[courtnay]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Hold - Valton Farm. Evening.

Roymund trudged through the streets of Valton, both arms swinging loosely by his side. Though the arm still ached, he couldnt resist allowing it the freedom. His thoughts dwelt still on the Argonians question, Drawing on his memories from his service. "Do i really owe the legion my loyalty?" he asked himself "They should have known how Keller was, and that he'd have brought it on himself. I didnt deserve the discharge." As he passed through the edges of town, he could make out a figure in the distance. Somebody was waiting by the fence to Alguidar's farm. It had the broad shoulders of a Nord, which Roymund believed would be Alguidars. Jacquline was probably inside, or tending to her animals.

He found it quiet calming to realise his friends were waiting for him, knowing he wouldnt have to settle down in a strange house alone was quite a comforting thought. "I wonder what ever happend to Pohlmann.." his mind paused, bringing him back into reality just as he approached the farm's grounds. Roymund offered Alguidar a nod of recognition "Hope you wern't waiting on me." he said "I got talking to a priest, he gave my wounds a look over and claims they'll be back to normal in a couple days" he smiled with his last words. He walked through the broken gate, supressing a snigger as he did, and stood next to the Nord. With a brief look towards the farmstead, he noted Jacqueline's figure inside, he returned his sights onto Alguidar "You two been alright?"

[JESSE]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Evening.

Yeah. Hope e'll be back soon." She looked at the fish as Alguidar lit the fireplace. "Not much to do now but wait" he said and walked out to the gateposts, probably to get a hold of Roymund as soon as he returned, or help him if his illness had given him trouble walking.

There was no reason for her to stay inside, and she wanted to get to work on the mannequin as fast as she could while it was still light outside. She went out of the house and to the back where her cart was. She rummaged through it and pulled out a saw and a small axe. She began to cross the farmland, stopping to give Henry a good scratch behind the ear, and went into the forest. She moved around quickly looking for a suitable tree to cut down. It only took her a couple of minutes to find one that was wide enough. She got to work with the axe, making a suitable cut to start using the saw on. In five minutes the tree fell to the ground and she began sawing it into different parts. There was no way she would be able to drag the entire tree back through the forest, so she thought it would be best to part it up now instead.

[Kat Lehmann]

Jormaw, Hela's Folly, Evening.

Jormaw watched as the ranger gave a nod of courtesy to the lizard and walked in a struggling manner out of the inn.
His own thoughts asked of why the topic always hit a nerve with their kind. 'It's almost like they care about such petty disputes.'
The argonian sighed, 'Why can't they learn that such movements do not matter?' His tail feigned into an attempt at being annoyed.

In response to this suspected emotion, Jormaw moved to sit in a nearby dark corner of the room, upon a quaint single chair.
From here he retrieved from his pack (or sling satchel) a little tool. Well, it wasn't tool to most but to him it was a tool of simple music.
A flute in other words. Made from a single shedded ivory scale of a wamasus. It had been his since childhood and he treasured it dearly.

The archein looked at it longingly for a moment before blowing softly into the small instrument. As if one was whistling a drip of sand away.
Earthly tones came out from the bone and after a twist of claw, varieties in pitch came at a varied pace, bellowing quietly throughout the hall.
Jormaw with this went unto a short, daydreaming like state. Inaudible sounds came past him, the humming of the distant Hist making little clear.

His tune of song cycled through many http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQTWteCcRSw http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uv8tYdGTQdY of a similar, reflective nature. The sound only being changed when his thoughts withered or gained.

[Sylvia Luciani]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Evening.

After sawing the tree into the desired pieces, Jacqueline sawed off a thick branch that she would use to make the new handle for Alguidar's axe. She put the tools and the branch down on the ground by a tree so that she wouldn't accidentaly step on them. She squatted down in front of the first piece of wood and made sure she got a good grip on it before she stood back up and began making her way back to the farm. With the big log lying across her arms she carefully stepped through the forest, making sure not to trip on anything.

She placed the wood behind the farmhouse. It would be a good location to work on it. She made the same trip back and forth until she had gathered everything except the tools. She went back into the forest for the last time and picked up the tools and the branch. She had taken about a third of the tree, so there was plenty left for the other things she had planned. With a playful whistle she walked back to the farmhouse.

She brought out her woodworking tools and laid them down on the ground on an old piece of cloth. She then brought the first piece of wood over to the tools and knelt down in front of it. This would be the torso she decided, and began sawing, cutting and carving the wood. The torso was one of the easier pieces so it did not take long before she was finished. She had only given it the right shape. The details would be done when she had the entire mannequin put together.

She put it aside and brought out a new piece. She sawed it in half down the middle and began shaping the two pieces into the two thighs. After that, the legs and feet. She worked fast and methodically, pausing now and then to lay the pieces down on the ground, checking if they were the right scale and shape.

She was so engrossed in her work that she did not notice it getting darker and darker until she had trouble seeing her tools in the darkness. "Oh darn" she laughed to herself and picked up her tools. After she had put them away she pulled out a tarp and gathered all the mannequin parts together with the untouched logs and draqed the tarp over them. She took some stones from the broken well and laid them around the edge of the tarp to keep it in place in case it got windy.

She could feel the cold creeping up on her now. She always had a tendency to just forget about the outside world, and when she finally was able to tear herself away from her work she was both starving and freezing. She opened the door to the barn and called her animals inside. She closed the door and opened the sidedoor to let the cows in so that she could milk them.

[Rodney C]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

Alguidar was enjoying the cold evening air. It reminded him of the climate up north, very different from the warmth of the Rift. In the distance, Alguidar finally spotted movement in the road, the silhouette matched Roymund's but he seemed much healthier. Alguidar leaned forward some more, squinting, trying to make sure through the failing light. "Yes, no doubt that's him." He thought with relief. The thought of looking for him in the night wasn't something he was looking forward to.

Roymund approached the fence and explained that he found a priest that tended to his wound. He was going to recover fully in a couple of days and it already showed in his body language. Alguidar recalled the words of Theseus in their awkward encounter. "Likely the same priest. He must be good."

"You two been alright?" Asked Roymund, already inside the farm.

Immediately after that, Jacqueline left in a hurry, probably to do some work after helping the farmer all day. Like a busy bee, she left without even noticing that Roymund was already there.

"Yes, we made some good coin with those goods." Alguidar paused for a moment. Roymund's situation seemed far more interesting than Alguidar's.

"You look good! You got us worried here. We thought you turned to stone already and were rolling along the road to Riften." Said Alguidar jokingly.

"Now, come on in! There's something we need to know." Said Alguidar as he started walking in the direction of the farmhouse, Roymund following in his footsteps. "Ah, that's right!" Said Alguidar out loud as he remembered something. He untied a bag from his belt and handed it over to the hunter. "Here. The arrowheads."

Alguidar walked through the doorway and up to the table. As Roymund got in, Alguidar pointed in the direction of the salmon, laying on the table. "I didn't take you for a fisherman. What's the meaning of this?"

[Danel]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Evening

Accepting the bag of arrow-heads from Alguidar, Roymund offered a polite nod "I trust the coinpurse was enough to cover Gorbad's services?" he asked as Alguidar guided him towards a salmon displayed on the rooms dining table. The nord asked for an explaination, which Roymund was happy to obliege "Oh, That Argonian popped by earlier to see you. It was how me and him first met, He was looking for you and Jack. I guess it's some kind of peace offering, It felt stupid to refuse free food." He kept his tone in a very matter of fact manner "Though i hope this doesnt offend you." he added for safe measure.

Moving away from Alguidar, Roymund emptied the bag of arrow-heads onto the table. Picking one out from the bunch, he inspected it's craftmanship. The Orc was truthfull when he said they'd be no mere Steel arrow-heads, these looked as if they'd fly straight through his prey. Likely even pierce a heavy infantrymans armour. "Too good for hunting" he told himself "Better keep them for a more important use." He collected up the tips back into the little bag. Roymund had noted the Orc hadnt return his shaft, he wondered if it'd seem petty to ask for that too. Only a piece of wood, but the time taken to ensure it was evenly balanced as not to throw the arrows flight path off was no simple task.

Roymund stored the bag in his travel pack which was by his bedroll, He placed it back down and sat beside it on the ground. Looking over at Alguidar, Roymund offered a grim expression "Bunch of my kinsmen causing trouble down the tavern earlier. Arguing with some ancient Dunmer about war and such like." Roymund was tempted to bring up the Argonians interest in the civil war too, but felt that Alguidar wouldnt enjoy the conversation. Besides, He'd likely lose favour if he told him of his time as a Forester for the legion. The only Nords he'd come across who supported the Empire were those remaining in service to her. Skyrims simpler folk seemed to favour Ulfric Stormcloak. "Cant help but wonder if they're correct" he thought, Laying his head down on his ragged-looking pillow.

[kirsty williams]

Theseus, Chapel of Mara, Evening

The Argonian's voice had a slight teasing tone to it. As if Itan Ru knew a juicy secret that he couldn't wait to tell. Worry crept into the young Redguard. Does he know? No. That's impossible.
But...he is a priest of Mara, maybe he has a gift from the love goddess herself.

Theseus thought over his options in his head and reluctantly concluded that he needed some help on the idiosyncrasies of love, and who better to ask than a priest of love?

"Um, Ru. I can call you Ru right? Well I um I need some advice." Theseus said turning slightly redder than his already natural red skin tone.

[Janeth Valenzuela Castelo]

Itan-Ru, Chapel, evening

Itan-Ru grinned, "Of course you can, and I'll be happy to give you advice on whatever I can." He was highly amused at the Redguard's reaction, and judging from said reaction could reasonably wager that his guess had been correct. He motioned towards the bench nearest to him with his free hand while he set the quill down on the table to give his full attention to Theseus. "Please, sit. And ask away, nothing you say will leave this room, you have my word."

He sat down and faced Theseus, ready to advise him as best he could, and while he was slightly nervous, rarely being asked to give advice at his old home because of his youth, he was confident he could help the man in his endeavor.

[Kara Payne]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

Roymund described the salmon as a gesture goodwill, a peace offering from the fisherman. Then he moved away to inspect his arrowheads. Alguidar stood there in silence, looking at the fish, not sure about what to do with it. He had no trust in the Argonian, eating something handed from him didn't seem advisable. On the other hand, it seemed like a perfectly good fish, it would be a waste to just throw it out. "The lizard payed 10 gold. Why poison us now?" He debated with himself. "Maybe I can get someone else to taste it first" A smile subtly appeared on his face as he found his own thoughts amusing. "Some friend I am..."

He couldn't decide what to do with it so he postponed the decision to think about what needed doing in the farm. Roymund stored the arrowheads away and sat down by his bedroll. Alguidar started thinking ahead. The cows were in bad shape, there was little yield in the morning, maybe he could do something about it. He took his mortar and pestle out of a drawer, putting them over the table. Then he went looking for some spare wheat from one of his crates.

"Bunch of my kinsmen causing trouble down the tavern earlier. Arguing with some ancient Dunmer about war and such like." Said Roymund.

Alguidar took the grain and a leaf, he brought them over to the table and teared them into tiny bits with his hands, letting it fall on the mortar.

"Ah, I also met an Imperial there today. He immediately started an argument. Made me spill the damn milk." More than the argument, losing milk to a feigned pro-Imperial speech was already making him angry. "War. So sad. Nords' heads are rolling as we speak just for worshiping the hero-god. The Empire is not fit to rule anymore. Surrendered to the elves, desecrated our beliefs, killed our people."

Alguidar began mashing the wheat violently with his pestle, crushing the grain a little bit too much than he wanted. He looked at Roymund over his shoulder. It occurred to him that he didn't know his opinion. He always assumed he didn't have a side. "Just a simple huntsman." But he never asked.

"You're not a Nord, Roymund. I don't expect you to understand how we feel. But isn't it a worthy cause? Fighting for our land and culture?"

[Dawn Porter]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Evening

Roymund lay down amongst his Bedroll and belongings, Listening as Alguidar spoke. The farmers logic made then, but goes against everything Roymund had been taught by the Legion. If he'd not been discharged, he would have been one of the people Alguidar spoke off. Killing Skyrims people on the orders of his betters. "I dont have any opinion anymore" he said, his voice lacked the conviction of his normal tones "Do you feel the same of Forsworn? They fight for their beliefs, though i've heard them talked down of by many of your kinsmen."

He sat up again, a grim expression spread across his face. Much of Roymunds service in the Foresters kept him alone in the wilds of The Reach with only a few allies. They'd come across Forsworn more times than he cared to remember, and one their death beds they'd claim repression by the Empire and that they should be given the freedom of other nations such as Hammerfell.

Alguidar was busy with his Mortar and Pestle, Roymund looked across to his Imperial bow placed atop one of Alguidars many crates. "I suppose you're a Stormcloak supporter then, Alguidar? And that you hate all those associated with the Empire?" he asked, his tone gaining aggresion as he contemplated his past "What of your kinsmen who fight amongst the legion? Or those who joined the Legion for bad reasons?"

[Rebecca Dosch]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, evening.

Jack and Alguidar left his forge and began the walk down towards the farm-house as Gorbad began the cleaning of the forge. He made sure to polish every surface of the wooden table, check all his tools, empty the smelter and cool down the forge. As he was carrying stuff inside his house, he saw the hunters arrow-shaft at the far end of the wooden table. Gorbad cursed and chuckled at the same time. How could he have forgot about the shaft? With a shrug, he adjusted its position to be more visible. If Roymund wants it back and came looking for it at the forge, he couldn't miss it.

It was very early for him to go to sleep, but by the time he'd finished cleaning and checking the tools, he couldn't help but yawn. He decided to sit a while by the fire in his house, whilst reflecting on nothing of importance with a mug of wine. He gave Hela's foly one last look before he shut the door to his house, wondering what the citizens of Valton were thinking about. Certainly not the chitin armor, that was for sure.

********
The heat from the fire-place warmed Gorbads old bones in a much different way than the fire from his forge. Where the forge's fire was meant to burn hot, almost as if it was striking anyone who was near, the fire-place's fire was meant to be warm, like the sun on a summer's day. The wine in his belly warmed him from inside as well. He was feeling very sleepy by now. The chair became more and more comfortable as the time passed by. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, fell asleep. Or he would have, if he hadn't fallen down from the chair with a loud bang. He cursed and muttered as he waved his fist left and right, only to realize there was no-one there. "No more wine for me... Hrmmph." he thought as he hauled himself to his bed.

[Thomas LEON]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

"I dont have any opinion anymore. Do you feel the same of Forsworn? They fight for their beliefs, though i've heard them talked down of by many of your kinsmen." Said Roymund, replying to Alguidar's question.

"Maybe." Said Alguidar, absent-minded, as he kept grinding what was left of the wheat. As he heard his own words betraying his beliefs, his mind scrambled for an argument. To concede that the forsworn had a right to part of the land wasn't part of his world view. "Skyrim is the land of the Nords." A truth that has been deeply engraved in him. A truth as obvious as his own existence. He couldn't quite justify it, though. "... but it's different. It was a long time ago. Nords live here now."

"I suppose you're a Stormcloak supporter then, Alguidar? And that you hate all those associated with the Empire? What of your kinsmen who fight amongst the legion? Or those who joined the Legion for bad reasons?" Said Roymund, getting visibly worked up by the subject. Clearly, he had a lot more on his mind than Alguidar thought he would have. As Roymund's tone changed, Alguidar stopped the grinding motion with the pestle, looking back at Roymund, trying to understand the origin of this sudden burst of tension.

"Yes. It's sad. The ones on the other side... I hate what they believe... but I don't hate them. It breaks my heart to see this war rauaging through the land." He made a small pause as he turned around to face Roymund. "But it's them! It's them that are oppressing us! Disrespecting us! Telling us what to believe by decree! I will die with my beliefs before I surrender them to the elves!"

[Nathan Hunter]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Evening.

Roymund listened as the Nord replied, fighting his thoughts as he propped himself up on one of the crates. "Them? Who do you mean?" he asked, offering a questioning look. "I hate these Elves who've turned what was my home into ruin. I've fought side by side with your kin throughout my time. Ok, we served an Empire which was making itself rich by controlling others, but how else would we make a living? I never had the fortune to be born with a skill for archery, nor did i have a family who'd raise me with the skills to tend to farms."

He scowled, disliking that he'd talked of his past. He mind told him not to continue, but he'd worked himself into a rage "You're people hate the Legion, And i understand that. But more often than not, you hate the--.. US for reasons you've not experienced. You think the average soldier personally wants Skyrim under the control of the Empire? I didnt. It concerned me to keep rich people richer, but only to keep myself with enough gold to get through the night. Roymund let out a deep sigh, his face had shown he was already regretting the argument.

"Your stormcloaks fight for a cause, The Legions soldiers fight for a belly full of food after a days work." he tone had quietened "People like that Imperial in the Inn will never understand how one of us thinks, They plan for the battle and how they'd profit from the fight. All we can do is hope to death they share even a seconds thought for the troops their throwing at THEIR enemy.

[Alina loves Alexandra]

Theseus, Chapel of Mara, Evening

"Well um, you see. There's um this girl I met and I I'm not too experienced when it comes to women."

A stray memory passed through Theseus's brain. Him as a 12 year old sneaking into the temple of Dibella. One of the few memories of his long lost childhood that didn't make him cringe. And then another memory...
an awful memory, a memory that haunted him every night since the fateful night it occurred.

I was late. Father got drunk. He was always drunk but tonight he was drunk. You're useless. You're nothing. You killed your mother. Why did you kill her? Why? Why? Why!? The fire. The fire. The fire.

Theseus closed his eyes and ran his fingers around the fist sized burn he kept hidden under his garments.

[Stay-C]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

Alguidar listened to Roymund's tirade in silence as he looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. He stood frozen, trying to make sense of everything he was saying. Alguidar has never seen Roymund like that, the hunter was always much more collected than him. His past came up for the first time, along with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion. His tone went down again as he finished. Alguidar was in disbelief with what he had just heard.

"You --- were with the Legion?"

That was all he could say before turning his back on him. He leaned over the mortar and rested his arms on the table as he stared at the window. He felt sick. His stomach turning upside down. "Housing an ex-Legionnaire in my own home. What would my father think of this?" The thought came to his head that Roymund might have the blood of many fellow Nords in his hands. The anger that quickly arose from the stereotypical Legionnaire in Alguidar's mind, was only stopped by what he knew of Roymund. He wasn't just any ex-Legionnaire. Alguidar gave him shelter, slept under the same roof, laughed with him, ate with him. A hard-worker, a simple man, just like him. But where would he draw the line? He'd never been in this situation before. In Windhelm, everything was simple. The allies were close, the foes were far. In this room, however, he couldn't make out that comforting clear line separating black from white.

Alguidar started replaying Roymund's words in his head. The tale of a soldier on the other side that struggled to put food on the table. He never considered even trying to understand one of them, could there be good men on the other side? This small peek into his story made the line fuzzy. There were only shades of gray, no clear right or wrong, yet, he had to make a choice.

Alguidar grabbed a chair and sat down by the table. He brought his hands together by his beard and finally opened his mouth with a grim look on his face.

"We're all victims in this war together, Roymund. I don't blame you." He paused with a long and audible sigh. "May the Nine help us all."

[ZzZz]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Evening.

Roymund nodded to Alguidar "Appreciate trying to understand, friend." His tone was back to normal, his anger had been released and now he just wanted to rest. He returned to his pack, and searched inside for an old bottle of mead. Alguidar was sat at the table, resting his head in his hands. With a grimace, Roymund turned to collect to mug from the kitchen area of the room before joining him at the table. Remaining standing, He popped open the bottle and poured two half full mugs.

"Skyrim" he said softly "and those who fought for her peace", He raised the drink to his mouth "On both sides." he added, thinking back to those he'd fought besides. Their fates left unknown. "Pohlmann, Varvieter, Volker, Father.. Even Keller". He downed the mug, placed down the mug. He cast a glance at Alguidar, then took a step outside.

He heard Jacqelines voice as she spoke with her animals, and their calls pvssyring away in responce. He walked around side of the house, past the well to where he and Alguidar had met three days prior. He slumped down agaisnt the wall, keeping his body in the shade as to stop Jacqueline from seeing him. He shivered gently in the nights cold air, casting his thoughts back over his past. "Sorry, brothers." he said in a grim whisper. He prepared himself to wait here a couple hours, until his two companions were sleeping, before he'd return and join them.

[Jesus Sanchez]

Helas' Folly, evening
Leandra

The music provided a good backdrop to Leandra's thoughts, though consumed as she was by them she didn't even take the time to turn her head and investigate where it was coming from - it may as well have not really been there, for all she knew. She heard things that weren't real often enough, and if this was one of those times at least she was hearing something pleasant for now.

In the shady corner of the inn, with a bottle of cheap wine, she could finally take the time to arrange her thoughts and assess everything, from her first day in Valton to future prospects.

Seems clear enough that your fortunes for now are tied to this quest to find the court-mage. You find her, you build some goodwill with the Jarl, possibly establish yourself in what feeble market there is for mercenary work in this Molag's armpit of a hold capital.

While the music continued to pour from the flute, the Nibenese brought the neck of her bottle up to her lips, eyes glazed and distant. So much like glass did their blue seem, you could almost see the reflection of the whole room with all its little details in them; yet the warm, flickering tongues of the inn's fireplace eclipsed all else, fixed on them as her gaze was. The day was over for her, and even though it was far from the most exciting day she'd had, chances to sit and reflect were all too rare in her life, and she clung to each and every one she could get when the mood took her.

And the problem remains only to find her... little detail. Made up of even smaller details, each of which you need to spot and connect for a picture to emerge. Absent-mindedly, she caressed the crossbow lying before her on her table. Even the Dwemer devices beneath the fabric of her trenchcoat seemed to be overtaken by the calm, with only a silent, monotonic clang before every puff of smoke to disturb the quiet in the mercenary's corner.

Slowly, she took a sip of the wine. Vampire dust.

Vampire dust...

A ladder conveniently left nearby served as the raise she needed to climb to the upper reaches of the towering bookshelves, spiraling upwards and upwards, towards a distant ceiling. Soft fingers, not at all like her fingers now, brushed along the backs of thick tomes, lingering over the handles of scrolls before moving on... There was no fear she'd lean too far to the side and fall, no possibility for her to fall - this was her home, she was safe here. Nothing ever changed, aside from new tomes being added, new pages piled on top of old ones.

There it was, an unassuming scroll among a pile of others almost identical to it. She hadn't needed it for years, but she knew precisely where it was, placed there what seemed like ages ago.

Vampire dust, words scribbled in a prim and proper script. There were but a few lines, regrettably - she'd never known much of alchemy, but nevertheless something had been hammered into her head by her tutor during the years spent in the Synod. Hate it she may have then, but there was a degree of thankfulness now as she recalled those old teachings.

'The precise alchemical properties of vampiric dust left after the termination of a vampire are difficult to discern and appear to vary depending on the descent of the vampire - differences having been noted in comparing samples from Vvardenfell, the Nibenay and southern Skyrim - but some general qualities can be ascribed to this most unusual of ingredients nonetheless. Consumed raw - as distasteful as that may sound - or after minimal refinement and inclusion, with other fitting ingredients, into a potion, they appear to grant a fraction of vampires' resistance to all manner of physical ailments. Several samples - most notably, all those from Skyrim - also demontrated the capability to grant momentary invisibility, which, if combined with the appropriate refinement and ingredients, might allow the creation of potent invisibility potions.'

Leandra shook her head slightly; the tower and the endless bookshelves disappeared, as if brushed aside by an invisible hand. Again, the cozy interior of a typical Nordic inn stood before her, the pleasant coolness of a tower replaced by the warmth of fire that made her rather drowsy. It took her a moment to remember where precisely she was, what the establishment was called and why was she there. It was all too easy for anyone to become lost in thought, made only easier by the mercenary's peculiar, winding mind.

Not incredibly useful, but it's something. With another sip of the wine, she set the bottle down, focusing instead on the appetizing small portion of meat before her. She would have to think more, go through everything she'd seen in the court-mage's tower - not just the vampire dust, which seemed the most obvious clue but probably wasn't the only one - and worry about questioning the locals tomorrow - but later. Now, she'd enjoy her first decent meal in what must've been a month and try to find the most comfortable position for sleep on her chair.

[Shaylee Shaw]

Jormaw, Hela's Folly, Evening.

A drop of memory came into the lake of the saxhleel's dreams. 'Dro gon miek so jun si mah, the spider is lost in her own web.'
With this Jormaw removed himself from his relaxed position and approached the daedra hunter, still quietly playing his tune.

His body had moved into a seating position opposite to her, his slitted eyes only opening now in view of her, her meal, as well as some wine.
He smiled and in a quiet tone, spoke a few mysterious words: "Your shelf is too small, yet too large, for the tomes you are burdened with."
Jormaw gave a nod to the woman. His gesture was to leave that to settle in her own mind when she so desires it. Twas' being as an odd token.

The archein in curiosity took a sip of her wine, pondering the taste before settling on a summary. 'Alto? what an odd drink for a noble woman.'
A tongue wavered in wonder, "I did not know the nibenese had such a sweet tooth for Alto. I myself prefer the Tamika brand for taste."
The short comment ended with a scratch to the chin and a look over of where Leandra's little graft of a contraption is found, thoughts came to speculate-

'This one looks to be an alchemist of history. Brewing concoctions of absurdity or wonderful lunacy with the tools of mind, as well as ponder.'
In this intent the lizard had narrowed his eyes a little, coming to look at the people shrouding the inn in distraction. His own words catching him off guard.

[meghan lock]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Evening.

As I came back to the table Titus was attempting to calm me down. Saying that the Telvanni is weak and there is no point of arguing with the old Elf.

"You're right. I wonder if the very group he was so proudly to be a part of betrayed him but his pride and arrogance is too great for him to admit it happened. Bastard is boasting about how great his country is when now it is nothing more than a wasteland. I bet you he is in this town because the Telvanni put a bounty on his head when they still existed. In fact; I would of asked him why he's in Valton; but he might get so pissed he'll shoot a lightning bolt out of his ass at me."

I chuckled a little at the joke. Then Again; The Telvanni may be capable of doing something like that.

[Max Van Morrison]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Evening

Titus smiled at the joke, and having calmed Danus down, he noticed the drinks still hadn't arrived. He frowned. Where was the innkeeper that was here this morning, he thought. He looked over towards the counter. The innkeeper didn't seem to be there. Titus muttered a curse under his breath, hoping the innkeeper got back to doing his job soon. He turned back to Danus, and said,"When do you think our drinks are going to get here? I know there are other customers, but I hope we don't have to wait too bloody long."

[Mr. Allen]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Evening.

I nodded at the fact that the innkeeper is raking too long. Must be taking a piss. After a few minutes I finally had enough. And I need to tell the jarl about that stormcloak supporter before it gets too late.

"I need to go to the keep. I have to tell the Jarl about what you reported to me. I'll be back shortly."

I then got up, walked out of the inn, and head right towards the keep. as I entered I approached the Jarl.

"This is not another attempt for me to convince you to side with the empire. Instead It is merely a little warning. Do you know that farmer that lives south of Valton? Well he openly claimed, infront of many citizens, that he supports Ulfric's cause. I'm not telling you to arrest him but you should keep an eye on him."

I left the hall before the Jarl will say something that will surely be another no and some insult. After a few minutes I went back to the inn and checked to see if Titus was still there. If it takes too damn long to get an Argonian ale I'm going to get out of the inn.

[Eduardo Rosas]

Spoiler

Name: Lokir
Age: 26
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2"
Birthsign: The Steed

Appearance: He looks even younger then he is with a very unblemished, round and hairless face. Rather pale complexion. Large, light blue eyes. A short, flat nose. Wispy, wavy blond hair. A slight, wiry build.
Class (what would you describe your character as?): Merchant and Spy
Skills and known spells (if any): Decent with small blades and a crossbow. A decent enough merchant. Speedy and agile, very good at climbing and moving quickly and quietly. Can pick locks well and can set and disarm traps. An exceptional liar and public speaker as well.
Clothing / armor: Assortment of basic, middle class clothing. No armor.
Weapons: A short iron blade. A medium-weight wooden crossbow.
Miscellaneous items: Small coin with a symbol showing he's a Stormcloak, but only know to other rebels, or those very knowledgeable of Stormcloak espionage (I cannot stress that enough).

Personality: Quite serious about his role, he will not mess around when it comes down to getting work done. However, he can play many personalities depending on what his job requires, moving between sarcastic, drunk, angry, comedic and everything in between.
Major flaw: Despite his skills, he is still young and thus rash in some of his decisions.
Background: Grew up in a very anti-Empire family, so he naturally joined the Stormcloaks. He is only a mediocre soldier however, despite his decent skill with a blade, so he applied his talents to the rebellion to act as a spy. He has done two minor jobs so far, on in Whiterun and one in Solitude, both trying to weed out informers, and he has had success on both of them. Now he has been assigned to this new hold that has sprung up to see if any notable people are in the settlement, as well as to see if the Imperials plan on interfering in the city and to determine where the Jarl's loyalties lie, along with the general populace's.

Spoiler

Name: Alessandra
Age: 23
Race: Nibenese (Imperial)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'8"
Birthsign: The Warrior

Appearance: Like her "husband" she looks very young, even for someone who is 23. She has a thin face, with short, straight black hair and narrow green eyes. She is fairly short, and also quite thin and wispy, definitely not an obvious physical threat.
Class (what would you describe your character as?): Merchant, Illusionist and Spy
Skills and known spells (if any): Enough skill with a blade to defend herself adequately but not much beyond that. Good at Illusion magicks, able to cast strong Charming spells, as well as blinding flashes of light, Invisibility, and Calm spells. Supplements this with decent skill in Destruction, mainly used to supplement her torturing skills. Also good at moving silently, and is quite acrobatic.
Clothing / armor: No armor. Assortment of basic middle-class clothing.
Weapons: A small iron blade.
Miscellaneous items: Small coin with a symbol showing she's a Stormcloak, but only know to other rebels, or those very knowledgeable of Stormcloak espionage (I cannot stress that enough).

Personality: By all accounts she is a charming young lady with a winning smile, bright eyes and an innocent, youthful outlook on life. Like her "husband" she can play any number of personalities, and is not afraid of confrontation with most people. In private however, she is quite sadistic and also very serious about her job. She is capable of torturing captives for information, and doesn't seem to have any problem with doing it.
Major flaw: Like her partner, she is very young and rash, and her lack of powerful offensive skills can mean trouble if she doesn't calm your mind with her strong Illusion magick.
Background: Although she was born in Cyrodiil, she has lived in Skyrim with her family for most of her life. This is generally due to her parents disliking the way the Empire was going, and this led to her entire family joining the Stormcloak rebellion when it began. Soldiering was out of the question for her, but she quickly and naturally found a position in espionage. This is her first major job in the field, though she has done a few basic tracking jobs on targets before, and has been used by several soldiers to "interrogate" Legion captives.

Lokir, Hela's Folly

This tavern was no different from any other tavern in Skyrim, from the layout to the drinks to the people who filled it. And it was indeed a full house tonight, as people began showing up in great numbers. Lokir had taken a seat near the fire, and had watched with great amusemant at the loud arguments that had fileld the bar. He had been friendly, laughing and greeting people near him, though he hadn't engaged in any real conversation yet. Spies who sat in the corner with their cloaks over their heads in a mysterious way brought on too much attention. Lokir knew the game well.

His head was already filled with mental notes, and he hadn't been in town for a night yet. Alessandra was back at their home that was also their jewelry shop, setting things up for their grand opening in the morning as well as setting up their security measures and sound-proofing the basemant. Lokir had already marked the old Dunmer (and apparent Telvanni) as "interesting but not likely involved in the war". The Imperial he was arguing with intigued Lokir more. Nothing was said about any alligiences but the man clearly reacted defensively when the Dunmer insulted the Empire.

Him and that fellow he's talking to. thought Lokir, making a mental note, as he cheerfully cheered and jeered the two verbal combatants, slopping some of his drink on the floor as if he were quite drunk. He continued his observations as the tavern generally quieted down, soft music coming from an Argonian in the corner. Lokir was having a simple conversation with a man who was apparently a member of the town guard, but this was a cover as he watched individuals move around the tavern, observing who was talking with who.

[sarah taylor]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

"Aye!" Said Alguidar as both him and Roymund gulped down the ale. Roymund immediately left the house, leaving Alguidar to his thoughts. He had a blank look on his face as if he was lost in his thoughts, but there wasn't much going on in his head --- or maybe there was too much and that was the problem. Sometimes you need to let it all sink in on its own before you can start to make sense of it. This was one of those times.

He realized that he had been staring in the eyes of the fish the whole time. "Ah... why the hell not...?" He thought as his hunger took a hold of him. He was clueless about how to cook it but he was confident it shouldn't be a big deal. "Hmph... beef, venison, fish... it's all meat."

He threw it in a pan along with some salt and herbs. He also began cooking a few potatoes on the side. As he waited, he remembered what the conversation with Roymund's had interrupted. His healthy potion for the cows. He looked over the mortar and noticed the wheat was a little too ground. A rookie's mistake, it will decrease its effectiveness but it should still work. Only one thing was missing but he had seen it in the outside of the farm's fence. He quickly walked out and there they were, three blue mountain flowers. He took one, he shouldn't need any more. It was its unique underlying composition, that was also responsible for reflecting blue light, that gained peculiar regenerative properties when activated by molecules in the wheat. It was also one of the few recipes that also worked on cows.

He walked back in, noticing that the fish's smell that was leaving the house was actually quite appealing. That or his hunger was talking louder. He poured the grain into his empty mug, then he put the flower in the mortar and started grinding it separately. When it was all one homogeneous powder, he mixed it all up in the mug and added some water.

"That should do it." He thought as he picked up on a familiar smell. "Yes, this just like what I smelled at..." He paused with his eyes wide open looking at the pan before finishing his thought with a scream.

"GORBAD'S!"

He ran to the pan, taking it away from the fire and quickly submerged its base inside a bucket with water. "By the Nine!" He said out loud, as the steam hit his face. As the pan cooled a bit, he dropped the pan on the table and took the fish into a wide bowl where he also added the potatoes. His eyes were fixated on the fish as he searched for a fork and a knife with his hands. It looked burnt on one side but the other still looked fine. He cut half of the good part and put it in his plate, along with a potato.

He sat there for a moment before putting a slice in his mouth. He was too hungry not to do it, but he thought he might need some guarantee. He closed his eyes and started talking. "Talos. If you'd be so kind to head my call, a humble worker of your land. If there's poison in this fish, please, let it be known to me with a sign." He opened his eyes and waited for a minute. His eyes moving from side to side, expecting something to fall or the fish to just burst into flames.

Nothing happened. Alguidar then confidently brought a slice of fish to his mouth. There was nothing wrong with it, it had the same texture that he remembered from the rare occasions he ate salmon. He quickly devoured everything he had on the plate. His overwhelming focus on his duties made him forget of how little he ate the whole day. He decided to leave some still there in case Jacqueline wanted to eat it.

He was tired. The thought of lying in his bed was starting to sound strangely appealing. However, the day wasn't over yet. He picked up the mug with his potion and stepped out of the farmhouse. He went around it and found Roymund resting against the wall. He seemed to have a lot on his mind. Alguidar figured he wanted to be alone after the exchange inside. Something Alguidar understood all too well.

He tried not to bother the hunter and continued on his way to the barn. He opened the door, the cows were on their way to the milkroom and Jacqueline was probably there. He walked over to the wooden tank with the cows' water and poured the potion into it. This wasn't going to cure any diseases but it would speed up recovery from the poor health condition they were in.

Finally, he was starting to feel that the world was slowing down again. The day felt like a race and now that he felt as if he was crossing the finish line, he was allowing himself to relax. He slowly walked to the side room where he saw Jacqueline. He leaned against a wall still holding his mug.

"The fish. I cooked it. It's not bad. There's some left for you." He paused, remembering her concerns about it. "Look! I'm still standing!" He said with a smile, hiding his thoughts of how ironic it would be if he just dropped dead right now.

[Umpyre Records]

Nuramon, His house, Evening

As Roland was making his way towards the door and introduced himself Nuramon couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t going to get far without any help. His thoughts were very fast confirmed when he saw Roland reaching out for the wall. Instead of finding holdfast, he tumbled and fell to the ground.

Nuramon went over to the unconscious man, removed the backpack and weapons again before picking Roland up again. “I told you you’d need some rest. I love it when I’m right.” He muttered with a smile. He threw him over his shoulder and carried him back to the couch where he dropped him in. He pondered the thought of waking him up again. Namira’s Rot should do the trick, stinking mushroom. But decided he’d better let the man sleep.

He looked around his living room and made sure everything was clean and there was no blood left on the table to cloth. He then locked his door and immediatle went to bed.

Daikanos, evening.

By the time he opened his eyes again, he noticed it was already dark. and his headache was as good as gone, together with his moody and grumpy mood. He climbed out of the hot spring and used a quick spell to dry himself. He then put on his clothes again and took his sword in hand, before making his way back to the keep.

He remembered Radwulf wanted to talk to him about his uncourtly manners, but figured the gloomy and doomy man would know the way to the captain’s quarters and would visit him when he’d see fit. I’ll probably have to do some ass-licking again. If not I’ll just move on. There are enough other places where I can go anyway.

He walked through the empty streets straight to the keep. He made his way to his chambers, put his sword on a rack, undressed and lay down in his bed. Hoping for a better night than last.

[celebrity]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Evening

Titus watched as Danus left to talk to the Jarl. He turned back to the counter, hoping the innkeeper had appeared. He hadn't. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed when Danus came back in.
"That was quick", Titus said as his fellow Imperial came back. He didn't want to ask about what had happened up at the keep. Danus didn't seem angry or annoyed, but seeing how quickly it took to anger him, Titus didn't want to risk getting his employer in a bad mood again. He decided to focus on what to do next.
"So, now that you have alerted the Jarl to the sympathiser, what are you going to do next? Is there anything else I can do?"
Titus wondered what more use Danus could have for him. Valton was quiet, especially for a new hold. Hopefully something exciting would happen. Working for the Empire was great, but money and some appreciation sometimes weren't enough. Titus was eager to spill some more blood. Even in Cyrodiil, there had been some work to do, some bandits to kill. He was starting to wonder if he should sign up as guard. There was a steady wage, and maybe he could rise to captain, if he worked at it. But first, he should see what Danus had to say.