[Amber Ably]

Jal, Hela's Folly, Morning

After washing, Jal went back to the inn. Outside, he saw a horse-drawn cart, drawn up outside the door. Three men stood around it. Two of the men were quite clearly guards, heavily armoured. The third man approached.

"Jal Wolfsbane?"

"Aye. Who's asking?"

The man looked Jal up and down. "I'm here on the behest of Mavan Black-Briar. We have your order, in exchange for payment."

"That was fast," Jal replied, somewhat taken-aback, "I wasn't expecting any shipments for at least another couple of days."

"We received your order last night and Mavan dispatched us immediately. We wouldn't want to let a you go thirsty, would we? Maven sees a very good business opportunity here. She also thought it prudent to include a few other supplies a venture like this," the man waved his hand at the inn, "may require." He finished.

"I see. May I take a look at the stock?"

"Certainly."

With some help from the guardsmen, Jal hauled himself onto the cart. There were several large kegs of, what Jal assumed to be, Black-Briar mead. There were also several barrels containing vegetables, cabbages, potatoes, onions, carrots and the like. Another barrel contained fresh meat, rabbit, chicken, fish. Jal raised his eye brows at the vast horde of goods.

"And how much will Maven be wanting for all this?"

"500 septims."

Jal nodded, it was a fair price and he wasn't in any mood to haggle right now. His mind was on other things. "Very well. Let me go and get the gold. Besides, its bloody freezing out here." Jal looked at the guardsmen. "My boy doesn't seem to be here yet. It is rather early for him. Can I convince you to unload this stuff for me? I'll give you a few coins for your troubles." The guards glanced at the third man who gave a brief nod, and they began un-loading the cart.

Jal walked quickly inside the inn, eager to get dry and out of the cold. The fire was still going and the inn was warm. He went upstairs and dressed quickly. He counted out 500 septims and put them into a coin purse before throwing his heavy, wolfskin cloak around his shoulders and clasping it together and the front. Back down stairs, Jal saw the guards hefting the large crates and kegs into the basemant.

The Orsimer black-smith entered the inn now, and waved at Jal in way of greeting.

"Good morning to you. Quite cold outside, eh? Say, I had the strangest dream last night.. I couldn't tell if it was the homebrew talking or witchcraft, so I thought I'd head over here to figure it out. Have you heard anything disturbing or out-of-place lately?"

"Disturbing? Well, maybe. Depends how you look at it, I guess. That Khajiit girl, she has a spear which she claims to be given to her by Hircine. I wouldn't trust it. The Gods don't dabble in our affairs unless for their own amusemant or their own gain ... " Jal paused, thinking about his own dream. The waking one as well as the sleeping one. He shook his head, before saying firmly, "don't pay no attention to dreams matey. Doesn't get you no-where."

[Janette Segura]

Hrefn the Raven, Fiona's study, Morning

Hrefn the raven swooped down to land on the Fiona Barrow-Heart's windowsill, and discovered with a suprised chirp that his mistress was laying face down and nvde in the centre of her study. Hrefn looked away, embarressed, and fluttered inside, trying not to look. He had found her in this sort of state more than once, smeared with a delicious-smelling ointment and laying quite comatose. He didn't like to think what she had gotten up to. One strange thing that Hrefn couldn't help but notice, was that Fiona's skin had been marked with hand prints, all of them a left hand, all over her body, in what appeared to be soot. The hand-marks where much bigger than Fiona's own hand, and appeared all over her body. Increasingly embarressed, Hrefn flew over Fiona's bed and picked up a sheet with his beak, carrying it over to draqe over his unconscious mistress. Dignity restored, he landed by her side and pecked Fiona very gently in the head until she woke up.

"Oh. Hello there feathery" she said doozily
Hrefn got halfway through cawing a response before he was interrupted.
"I had the most frightful dream."
Hrefn looked away, manifestly ashamed. The raven twitched his head and cawed questioningly
"Yes. In it a big cat came and gobbled you up" she said with a yawn, sitting up to stretch, the sheet falling over her lap.
Hrefn's reply-caw was even more amazed, and a little proud to be so important to his mistress.
"Not really. Vaermina did come calling...but the dreamsleeve was rather crowded last night..." She looked the black hands on her body, then back at Hrefn, and blushed visibly, withdrawing the sheet over her torso
"But nevermind that. You had something to say, darling?"


Jarl Spurvhauke, Gudslott Keep, Dawn

Jarl Spurvhauke had awoken in a cold sweat. Throughout most the night the Jarl's dreams had been peculiar in Valton in their mundane quality. Nightmares had tried to penetrate the old Jarl's mind, but each torture had fallen flat, and seemed nothing but a quaint distraction from reality to Jarl Spurvhauke. The first dawn choruses where being performed when Vaermina's curse finally found its way to his most melancholy of souls.

Radwulf sat up. His heart was thumping in his chest. He looked about his room, lit but a gentle orange haze. Chest heaving, he stared at the doorway, his body tensed as if ready to spring out and race down his hall this very moment. The vision of his night's final dream was still vivid in his eyes.

He had been standing, on the barrow that overlooked Valton hold, where his wife had been buried. But there was a new mound to its right, and a fresh gravestone. He was burying his son, and stood alone, taking both vigils. Radwulf Spurvhauke swallowed the false memory and looked out his window. He could see the barrow from here. One gravestone. He sighed in relief, a sigh too weary for a man of his age.

It was not long before Jarl Spurvhauke had himself fully dressed, lightly armoured and wearing a huge furred coat, his officer's sword in its hilt safe by his side. The Jarl cut an impressive figure in all his regalia. He was out for a walk. The chill didn't bother him so much any-more, looking at his Hold, slowly coming to life after a cold night, brought a small fire to his heart. He smiled, rather proud, as he watched the peasants go about their first business of the day. He passed the Orcan blacksmith, who he seeme to recall had left a rather good impression on him the one time that had met, and nodded politely at the Orismir as he headed into the inn. The Jarl stood a moment outside the inn and wondered if he was going to go inside. Radwulf laughed, chastising himself, and remembered the time of day. After the walk, he told himself.

Jarl Spurvhauke continued his expedition out down the main street of Valton, and turned east, taking the town's perimeter Something about all the hens and cattle the common folk of the Hold cept behind their cottages pleased him. Jarl Spurvhauke wondered where all these people had come from. Had they all suffered ills in their life, such as he? The Jarl supposed his Hold a refuge for the needy, but also an oppertunity for the brilliant and enterprising. He realised he was getting sentimental, and chastised himself, in the voice of his dead Wife.

Radwulf Spurvhauke looked up then, at the barrow that stood over Valton. With a dark sort of determiniation he took himself from the dirt path and crunched his heavy boots over the crystaline grass, climbing the steep barrow to visit his Wife.

Jarl Spurvhauke stayed quite a while on that hill. The thoughts he had there are best left private to him and his departed Wife. On his return to his Fortress, one thing did inspire some action in the Jarl. He saw one of his guard, still fully uniformed, lying in a drunken or otherwise hung-over heap, a little puddle of vomit seeped out from the grill of his Nordic helm. Something in this sight steeled the heart of Jarl Spurvhauke.

The next person to pass the entrance to the Great Hall would have noticed the following sign, also replicated on the doors of the Inn and Theadus' Shop:

POSITION REQUIRED:

CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD

AUTHORITARIAN PREFERED, EXPERIENCE NECESSARY

ENQUIRE DIRECTLY TO THE JARL

[lauraa]

Tsavani - Elarian's House - Morning
Tsavani sat up and stretched herself out as she woke up next to Elarian. A soft purr came through her yawn, happy to have had such a night after her years of isolation. To banish the wierdest nightmare she'd ever had (Something that involved sheep, a rapping whale, and furry WIERDNESS), she reflected back on the night... it had started innocently enough, with Elarian politely escorting her to his house, and providing her with lavish, generous hospitality.

Sitting on the bed, she chuckled at how everything played out the previous night - Over a bottle of wine offered wine (She didn't mean to drink the entire thing by herself!), they traded a number of stories about their pasts, with Tsavani talking about some of the more memorable days in her isolation and operation of the inn - a number of stories worth telling about prior to her hermitage, after it, and during the hunt. In turn, she enjoyed several stories of Elarian's previous mercenary-work jobs. As the night wore on, the wine loosened Tsavani up significantly, leading to a number of amusing stories that could be told some other time to a different audience. She took a deep breath as she continued to mentally replay the previous night... He'd given her a nice, scented bubble-bath after the wine was gone, and more stories were told. it washed out the sulpherous odor from the hotsprings of her previous bath that day, and between his assistance and the privacy of the house, she was cleaned more thoroughly. She could still smell the soft, sweet scent of the fragrant bath additives even this morning.

"Are you awake?" she asked, turning to look at the still-snuggled Dark Elf. "Thanks for everything last night... Even I didn't know how much I needed it, though I trust you'll be discreet." However, as she made up her mind to stand up and take care of her morning needs, she felt an uncomfortable, damp warmth along her legs. A string of mental curses filled her mind as she jumped out of bed, surveying the size of the dark stain against the bed where she'd been sleeping. A string of regrets horrified her - Why did she not have the foresight to find somewhere to relieve herself after drinking so much wine before she fell asleep? Alchohol, years of isolation from society's norms, and a need to keep herself warm at night all conspired against her to make the bed into a mess, and her into a fool.

Tsavani quickly broke down into a mess of apologies toward her host, and curses toward herself. "Sorry, sorry, sorry... how can I make up for this mess? I didn't mean too do it and I guess askingtoborrowasparesetofclothesfortodayisnow outofthequestiontoo." Apparently, she'd never be able to stop smelling like her own piss.

[Ebou Suso]

Elarian, at his home in the morning



Elarian was pulled out of a far from dreamless sleep by Tsavani's voice. Which was a welcome relief as he had rlived some of the most unpleasant episodes of his lengthy mercenary career, but made even worse in the dreams. Feeling himself die trapped under the wreckage of a burning house had been amongst the worst, his resistance to heat and fire making it longer than it would have been for a non dunmer.

He stretched himself with a yawn, memories flowing about the night. Which went roughly according to his planning, Tsavani had been a fairly enthusiast partner once loosened up with some wine. That's when an unpleasant scent reached his nostrils. It's origin was quickly revealed as Tsavani launched into a barrage of apologies. Luckily the damage had been limited to her side of the bed, keeping his mood from getting too sour.

Elarian nonetheless gave the khajiit a very dark glare, his face freezing in mask of reprobation that had send more than a few fresh mercenaries into an almost panic. Though as he eyed Tsavani his anger recessed. Helped by the fact that a century of dubious lodgings had driven him to learn and refine some fairly unusual spells.

Elarian faced the bed, speaking a short incantion and passing his over it. A rain of greenish white sparkles dropped from his hand, spreading over the bed before vanishing in a flash. Leaving the sheet and the underlying mattress completely clean and dry. “Since I have ways to repair damage, I won't kick you out. And I'm even willing to get you some clothes. But you will have to merit them.” His voice grew stern “ Since it seems you have troubles with basic cleanliness, that's going to be your first lesson. A thorough cleanup with a bristle brush sounds like a good start. I won't bother with melting some snow, so you're getting off easy.” He paused, his tone mellowing a bit “After that, a little bit of exercise will help you to get you dry.”


He gave her a very nasty grin “your first lesson in spear handling. I'll check how good your defense is. You deserve a thorough spanking, but this will be a bit more dignified, and the bruises won't be all in the same place. I think that should be enough of a sanction. Oh and of course, you're not going to sleep in my bed before that sort of incidents cease to happen. I feel in a generous mood, so you'll be allowed straw and blankets.”

[louise tagg]

Nellis Nelsh, around town.

Walking out the inn with heavy feet, Nellis Nelsh began his walk to the keep. He saw other residents, and they too needed sleep. Nightmares had affected the whole town. As he walked, he saw a man. He did not know it was the jarl, but the clothes the man wore revealed his higher status. Nelsh took off his hat, and looked towards the man, and bowed, ready to say a morning greeting.

"Ae Ghartok Padhome Chim Ae Altaddon." said Nellis.
The words from his dream.
He was speaking them now.

Covering his mouth, he looked towards the jarl with pleading eyes. He needed to apologize right then and there.

"Ae Herma Mora Altadoon Padhome Lkhan Ae Ai." he said.
Even more words from his dream. He was saying them again.

Nervous laughing started to emit from the hapless nords mouth. He had to string together words. One's that made sense.

"Nede....where is half elf? She who beats Doom Drum. Mage of your land. Nellis Nelsh need ask of her. Questions. Answers." Nellis said. He was shaking violently, unable to keep still.

He could barely string together the previous sentence, and when he tried to speak, everything was broken. Words were swapped, some added out of nowhere. "Breton" became "Half Elf", "I" became "Nellis Nelsh", "Nord" became "Nede".

Out of his control, he added more words. He did not want to say them. He felt as if a Daedra was in possesion of his mind and actions.

"Lorkhan. Numdium. Sithis."

[luke trodden]

Jarl Spruvhauke, Gudslott Keep, Morning

Jarl Spurvhauke listened to the Nellis' babbling with a concerned look on his face. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he had philosophised on his hold being a haven for the needy. There was something disturbing in the way the fish-lipped Nord talked, and the Jarl's immediate thoughts where to send him to the Temple for healing. Then Radwulf picked up the word "mage", and a cog turned in his mind. Fiona. He thought immediately, This must be her doing.

"Look now, um, fellow" he said uneasily, not quite sure how he should go about addressing one of his new citizens, "Fiona Barrow-Heart didn't make you drink anything, did she? Or..put on an amulet? For Talos' sake, I'm terribly sorry" he mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed at bringing a Court-Mage here at all, let alone one as exotic as Fiona Barrow-Heart. "You should probably go up and see her" the Jarl pointed a large, stubby hand in the direction of the mage's tower, which was accessed through the side of the Great Hall, "She lives up there. By Dibella's [NUMMIT], if that witch has been experimenting on my subjects I'll have that raven of her's served as Bird Pie to the whole court.." he mumbled to himself, clenching both fists either side of him, and wandering off in a fit of frustration.

[Amanda Furtado]

Nellis Nelsh, Gidslott Keep, Morning

The jarl pointed towards the tower where Fiona was. His tone expressed much worry, and Nelsh felt he may have been taken away to the temple and killed for his mad rambling. Smiling, he looked at the jarl.

"Nellis Nelsh is not like this all of time. Dreams. No, not dreams. Nightmares of evening. They confuse Nellis. Break his sense. Speech is broken. Fiona, she who beats doom drum, she knows how to fix, yes? She is wise player of Doom-Drum. She must fix Nelsh's speech. Mind thinks clear, but words come out in fragments. Words Nellis has no knowledge of come out. Nelsh go find Barrow-Heart. She fix Nellis. Yes?" the confused nord said.

He felt bad that this was his first encounter with the Jarl, as he felt he had ruined the Jarl's first thoughts. Speaking madness like a Sheogorath worshipper? That was not the way to impress one of such social status. When he could speak in a clear way, Nellis would go and see the jarl again. He went through the keep, saying things to himself.

"Hin Dovah Drey Dwiirok Faal Jul. Your Dragon did carve the man. Heim Hin Lein. Forge your World. Geh, Dov Drey. Yes, dragonkind did." he said.

Nellis had never spoken the tongue of dragons. He was no dragonborn, but knowledge was attacking his mind. He climbed the stairs to Fiona's tower, and spoke again.

"Volsung. Morokei, Glorious. Vokun, Shadow. Krosis, Sorrow. Otar. Hevnoraak, Brutality. Rahgot, Anger. Nahkriin, Vengeance."

Saying the names of the ancient Dragon Priests and their translations made him sweat with worry. How did he know all this? Why did he receive this useless knowledge? He laid his hand on Fiona's door, and stood there.

He was stuck. Paralyzed.

"KONAHRIK! WARLORD!" he yelled as he felt the spell creep threw his body.

[Roisan Sweeney]

Fiona Barrow-Heart, her study, Morning


Fiona popped her head from out of her cauldron as she heard the trap spell go off. Last nights goo had been replaced by water ready fetched from the kitchen Fiona had imbued with a fizzling salt. Fiona had been trying to remove the black hand-marks on her body all morning, scrubbing away, wittling bar after bar of sload soap to nothing. She had managed to remove the print on her face and the two on her briast but had barely faded the one one her belly. Fiona threw the soap rather lazily on the floor and stepped out of the person-sized cauldron, shaking her hair and drying it with a rag. Fiona walked at a leisurely pace towards the door and peered through the keyhole. Nellis Nelsh was standing there stupidly, paralyzed on the spot. Fiona laughed and walked away from the door, drying herself off and went to her wardrobe to choose what to wear. This took some time. At length she picked a crimson dress she was particularly fond of (a bit more sultry than yesterday's frumpy robes), and slipped it on, in no hurry to do the thing up. She knew her guest would be patient (he had little choice).

About half an hour after he had been struck by the spell, Nellis found a very fresh looking Witch open the door in front of him. Fiona smiled, that slightly too-energetic smile of hers, and flicked her wrist casually, dispelling the paralysis.

"Hello there. Do come in! Awfully sorry about the trap, completely passed my mind I'd left it on the lock..please make yourself at home" she gestured at a chair, leading Nellis in "I did adore what you did to that boorish elf yesterday.." she turned around, gesturing at the door to close behind Nellis (which it did politely), and lent against the still bubbling cauldron, grinning at Nellis.

[cutiecute]

Nellis Nelsh, Fiona's Tower, Morning The nord was left standing for what seemed like a entire Kapla when the witch unlocked the door. She was dressed in a fine red robe. Apologizing for the trap, she ended the paralysis spell. Leading Nelsh into her chamber, she shined a energetic smile and complimented the nord on his actions towards the Thalmor battlemage.

Nelsh's checks began to turn red at this point. Despite being coming off a tad eccentric, as many magic users are, the witch was strangely mystifying. He needed to be careful though. Back in the day's when Vivec was still a god, many a nord was seduced by witches, and then stripped nvde, left without anything of value. Tensed by these legends, yet calmed by Fiona's allure, he took a seat. With his mind less tense, he was able to speak clearly now.

"I need to speak to you about something. I'm not sure if you can help, but I feel like you may the only one who would understand." he said. Suprised at the cleariness in his words, he smiled, but then focused his mind back the matter at hand. "You see, last night I had a very odd dream. More a nightmare really. A man with white eyes and hair was having a tea party. His suit was most odd, one half purple, the other half red. He was a most jovial fellow, and all he said seemed to be insanity. The odd thing was, you, the Thalmor from yesterday, the nvde khajiit, and myself were all at that table where he sat. Everyone spoke in some odd language I have never heard before. When the mad man in the reglia left, the dream took a turn for the worse. Tsavani had a inn build around her, and you started beating a drum with many other mages. Valramo covered his ears in pain from the beats, and then turned into a Lich." the nord with the fine hat said.

He took his hat off. His brow was covered with cold sweat, his mind feeling strained. Taking in a deep breath, he spoke about the worst part of the dream. It hurt his pride to talk about it in front of this beautiful Reach-woman, but he needed to get his point across.

"Horker's began to attack me, but I was able to repel them with words. Not of the Voice, like the greybeards use. Rather, these words confused me greatly, as I have never heard them before. The first phrase was AE GHARTOK PADHOME CHIM AE ALTADOON. The second phrase was AE HERMA MORA ALTADOON PADHOME LKHAN AE AI. These words killed the horkers, and destroyed the island. I was floating in a dark void next, when a void that called itself Sithis spoke to me. It demanded blood from it's childern, then crushed me when I said I was not one of it's spawn. The scene changed to that of a massive statue of brass, fading in and out of time. Finally, the dream shifted to the same mad man from earlier in Soltitude. He was dancing in the inards of it's citzens, and began to sing like a redguard woman when dogs fell out of the sky."

Taking another deep breath, he looked at the witch. She was likely thinking that Nellis was overreacting from his dream.
He had not mentioned what he said to the Jarl.


"I brushed this off as a side effect from to much mead, but I saw a man in quite fine clothes walking today. I believe him to me the Jarl, and when I spoke to greet him, the phrases from my dreams came out! I had to fight to even string together a poorly worded sentence, and he looked at me like I was sick! I mentioned the name Sithis again, and something called Lorkhan and Numdium. As I walked up your stairs, I started speaking some other language. Hearing the word Dovah in it, I believe it to be the dragon language. But it was not shouts or the Thu'mm. Just mad words that I had no control over. I'm suprised I'm even able to speak to you without everything being in odd fragments." Looking towards the witch with a pathetic look on his face, he spoke.

"I don't know what is going on, but I fear for my very sanity. Do you know what any of it means? Or have I truly gone mad?"

[Charleigh Anderson]

Fiona Barrow-Heart, her study, Morning

Fiona perched herself on a wooden stool oppesite Nellis and listened to what he had to say. The witch did not interrupt at any point, staying strickly quiet, but her face told a story, her features heavily animated with emotion.

She nodded politely and smiled as Nellis indicated she was the only one he felt would understand. She leant in and listened to his story in good spirits. Despite, or perhaps because of all the strange happenings of the night and the unhappy news her Hrefn had brought, Fiona was in a good mood today. The company of the fish-lipped, dimwitted Miner seemed positively delightful to Fiona at the present moment. By about lunchtime her usual disdain for humanity would have returned.

The presence of Sheogorath (for the desciption must surely be of the Prince of Madness) in the strange Nord's dream interested her, and her expression showed it. Sheo was not the most common subject of one of Vaermina's projections. Most Princes, Fiona had noticed, tended to keep their distance from the Mad One. Conversely, why would Sheogorath choose to disturb Nellis through the Vaermina? Where the two in collusion?

Fiona's eyes widened at the mention of herself in the dream. Drums? What has this Nord been reading? Though the picture of Valarmo withering into a skeleton from her Covern's drumming, the more Nellis Nelsh spoke, the more trouble the witch became.

It was when Nellis spoke in Ehlnofex that Fiona's demenour changed completely. She sat bolt upright, and studied Nellis' every word. She seemed almost nervous. She had to laugh when the fish-lipped Nord spoke of dogs raining from the sky, as it broke some of the tension.

Fiona looked about abit, and messed with her hair, tangling it idly, and turned to face Nellis just as he finished speaking, her powerful mind working in overload to process all this information. At length she smiled absently, and, still twirling her auburn hair around one finger, began to answer.

"These words,..this, ah, knowledge you speak of. Have you ever read of it before? Perhaps in a historial pamplett about the history of the elves, or of the Reach o-or some literature regarding the Dovah, the Dragons? Have you learnt of these things before? And the man, dressed in the purple-red suit? Have you seen him before? Did he seem familar to you? Perhaps you saw a statue of him once?" she leant in as she spoke, hazel eyes lighting up. Everything hinged on Nellis' response, and the passionate look on the mage's face showed it.

[Roddy]

Nellis Nelsh, Fiona's Tower

"These words,..this, ah, knowledge you speak of. Have you ever read of it before? Perhaps in a historial pamplett about the history of the elves, or of the Reach o-or some literature regarding the Dovah, the Dragons? Have you learnt of these things before? And the man, dressed in the purple-red suit? Have you seen him before? Did he seem familar to you? Perhaps you saw a statue of him once?" said Fiona. Her eues were lit up with interest, and the nord was proud that he was able to catch her attention.

Shrugging, Nellis spoke.

"I met a man like the insane one in my dream. A breton, and a rather odd one. Said his name was Shamous the mad, and he went on and on about the taste of various races, wines, and cheese. Wore some fancy clothes, like what a steward would wear. When he sensed some badnit's nearby, he stripped down to just a loin cloth, and then went charging in, burning his foes, summoning wolves, and then swinging a greatsword like a mad beast. He looked a lot like this jovial fella in my dream. Said he blinded his eyes and turned his hair white to look like someone he called 'The Prince of Madness'. Don't know much about elven cultures, Daedra, or the language of Dragons. Only heard of the tales of the Dragonborn, that the Daedra love to mess with mortals. and that Dwarves worked with Brass. I have no idea of the source of these words. Afraid I don't read up much on the Mer. Mainly stick to nord tales. Have read up a bit on the tales of the reach. Just wrong what happened to your people." the nord said. After this long winded explanation, he felt like he could go for some water.

"Also, if it helps, at one after that crazy fellow left the dream, everyone was naked. Except the Khajiit. She got a dress, and then a inn built itself around her. If I remember correctly, she used to run an Inn."

[Adam Baumgartner]

Fiona Barrow-Heart, her study, Morning

Fiona Barrow-Heart lent back on her seat, looking almost disapointed, and placed her hands on her lap. She svcked in her cheeks and looked past Nellis, attention caught at a beetle that was climbing her wall for a second or two. Most of the information seems to have a seed somewhere in the ridiculous's Nord's mind, she thought, which does little for the theory that the fool was being read from the pages of the Oghma Infinium. More likely the hand of the Mad One. But this is eccentric even for him she decided. By the time Nellis Nelsh had finished his story and made his final remarks, the witch's mind was put mostly at rest and she answered slowly, softly, and quite without thinking, still watching that bug. There where two of them now.

"You've never seen me naked though, so there must be some imagination in your dreams." she said quite out of context, looking back at Nellis with an empty expression, "Most of what you've said seems to have a seed somewhere in your knowledge. Sheogorath, the Prince of Madness must have gotten into you and twisted what you know. Yes. That must be it" Fiona didn't much like the alternative. In a lifetime of study, worship and blood-letting in the name of the Princes Daedric, she had never once been contacted in person by Hermaeus Mora. The thought of this...man being touched by the Prince of Apocrypha before she had been made her blood boil.

"But those words..the first ones..AE HERMA MORA ALTADOON PADHOME LKHAN AE AI..GHARTOK PADHOME CHIM AE ALTADOON" her voice echoed as she intoned the sacred words, a seriousness ill befitting of the witch taking her as she spoke them, "those are old words. Powerful words." she looked at the fish-lipped Nord with a wary smile, "The sort of words a younger me was willing to commit a lifetime locked in a library to try and catch even the faintest meaning of. I don't know why Sheogorath would dare to put those words in your head. Normally I would advise ignoring anything you find yourself thinking after commune with the Mad Prince ..but if you find any more strange phrases escaping your lips, I want you to write them down, or memorise them, if you can" she added rather incredulously, her face a stony mask of seriousness now. "They may interest me" she said almost as a threat eyes, lighting up impossibly.

[Olga Xx]

Nellis Nelsh, Fiona's Tower, Morning

"What? You want me to write down these maddening words, see if I can memorize them? Do you know what I am dealing with? My mind is being used a play thing for the prince of madness! And the way your talking, it sounds like a prince of forbidden knowledge is using my mind as his canvas!" yelled out Nellis.

He stood up, throwing his hat the ground. Anger was filling him now, similar to when he met Valramo. He looked at Fiona, and yelled.

"I am not the play toy of the gods! I am a simple miner! I am Nellis Nelsh, simple miner, bane to horkers, murderer of lazy guards! I refuse to be the plaything of some immortal childern that have the nerve to call themselves Princes!" he said in a tone full of rage. His eyes were begining to glow now, a unnatural color of green. Wrapping his arms around Fiona's shoulders, he increased the grip.

"AE HERMA MORA ALTADOON PADHOME LKHAN AE AI! SECRET KNOWLEDGE IS THE WEAPON OF PADOMAY!' he said. His eyes were glowing brighter now, and he bent downward with Fiona. Like a twisted dance, the two moved as one, with Nelsh's eyes burning green, and words with out of sanity coming from his very soul.

"FAAL MOROEKI FEN FUNT! THE GLORIOUS SHALL FAIL!
FAAL KREIN FEN EVENAAR! THE SUN SHALL EXTINGUSH!
HIN JOOR HUN FEN LIIV! YOUR MORTAL HERO SHALL WITHER!
VOKUL LEIN FENT DIR! EVIL WORLD SHALL DIE!"

With these last words, the light began to die from the nords eyes. He saw his hands were laid over the witch's shoulders, and he quickly moved them away. He put his hands on the side of his head, and much worry emitted from his face. Turning his gaze to the reach-woman, he spoke in a broken voice.

"What did I do? What is happening to me?"

[jodie]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, the inn, morning

A group of men had began unloading crates of goods in the inn, fine black-briar mead, vegetables and meat. He listened as Jal spoke.
______________________
"Disturbing? Well, maybe. Depends how you look at it, I guess. That Khajiit girl, she has a spear which she claims to be given to her by Hircine. I wouldn't trust it. The Gods don't dabble in our affairs unless for their own amusemant or their own gain... don't pay no attention to dreams matey. Doesn't get you no-where."
______________________
Gorbad wasn't entirely convinced that these dreams were unimportant, but it was clear Jal didn't know more than he did so he replied:
"Well, if you do hear anything, come see me. I'll be at my forge finishing the iron shipment for the shop-keeper." He waved good-bye and walked out of the inn.

It wouldn't take many hours to complete the iron-set now. He double-checked that he had enough iron and lether left and began hammering again.

[Adam Porter]

Tourmund,Middle of Valton

He was walking toward the inn,but soon as he arrived he saw a cart from Riften and Jal paying them suddently he realized he could not go drinking like that,his money wouldnt last forever.
-Well you could make a deal with me!I give you the money but you...
-Shut up!
-How rude.
As he walked he saw one of the guards,a green boy that almost couldnt hold his sword right.Even as I am now I could spilt his head,as easily as a melon.Then an idea came to his mind,Who better than an ex legionare that fought in the great war,to teach themHe nedded to find the Jarl.He did not have to walk much he saw him at the keep entrance talking to a mad miner.Maybe he has one of them in his head as well.He approached the Jarl and said:
-Jarl do you want to make a deal?I can train your guard and you give me money.
What was he saying.
-You see, you are beginig to talk like me!Ha hah !
-Pardon Jarl I meant I would like to applie as a trainer to those fresh guards.I fought with the legion on the great war,I have a fair deal of experience.

[Joe Alvarado]

Fiona Barrow-Heart, her study, Morning

Fiona stayed silent as the ridiculous man was overtaken by dark magicks and grabbed at her. She gathered magicks in both hands just in case, but her attention was taken by the unnatural glow in his eyes and the strange content of his speech. Well there's no doubting it now...

As the spell broke, and Nellis' shoulders dropped pathetically, Fiona's mood changed too and she approached him, placing a hand on the side of his head. All of a sudden her demeanour became motherly and caring as if this violent outburst had warmed Nellis to her heart.

"Now now, calm yourself, it's okay" she said soothingly, but rather disingeniously, - as she spoke she was already casting a charm of Calm Humanoid on Nellis Nelsh. "Something was using you as a conduit. Those were old words, old, forgotten words. The thing that is speaking through you isn't dangerous, all it can do is fill your head with strange knowledge." she said softly, smiling her most reassuring smile, laying her hand on his brow as if to check his temperature, as she wove more magicks to constrict his mood, "Now this may sound funny, but you shouldn't think of this as a curse, but as a blessing. It may just be that at second Champion has arrived in Valton" she said, hiding her glee, "now the next time it happens, I don't want you to panic..try and just listen" she said unhelpfully, brushing his hair as if he where her child, "that last voice sounded like a very angry Dragon, didn't it? Now remember that Dragons if they ever did exist, died out centuries ago, so that must have been a message from the past. See yourself as like a historian with a special power. Yes, thats it. A blessing" she inwardly beemed, feeling like today had brought her the most wonderful new toy.


Jarl Spurvhauke, Gudslott Keep, Morning

The Jarl sized Tourmund up. Though the Nord's initial address had displeased him, there was no doubting this man was ex-Legion and had fought in the Great War. Jarl Spurvhauke smiled, feeling that small pang of Camaraderie he always felt when he met another veteran. Possibly a bit too unruly to be a Captain, but he always needed good men...

"Ex-Legion, eh? Great War, you say? What legion where you with. What was your rank?" he asked warmly, never-the-less that old military tone of voice returning to him. From the rough look of the man, Radwulf guessed the Legion hadn't made him an officer, though by the scars on him it looked like Tourmand and fought the Battle of Red Ring singlehandedly.

[Michael Russ]

Tourmund,Valton
Tourmund realized the Jarl was a veteran aswell,and he had pardoned him for his tone.
-I was not an officer,thats true,but I fought neverthless.I was only a boy an my father came to put me in the legion.No better time he had.Me and my contingent were commanded to stay in the imperial city,we got out of the city.And at the battle of the red ring I fought in the third line.Lost my eye and my father there.I have a deal of experience.

[Adam Baumgartner]

Jarl Spurvhauke, Gudslott Keep, Morning

The Jarl's eyes narrowed when he heard Tourmund's story. He placed a hand on the Nord's shoulder and look at him solemnly.

"Red Ring..ah..I was at that battle, in General Decianus attachment. I...didn't fight on the front line like you did, kinsman, but I saw the carnage with my own two eyes. I'm sorry for your loss. I lost a few good friends myself that day." at this the Jarl looked down and nodded, that dark cloud of melancholy descended over him again. "You have a home here if you want it, kinsman. I'm sure you can show some of these welps what Legion discipline is like, eh?" he laughed and patted Tourmund on the shoulder. Radwulf thought to himself he was quite good at being jovial, when the mood took him, and was pleased with himself. Then his mind turned to his dear wife, who always used to chide him for such sentimentality, and tease the young Captain that one day he'd end up like one of those insufferable Legion veterans, twirling their moustache and reminisincing on battles they were never really a part of. Jarl Spurvhauke grimaced, nodded again and patted the man once more on the shoulder.
"Go speak to my son in the Fort. Tell him that you are the new drill-master, and you are here to whip the boys into shape. He'll sort you out with quarters and some Valton regalia. Don't go easy on them now!" Jarl Radwulf smiled rather disingenuously, and nodded in the direction of the barracks.

[Zach Hunter]

Tourmund,Valton
He smiled at the Jarl and said:
-Thank you I will begin working right now.
He walked toward the fort and spoke with the Jarl son.After that he headed to the training yard and divided the boys in two groups.He wanted to see what they were capable of.He began training their blocking and so he spent the rest of the morning.

OOC:I did not put his conversation with the Jarl son because he is LW character

[Dawn Farrell]

Nellis Nelsh, Fiona's Tower

As the meek nord felt defeated, Fiona was there to comfort him. She told him to keep calm the next time he had one of his.....outbursts. She went on about how Nellis was acting as a speaker for some thing, and that this knowledge would not hurt him. Ignorant of the fact the witch was casting a calm spell on him, he was perked up when she said that the knowledge coming to him should be taken as a blessing. As she brushed his hair with her hands and laid her hand on his forehead, he felt like all the his problems were fading away.

Granted, the witch was weaving enough calming magic into his body to make a dragon sleep like a dog on a man's lap, but regardless of this, he still felt blissful. Moving away from the pretty Reach-woman, he picked his hat up off the ground. Looking towards her, he spoke in a flat tone, due to the clam spell.

"I shall listen to you Fiona. Perhaps this knowledge could be used for the better. If not, at least it is something to keep me from getting bored. Could translate these words as a hobby. But, you have not seen me talk to the jarl. As I have said, when I spoke to him, nonsensical words came out. And as you just saw I yelled out those insane words. I need something to prevent me from having scenes like that in public. I will take anything you have to help me. I don't care if it's a amulet, a potion, if it can help, I will take it. Your the only one I know who can help."

In his calmed state, Nellis showed little care. His manner of speech was quite the Thalmor justicar he hated so. Hopefully his scenes would not get the attention of Valramo.....

[Danny Blight]

Fiona Barrow-Heart, her study, Morning

Fiona svcked on her lip and thought hard. Luckily she had a lot of time to think, as in his current state Nellis was once again not going anywhere. The magicks that are being worked on this ridiculous Nord, thought the witch, are far beyond my comprehension, let alone my influence. But I mustn't let him know that. There must be something... Fiona looked about thoughtfully and walked over to her desk, scurrying through her drawers, an idea coming to her. The witch gave a triumphant gasp and produced a silver ring, holding it high in the light before twirling her dress around and presenting the object to Nellis.

"Here you go, dear. I didn't think I'd ever find a use for this" she said brightly, placing the small, unremarkable looking ring in Nellis' palm and closing it with both her hands, "It is enchanted with a curse of Silence. Slip it on and you will be quite unable to speak. If you feel the voices rising up and you don't want to start babbling, just put this on your finger." she smiled enthusasitically, quite proud of her resourcefulness. "There might be, ah, some other, positive enchantment on it. I'm terribly sorry but I can't remember what it is, only that the curse is of Silence. The ring is an old one, from High Rock, back when unskilled enchanters used to counter positive magical effects with negative ones, in order to get more out of the Soul Gem. Quite silly, really, but rather quaint, don't you think?" she batted her heavily-inked eyelashes and looked at Nellis's blank expression, starting to wonder how much of this he was taking in, "Ah, anyway. You can use this whenever you are in public, but really I must say you mustn't see this as too much of a curse. You never know, it might turn out to be a gift." she squeezed Nellis' fist that held the ring, and turned away back to her desk, the witch's powerful mind finding much enjoyment in imagining all the novel experiments she would be able to perform on Nellis Nelsh later.

[Susan]

OOC: I'm on mobile so I'm only able to do text, so no colors or other fancy things...

Tim the guard: The inn

Tim seemed to bust into the inn, as if his feet were lighting, he saw the jarl and said

"Excuse me Jarl, but their is a dunmer waiting for you at the keep he wanted to see you!"

money had always done crazy things to Tim, who was he to be demanding things of the jarl

[Damien Mulvenna]

Jarl Spurvhauke, Helas' Folly Inn, Morning

The Jarl of Valton was rather pleased with himself after a busy mornings work. His walk had lifted his spirits, and putting out notices for a new Captain of the Guard made Jarl Radwulf feel like he had really done something for his Hold. Though the sight of that poor fool babbling had disturbed him, Jarl Spurvhauke was at least put at rest by the thought he had sent him to his Court-Mage. If she was the one that caused it or not, Fiona Barrow-Heart would know what to do. Quite an amazing woman thought the Jarl even if she does have a heart made out of Ebony. Jarl Radwulf shrugged and decided that never-the-less, she seemed an expert in the Arcane. Probably, yes, no most definitely the best woman for the job. Good work! Jarl Spurvhauke's unusually good spirits where painting his actions in a positive like for once; the melancholy Jarl was almost smiling as he headed out of his hall and headed down to the town's new inn, for that drink he had promised himself earlier. Jarl Spurvhauke looked around the Inn, quite content, and had almost made it to the bar when a guard crashed in through the door and called for him. Jarl Radwulf sighed bitterly and turned, immediately recognising the bumbling guard as the one he had found sleeping on the job, in a disgraceful heap not an hour ago. The Jarl's blood began to boil.

"Excuse me Jarl, but their is a dunmer waiting for you at the keep he wanted to see you!"

"Yes. Very Good. I'll be there right away." he said gruffly, heart sinking, and turned away from the bar. The drink would have to wait.

Thus it was that when the Jarl of Valton approached Xerces, waiting on the steps of Fort Gudslott, he was his usual, miserable self, polite manner barely masking the impenetrable gloom that followed Jarl Radwulf Spruvhauke wherever he went.

[saxon]

Nellis Nelsh, Fiona's Study, Morning

The witch went up to find something that would fulfill his request. Nellis watched with curious eyes as she walked and grabbed what looked to be a ring. As the witch walked back to him, a image came to his head. It was that of Valramo, creeking open a smile. However, a Dragur entered the vision after him. Six of them, no less. They drew swords and attacked him. When the battlemage fought back, his spells and his sword passed threw their bodies. Before long, they were able to knock him down, and they feasted upon his flesh. A dragon priest came after them, and they all bowed to the Lich. No mask covered it's rotted skin, and the eyes let loose a blue light brighter than a light house.

"Mortal. You dare ask to silence my word? What a grand and intoxicating innocecne!" said undead creature, with a deep and heavy voice all to similar to the bane of Morrowind, Dagoth Ur.

"Here you go, dear. I didn't think I'd ever find a use for this." Fiona said. With her words anchoring Nellis's focus back to reality, he looked at her with the utmost attention.

"It is enchanted with a curse of Silence. Slip it on and you will be quite unable to speak. If you feel the voices rising up and you don't want to start babbling, just put this on your finger." said the Reach-woman. These words brought a smile to the nord's face. He did not know much about magic, but he was smart enough to know that Silence spells stopped a mage from casting spells. It also prevented sound from the mouth, and this detail is what excited Nellis Nelsh.

The leader of the dragur in his vision was less than pleased. With the accent of a snooty Bosmer, it spoke.

"And you think that will be enough? I will find a way to Dispel this magic. My words shall be spoken!"

"There might be, ah, some other, positive enchantment on it. I'm terribly sorry but I can't remember what it is, only that the curse is of Silence. The ring is an old one, from High Rock, back when unskilled enchanters used to counter positive magical effects with negative ones, in order to get more out of the Soul Gem. Quite silly, really, but rather quaint, don't you think?" said the witch. Nellis did not know much about enchantments, but apparently, the Dragon Priest did. With a smile, it's voice changed to that of calm Dunmer.

"You foolish living. Always thinking that you were masters of the arcane. Ha! The Atmoran dragon cult knew all magic, all magic that will be, and all magic that has been. I could make a boot that does twice the amount of silencing, have the other boot give the wearer stronger skin like that of stone, and make them both levitate the owner up to the height of a giant!"

"Ah, anyway. You can use this whenever you are in public, but really I must say you mustn't see this as too much of a curse. You never know, it might turn out to be a gift." Fiona finished. With a smile, Nellis took the ring, and examined it. If his false sight's ended, he could sell the ring for quite the tidy sum. He smiled like a fool, and gave Fiona a large hug. It was his way of saying thanks, and his father often did the same to citzens of Anvil when they proved most helpful. Like his father, Nellis always remembered to pat the friend on the back during the embrace. His father was called "Bear arms" because of this fool's tradtion. Stepping away, Nellis spoke with true gratitude.

"Oh thank you Fiona! By Zeinthar's grace I thank you! If you require anything of me, anything that all you need only ask! I am in your debt!"

As he said this, the Lich in his mind grit grey teeth, and tried to grasp control of Nellis Nelsh. All it did was reveal knowledge to enchantments to him. Tips of the art flooded into the meek nord's mind, even if was knowledge that has not been updated since the days when Dragons were worshipped. Without control, Nellis spoke.

"If you need me to enchant anything of yours, I shall do it. This ring, simple as it may, it is good work. However, the art was perfected by my brothers of Atmora, and I could make you a staff. Yes, one that could summon the rage of a storm, or bring all around you under your will."

These words were a combination of the arcane knowledge of the Lich, and the nord's kindness. Blinking his eyes in the realazation that these words were not his own, Nellis took the ring and eyed it. The lich still pvssyd, using him as a conduit.

"The higher brothers were even able to make legendary masks with truly frighting amounts of power. Shields from fire, frost, and shock. Masks that allowed for the breathing of water. Such power that-"

Nellis slipped the ring onto his finger. He could not speak. The priest in his mind tried to continue it's speak, but no words came. It's fellow Dragur faded, and it shut it's eyes.
The priest slept once more.

Confident that the Lich would not speak again, Nellis took the ring off.

"Pardon that nonsense, just the visions getting to me. Damn Dragur never know when to stay quiet." Nellis said. Taking his hat, he put it back on his head, and adjusted it slightly.

"This vision had a Dragur in robes speaking. Valramo was in the vision as well. Clothed in his fancy armor this time. He was killed by the Dragur following the one in robes. Looked like a Lich. It was very critcal of your work, and seemed angered that it was to be silenced. Oddly enough, when I put the ring on, it went into a deep sleep. It also gave revealed something to me. Knowledge of enchanting. Now, I can feel that knowledge fading, but some it is staying behind." the nord added.

He did not feel wrong about telling Fiona this. After all, she was the only one who knew, and was unlikely to spread it around town.

[Scared humanity]

Nuramon

He got up out of bed and after stretching his body with a big yawn he slipped into some simple brown and green clothes. For some reason he did not pick up any of his daggers or bow and instead he immediately made his way to the door. When he turned around to go back to his room to pick up a weapon he noticed his body wasn’t responding at all.

Instead he walked on through the town of Valton, which was a ghost town at this hour. A fog had descended on the roads and gave everything an eerie look. Al vegetation seemed to be frozen from the cold and his breath came out as a white fog. His own blood made him pretty much unaffected by the cold.

His feet took him out of the city faster than he had ever imagined it possible and after mere minutes he was completely surrounded by dense forest. Apart from howling wolves everything was quiet and made him feel unsafe although he knew his abilities were far greater than anything nature could send to him, even when unarmed.

After he walked for what appeared the whole night, although it was still dark, he saw a large fire with a shadowy figure sitting in front of it. Enjoying the thought of sitting around a warm fire, his feet took him towards the fire. His body spoke and asked the man if he could join him.

“May I share your fire?” He asked.

The figure didn’t speak, but nodded his head. Nuramon made his way to the fire and sat himself down on the ground. Without speaking a word they sat there for what seemed to be hours, listening to the howling of the wolves. The only sound in the forest apart from the cracking of the fire.

Then the man turned his head towards Nuramon. The hood fell off and revealed the head of a deer with wide antlers. A loud horn was heard and the howling of wolves came closer. Nuramon jumped up and immediately kneeled before his daedric prince and waited until his guardian would speak to him.

“Formalities are of no importance during the hunt, my champion.” He said.

Nuramon sat down again without saying a word. His surprise disabled his speaking abilities.

“Now listen and listen carefully.” Hircine said. “This new town, Valton, is of great interest to me. Together with my .. fellow colleagues I have made a bet.” Nuramon wanted to ask him what kind of bet he was talking about but was interrupted by his patron. “I said listen. Valton has attracted the eyes of many princes of which some want to wage a bet. I cannot say what it is, only that I want to win. That I’m going to win. For this I have send the image of my spear to you. A khajiit with enough luck to kill a sabre cat I’ve send to her.”

Hircine stood up and walked out of the ring of fire. “that all I can say. Use my gift wisely.” Nuramon could hear the howls of the wolves get closer and he could see red eyes and white teeth in the shadows. “Oh, I would run if I were you. I always wanted to see what my champion would be like as prey.”

The wolves attacked and all of a sudden Nuramon had the control over his body back. The werewolves were only small and although they were in pack he knew he could best them in his own true form. He realized his grip on the cage which held his demon inside and allowed it to overtake his body and mind. ..

He felt nothing but emptiness. He looked at his hands and saw that nothing was changed. The wolves were almost on him. Panic raced through his head and he immediately turned around and ran as hard as he could. He heard the snapping teeth behind him as the beast came closer to him. In the distance he could hear Hircine’s horn loud and clear, announcing the great hunt. Fear and panic fought for control over Nuramon’s body while he did his best to stay ahead of the six werewolves that seemed to be growing with each step until they were huge, hulking beasts..

He failed to see a branch for his feet and tripped over him. He turned on his back just in time to see one of the wolves jump on him and as the teeth descended in the pale flesh of his throat he screamed like he never screamed before.

...

With a loud scream he jumped out of his bed and drew the daggers under his pillow. Naked and in a battle stance he stood still in the middle of his room. He did his best to slow down his racing heart and control his breath. “it was a dream.” He said unbelievingly. “it was just a dream.”

He walked to the mirror in his room and laid his head on the cool glass. He then looked at his sweaty body. He jumped back two meters as he saw blood on his throat and chest. Then a surge of pain hit him so hard that he had to lean against the wall with his hands. He could just see some small wounds in the form of teeth close at a very fast rate. He loosened his control over his inner sense and felt its presence, reassuring him. He sighed.

“Oh, I would run if I were you. I always wanted to see what my champion would be like as prey.” He could still hear the last words of his patron in his head. He toughed his neck as he looked outside and saw that the sun was already up. He put on some pants and took a tunic with him as he went outside to wash the blood away. He then entered the house again and took some bottles of sujamma from the basemant.

Daikanos

He woke up, a few hours after the sun had risen, from a deep sleep. He had no idea if he had dreamed bad or good, or if he dreamed at all. He realized he broke into a house that wasn’t his propriety so he had to get out of it fast. He put on his armor and took his belongings. Using magic he opened and locked the door again. I really have to buy a house and find a job.

He wandered through Valton, which resembled a ghost town because of the low hanging mist and eerie atmosphere. When he passed a shop he found a sign saying:

POSITION REQUIRED:
CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD
AUTHORITARIAN PREFERED, EXPERIENCE NECESSARY
ENQUIRE DIRECTLY TO THE JARL

Perfect. This is the job for me. And by the looks of that guard yesterday they’ll need me anyway. He looked around until he recognized the keep of the jarl and without further ado he made his way there. The town was empty and the only sound accompanying him was beating of the smith’s hammer on iron.

When he arrived at the keep he announced himself to the guards in front of the gate. “I wish to speak to your jarl. Find him or lead me to him and hurry up.” He laid his hand on his sword and spoke with his authoritarian tone that he used to use when ordering the royal guard of Helseth around.