet for a scene like this. I know you can all feel the breeze coming from that cave, despite the harsh winds that have been blowing the opposite way since we embarked this morning. I say we should go in there and see what we can find."

As Kordin finished his sentence, he pulled his lengthy lance from it's clasps on his back, looking to his team for a response.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 8:28 am

Drathyn, Scorched Clearing

The snow swirled through the air as the group entered a good sized clearing, the trees and ground scorched to an ashy blackness. The smell of burnt wood and dead bodies thick in the air. Drathyn looked at the dismembered cadavers. Five, nine, fourteen, seventeen. counted Drathyn in his head as he looked and the bodies that were strewn across the burnt soil in front of a stone cave. Kordin walked up towards the cave then turned and began to speak,

"Alright everyone, listen up! As you can see, all of these men are dead. I fear that they are the ones who were sent before us. Look around at what you see. We need to keep the same fate from befalling ourselves. And to do that, we will need to act smart, we will need to fight smart, and we will need to work together. Our test will soon be upon us. It's quiet out here, too quiet for a scene like this. I know you can all feel the breeze coming from that cave, despite the harsh winds that have been blowing the opposite way since we embarked this morning. I say we should go in there and see what we can find."

Drathyn now turned his attention to the cave, he walked up towards the entrance and knelt by the ground. He ran his hand through the charred soil, examining the large reptilian footprints. These are fresh, the wind would have destroyed them otherwise. He stood and then turned around to face Kordin. "I must disagree with you, see these tracks." Drathyn pointed down towards the mouth of the cave. "They are not but half an hour old, if they were any older the wind would have destroyed them." Drathyn then returned his attention to the bodies, kneeling next to one and placing his hand on its arm. Cold. "These bodies are here so they don't spoil, my guess is that it's hot in the cave. The bodies would deteriorate within a few days in there, rendering them useless." Drathyn stood back up paced over to the caves entrance, a rancid wind issued forth from the opening. He's home. Drathyn turned back to Kordin. "He will eventually get hungry and have to come out, I say we wait and make our move then. In the small confines of a cave we are easy targets, especially when this....Dragon has had time to figure out it's layout. However in an open field we have a better chance of survival, especially when we have the advantage of surprise." Drathyn looked around at his surroundings, the circle of trees was about 100 yards in diameter, the entrance to the cave about 12ft by 17ft. He's bigger than the last one

"I say we make a trap, his hunger will lure him into it." Drathyn raised his voice slightly. "We can wait out by the entrance over to the left, and when the Dragon emerges we can surprise it." Drathyn gave Kordin a look and then motioned to the tree line with his head. He began to walk towards the trees. I hope it heard that... Drathyn thought to himself as he turned and motioned with his hand for the group to follow.

OOC: If you guys could just follow me it would be great, I'm not going to leave the area just for what I want to do we can't be near the cave.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:42 am

Krom Grimblade-Freaky Farmhouse

Nodding silently to Davian, Krom readied his axe, "Dragon's Fang" was far too large to be swung properly in such tight confines, prepared for the worst. "Best to keep silent for now" thought the berserker. Listening for any trouble Krom was ready to fight.

Motioning silently to Jolgier that they should remain quiet. " I hope he will fare better against an enemy than he does at the site of a Khajiit" he thought unhappily.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:42 am

Senes Varvun, North of Riverwood

Senes pulled out his flail as he walked into the grove and examined the corpses. Poor bastards, he thought with a sigh as he looked down at the burnt and dismembered bodies around him. He turned his head as Draythan noted that the Dragon was likely in the cave, and started walking to the treeline. He addressed Draythan, "What's your plan? Do you expect us to just run up to the dragon and start hacking at it's feet?" Senes walked to the enterence of the cave and glanced inside, then turned back and walked to Draythan. "We need something more elaborate than that, friend."

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:07 am

Elynniel Arthedaine - Destroyed Inn; South of Amol

The journey to the Inn had been relatively uneventful. The aged old Dunmer, Hanniel, he had called himself, was a rather refined person, she thought. He had a sort of quality about him that lent him a certain mysterious flair. While she found their talks to be interesting, some gut feeling told her not to get too friendly with the mer, though she wasn't quite sure why, perhaps it was the strange looks that Surius shot her whenever she talked with Hanniel, but she felt inclined to trust in her instinct and was determined not to become too close with the mer.

When they reached the Inn, the first thing that struck Elynniel was some foul smell, it was almost like rotten eggs, yet it held some other quality about it that she just couldn't place her finger on. In any case, the smell alone was enough to make her feel sick and probably her horse too, which was shifting uneasily beneath her. She patted the mare reassuringly, though it did little to calm the animal, except cause it to stop moving. Looking up, Elynniel was struck by the sight of Inn, all that remained was but a smouldering pile of ashes, blackened and foul. The forest beside the Inn was charred as well, the outskirts burnt by fire, ash-cloaked trunks standing weakly, their branches protruding like skeletal remains. Blanketing the forest floor was more of the black ash, covering the land like snow.

The silence that had fallen over the group was suddenly cut short by the nasal voice of Surius,
"Well, whatever happened here certainly wasn't any ordinary fire," the nobleman said, sounding like a utter idiot, "Only the fringe of the surrounding forest was burned, which means the flames didn't spread far from the inn. However, everything around it was completely scorched; seems to be a prime candidate for our elusive reptiles." Surius paused, then continued, as though he was perfectly in command of the situation, "I think our best course of action would be-" Elynniel was about to make a sarcastic remark when a sudden, blood-curdling roar echoed out throughout the forest, washing over the group like a wave, nearly deafening in it's intensity.

Gods..., Elynniel thought numbly, visibly shaken by the unexpected ferocity of the roar. If that was the dragon, then she wasn't in a hurry to face it. By sound alone, it nearly knocked her over! Glancing at her group, she tried to hide her fear behind a wan smile and said,
"On the bright side, it looks like the dragon is still here." On the other hand...

» Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:36 pm

Drathyn, Scorched Clearing

"What's your plan? Do you expect us to just run up to the dragon and start hacking at it's feet? We need something more elaborate than that, friend." said Senes as he approached Drathyn. Drathyn turned around to face Senes and whispered too him in a barely audible voice.

"The dragon can hear us, we need to talk in the trees." Drathyn turned and began walking again. Hopefully the they will notice that me shouting our plans was intentional. Thought Drathyn as he neared the treeline.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:07 am

Tariq - Laintar Dale - Derelict Farmhouse

The Witchhunter scanned the room, nose twitching as it took in the scent lingering in the crisp cold air, eyes taking in the view of the room itself; despite being dark his natural night vision helped him make sense of the shadows in the far reaching corners of the farm house. Seeing only an empty bed and a dresser in that darkened corner. The Khajiit strode over to the footprints clawed fingers gently trailing the viscous liquid on the floor some of it coating his fingertips; Tariq smelled the blood, then tasted it tapping his tongue against his stained fingers rolling the taste in his mouth; human, that was all he could discern from it the smell was too faint to determine any exact ancestry, though the house smelled faintly of Nord that of course could be due to the two of them that blocked the farm entrance contaminating the smells of the house.

“The one that bled here was human. That’s what the taste says anyways.” The Witchhunter spoke, rather absently as he turned to Davian’s back who had busy studying the note. The ohmes-raht rose to his feet, tail twitching in pent up anxiety walking over to the bed and dresser by the far wall shrouded in darkness. Opening one of the drawers he found nothing but clothes, though still he was sifting through the garments to check for anything of interest.

» Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:40 pm

Scorched clearing

Undrad

The Greybeard's staff remained dark as the others spoke and he himself stayed a bit further back from the cave than the rest. He had no interest in the burning cadavers strewn about the entrance of what was quite obviously the lair of a quite fearsome creature. Though he pitied their fate, these people were obviously beyond help and Undrad didn't need their mutilated corpses to tell him what kind of a beast they could expect to emerge from the cave... No, what demanded the old Nord's attention was the silent sound of breathing that came from within the cave. His eyes narrowed, unable to pierce the darkness that awaited within, but he thought he knew what to expect. Indeed, where his eyes failed him, the Greybeard's imagination was already providing that dreaded silhouette that he came on this 'hunt' to see.

The rest of the party seemed to be discussing means of slaying the dragon, however Undrad was barely listening, his brown eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave, almost glassy beneath the strands of white hair that dropped over his face. He almost believed that a silent voice came from within the cave... No, it could not be. The herald of Alduin couldn't know one of the Greybeards was here; what reason had he to suspect so? Except perhaps the fact that Alduin knew they would be waiting for his return... Dreading his return.

Zaanzeymah, zin hin paal... Alduin los staadnau ahrk ok bahlok los fin feyn do hin lein.

No. Undrad shook his head slowly. He is not. He cannot be. And his herald can't know I'm here. Not yet. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned away from the cave. I musn't poison myself with deceit before my enemy can even attempt to do so. That would mean the end of me and maybe more. Hrothgar shall see me return, my mind untouched by the dragons or he who comes after them. The Greybeard took a step towards the treeline, where one of the Dunmer - Drathyn was his name, or so he had gathered during their trip to this place - was attempting to gather his companions. His staff lit up once more, preceded by a silent crunch as it pressed deeper into the fairly fresh snow that had not yet been melted away by the dweller of the cave.

"He speaks the truth. What we suspect to lurk in the cave might have been barred from entering since ages long past, but I would not risk by presuming it will not understand your tongue." The voice from the staff was rather silent this time, although it wasn't clear whether that was because it was no longer contained by the walls of the governor's hall or because Undrad seemed to be gripping the staff tighter.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:12 am

Xerca Valeci - The Scorched Inn

As they approached the inn, Xerca could already tell there had been a large fire. Ash hung delicatly in the air and brushed across the ground like leaves in the wind. He took off a glove and placed it near his mouth and nose to stop him from inhaling any of the most likely toxic ash. Surius, who had been acting extremely odd during the trip over was now assessing the situation. His eyes scanned the inn, it was truly burnt to the ground. Was this the doing of a single dragon? How long had it attacked it? Was this a small dragon or a large dragon? These were the sort of questions that ran through this researchers mind. He never thought to fear the situation, until he heard the terrifying roar nearby.

His horse whinnied in fear and threatened to pull both of them to the ground. "Blasted animals!" He swore and managed to regain control. What I wouldn't kill to have a silt strider. He mused as he smiled at the female Imperial who seemed to be quite light hearted. He realised that this was his first leadership moment, here he would decide the fate of his group. Should they investigate the sound? Or should they scout around, see if they cannot find any clues or other ways into the forest that would allow them to keep their horses?

"I think whatever we decide to do, it should be with horses. I don't much fancy walking into a trap with no way of escape." He stated, the dragon knew they were here, or atleast.. He assumed. Can they smell that well? Perhaps it's watching us? He nodded further down the road. "We should continue riding, it looks like the road follows the forest and perhaps there is a bridle path with which we can use to investigate the inner forest." He spurred his horse into a slow pace, hoping the others would willingly follow him.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:43 am

Auelenne, Scorched Clearing

Auelenne silently listened to Drathyn's suggestion as she crouched to examine a charred grinning corpse.

Maybe he died quickly. Maybe he died if fright before the flames even had a chance to claim his eyebrows.

She glanced at Drathyn, nodding in agreement.

It's a good enough plan as any. If this thing's really here, it's not going to die easily. She tried to shake off a sudden feeling of hopelessness.
It's going to be a giant, fearsome creature! We need to be very lucky, or it needs to be very weak...

She drew her dagger and made a small incision into the baked abdomen. Her vial of poison was upended as she emptied the contents inside.
"Hopefully he's hungry." She half whispered aloud. "We shoud let him snack on this first."
She removed a few of her tainted cookies from her robe, and hastily stuffed them into the pockets of the dead man.

Should make it seem more visible to the beast.

Auelenne propped it up against another corpse, and loosened his clothing to expose more bare fleshy areas.

If I were a fire breathing dragon, I'd definitely eat that one.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 7:12 am

Jarn Imgarth. Ruined Inn

Jarn was nursing a vicious hangover the morning the group set off to find dragons. By the Nine, Krom can drink Jarn thought to himself as his horse plodded along. It was a fine horse by all accounts, a large warhorse but even it was struggling under the combined weight of Jarn, his armour, his claymore and his longbow. Jarn rode with his head bowed, slipping in and out of continuousness as his head throbbed. As the day wore on, Jarn recovered slightly and by the time they got the inn, he felt almost normal.

Jarn smelt the inn before he saw it. Smoke and ash filled the air as they got closer. Small fires still lingered in the forest surrounding the inn. Before he could say anything, an inhuman roar split the air and Jarn's horse stuggled against its reigns. "Woah, easy fella'" Jarn said softly, bringing the animal back into line with a sharp tug. Working on a farm as a child had given him plenty of experience with rearing and caring for horses.

"I think whatever we decide to do, it should be with horses. I don't much fancy walking into a trap with no way of escape." Xerca said.

Jarn grunted in acknowledgement and followed.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:36 am

Name: Wulfgar Feyn

Age: 33

Gender: M

Race: Nord

Birthsign: Warrior

Physical Description: Wulfgar stands at 2 metres tall, with a medium muscular build kept toned by his regular hunting. His hair is black and messy, with grey hairs spotted within the black. His beard is rugged, but trimmed around his mouth forming a goatee. Wulfgar's ice blue eyes seem to pierce one's soul as he glanced at you, and the massive claw-like scar that runs over his left eye and side prove that it would take much more than whatever created the scar to kill him.

Mental Description: With the deaths of his wife and son, Wulfgar's mental state is unstable at times when he is not hunting, and so the Nord hunts for many days at a time so that he would not let their deaths be for nothing. Is also an compulsive drinker, as by dulling his mind, wulfgar's thoughts will not linger on his failure as a husband and a father.

Class: Slayer

Class Description: Wulfgar is a master at hunting all manner of creatures (except for the recently appeared dragons) as as such he is a master of a number of weapons as each monster is slain a different way.

Skills: one handed blades and axes, shields, favors medium armour, and can craft makeshift weapons, armour and other items from creatures he slays and whatever is around him.

Weapons: silver edged Hatchet, hunting knife, Steel Broadsword, small crossbow

Armor: Round shield (with his clan emblem painted on), Leather armour (excluding the helm).

Misc. Items: Carries around with him a whole range of items that he would need to kill a creature, as well as potions for that needed edge. also a small pendant that he had given his wife, and the knife he was to give to his son the day he finished his first hunt. A few dragonling fangs are tied together and hung around his throat as reminder of what his true target was.

History: Wulfgar was born in a small village on the border of Dragon Wood, and was brought up like most male Nords in the village to protect their lands from all manner of creatures; from goblins and wolves, to even vampires and Lycanthropes. Life was everything the boy had wanted it to be, and could not have hoped for an opportunity better than this.

As the Nord passed his 19th birthday he met and married a barmaid from a neighbouring village, and was blessed with a son. Wulfgar's life could have never been better, as he had everything a man could ever ask for.

But this would all soon change as his son reached the age that the father would pass on his skills, in the rite to manhood that all took part in their village. On the boy's first hunt something that no one could have ever dream of happening happened. As the two were hunting some wolves that were attacking the village's livestock the sky above them turned dark. A creature that was thought to not exist anymore had swooped down and bathed the village behind them in fire. No one could have survived the attack and the Hunter, knowing this went into a furious rage and turned his attention upon the massive creature that attacked.

Even though his crossbow bolts did not pierce the dragon's flesh, the Nord would not be deterred from trying to take vengeance. Wulfgar got a lucky shot that pierced the creature's eye.. This was a mistake as the Dragon turned his attention to the Hunter and knocked him back with a strike from a claw, cutting deep on the Nord's entire left side. As the dragon began to attack again Wulfgar's own son tried to draw the creature away from fallen man.. and succeeded with a heavy cost.

The massive creature simply closed its jaws around the boy, and took flight with the smaller Nord still in its jaws.. the massive loss of blood made Wulfgar fall into unconsciousness the events that transpired after the attack were very blurry, but the Nord knew that a few of the other hunters that were in the forrest at the time of the attack had found him and found a healer to tend to his dire wounds.

Waking up a month after the attack, The wounds had healed, but not the ones in his mind. He could not grieve like many people because he would not let his loved ones deaths be unavenged. and so Wulfgar started to Hunt constantly, and when he wasn't he turned to Mead. However, another obsession soon made itself visible a year after the attack.. his search for more knowledge on the one that devastated his village and killed the ones he held dearest. With the knowledge he had gained to date, he disowned his family name and began to call himself Feyn or "Bane" in draconic. He did this as it will be what he will become to these creatures, soon even they would fear his wrath and he would not stray from the vengeance that he swore he would claim.

Wulfgar Feyn, Woods near Farmhouse

The cold wind cut through even the most thick of clothing but it was the way the slayer liked.. always downwind.. always having their scent in front and his behind. It had been two days since Wulfgar picked up on the trail of the creature that had caused much chaos and devastation to the settlements nearby. It was not a fully grown one, but even the smallest creature could cause much fear in villagers.

Stopping briefly, the slayer noticed something in the snow.. It had been disturbed recently, meaning something else had come the same way he did. It seems that any young fool wishes to hunt dragons.. there is no glory in charging in without the proper.. preparation the man thought bitterly as he carefully removed a vial from his wolf-skin coat. The vial glowed a faint crimson and seemed to have enough in it for the purpose it was to be used for.

Slowly placing the vial back inside his coat, Wulfgar then retrieved his most precious of items.. a pendant of a wolf he had given to his wife the day he had met her many years ago.. He had once told her that it would give her luck and protection from the worst creatures in the land.. However dragons had not re-emerged in that time, so it had not protected her from their wrath. As he kissed the pendant, The Nord gazed at the destination in front of him. The job he had been given was not the one he wished to hunt, but with his mead supply running low, and hunt was enough to keep the slayer's mind at ease from the nightmares still haunting his soul. Clasping the pendant, and placing it back in his pocket Wulfgar closed his eyes for a moment as he carefully listened to the winds around him..

He heard faintly the sound of voices, and his nostrils were met with the smell of blood. Something was not right about this and it had all pointed to the building off in the distance. Carefully Wulfgar unsheathed his blade, and unbuckled the shield strapped to his back. Now armed for the occasion, the slayer walked towards the scent and voices. The hunt would have to wait for the moment.

okay there we go. hopefully things will go smoothly from here on out >.>

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:56 am

(Deleted)

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:09 am

okay this will be blank since i cant delete :whistling:

» Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:15 pm

Krom Grimblade, The Farmhouse

Krom stood waiting just inside the Farmhouse. The faint sound of feet crunching through the snow and underbrush could just be heard. "What ever is coming does not want to be heard and to move as silently as it is it has to be very skilled" thought Krom readying his silver nordic axe testing the wickedly sharp blade with his thumb. He smiled and waited to see if it was friend or foe approaching. " Hopefully the later he thought grimly too long has my blade thirsted for blood" he thought grimly to himself. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins gritting his teeth and starting to growl "stop! you must control yourself" he berated himself in his mind. "I will not kill a innocent" Krom thought to himself. With a grim smile on his lips he was ready for whatever was approaching just keeping his rage under control.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:51 am

OOC: Just realized that I had so far left out one of Lecter's coolest features: his incredible sense of smell :facepalm: I'll do my best to correct that, then. Seems like a tricky thing to pull though... Anyway, since we seem to be down one Sannes, my group calls dibs on the next person to join the RP

Until then, I propose we investigate this dragon; onwards, my comrades! :happy:

IC:

Destroyed Inn; South of Amol
Surius Roscius

Surius frowned at the Dunmer's suggestion. Not that he disagreed with it- entirely the opposite, really- he just did not like the elf giving him orders. However, he could not reasonably make an argument to go off into the woods unmounted, and grudgingly fell in beside Xerca. 'I shall not follow him like some common soldier,' he thought, scowling sourly. 'Let us just see how "competent to command" he really is then.'

"So, Xerca, what, per se, is your plan once we discover the source of that- that noise." The Imperial had trouble writing off that earth-shaking roar so casually, but with with his infallible disdain somehow managed. "Surely you cannot think we six can defeat the beast on our own. Our only real warrior is hungover, and one amongst us is a woman- the best course of action would be to discover the beast's lair, then slip away to gather reinforcements. Amol is sure to be brimming with more Nords like that one," Surius flicked his hand at Jarn in a dismissive gesture, ignoring the fact that the warrior still had a good foot on him, even while mounted.

"Besides, it's not like the creature will fly away in a single night; it's been here this long, surely it means to continue its habitation." Surius' thin smile slipped, a film of sweat forming on his pronounced forehead. 'By Talos, we can't go up against that thing alone!'

Hanniel Baal

Baal watched the mage- 'Xerca Valeci,' he reminded himself- trot away, Surius following him like a lost guar, pestering the Dunmer with what were sure to be inane questions. 'Most likely terrified of the dragon, and trying to keep us from venturing towards it,' the elf smirked. 'If only the beast could simply kill him.'

Baal sighed, frowning at the glint of gold on the Imperial's finger as he rode away. 'But alas, that wretched binding.' The only way out of the Imperial's "contract" was Surius willingly removing the ring, something Baal had failed to entice the nobleman into on several occasions.

Visualizing, and not for the first time, the Imperial's final bloody screams, Baal managed a smile as he remounted his horse, moving with a languid grace despite his wrinkled frame. Baal gave the charred remains of the inn a final, detestful sniff- the smell of ash hung heavily around the building, with an undercurrent of the sour-sweet smell of burnt flesh- before prodding his steed along with a gentle touch.

"Well, it would seem we are already off again," Baal remarked, smiling warmly at the slim woman beside him. "I would not be so eager to find the source of that noise, myself. But then, I suppose it is what we are here for." The Dunmer's thin shoulders shrugged carelessly, his deep, velvet voice carrying an air of culture even his aristocratic companion lacked. "Some of us less willingly than others, I might add."

The Dunmer waited half a breath, stroking his horse's dark jet mane pensively, as if lost in thought. Suddenly, he turned his soft maroon eyes back on the woman, his small, perfect teeth flashing behind his smile as he spoke, "And what exactly brings you here, my dear Elynniel?"

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:18 pm

Wulfgar, At entrance of Quiet Farmhouse

As the Nord approached the Farmhouse, his mind wandered. Why would i even care about a building such as this? This is not part of the job i was given.. and there is no way the young dragon would pick a farmhouse as a home. He asked himself, stopping just at the entrance. There was definately something in there, he felt it in his gut.. And Wulfgar's gut had not been wrong yet.

preparing himself proper, taking a stance with his shield and hatchet at he ready he slowly kneeled down, moved his hand from side to side in the snow, before grabbing something solid. Lifting up the small rock, the slayer still kneeling, tossed the object inside before standing back up, ready in case a creature was inside. If they were men however, they would not simply charge outside. It would at least alert them to any presence outside, giving Wulfgar time to react and make a strike if they were bandits.

After all only a few kinds of people willingly go inside building covered with the scent of blood. And from the look of the fresh footprints leading to the farmhouse, it could mean some trouble.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 11:33 am

Elynniel Arthedaine - Destroyed Inn

"I think whatever we decide to do, it should be with horses. I don't much fancy walking into a trap with no way of escape." said Xerca, confidently "We should continue riding, it looks like the road follows the forest and perhaps there is a bridle path with which we can use to investigate the inner forest." Elynniel nodded at Xerca's suggestion, it was reasonable, and personally, she felt safer just having a goal in mind, it kept her mind off of the possibilities, which sent a shiver down her spine. Her thoughts were interrupted by the annoying whine of Surius' voice, somehow compounding the grim atmosphere by presence alone.

"Surely you cannot think we six can defeat the beast on our own. Our only real warrior is hungover, and one amongst us is a woman- the best course of action would be to discover the beast's lair, then slip away to gather reinforcements. Amol is sure to be brimming with more Nords like that one," Surius, Elynniel reflected, was a rather cowardly man, obviously also a city man, somehow thinking that because she, Elynniel, was a woman, that she could not handle herself. Glancing disdainfully at Surius, matching his attitude, she said,

"It would appear, friends, that Surius has a lack of faith in our abilities." She smiled viciously at the 'noble', "One that stems from his own impotence, no doubt." It might be a bit harsh, Elynniel supposed, but then, she couldn't resist making jibes at the portly man, he was just so out of his element here, in the wilderness. Not to mention he brought with him an air of offensive nobility. As the group began to move, Elynniel stirred her horse into a gentle trot. Hanniel was riding his steed by Elynniel's side and took the chance to strike up a conversation with Elynniel,

"Well, it would seem we are already off again," Baal remarked, smiling warmly at her. "I would not be so eager to find the source of that noise, myself. But then, I suppose it is what we are here for." Elynniel nodded slightly, Hanniel's presence was like a counterweight to Surius', calm and cultured, "Some of us less willingly than others, I might add."

The Dunmer waited half a breath, stroking his horse's dark jet mane pensively, as if lost in thought. Suddenly, he turned his soft maroon eyes back on the woman, his small, perfect teeth flashing behind his smile as he spoke, sending a sudden chill down her spine, "And what exactly brings you here, my dear Elynniel?"

Elynniel felt a chill down her spine, yet again unnerved by Hanniel's friendly, yet strange, gaze. She berated herself silently, Hanniel was just being friendly, yet here she was getting goosebumps, it was silly. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she replied, her tone casual,

"Oh well, you know. I have a obligation of sorts to see what must be the first living dragons to be seen in centuries. Oh, and I suppose for the reward as well." She added off handedly, then looked at Hanniel with almost scholarly curiosity, "And what brings you here? I hope you don't mind me saying, but you looking rather... old, to be doing this sort of thing with Him." She said, inclining her head slightly towards Surius.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 11:36 am

Krom Grimblade, The Farmhouse

Listening intently to whatever was approaching Krom noticed that it had stopped moving. Listening Krom heard the sound of something kneeling and searching for something, then he watched almost bewildered as a small rock bounced inside the door. Staring at the small rock almost confused Krom figured that it was definitely a person outside because what else would through a rock to check for enemies? So in normal Nord nature Krom bellowed out his reply to the small flung stone " Be you friend or foe" before stepping in front of the doorway his axe held defensively not waiting for a reply. Krom's broad shoulders and massive ebony plate armor more than filled the space of the doorway. Staring straight at a unknown Nord "what are you doing here" growled the berserker .

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:25 am

The annoying noble was talking again. Jarn felt his mood darken as he once again tried to second guess Xerca.

"Surely you cannot think we six can defeat the beast on our own. Our only real warrior is hungover, and one amongst us is a woman- the best course of action would be to discover the beast's lair, then slip away to gather reinforcements. Amol is sure to be brimming with more Nords like that one," The noble gestured towards Jarn. kill him.

"You are a coward, Lordling," Jarn said bluntly, wheeling his horse towards the noble. "I knew you would try and worm your way out of fighting yourself. You're all the same." Jarn spat on the ground. "Coward. Go home if you do not have the guts to fight."

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:39 am

Wulfgar Feyn, outside farmhouse

Hearing the booming voice of a fellow Nord before seeing the man stand before him in the doorway, Wulfgar knew that this man was not looking for a fight, especially the way he held his axe. "I be no foe, i simply observed something out of the ordinary and briefly stopped my hunt to investigate" the Nord replied simply, as his scarred face glanced at the younger man stading in front of him.

"May i ask the reason why you willingly enter a place so rank with blood and death, as you are too well armoured to be a simple bandit." If the slayer could guess, he would assume that the one standing in front of him was a mercenary, the Ebony armour he wore definately pointed to a well off lifestyle to afford such equipment. As his eyes moved to the axe the other Nord held in his hand, a spark of recognition came to his ice blue eyes.

"Where was your home of origin if i could add to my previous question?" Wulfgar asked suddenly, curious to see if his suspicion was correct.

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:37 am

Kordin The Furious - Scorched Clearing, North of Riverwood

---

Kordin nodded in silent response to Drathyn's motion toward the end of the clearing. Sharp and splintered remains of tree trunks stuck up out of ground, black and smoldering between the groups position and the point where towering pine trees rose high into the dark afternoon sky. Turning around to get the attention of his team, he waved his arm in a beckoning motion and followed the dunmer towards the forest. Kordin said nothing as they walked away from the mouth of the cave, until they approached the burned logs and remains of trees. The tall manmer stopped as they began to pass through trees and got to be a safe distance away from the lair. Looking over to Drathyn, he spoke a few quiet words.

"You take charge of the group, I'm going out across from the cave. When the beast comes out, I'll lure him after me, and bring him as close as I can to your position. You know what do from there. Understood?"

» Sat Feb 19, 2011 10:57 am

Drathyn, Charred Clearing

Drathyn watched as Kordin motioned for the group to follow him. Once they had maneuvered through the broken remnants of the forest to a safe spot Kordin spoke up.

"You take charge of the group, I'm going out across from the cave. When the beast comes out, I'll lure him after me, and bring him as close as I can to your position. You know what do from there. Understood?"

Drathyn responded, "Wait, I have a better idea, I know this area well from hunting it." He walked over knelt near a spot where there was some smooth snow and began drawing in it. "This is the clearing" he said as he pointed to a circle in the snow. "Just north of here about half a mile are the beginning of the mountains we saw when we arrived at the clearing." Drathyn pointed at a zig zag line he had made in the snow. "What we didn't see however is the valley that runs through there. As soon as the mountains start to take form there is a steep valley that was carved by a river. The locals call the it The Valley of the Winds, for a very good reason at that. The winds that come down from the north are funneled into the valley by the mountains, it is like a constant blizzard there. The gales would be too strong for the beast to fly, if he tried he would end up miles away from here or impaled on one of the many trees that line the valley. The river in this valley is very deep, it has many tributaries that feed it from the mountains. The current is swift, It keeps it from completely freezing. However this time of year the top freezes over. This is what I suggest we do."

Drathyn pointed back at the clearing and then to the edge of the circle, "This is where we are. If we can lure the Dragon out of the cavern and have it chase us to the valley then we have the upper hand." Drathyn traced a path in the snow from the clearing to the valley. "The blizzard makes it hard to see more than a 25ft, and the winds will keep it on the ground. We get it to follow us over the river, the ice will hold us but when the beast crosses it will crack and he will fall in the river and be drug under the ice by the current." Drathyn looked up at Kordin. "Hopefully this will kill it, or injure it..." he said with a slight feeling of doubt. Lets hope this thing can't swim thought Drathyn as he stood brushing the snow off his leather greaves. "If that doesn't work then I guess we'll finally find out who can fight and who can't."