[Adriana Lenzo]

Welcome to The Planeswalkers RP Thread #1

http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1418304-the-planeswalkers-rp-interest-check-and-sign-up/

________________________________________________

”I am Qorindil, a collector of all things Daedric. My research has revealed a rather fascinating discovery about the Daedric planes of Oblivion. According to an old, translated, book I found in the public library of Daggerfall, there are fragments scattered across all the planes of Oblivion. These fragments seem to originate from the same source and are part of something big. These fragments are unique and so far untouched by outsider’s hands. I am determined to obtain all of these fragments, but I cannot do this alone. A team of dedicated warriors, thieves and mages is needed. Whether you’re in it for the money, the adventure, the knowledge or experience, this is a golden opportunity you cannot miss."

________________________________________________

Meet the characters:
(underlined name is username, itallic font is character name and race)
______________________________________


GorbadPS3
Qorindil –(Altmer)

Spoiler

Name: Qorindil
Age: 86
Race: Altmer (High Elf)
Gender: Male
Height: 6’’7’
Birthsign: The Tower
Appearance: Qorindil has pale yellow skin and stands quite tall. He is slim, but lacks muscles. Because of the odd height-to-(lack-of)-body-fat-ratio, he seems even thinner than he is. Dark yellow, almost orange eyes. His hair is light brown and is combed neatly to one side, reflecting light.

Class: Collector
Skills and spells-effects: Reading, talking, charming, drinking. Uncomfortable in armor. Has extensive knowledge in the school of destruction, specifically lighting and shock spells.

Clothing / Armor: Wears a fine black outfit with gold decoration. A pair of matching boots complete his outfit.
Weapons: None.
Miscellaneous items: A number of scrolls in a large leather shoulder-bag.

Personality: Calculating but friendly. Eager and impatient. Interested in all things Daedric and will stop at nothing to get his hands on the fragments.
( Major flaw: ) Believes he cannot die.
Background: Grand-son to Umbacano. Little is known about his background, but he is known widely as a collector of Daedric artifacts.

Noryail-(Altmer)

Spoiler

Name: Noryail
Age: 314
Race: Altmer (High Elf)
Gender: Male
Height: 6’’2'
Birthsign: The Atronarch
Appearance: White-grey, wrinkled skin. White, short hair. Black eyes.

Class: Warlock, Conjurer.
Skills and spells-effects: Purely focused in the school of Conjuration, knows how to summon any creature from the planes of Oblivion and banish any creatures of Oblivion back to where they came from. Knowledge and skill to open gates to Oblivion, if he has a sigil stone. Has an deep pool of magicka that is impossible to recharge with simple potions and spells.

Clothing / Armor: Wears white wizards robes and a white wizards hood. A diamond ring. All heavily enchanted with magical power.
Weapons: A staff that grants additional prowess in magicka to himself. Uses it as a walking stick most of the time.
Miscellaneous items: None worth mentioning.

Personality: While you'd think Noryail is old and wise, he is just old and slow most of the time.
( Major flaw: ) Needs a welkynd stone to recharge his magical supplies.
Background: Knew Umbacano as a close friend and stays with the grand-son for practical reasons. Together, they are both very excited about all things Daedric.

OldRPG'sAreGood
Uthoryan Wicksley -(Breton)

Spoiler

Name: Uthoryan Wicksley
Age: 25
Race: Breton
Gender: Male
Height: 1,8 meters (5''11')
Birthsign: The Steed
Appearance: Subtly muscular, pitch black hair that is oiled and drawn back, thin mustache of two seperate lines of hair, gaunt face

Class: Battlemage
Skills and spell effects: Wield his sword more comfortably than his magic, in which his knowledge is restricted to only a minor talent in the school of Destruction, specifically frost magic.

Clothing/Armor: In casual attire, has an pompous silk garment with fur linings, with crescent moons and stars woven into the fabric. In combat, wears an more ornamental than practical set of steel armor, once again displaying crescent moons and stars in it's design.
Weapons: A steel claymore with an minor enchantment providing the blade with properties of freezing damage.
Miscanellous items: An abudance of jewelry, worn both in casual and battle attire, though in varying amounts..

Personality: Hot headed, arrogant, impatient, over eager
Major flaw: His belief that he is somehow better than anyone else

Background: Uthoryan was born into a wealthy wizard family residing in North Point, and had a childhood in which he had no shortage of anything. He grew up to be a common arrogant noble, but different from most of his family, who were almost completely made out of spell casters. While Uthoryan was better with his sword (a gift from his grandfather, an enchanter) than with the magic he had been taught from since his first steps. He can perform the basic magic, as most Bretons, but his family looks at his lack of arcane abilities with disgust, which brought Uthoryan to travel around High Rock in search for a way to increase his magical abilities that he could not seem to be able to improve by himself alone.

His journey brought him to Daggerfall, where he hoped to find clues in the many libraries of the city. There he heard of the altmer Qorindil, who might well be a ticket to the daedric realms, where Uthoryan hopes to find artifacts of magical properties with what he could be redeemed in the eyes of his family of spell casters.

WD40
Mordekai "Mort" Alan'ka -(Redguard)

Spoiler

Name: Mordekai Alan'ka (goes by Mort, for short)
Age: 29
Race: Redguard
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1
Birthsign: The Warrior
Appearance: Tan (lighter skinned than an average Redguard).Slightly less than shoulder-length, unkempt black hair. Brown eyes. Has a tribal style tattoo on the left side of his face.

Class: Sword and Shield Warrior
Skills and spell-effects: Very skilled in the art of sword-and-shield combat. He knows no magic.

Clothing / armor: His battle attire is steel armor (never wears helmets). He is rarely ever seen out of his armor.
Weapons: A Steel Short-sword, a Steel Buckler, and a small dagger, concealed in his boot.
Miscellaneous items: None worth mention.

Personality: A loner by occupation. When in the company of strangers he can come off sarcastic. When he lets his guard down, he is less rude, and more apt to be open.
Major flaw: Though not one to boast, he is very overconfident of his own abilities, and hates needing the help of others.
Background: Born and raised by a bandit group near Whiterun, Mort wanted to escape the bandit lifestyle and become a noble warrior. All of his young life he trained himself in the art of swordsmanship, and when he finally was old enough, he went to join the Companions. Though he was commended for his skill, he was ultimately refused due to his lack of teamwork.

Since then, he has been travelling Tamriel as a sell-sword. His last job escorting a group of wealthy Imperial merchants has led him to Daggerfall, where he is now looking for more business.

Mhund
Roymund Inventius -(Imperial)

Spoiler

Name: Roymund Inventius
Age: 36
Race: Imperial, Nibenese
Gender: Male
Height: 5'8
Birthsign: The Lord
Appearance: Athletic build, somewhat worn facial features of a once handsome man, auburn hair worn to his shoulders with a scruffy braid by each ear, bluish eyes.

Class: Explorer, Ranger.
Skills: One-handed, Atheltics, Stealth (Outside), Marksman, Tracking, Trapping, Alchemy.
Spells: N/A

Clothing/Armour: Steel-studded leather chestplate over an olive tunic, Hide crafted trousers and boots.
Weapons: A unique-looking Sabre (Big Brother), Parrying Dagger of identical craft (Little Brother), Traditional Nibenese shortbow, Quiver (30) of arrows.
Misc: Rucksack, Waterskin, Rations, Bedroll, Mortar and Pestle, Whetstone, 3/4 bottle of Stros M'kai rum, Journal.

Personality: Self-contained,
Flaw(s): Alcoholic.
Background: Thrown out of the Imperial Foresters eight years ago for assaulting an officer, he scratches out a living selling his services throughout the lands as a Hunter, Scout, or Explorer for anyone with the purse to afford him. Over the past few years, he's personal life has negated and has found him turning to alcohol more and more frequently. Recently heard rumour of a rare expedition being formed by a Altmer in far off Daggerfall, and began the long journey there by foot.

Athell
Talks-with-Spirits -(Argonian)

Spoiler

Name: Talks-with-Spirits
Age: 34
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Height: 5”6’
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Appearance: Talks has dark green scales across his body and his eyes are light amber which makes them stand out a little. Other than that his is very much a typical Argonian outside of Argonia. He has a ridge of spikes that run down the centre of his head, all of which are pieced with gold rings.

Class: Support Mage
Skills and spell-effects: Restoration, Illusion, Alteration and a small amount of destruction magic. He has no skills with any sort of weapon.

Clothing / armor: His robes are a darker green than his skin and he almost always wears the hood up.
Weapons: None.
Miscellaneous items: A restore magicka potion and a single welkynd stone for emergencies (this is wrapped in a cloth and kept in the bottom of his bag.) He also carries a small amount of food and gold.

Personality: Inquisitive, curiosity may have killed the cat but it’s done this lizard the world of good. As a support mage he understands the weakness of his position if he is attacked physically so he has dedicated his time to practicing the art of healing and bolstering those around him.
(Major flaw:) Physically incapable.
Background: After his magickal talent was noticed at an early age his parents hired tutors for him to teach him the arcane arts until he was of age and then he took the natural route and joined the Synod. As most familiar with them will know the Synod are obsessed with collecting artefacts of power and Talks found himself on many expeditions to gather such objects.
When he heard about the fragments Qorindil had discovered he could not help himself and set off immediately to hope to aid in their collection.

disturbing
Dandre Frand -(Breton)

Spoiler

Name: Dandre Frand
six: Male
Race: Breton
Age: 32

Physical Description: Just about every detail of Dandre is dark, save his palish skin coloring. He has short black hair that juts up messily and dark brown eyes that almost appear to be black. His body is just about covered head to toe with scars and burns. His face is unmarked from damage save for a scar that runs down where his right eye used to be. He wears an eyepatch over his empty eye socket. Dandre stands at an average height of 5'9, and has a slim build from a life of scarce eating. He is clean shaven and always tries his best to appear clean. He is handsome in a rough kind of way that some women find attractive.

Class: Thief/mercenary
Skills: Dandre is very sneaky and handy with a pick. He is proficient in hand to hand combat with his wakizashi(shortened katana) He can also throw his grappling hook(just a hook on a chain, nothing too high tech.) accurately and could probably use it as a makeshift-last-resort weapon if the need be. He can be charming when he needs to be and has talked his way out of a couple of arrests. He knows little in the art of magicka besides a handful of basic healing spells and an equally basic knowledge pertaining to alchemy.

Clothing/Armor: Dandre wears a simple tunic interwoven with patches of dark leather on his chest and shoulders as well as a dark pair of breeches and a pair of shoes that muffles his footsteps.
Weapons: An Akavari styled wakizashi([img]https://encrypted-tb...MaUVKV7s_aX1-eQ[/img]) and a rope and hook grappling hook. A steel dagger he keeps in his boot as a backup weapon.
Misc: 25 lockpics and a journal. He carries his extra supplies(food, septims, etc.) in an over the shoulder rucksack. A "lucky" coin he wears around his neck on a chain.

Personality: Despite his rough looks, Dandre is actually rather light hearted an cheery. A fatalist at heart, Dandre worries little about weather his plans will succeed or fail because he believes that the results are predetermined by fate. He has faced death many times with a joking smile and a cheery wit. He almost always has a huge closed mouth grin on his face.
flaws: Dandre is a svcker for bets and his gambling problems have gotten him into plenty of trouble. He can also come across as annoying and slightly chauvinistic.

Background:Dandre's parents were fools. Thinking that they could make fortune in Morrowind the merchant family packed up and moved to the ruined province. What they found was hardship and hostility. When his father could no longer support his small family of three, he ran out on them to try to find a living without the burden of extra mouths to feed. Dandre had to steal to provide for his mother and himself. He learned the hard way how to become a thief. Every scar on his body is a testament to a mistake he made.

Dandre learned fast though, and for awhile all seemed well. His mother grew sick of brainrot, and Dandre watched as she deteriorated day after day until she finally passed on. The young Breton, only at the age of 14, began to travel Tamriel. He lived many adventures and came to acquire his trademark blade and lucky coin(which had stopped an arrow from piercing his thigh). He remained independent and refused the offers of the Thieves' Guild on many occasions. One day, Dandre heard of an offer he couldn't refuse. It was just too interesting, plus it sounded like he could bring in a fair amount of coin. So the Breton packed up his belongings and made way for Daggerfall.

Transformer
Meden Arvel -(Dunmer)

Spoiler

Name: Meden Arvel
Age: 28
Race: Dumner
Gender: Male
Height: 5'9 (175cm)
Birthsign: The Steed
Appearance: Thin and frail looking, with untidy medium length black hair, usually combed back. Bright red eyes and light grey skin.

Class: Mage (Illusionist)
Skills and spell-effects: Arvel is not a particularly powerful combat mage, having never had much interest in the school of destruction but he makes up for it with clever spells and tricks; He has plenty of illusion and alteration spells up his sleeves. Flashy spells and other party tricks are his speciality but those fun little spells turn very lethal and very scary when he is in combat. Whether it's using telekinesis to break bones and sever the spines of his enemies, or blinding his foes and turning them against each other; he is not a mage to be trifled with.

Clothing / armor: In contrast with his dirty hair, his clothes are of high quality; Leather boots, Dark brown trousers and a nice silk shirt hide under his simple novice robes. He has a thin black cloak as well.
Weapons: A few small daggers inside his cloak, not intended to be wielded but instead to be thrown at enemies using telekinesis.
Miscellaneous items: A backpack with a few spell books and some basic alchemy ingredients.

Personality: Light hearted and adventurous. He has a thirst for knowledge and a stronger thirst for quality mead. A scholar by nature he is unable to resist the temptation of exploring the unknown and gathering information on mysterious objects and events. He is a very quick thinker and an expert in sleight of hand.

Background: Grew up in Vvardenfel and studied with the telvanni for a bit before moving to Cyrodiil to join the mages guild. Wasn't terribly successful with the Guild but was very popular with the locals for his illusion charms and tricks. Arvel never had a great connection with his family, his father and sister manage a shop in Vvardenfel but he hasn't talked to either of them in years.

Minor characters (GorbadPS3):
Robentie "Rob" Genis -(Breton)

Spoiler

Name: Robentie Genis (called Rob)
Age: 30
Race: Breton
Gender: Male
Height: 5” 10’

Birthsign: The Serpent.
“The Serpent wanders about in the sky and has no Season, though its motions are predictable to a degree. No characteristics are common to all who are born under the sign of the Serpent. Those born under this sign are the most blessed and the most cursed.”

For Rob, the Serpent has bestowed upon him a unique resistance to poisons and illness, more potent than any Black Marsh resident's. His curse is, however, a significant drain of his magical talent. He has more than lost the innate magical prowess of Bretons in this field, to the point where he might as well wear a ring of silence without any loss.

Appearance:Rob is a regular, Breton male. He is slim and agile and of average height for his race. His eyes are dark and deep green, almost as if they are glowing from within. He has his black hair cut short.

Class: Acrobat
Skills: Running, climbing, jumping, falling.

Clothing: A set of leather armor, covering every inch of his body. No helmet. A trenchcoat.
Weapons: -

Background: It's comlicated.

______________________________________





How to post:

Spoiler

Put these as a title: Character name, location in beginning of the post and location at the end of the post, (time of day, if needed). I alone am titled to ignore this rule, buhaa. :cough:
For example,
McExample, The mansion - mages guild, midday.

Throw your post through a word document, clearing up all easy-to-make errors. Everyone gets typo's, no matter how good a writer you are.

Take into account what other characters have been doing and are doing when you post. No character controlling.

Post in the same time-line as other characters, unless it's absolutely necessary to do otherwise. A post should, however, end in the same time-line as other characters.

Have fun!

[Avril Churchill]

Daggerfall is a large city with connections to deep forests and tall hills to the north and east and a view to both the Illiac bay and the Eltheric Ocean in the south and south west. Various Daedric cults can be found in the mountains in the area and encountering a clan of vampire isn’t uncommon. Warlords with their cutthroat bandits and fierce marauders manage well enough around the city of Daggerfall and even inside the city itself. However, the fighter’s guild, together with the guards, manages to keep the streets blood-free and most criminal activity has moved underground. An impressive underground sewer and tunnel system makes for an ideal web for wanted men to hide in, including the thieves guild. Many libraries can be found in Daggerfall, both old and new, and one of the most impressive spell-tome specific libraries is run by the mages guild.

Should you look at the city from above, you’d see too many districts to count, all with their own piece of history and secrets. It would take more than a dozen arrow shots from one end to the other, picking up where the arrow landed, to reach the other side of the city. And that’s measured by the shot of a strong bowman, using a sturdy longbow.

In the city, the streets are sand colored and houses match this with their tile. Still, wooden structures can be found, and the city gains color from the fruit trees and berry bushes that grow within. A not too uncommon sight in the city is large mansions with their own front yard. These belong to rich nobles, sons and daughters to royalty, or in the case of the collector Qorindil, individuals with pure wealth and need for a grand house.

The mansion has a beautiful garden in the front yard, with a number of skillfully crafted stone tables and benches to gather in. Square shaped, shiny stones create a path through the garden like a snake, reaching a massive wooden door. Two gems float in the air next to the door, above black pillars. These gems serve as body-guards twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, four weeks a month and twelve months a year, without needing rest, food or, most importantly, gold in their pocket.

The mansion itself has a number of floors, which include the main floor with a dinner hall, greeting hall, kitchen and a number of staircases. The basemant is filled with false artifacts about to go for sale for profit, or just sitting there collecting dust. The second floor has your usual living room, a great number of bedrooms and more than one smaller common area to relax in. Most are filled with some sort of paintings or exotic furniture.

Qorindil’s study, a large room located in the upper floor at his mansion, is filled with glass displays with various items. Soul gems with small notes on them, describing what creature’s soul is within, dwemer centurion parts with rotating gyros, a small set of Ayleid statues, amongst many other things. A particular sight to see is a strange staff with a rose on its top. ‘The sanguine rose’, as it’s called, a Daedric artifact belonging to the Daedric prince of debauchery and passion of dark nature, is one of Qorindil’s most prized possessions. His father had valued the Ayleid quite a bit, but Qorindil has always been more interested in the Daedra.



Recently, Qorindil had read everything he could find about them and what he learned was fascinating. The princes had artifacts themselves, but for some reason he kept stumbling into these things called, “Fragments”, which were supposed to have scattered across all planes of Oblivion sometimes during the dawn era. What these fragments were, was still unclear to the altmer collector, but they were frequently associated with great power in the scrolls and tomes he’d read. Determined to find out more, he’d bought a large number of ancient texts, hoping to find out more. He and his relative Noryail, an old and powerful altmer conjurer with an almost unhealthy enthusiasm for all things Daedric, had begun to spread word about ’the relic hunt of the decade’ in Daggerfall, hoping it would spread all across Tamriel and to the attention of eager and capable mercenaries.


____________________________________________


The morning sun slowly took its rightful position high up on the sky, declaring a new day had begun in the city of Daggerfall. Some would wake up by the bright light, while others had already been working hard for hours. Then there were some that hadn’t even had the chance to sleep yet, keeping themselves busy all night long.

The large sacks of grey under Qorindil’s eyes were all the evidence you needed. He’d spent the whole night in his study, reading through all the ancient texts he’d bought. He sat at a large dark-brown desk of fine oak in his study, a number of damaged tomes, worn scrolls and dusty books scattered in a chaotic order around him. An empty silver pitcher of wine had been placed on the floor, a matching knocked-over goblet keeping it company. A single candle had been illuminating the ancient text, until the morning sun filled the room with bright light. The altmer collector closed the tome he was reading and yawned loudly, giving the silver pitcher a hopeful look. Alas, it was empty, and nothing in the world could change that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Qorindil was certain that Sanguine could’ve filled an empty pitcher with wine just like that. Oh what a handy power that would be!

Qorindil took a tired look at the calendar on the wall and suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen later today. A group of mercenaries, scholars, researchers and fortune-finders would arrive at the mansion, interested by ‘the relic hunt of the decade’. Sadly, Qorindil didn’t have much information on how they’d obtain these relics, but he was confident Noryail had come up with something. He was the master conjurer of the two of them, probably one of the most powerful conjurers in all of High Rock too.

Qorindil made the decision to stay in his study for a while longer, to get some sleep before all the dumb mercenaries would knock on his door. He hoped at least some of them would understand how huge this hunt could turn out to be, in another form of measurement than gold. Qorindil’s head had barely scratched the pillow before he fell asleep, the morning sun glaring angrily at him from the window, as if it was insulted by his complete lack of acknowledgement that it was morning in the grand city of Daggerfall.




Outside the manor, laying on one of the stone tables was Robentie ‘Rob’ Genis. An infamous thief who’d returned to Daggerfall three years ago. He was wearing a travel trench coat, which currently served as a blanket. Leather armor underneath completed his outfit. Short version of his story was this: A low-profile theft turning into a high-profile thief without him realizing it, then becoming wanted for a murder he didn’t commit. A brief escape and laying low outside Daggerfall cooled things down enough for him to return. He had to cut his hair, for the old style he’d used was quite a bit too recognizable. Qorindil has paid a nice sum for Rob’s services so far, and he’s been working for him over a year now.

The stone table was as good as any bed for Rob, and the satchel he was carrying wasn’t a bad pillow at all. The hard content blended well will with stone table. He was sleeping lightly, waiting for something to happen. Sure, he could climb up the wall of the mansion and straight into Qorindil’s study, but that seemed a bit rude. Approaching the door and knocking wasn’t a good idea either, for you never knew exactly what kind of spell effect those gems could cast on you. First, and only time, he’d approach the door without Qorindil’s presence had paralyzed him and caused an extremely powerful magical poison to slowly kill him. Luckily, Rob had been blessed by the Serpent birthsign, with complete immunity against all forms of poison. This had served him well in the past and had saved his life that day. Since then, he’d stayed clear of the door though. A magical frost spell would surely have ended his life, no matter how powerful his Bretonic resistance to magic might be.

Little did he know that a mixed bunch of adventurous individuals would step foot into the garden and visit Qorindil. He kept on sleeping, ignoring the sun’s persistent glare in the shadow of a pear tree.




Meanwhile, a few districts away from the mansion, Noryail was at an old public library. He’d woken early today, unable to sleep, and rushed to the library as fast as his three centuries old legs could carry him. It’s possible that he wouldn’t have made it without his enchanted staff, which he used efficiently as a walking stick.
The old library smelled like dust, parchment and ink, a damp odor that was impossible to avoid. To the altmer warlock, the library smelled like hidden knowledge. But he was pretty sure the large nord standing guard with an unpleasant look on his face had an entirely different opinion on the matter.

He’d spent most of the morning searching for something very specific, the subject of Sigil Stones, and had thus far gathered three books from shelves. It was hard to read in the bad light inside the library, so Noryail began his slow ascend to the floor above, where the reading quarters were. The sun was shining through the large windows, illuminating a perfectly circular room with a dome as roof.
It was, as he’d expected, completely empty. He seated himself at the desk nearest the staircase and opened the first book, ‘A lesson in Sigil Stones’. A few boring moments later he realized he’d already read this book, when, he wasn’t sure, but the book provided him with no useful information.

He set the book to the side and reached for the second book, ‘Sigil Stones and the Oblivion Crisis’. A long silent moment later, only interrupted by the sound of paper pages moving slowly against each other and a subtle wind outside, he closed the book with a smile on his face. The book had been rather useless at first, only pointing out things Noryail already knew, but the last chapter had been interesting. Sigil stones were quite rare before the Oblivion crisis, but after it there had been sightings of them all around Tamriel. Warlords seemed to keep them in their treasure chests, as highly valuable gems to be sold, Daedra worshippers might’ve gotten their hands on them, protecting outsiders from finding them and using them. These were good news indeed. Well, perhaps not the best news, considering they were highly valuable treasure and protected as such as well, but still good enough news that confirmed there were still many of them around. The tricky part was to actually locate them.

Noryail slowly made his way downstairs, returned the books to their shelves and began searching for a map of High Rock. Perhaps there was a detailed one in the library? If not, Qorindil might have to buy one from someone, perhaps even a fellow collector. Noryail knew how much Qorindil hated other collectors, but being in the business means it’s impossible to avoid them. He shrugged and began his search, hoping he’d find it before the mercenaries arrived at the mansion. Last thing they’d need was a dead mercenary who’d walk straight to the door and knock.

[Brandon Bernardi]

Uthoryan Wicksley, a luxurious inn -> Qorondils front yard garden, late morning

Uthoryan parted his eye lids as a narrow beam of sunlight hit his eyes, crawling from behind a gap between two velvet curtains that covered the windows of Uthoryans inn room. The nobleman rolled from his side to his back and stretched his arms, while letting out a lazy yawn. He rose from his bed, his fingers rubbing his eyes. Uthoryan walked slowly to a bowl of water, and cupped his hands as he slid them into the cool water. He then splashed some water to his face and neck, washing the last bits of tiredness away. Uthroryan also oiled his hair and sweeped it back, then brushed his thin mustache a bit to make sure they looked as he wanted them to look. After that, he opened a drawer of the counter on which the bowl was, and took his silk clothing and clad himself in it.

The Wicksley noble took time to make sure that the garment wasn't wrinkled or dirty in any way and to admire it as well. It didn't take him long to find his boots as well, though they were a bit more weathered, as they were his traveling boots. His eyes wandered to his set of steel armor that was at the time on a rack, and Uthoryan pondered if he should wear it instead of his clothing when he'd meet this altmer collector. He decided against it, but took his claymore, Horkers tusk, and fitted it so that the leather strap holding it on his back would not clash too badly with his garment. The swords sheath was tough leather, and had an actual horker tusk attached to it by tight and small leather straps.

Even though Uthoryan loathed to walk amongst the commoners of Daggerfall, he knew that a morning walk was one of the things that kept him in shape when he wasn't traveling. So the noble set on his way to this Qorindil and the altmers mansion. He had to stop frequently to ask for directions, but eventually reached his destination. Uthoryan found the garden he had walked into charming and pleasing to his eyes, save for someone Uthoryna perceived to be a filthy commoner on one of the stone tables. Uthoryan took a long way around that particular table, but soon stopped on his heels as he saw what framed the wooden door leading into the mansion. These sorts of floating gems weren't strangers to Uthoryan, and he knew better than to trod straight to them.

Uthoryan glanced around, weighing his options, and decided to seat himself in the garden, as far from the commoner as he could. There he sat, waiting for someone to come, while eyeing the other person in the garden with loathing.