[Killer McCracken]

Tippen, Valton Keep, Afternoon

When the man asked him what he was doing here at the Jarl's, Tippen replied, "I'm looking to buy the lumber mill, and begin a life as, well, a lumberjack. I figure a new hold needs a good amount of wood, and I could make a decent living at it if I really try. How about you? Are you looking for a job as well?"

Tippen's hopes raised, if he could go into this with someone else, that would be fantastic. He knew he could do the work, but it was quite a bit to do on his own. Having someone working with him would not only help him split the workload, but he'd have someone to talk to as well. At this thought, he extended his hand and said, "By the way, my name is Tippen Lucius."

[Manuela Ribeiro Pereira]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, Hela's Folly - His Forge, Afternoon.

As he was leaving the inn, he stumbled upon yet another group of people. The imperial, Danus, had stopped for a moment to talk with a young breton, who Gorbad didn't recognize. There was also the grumpy old dunmer, who went straight to the innkeeper and asked for the horrible liquid dunmers were so fond of, matze. Gorbad was quite sure the inn didn't have that, since Jal had been serving out his own batch of merely drinkable booze the first day, and had only gotten a black-briar mead shipment since then. It wasn't his business though, so he continued towards the door.

He ran into a Nord male, who looked quite familiar... But then again all nords looked the same. He was pretty sure he hadn't met this man yet. He was no soldier, that was sure. Neither did he look like an educated mage or scholar. He didn't have a hunters careful and always watching look either. Well, that ruled out what he couldn't be, but Gorbad still had no idea who the man was or what he did for a living. The nord looked as though he'd make a business offer, but instead he said.

______________________________
"You're the blacksmith, yes? We have business with you but now, know that there's a lizard on your forge. You should make haste before something happens."
______________________________

Aah yes. Jormaw had probably returned with the netched leather. The nord clearly recognized Gorbad, being the one and only Orc in Valton and the one and only blacksmith at that. Word was getting around Valton, which was good. He was sure the Chaurus chitin armor would gain some additional attention as well, as long as he sold it to someone who didn't just lock it into his chest or go off and die to a mudcrab.

"Aye, I'm the smith. Gorbad's the name. I don't think we've met before?" He made the last statement a question, but continued before the nord had a chance to answer.
"We can get to know each-other better at my forge later then, it's awfully crowded here." He took a few smooth steps closer to the door, while maintaining eye contact with the nord.

"I'll take my leave then and have a chat with the lizard." He nodded a good-bye and stepped out of the door, where he gave a warm and friendly smile to the young breton lady and hoped his teeth didn't scare her. He made it to his forge in a matter of seconds, where he saw Jormaw in a peculiar position. Meditating? Whatever he was doing, Gorbad couldn't do. His knees wouldn't bend that way, his back would probably crack into a million pieces. He shrugged to himself and greeted the lizard.

"Jormaw, you're back! You got the netched leather? I have your spear right there at the workbench. I'm quite happy about the result." He walked up to the workbench and showed the spear to Jormaw. He explained and showed how the additional two spear-heads worked, that they could be taken away at any time. He also showed the leather hand-grip at the end of the spear, which would allow the wielder not to lose it if his grip failed. He finally pointed out that he wood had been worked with, so it wouldn't be damaged by water in at least a year, perhaps two. The steel was also water-proof, specifically designed for a fishing spear.

[Carlos Vazquez]

Jormaw, Gorbad's Smithy, Afternoon.

Jormaw heard the orc approach and got onto his feet to inspect the spear the orc eagerly showed him. "Impressive make" he thought.
The saxhleel tapped the orc on the back in approval, "Your work is legendary, Gorbad." He gleaned the smith a natural argonian smile.
"I've got the boiled netch leather right here," he picked up the long sheet of leather off the crate and displayed it to the old master.

"You might be interested to know that this leather was made from the hide of a netch living in the second era," he continued,
"Tanned by the founders of Orsinium, boiled to the brim by age old sload and somehow enchanted by the mages of Artaeum."
Jormaw pointed at the barely visible cracks of slight flicker. "Or at least that's what the Stros M'Kai merchant said, you'll have to see for yourself."

He offered the netch leather to Gorbad and took a look at the spear that was crafted for him. It reminded him of something, although he couldn't remember what.

[Helen Quill]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, Afternoon.

Jormaw was quite pleased with the spear and was eager to show Gorbad the netch leather. The story behind it sounded like pure fantasy. "From a netch living in the second era? Tanned by the very founders of orisnium, then boiled by a sload? And enchanted by mages of Artaeum? Not a single one of those seemed plausible, even on their own." Gorbad thought. He raised his eye-brows and held the leather in his hands. He turned it around, inspected every corner and came to the conclusion that Jormaw hadn't made a bad deal getting his hands on this, but none of what the merchant had said was true. This was just normal, high-quality netch leather.

"While I can't say this isn't of good quality, I can say that not a single one of those statements is true." He said with a tired smile.
"This is fine leather, but that's it. It's better than I expected actually." He placed the netch leather at the wooden table, next to the finished chaurus chest armor and normal leather and leather strips. He figured Jormaw wouldn't have anything else to do at his forge anymore, so he began smelting steel for the rest of the arrow-tips. He looked up at the argonian fisher and said,

"Good doing business with you, hope that spear is put to good use." Gorbad's eyes sparkled when he said it, but it was impossible to say if it was the fire getting reflected in his eyes or something deeper.

[matt oneil]

Jormaw, Gorbad's Smithy, Afternoon.

"Ah, figured as much. May the Hist plague those damnable Stros M'Kai merchants!" He barely noticed Gorbad's dismissal while he sneered.
"Ssh- oh excuse me, yes. Good smelting, orsimer." Jormaw picked up the spear and decided to leave a salmon next to the earlier caught hare.
Sort of as a sign post that there's a fisherman in town, if anyone happened to require fresh supplies of fish. As well as for another gift to the blacksmith.

Jormaw then started to pick up the light crate of salmon in haste, as he began to make way to the nearby Gudslott Keep. Surprisingly, on his trek
around to the castle he glimmered a curious piece of silken, albeit wrinkled cloth of fine make in his eyesight. "On the roadside of a nord's town, eh?
that's odd." He thought back to the carts he had seen by the inn, "maybe it slipped off one of them." The saxhleel pocketed it into his old garb before heading off.

~~~~

Jormaw, Gudslott Keep, Afternoon.

After being ignored by what looked to be a very confused guard, whom didn't even bother to remove a possible weapon from the lizard's grasp,
Jormaw proceeded to push the large keep's doors open in difficulty and he all but managed to squeeze through, right before they slammed into his face.

Taking a breath in from his exertions, he eyed the surroundings. From his position he spotted three dazed humans, the jarl and a dwemer centurion.
"Wait, no, that can't be right. That can't be right." Was the Jarl making deals with the bronze men? "No, no." Jormaw shaked his head and walked on.

He tryed slip past the crowd as casually as possible- there was no reason for him to draw attention to himself. Well, at least he hoped he wouldn't.
But the crow in the Jarl's arms did intrigue him and made him stop. The squawking coming from the bird sounded like a mating call? maybe a distress call?
Whatever it was had caught Jormaw's attention. He had put down his crate of salmon in shade and observed the bird with able spear in hand.

[Manuela Ribeiro Pereira]

Alguidar, Hela's Foly, Afternoon

The Orc introduced himself as Gorbad, before calmly leaving for his forge. Alguidar didn't detect the sense of urgency he'd expect from the blacksmith, from having an Argonian snooping around his unattended forge. "Maybe he's expecting the lizard." Thought Alguidar, alarmed. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of weapons he was buying from the Orc. "I must be ready next time." Said a small voice, deep in his mind, as he made his way to the counter.

The Elf was there, ordering a drink from an Imperial. The Nords that brought him here were sitting in a corner, looking at the Elf over their shoulders, whispering. Alguidar dropped his crate of apples over the counter and leaned against it, expecting the crate to attract the inn keeper's attention.

[Quick Draw]

Jacqueline, Hela's Folly, Afternoon.

She offered the Imperial a polite smile as she entered the inn after Alguidar. She followed his lead and put the two tins down beside the crate of apples and removed the leather belt she had used to carry them.
She rolled her shouders to ease her muscles and looked around the inn curiously. It was rather barren, and she suspected it had not been in business for long. She wasn't really that fond of the typical Nordic inn design she had come across the last few months. She found it kinda odd that the patrons often had to sit along the walls at tables where they would be sitting with their back to the room. She couldn't imagine the walls being good dining companions. Though maybe they were seated like that so that their backs could be warmed by the hearth in the middle of the room.

Ain't much to look at, she thought. But then that's better said 'bout tha whole town. If I had a team of seasoned builders I woulda given tha inn keeper some real good offers. This town ain't gonna earn its place on tha map if it's gonna stay in such a shabby state.

Maybe if she could find a stable source of income she could save up enough gold to hire a team of builders. In a year, perhaps. Though if she only got small jobs she would not be needing any help.

Oh well, she thought and turned back towards the counter and Alguidar. Ain't gonna stand 'ere 'n daydream all day.

[CHANONE]

Zalabek, Zalabek's House (Valton), Afternoon

Zal paced through his living area, pint of Sujeema clenched tightly in his hand, cursing that damned Khajiit and his Gods forsaken humour. He'd spent weeks collecting those goods, such volumes - near every tome ever published in Tamriel's north - and now they were lost to him. Not only had his cartfull crashed down the mountainside, but it'd landed in a fridged pond that was being patrolled by a fairly upset Frost Troll.

"By Azura," Zalabek said to himself as he took a seat by his hearth, cross legged on the floor, "What in Oblivion is the point? Two steps forward, and a fair length's levitation in reverse. You told me to come here, dear Azura, but to what end must I struggle?" The Dunmer downed the remainder of the alcoholic drink from his flagon and spat a wad of phlegm in to the flickering flames. "Well, I suppose I should get out and about. I've a store to run, after all..."

---

The afternoon sun burned Zalabek's snow-white eyes as he opened the door to his small house. Damned Skyrim - no matter how dim the lighting, the icy atmosphere always seemed to amplify the sun's intensity. One foot after the other the elf made his way through town, doing his best to remain undetected, and to his small Bookselling shop. The key turned in the lock with a loud 'Click!', which made Zal flinch. At last he was alone amongst pages of history, just as he was meant to be.

The day was quiet enough for him, and he hoped it'd stay that way. From his satchel he withdrew a small vial of powdered moon sugar, from which he poured a small pile 'pon his left index finger and proceeded to inhale through his nose. The rush hit him, though not quite as decently as well made Khajiit Skooma would have. It would tide him over 'til days end, perhaps...

[Chris Ellis]

Skarpi, Valton Inn, Late Afternoon

“Hey, barman! Get me a jug of mazte. I'm dying over here” shouted a gruff, weathered voice.

Skarpi turned from the meal he was preparing, and found himself facing an old Dunmer, a very old Dunmer. He was several centuries old, by the look of him, but could be much older. The man hobbled around as if nearly crippled, and his face was wrinkled and gaunt, far worse than the old sailor’s. “Hullo there, Dunmer! My, I have not seen one of your kind in quite a while hee-hee-hee!” chimed up Skarpi, elated to make contact with a Dark Elf. “Unfortunately, my wizard friend, we have no Mazte, or any of your native drinks. I got a nice brew of Argonian Ale, and some Honningbrew Mead, if that interests you, though.”

Before the crazy old Dunmer could reply, a man dropped a crate of apples onto the counter, gazing at Skarpi with an expecting look. “M’yes? May I help ya?” asked the old sailor.

[Mark Churchman]

Alguidar, Hela's Foly, Afternoon

“M’yes? May I help ya?” asked the old Imperial after he noticed the farmer.

"Howdy! Pleased to meet ya! I'm Alguidar and this is Jacqueline. I run the local farm. Just arrived yesterday and still didn't have a chance to meet ya." Said Alguidar with his best smile, obviously trying to please. Traditionally, in his old farm, supplying the inn always represented most of the farm's profits with its constant demand for cooking ingredients. He was well aware of how important it would be to have a good standing with this establishment.

"We brought over some apples and milk from the farm. Special price today..." Alguidar looked at Jacqueline for a moment, trying to remember something, then continued. "... of one gold for two ladlefuls! Apples are two gold each. Take one for free! Top quality."

He paused to wait for the inn keeper's reaction but he just remembered he skipped one important part in his speech.

"Oh, and you are...?"

[Marie]

Jarl Spurvhauke, Gudslott Hall, Early Afternoon

The Jarl let his shoulders drop, as it washed over him how eagerly he wished to be rid of this problem. The days burdens where already becoming to much of his weary soul. If the whispers he had heard from his guards amounted to anything, Fiona was a woman he would need by his side in the coming days. Jarl Radwulf laid wary eyes upon the spunky Nibenian girl, and drawing his strength, gave the order he was already dreading the consequences of.

"...Do whatever you may. If you like, consider this your job interview" he said, gruffly, having to force each word out of his weathered lips, "my suspicion is you won't find my Court-Mage in her tower. By the looks of what has happened to her bird here, she may well have come into some trouble. Anything that has gotten between Fiona Barrow-Heart and her bird and lived to tell the tale would be trouble indeed. Investigate her tower, and ask about the town for her if you need more clues. Honestly.." he trailed off, feeling his passion for this idea drain out of him even as she spoke, "..if you can just find my Court-Mage and get her back here, however you do it, there will be a reward worth winning. What say you?" Jarl Spruvhauke's eyes glowed faintly as he let the offer dangle, his attention caught for a moment by the two petitioners arrived at the door.

[Amy Smith]

Daikanos, bandit cave, Late midday - afternoon.

They had followed the man, unseen, for some time until they came upon a large cave. Daikanos ordered his men to hold still out of side and crept closer together with Halfeth. They hid behind some bushes from where they could see the released Nord talk with a bosmer that was clearly standing on look out. However, they were too late to hear what the two of them were talking about.

Not much later the Nord turned around towards the cave and disappeared out of their sight. Halfeth looked at Daikanos and silently formed the words, “Do I shoot him?” with his mouth. Daikanos nodded and gave fast orders with his hand to ready his men.

He saw Halfeth nock the arrow on his bow and preparing the shot. He felt the adrenaline rise up in him, just as his everlasting voices. He forgot about his wish to come to this new hold to built a new peaceful life. All he could feel now was his yearning for blood.

In his mind he already saw the arrow seering through the air. Minutes later he’d see the arrow pierce the man’s throat, making drops of blood fly through the air as the man would choke in his own blood. It didn’t go that way though. The moment Halfeth wanted to release the arrow the bosmer was startled by something in the bushes and jumped out of the way, Forcing Halfeth to reaim quickly as the arrow was being released.

Instead of killing the man in one hit, the arrow pearced the man’s thigh. The Bosmer screamed as his hands clamped around the arrow. He looked around a few more times and then ran inside, screaming for help and warning the bandits to the danger.

Daikanos cursed in his mothertongue and jumped forward to the cave, quickly followed by his men. The place was well lightened by a radiating blue mushroom that seemed to grow on the walls of the cave and torches.

He felt everyone was on the edge and they seemed to react to every small sound. They could hear many footsteps and order being shouted deeper in the cave and Daikanos feared that if they lingered to long the bandits would have set up a trap or ambush.

He drew his sword and while holding it loosely in his hand he led his men down into the cave. It had clear signs of life. Some tables, crates, barrels were placed around without much order and they found the occasional bedrole. Apart from that, the burning torches and the sounds they heard earlier the cave seemed abandoned.

They passed the occasional bear trap but always saw it ahead of time and it didn’t cause much trouble. The first trap that almost managed to damage them was a stack of heavy looking, rolling logs that came crashing down towards them at a very high speed. Daikanos could see a man running away behind them, but his thoughts were quickly moved towards treat.

He focused his mind on the logs and mumbled a few words as he brought his left hand up, pointing it towards them. He heard the guards clearly had no faith in him and they started to back away to find places they could hide from the falling logs.

When the logs had crossed half of the distance they started slowing down until they came to a complete stop one meter away from Daikanos who hadn’t moved one bit. from his forehead dripped some sweat. I’m not used to casting magic anymore. It’s been to long. I should start practicing again.

“Let’s continue.” He simply said. “but be careful, I know from experience that rocks can come crashing down from the ceiling.”

He saw the guards nod to show him that they had understood and then they were on their way again. he could feel they were getting closer. He was so concentrated on trying to hear the bandits so he’d know how far they’d have to continue that he failed to hear the cracking noises from the ceiling.

He was pushed aside by Halfeth when a chunk of the ceiling came crshing down on them. Just as he had warned the guards for. The place was filled with dust and it took him several minutes to come to his senses and it was then that he realized they formed an easy target.

He turned to the direction they were going and while keeping and eye on the tunnel he wanted to ask if everyone was alive but Halfeth beat him to it. “Everyone alright?” the nord asked. While the guards were shuffeling around, not knowing what just happened, they gave some weak responses but they sounded fine so Daikanos didn’t see the need to wait any longer. He motioned with his hand that they’d continue.

When one of them stepped over one of the rocks he saw a guard trapped under it, dead. They stopped and stared at the man. Not willing to believe their eyes. The rock had crushed most of his upper body and neck. With joined effort they pushed the thing aside and moved their fallen comrade away from the scene.

Daikanos could hear the guards swere revenge on the bandits for this and only figured it would make it easier for them to kill the bandits. With deadly determination they continued through the tunnel until they came upon a large opening.

Daikanos listened closely, but he couldn’t hear anything. He started walking slowely towards the opening and was soon joined by another guard. he didn’t know about the guard but he had his spells already formed in his mind to protect himself against anything.

And he was glad he had done so. When they entered the large hall several arrows were fired at them. Daikanos quickly created a deflecting shield around him but the Nord next to his side wasn’t so lucky. One of the arrows fired by the bandits punctured his throat while two others, deflected from Daikanos’ shield, penetrated the man’s side.

He could feel he was using up most of his magicka reserves but he knew he had no choice. While he stormed in he formed the next words carefully and created a blinding flare to distract the archers and give his men the time to get into close combat range.

He went straight for a recruit-like looking man. He clasped his sword so strongly that the knuckles of the man were white. Daikanos grinned as he highered his sword to let it crash down on his opponent. The man quick, but clumsily parried the blow but Daikanos soon followed it up with a kick in the nuts with his steel clad shin.

The man fell on the ground in pure anguish as his hands intuitively moved to the hurt area. He was quickly finished by a chop on the back of the head from Daikanos’ sword. Turned around when he heard a second man come rush at him, roaring in anger.

Daikanos side stepped out of the man’s axe’s reach and with a laugh gave him time to recover and try again.this too seemed like a fresh recruit. The man attack again, slashing from left to right with his axe, but Daikanos simply parried the blow, stepped closer and punched the man in the face with his armored fist and then chopped with his sword, which went halfway through the bad quality leather and upper body.

The sword was stuck to deep so he simply grabbed the axe just in time to turn around and plant it in the head of another one that foolishly rushed towards him. it seemed like the fight was over so he clasped his sword with his two hands and with a big effort pulled it out of the body. He then looked around to see how they did.

Two of the remaining guards had been killed bu they had managed capture two bandit, that had surrendered. five non guard bodies lay on the floor dead. “So there’s no one else that can fight me?” he shouted mockingly towards the bandits.

[R.I.p MOmmy]

Roymund, Valton Farm. Afternoon

Roymund awoke from his sleep, his skin half soaked with sweat. "Keller you bast--.." he cried aloud before realising it was just a dream. He looked down at his right arm, the wound had started looking worse ever since this Argonian told him it was rockjoint. With his left hand, he rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes then mopped off the back of his neck with his loose sleeve. "What time is it?" he thought, he'd become so wrapped up amongst his dreams that he'd lost all track of time.

Dragging himself to his feet, he moaned as his arm had lost some of it's feeling and wouldnt do as he wished without support. "Bugger it" he mumbled, supporting it with his spare arm. He moved to the window and checked outside for and signs of the time. "Afternoon" he told himself, "Looks like Alguidar or Jacqueline are still in town too.."

He remembered what Alguidar had told him of the key and where to stash it if he was to leave the house empty. He looked across the room at his bow, it felt wierd to be leaving it behind when he was to travel to town. It wasn't a far walk by all means, but it'd been too long since he last felt safe enough to class somewhere as home. He adjusted the small knife on his belt, concealing it more behind himself and prepared to head out to meet that Argonian.

As he stepped out the door he heard chatting coming from the animals, the mixture of tongues confused him alittle as to how they'd communicate though he soon realised it was none of his concern. Upon locking the frontdoor he stepped round to where Alguidar had instructed he left the key and tucked it far back in the gap, peered over his shoulder to check if he was being watched and, once satisfied he was alone, stepped back around to the house and out of the gate.

He set off towards town centre, nursing his arm as he strode.

[Hazel Sian ogden]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, Afternoon.

It had been a few minutes since Jormaw left Gorbad's forge and headed straight for the castle with a crate of fresh fish. He even left one of them behind, just next to the untouched rabbit. "Great, yet another thing I need to cook.. or get rid of.." He'd thought. While Gorbad appreciated the gesture, he didn't know how to prepare the meat.
The last thing he wanted was a food-poisoning at this age. Or fish-bones in his throat. He'd finished another three arrow tips, totaling 8 of them. "Only 12 to go, should be done within an hour if I don't get interrupted." He figured, and threw some more corundum and iron into the smelter.

As he was shaping two more arrow-tips a thought entered his mind. As long as no-one was looking for him, at least not until evening, he could try and cook the fish and rabbit without any witnesses to his very likely failure. The steel tips were finished as he cooled them in water, now totaling 10 of them, so he turned his attention to the meat. His forge had a mighty flame in it, surely enough to heat up and prepare the meat. He took some of the left-over wood he'd used to make the spear and pierced the rabbit and fish on it.

The wood might crack from the heat though, so he placed it in a way that wouldn't throw the meat into the forge even if it happened. Instead, the rabbit and fish would roll down the side of the forge and to the ground below. He had no idea how long they'd have to be next to the fire. But he figured that if they were even remotely similar to metals, of course taking into account that they were a lot lighter, they'd be "smelted" in a quarter or so. So in other words, 4 more arrow tips and the meat would be cooked. He took more corundum and iron and threw it into his smelter, while hoping no-one would stumble upon him while he was trying to defeat such a mighty foe as cooking meat...

[jessica breen]

Titus Aetius, Valton keep, Afternoon

"I'm Titus Aetius. I've come here from Cyrodiil to find some mercenary work."
Titus took Tippen's hand and shook it, and smiled. This was somebody he could get along with. He looked over at the Jarl, and saw that he still wasn't done talking to the woman. He hoped it was something important they were talking about. Titus had wanted to just go in and get a job from the Jarl. He was tired and in no mood to have his time wasted.

[David Chambers]

OOC: introduction post

Itan-Ru, Road to Valton, Afternoon

Itan-ru had been on the road to Valton for several hours, having left the winding streets of Riften at Midday. The trip had thus far been uneventful, the young Argonian having encountered nothing more threatening than a few rabbits. This wasn't stopping him from nervously glancing over his shoulder every 30 seconds or so. Or stopping to collect alchemical ingredients whenever he came upon them.

Eventually, he could see the buildings on the horizon that marked the town, and he quickened his pace, eager to be within the relatively safe confines of a hold, as opposed to the dangerous wilderness of Skyrim. He reached the somewhat unofficial-looking entrance and approached the guardsman outside. The guard took a quick glance at the young reptile before calling out, "Hail traveler! what brings you to Valton?"

Itan-Ru carefully approached the guard and said nervously, "I'm a priest from Riften. I came to live here in the new hold, if there's room for me..."

The guard nodded and said, "Nothing wrong with another priest in town. Go on in, and if you plan on staying for a time, you may want to speak to the Jarl, he or his steward should be able to help you find some residence."

Itan-Ru politely thanked the guard and walked into the town, making his way to where the keep was, passing a few of the residents on his way and politely saying hello before going on his way, trying not to look too nervous. This of course failed, as he noticed some of the townspeople were giving him odd looks. he tried his best not to get even more nervous and made his way to the keep, deciding that it was important to speak to the Jarl of his new home as soon as possible.


OOC: edited out some mistakes and expanded

[Elle H]

Valton keep, early afternoon
Leandra

The young Imperial's lips curled in a soft smile as the prospect of work unfurled before her like a particularly profitable banner. Sure, she had expected the Jarl might have something for her, but a search and rescue? Involving the court mage? With the promise of a worthwhile reward, no less - and it would have to be worthwhile indeed, considering how much potential for trouble this task had.

Leandra's eyes darted to the left, lingering for but a moment on one of the hall's windows before slipping off to the right, then weaving back to the left with disconcerting speed. After less what was probably less than a second of staring at the same window, upwards her gaze shot, not to stop there.

Mages. Usually weird. Disappearance, ugly business; right under Jarl's nose, too.

Her left cheek twitched slightly. Allegedly potent, makes disappearance more worrying... Possible non-mortal force involvement? No no, speculation right now. Could have nothing to do with Daedra. Cultists not known for subtlety...

Unless, mage cultist? The deep blue ground to a halt, stopping incidentally right at the Jarl, then swerving downwards, to the raven in his arms. Her eyebrows flickered briefly in a barely notable frown. Little town, no chapel... Possibility, for now. Lack of watch against supernatural threat likely, dependent on court mage to tell... Very useful for cultist.

Her eyes shooting upwards at the Jarl's face again, the Nibenese realised she'd never actually accepted the offer. Of course, it had not been as long as she thought it had been since it was voiced - being deep in thought made her lose all sense of time. The smile grew into a grin.

"Safely."

Realising that this made little sense, she quickly elaborated. "Your Jarlhood forgot to say 'get her back here safely'. Crucial distinction in my line of work, and one best specified. Some of my, uh, less scrupulous colleagues would take this as permission to demand full pay for simply dragging her body back here. I, however, am terribly handicapped right now by my need to leave a good impression, so I'll pretend that our verbal contract there obliges me to actually bring this court mage of yours back here breathing, limbs and all. Lucky you."

"...Actually, I can't guarantee the limbs that readily. So she might be back one less - or one extra." Leandra frowned slightly again, before her confident smile returned. "Regardless, your Jarlhood has himself a deal."

Her right hand suddenly stuck out with a clang, extending as if to shake... despite the fact she was quite a bit outside hand's reach from the Jarl. With an irritated glance, the young mercenary pushed the limb back to its place at her side with her left hand. Sometimes this thing seems to have a mind of its own. Maybe it does, at that... That's a fun thought, the mess of metal I've had on my hand for the past few years can actually make its own decision. And it chooses to make the decisions that irritate its wearer.

Whirling around on her heel, Leandra set off back the way she'd come into the hall, intent on regaining possession of her weapons and then getting straight to work. "Disregard minor mechanical malfunctions, your Jarlship! I'll be back before you know it!" She reassured the apparently quite depressed Jarl, brushing past the small crowd that had begun assembling behind her, all apparently waiting for an audience with the Jarl. Poor fellow has his work cut out for him. I do too.

[Chris BEvan]

Jormaw, Gudslott Hall, Afternoon.

The argonian looked at the now recognizably imperial walk in his direction. He decidely judged that she was intent on sorting out
this interruption in the Jarl's day to day routine. In fast motion, he went down to the kitchens to drop off the crate of fish, before grabbing
the ordinary pay for it's size from an adjacent coin purse atop a table. The chef was absent but they would understand the delivery.

He ran back up to go about silently following the shapely dwemeri lunatic. Whatever she was going to do, he'd join her in the task.
'Why?' Jormaw asked himself. Maybe it was to do with a desire of adventure, to practice with his new spear or to make sure she was safe.
Yes, an innate trait of members of the Ukoa-Sieen was that the elders would accompany the youngers in hunts, for safety and to guide them.

Whatever was the reason- Jormaw didn't look to care. He was following this imperial and her lead, to solve this mystery.

[Aliish Sheldonn]

Wolfgar Cut-throat. Afternoon. Bandit cave.



After the bandit leader was done with Rolaf he was tired. Rolaf was lucky he will not get punished for his failure. However soon after he laid on his bedroll to take a nap. Ulag came to him. "The Bosmer Valborn is shot in the thigh by an arrow. We have trouble." Said the Orc. It's the guards. They managed to find us this quick. Said Wolfgar.



As the Nord rallied his men he quickly made up a plan. Set up some beartraps, a log trap and set up an ambush deeper in the cave. He told his men. The intruders should not be too far. hurry place some bear traps over here. As the bandits head deeper into the cave, they placed an occasional bear trap.



Deeper in the Cave there is a pile of logs the bandits placed for both firewood and should this situation happen. Allright Quickly out them up in a pile. Archers! look out for the guards! He said to the bandits. Within a few short minutes the logs are piled up. Allright Brogvir, wait for the guards; when they show up push the logs and meet us in the opening area of the cave. He said to the bandit. I won't fail this. Said the bandit. Everyone except for Brogvir left to go deeper into the cave.



As the bandits head into a deep part of the cave they entered an opening. Allright Now were at the place to ambush. Allright Put Valborn in a hiding place. He can't fight like this. He points at the 3 archers. I want you to go over there, and shoot the arrows at the guards when they come. When enough dies the rest of you will charge in and kill the rest. Get ready. We must stay silent.



What takes a few minutes feels like a lifetime. Despite Wolfgar's plan many of the bandits know deep in their hearts there not going to make it through. And Rolaf himself knows he will die because it was his fault it is coming to this. Eventually Brogvir came through. Wolfgar, I pushed the logs but I don't know how many I got. Very well, Join with the rest. Shortly later the archers can see one of them came through the opening to the open area. And later another one. A total of nine of them. Should we fire at them? Asked an archer silently. Do it. Said Wolfgar. In almost unity the 3 fired their bows. However one of them made some kind of shield spell that blocked two of the arrows. Atleast the third one managed to kill one of them. Hold! The casters Reserves should run out soon1 Yelled Wolfgar. However to the end of his luck. The same caster made another spell that blinded everyone. When the bandits regained their sights. The guards are close enough. It is now sword on sword.



Despite the bravery on the rouges, the Guards were more determined, and more experienced in combat. As a result one by one, The bandits die off. Thus forcing Wolfgar and Ulag to go further deep into the cave, leaving Valborn, And Rolaf alive. Everyone else dead...

[Gisela Amaya]

Roymund, Valton centre. Afternoon.

Roymund trudged the streets of Valton, nursing his arm gently as he moved. The feeling of his arm seemed to be getting worse, he could move it on it's own now but it felt very sluggish and his muscle movements slowed. "Wheres that bloody Argonian?" he asked himself, grumbling grimly as he past one of the labourers. He peering around the streets, The blacksmith was busying himself at his forge though seemed to be casting an mistrusting glance back at his forge every now and again.

"Ah, The Inn" he thought, looking up at the sign of Helas' Folly. He stepped inside, and took in the atmosphere. Amongst the handfull of patrons, he noted Alguidar and Jacqueline talking the a man behind the bar "Must have taken on a new hire". He offered a passing smile to the pair, and headed further into the Inn and took up a seat by the fireplace. He'd only brought enough money with him for the Blacksmith, and couldnt afford to get himself a drink and anyting to eat. "Better not keep me waiting.. Bloody healers.." he mumbled, resting his injured arm on his lap.

[Sunny Under]

Xerces, Midday, Entrance to Valton

Xerces spoke in a harsh tone "Hurry up, do you want to be laborers for the rest of your lives work, I said AGHH-"
He was grabbed by one laborer and the others grabbed his weapons and struck him down.
"That is the end of one of our problems."
------------------

I really just wanted an abrupt end for this character, I may join Valton again with another character in fact, I will probably do that.

[FLYBOYLEAK]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, Afternoon.

So far, the meat hadn't changed in any noticeable way, so Gorbad decided to leave it alone and check back on it later. Instead, he was determined to make at least 3 more arrow tips before he'd check the meat out. He grabbed some of the iron ore from the mine and slowly melted away some of the unnecessary rock and unusable material that was in it. He was constantly surprised of how little of it there was, Nellis had made sure to cut from the best veins. Never before had Gorbad thought someone could be a master miner, but Nellis sure was one.

It didn't take long before the ore had been cleaned from the biggest rocks, so he took it out of the smelter and placed it in a small reinforced bucket by his work-bench. He was about to do the same thing with the corundum, but as he turned the ore around he saw the unmistakable shape of a sapphire in the corundum, or more technically said, the hole of a sapphire that had been there. "Nellis must've gotten himself a little bonus there" Gorbad thought and chuckled before he placed the ore in the smelter. This wasn't much more pure to begin with than the ore. That could either be because Nellis had been extra careful and precise with the corundum or because iron ore generally caught much more impurity such as rocks and unwanted, unusable metals, than corundum. Judging from the sapphire hole he'd seen, Gorbad figured it was both of the reasons.

Once the corundum had been slightly purified, he repeated the same thing with the iron ore a couple of times more and a few times with the corundum as well. Then, he placed the now almost completely purified, molten iron and corundum in the smelter at the same time and began the process of integrating them into steel. He remembered a young wannabe smith who once had asked Gorbad, "Why aren't there Steel veins in caves?". It was, even theoretically, almost impossible for that to happen. The reason was simple: Corundum and iron had to be mixed together at a very high temperature, but the corundum would also have to be extremely clean. That would never happen in a cave naturally. Instead, smiths and smelters had to do that by themselves. Just think how much cheaper steel would be if it was found naturally in caves!

With his trained blacksmiths hands he mixed the iron and corundum together in the fires of the smelter. He couldn't see what he was doing, obviously, since the ore was inside the smelter, but he could feel the irregularity and density of the molten material he was mixing with the years of experience he had. Again, the trick wasn't just to wave around like a baker who's trying to turn milk into butter. No, it was much more subtle than that. More like turning milk into a very fine whipped cream. If you did it wrong, you'd end up with a heavy, buttery-cream or with a light, milk-cream. It had to be just perfect. Gorbad thought of it as a fine art, but anyone who knew how hot it actually was in the smelter would just shrug and shake their heads. Surely you couldn't create something with precision in such extreme conditions as a smelters fire, they'd say. But Gorbad's steel spoke for itself, for he'd only ever seen better steel created by the Sky-Forge up in Whiterun. But that thing was magically enchanted, so the competition wasn't exactly fair.

When the mixture felt the same at all places with the tool Gorbad was using, he let the red-hot steel pour down into a small container. He placed it on the workbench to cool down a bit and turned his attention back to the meat he was cooking. It wasn't there. With raised eye-browns, Gorbad approached his forge and saw a pile of black ash next to it. "Oh great..." He thought, while looking around to make sure no-one had seen the little failure. With a smooth move, he used a shovel to throw the ashes as far away from his forge as he could. For a split second he thought the wind would catch in and throw it back in his face, but luckily it didn't. At least he'd taken care of the meat problem... He turned his attention back to the steel and took it back to his forge, where he carefully began shaping three new arrow tips. Once he'd completed these three, he'd need to create only five more.

[Dona BlackHeart]

Theseus, Less than a mile Northeast of Valton, late afternoon.

Theseus looked down disapprovingly at the coin sized wound in his gut. He threw the bloody rags off to the left and tore another piece of cloth from his pants. It hurt like hell and the halfblood made a grunt of pain as he pressed the fresh rags on his wound. Where in Oblivion is this damn town! He was loosing blood and already felt sickly from his long lonely journey from Riften. He began to slowly replay the events that lead to his injury in his head.

He arrived in the cesspool known as Riften just the day before last. Theseus was appalled at the filth of the place. It seemed to reek of criminals to him and Theseus had never been very partial to thieves and murderers. He knew every loose handed thief was eying his valuables and sizing him up.

The halfblood knew that no one would dare approach him with thievish intentions face to face. His arrogance had almost or had been his downfall. A decrepit old beggar had approached him his second day there asking for just one septim. Theseus had a heart for the meek and downtrodden and reached into his coinpurse for a septim. As he turned his face at the old man, the urchin leaped forward and plunged an old blade into his side.

In a mixture of surprise and rage, Theseus shoved the man back unsheathed his blade and decapitated him on the spot. At once it seemed that everyone in the city readied their weapons to attack the newcomer.

And the guards had just watched.

Somehow the half Nord half Redguard fought his way out and began to run westward. He had heard that a new hold had been built somewhere between Riften and the small settlement of Ivarstead.

He had ran with his hand placed firmly on his wound for an hour strait. He stopped for rest and the past four hours he had been limping along.

The man was swept out of his memories by the sound of an arrow being notched. He instinctively rolled forward dodging the arrow as it swept over him. He glanced back and saw two bandits rushing at him both armed with axes. They seemed inexperienced by the way they recklessly charged into battle weapons raised. Theseus took note of this and fell to one knee, feigning his injury to be greater than it really was.

The closest one raised his weapon over his head to chop down the wounded traveler and was surprised to see a crooked smile on the man's face. Lightning quick, Theseus lunged forward and impaled the bandit through the chest with his sword. He pulled the weapon out of the dead bandit and swung around using his bodies momentum to slash his blade across the other bandit's throat. Blood sprayed onto Theseus's ever smiling face and the now very dead bandit fell onto his back.

Theseus was alerted by the sounds of more battle cries as five more bandits began to charge into the fray. Normally he would have considered rising to the challenge, but Theseus knew that there was no way he could take on five enemies at once in his current state. Maybe another day. He mused.

The halfblood began sprinting down the road and he quickly caught sight of the hold. Almost the- Theseus was interrupted from his thoughts by an arrow thumping like a sledgehammer into his back and piercing his lung.

Cant breath! Gotta keep moving!

Theseus somehow managed to make it into the hold and collapse onto his face.

He managed one loud yell for assistance, "HELP!"

[Chavala]

Itan-Ru, Outside Valton Keep, Afternoon

Itan-Ru had reached for the handle and pushed the large, heavy door open. He was eager to get rid of the bag containing the money for the house he intended to buy, not to mention to have a house of his own for the first time. Just before he had left, the other priests had apparently raised the funds for his new home in secret, presenting it as a farewell present. they'd also taken the liberty of stuffing silk in and around the coins, to prevent them from making any sounds. Walking through Riften with a large, noisy bag of coins was never a good idea.

Upon reaching the Jarl, he found that he wasn't speaking to anyone, but there appeared to be someone else wanting to speak with him. Well, he thought, he did get here first, so he made his way to the wall and leaned against it, careful not to break anything in his pack, which was a lot heavier than it looked. while he waited, he glanced towards another hallway and glimpsed a scaled tail disappearing behind it. Ah! he thought, so there are other Argonians here...

he shifted his position on the wall and continued waiting. The steward or the Jarl would address him when they had the time, so no need to be impatient. Still, his body disagreed with his mind, and an occasional twitch kept breaking his stillness.

[-__^]

A guard of Valton, at the north-east bridge of Valton, late afternoon.

It had been a quiet day. The only action anyone had seen so far was the wounded traveler during the morning side, but most hadn't even seen that. Only a handful of the lucky ones had been sent to clear out a bandit lair up north-west. "They should be back by now, though..." He thought. The guard strolled over the bridge and gave Shimmermist mine a quick look. That high elf, he didn't know his name, had done some pretty impressive building over there.

His gaze moved towards the woods further away, where he thought he saw movement. It didn't take long before a lone figure ran towards Valton, towards him and the bridge. The man was obviously wounded, but the guard pulled out his bow either way. It was good he had, for what seemed to follow the wounded man was a small army of bandits. Seven of them totally... But two of them seemed to glow with an odd light. The guard didn't know much about magic, but figured something bad was going on over there. As the small army ran towards Valton, he stood his ground and drew an arrow from the quiver. He might not be the best marksman in Skyrim, but by the eight if he couldn't kill one or two of those before he had to retreat.

He aimed for one of the fastest looking bandits and fired his arrow. For a moment it looked like it'd pierce the bandits’ belly, but instead the wind redirected it slightly towards his right, hitting the man on the shoulder. The guard expected an impact strong enough to knock the man down, or at least slow him down, but instead it went right through the bandit, as if he wasn't there. His trained eyes caught a slight change in one of the other bandits face.. Tired? Hurt? Confused? Concentrated? Something like that. He wasn't the brightest of minds, but he could look at two things and see a connection. It was obvious that the bandit was some sort of mage, who was creating an illusion of a small army of bandits. While the guard pulled another arrow from his quiver and aimed for the mage, he saw the mage had red eyes and very pale skin. Almost as if he was sick. Without hesitation, he fired the arrow. A slight adjustment to fit the winds direction took the arrow straight through the mages throat.

Disbelief was written all over the dying mages face as he fell backwards. Before he'd even hit the ground, four of the bandits disappeared and the two who'd been glowing with the sickly magic collapsed into piles of ashes. The guard stood there, puzzled, relieved and confused. He'd been right; the man had been a mage. A quick look around showed that nothing else was moving, but he also couldn't see the wounded man anymore. Apparently he'd made it the small distance to the city. He was no healer and there were other people in the town to take care of the man, so the guard took a few careful steps towards the dead mage. "Bloody mages...” He muttered as he was only a few feet away. The dead man looked like an imperial or a nord, but had very pale and wrinkly skin. In addition, those devil-red eyes were watching the outside world with an anger that scared the guard, even though he knew the mage was dead. Now that the illusion had vanished, he saw the mage was wearing a simple black robe instead of hide-armor. The guard couldn't help but think this was some sort of necromancer.

Before he thought of what to do next, another guard approached, one from Shimmermist mine. He gave odd looks at the dead thing and together they agreed to take it to town to be identified by some other mages or priests, or perhaps alchemists. So they began dragging the body towards the town of Valton. They stopped when they reached the wounded man. Apparently no-one had bothered helping him, so the guard who'd slayed the mage continued to drag the body towards the guard barracks, while the other guard decided to help the wounded newcomer.

"You ok there pal? Not to worry, I know just the place to take you to." He said and thought about that other fella who'd stumbled into the town of Valton earlier today. He was simply going to take this man to the alchemist who'd taken care of him as well.
"Come here, I'll help you walk. That's it, you're doing great. Welcome to Valton by the way, lovely town. We'll patch you right up. That's it, just a few more feet to go." The guard opened the door to Nuramon's house and helped the wounded newcomer inside. He saw the elf reading some fancy books, so he knocked on the now wide-open door and said,
"Here's another one for you, if you could be so kind?"

______________________


The other guard had dragged the body to the barracks, but didn't take it all the way inside. Instead, he left it under a small roof-area, protected from wind, sun and rain, but still very much outside. He ordered a few other guards to keep watch over the body. He knew he didn't have actual power to command them, but he did it anyways and they seemed too confused to argue against him. Next he had to find some mages or priests or something. With that court-mage gone, he didn't actually know who here in Valton knew something about magic. "Great, a hopeless mission. The Jarl's got to know who's who." He thought and headed to the keep. Inside, however, was as crowded as if the place was an inn. Well, perhaps not -that- crowded, but still awfully busy. It was clear the Jarl didn't have time to spare. He cursed to himself and gave the room a quick look. His eyes fell on a lizard in blue robes. He was dressed as a mage, so the guard figured he'd give it a shot. He walked up to the argonian with a serious look, perhaps too serious, and said.

"Pardon me stranger, but you seem like someone who is familiar with magic and things related to magic." His voice changed to a more friendly tone, when he realized the tone he'd been speaking in was perhaps too serious.
"Anyway, uh, if you do know a thing or two about that, could you be so kind as to follow me to the guard barracks? We've got a..." He paused as he realized how ridiculous and strange it'd sound if he said -dead mage-, so instead he said.
"...situation that requires knowledge we guards don't have." He looked as sincere as he could, it wasn't lie, but he didn't want to scare the lizard either.