[Darlene DIllow]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Helas' Folly. Morning

Roymund looked between the two Argonians blankly as they mentioned the Hist. He'd heard it's name past around, but knew very little of it. "Ears of unthinking trance upon hateful scalps here" he thought "Whats that suppose to mean? is he talking about me?". As Roymund was preparing to excuse himself from the conversation, the fisherman turned on his and requested his company during the evening. He took a short moment before replying, "Wouldnt mind a look out in the wilds anyway.. and how can turn down money in this climate?" The Hunter offered a nod of acceptance "Very well, I'd be happy to accompany you. I have fair skill with a blade, though i shall bring my bow all the same."

"Lets hope we run into a stray wolf, may be able to afford a home here soon enough" he thought, alittle grin crept across his face. "I'm sure you trade isnt a loud one, so unless we should be safe enough providing we're not being tracked." he replied, his voice didnt sound entirely full of conviction. "Should we meet at your shack, or do you have somewhere else in mind?" he asked, adopting what he'd describe as his businessmans stance.

[Philip Rua]

Jormaw, Outside Hela's Folly, Morning.

The argonian replied in a serious, yet earnest manner to Roymund's matter of whereabouts, whilst scratching his chin in his usual 'thinking' gesture.
"North of the gray road from the farm your father and sister live in- you should find a strange rock formation, off the western tracks."

"We shall meet there when the sun wanes, Land-Strider. When the cold blows, the owls hoot and your arms go stiff near a tree's jostle."
His voice as per usual was unthinking, poetic yet slanted. To Jormaw, he was being truthful to the nature of Seth and did not think of repercussions.

[Lance Vannortwick]

Nellis Nelsh, Valton Farm, Morning

Alguidar looked surprised at Nellis's defense of Argonians and Dunmer. Most Nord's in Windhelm hate the Mer and Beast-folk that reside in Windhelm with a passion. Given Nordic history, it's an unsurprising judgement. Perhaps if Nellis was raised by his Grand Father, he would have been a typical Nord. Instead, Nellis was almost an Imperial in his manner of behavior. Made him stick out like a sore thumb in Windhelm. Also made the locals rather happy when he left. Alguidar apologized for the joke, and Nellis sighed.

"Sorry for that flip out. It's just that you sounded like some of the more close-minded Nords in Windhelm. But, you are right. No matter if we support Ulfric or Mede, hard working Nords like you and me need to stick together!" Nellis said, his spirits feeling lifted from anger.

[Chenae Butler]

Jarl Radwulf Spurvhauke, Gudslott Hall, Morning

Erutáron wanted to give a mere 500 septims for the stables, but also one of the horses. In the end, the horse would eat away at the Jarl's treasury as it needed food and water. Instead, the Jarl said:
"How about 500 septims now and 500 septims in a few days time once you get the business going, and the possibility of hiring one of the horses for free should the need arise?" He doubted he or anyone in his keep would need to hire a horse, but it was better to sell the stables for a bit more gold than having a horse around to eat up all the wealth of the keep.

From the corner of his eye, the Jarl could see Sarya moving away from the keep. The exchanged a quick nod before she went outside. "I hope Alfhed has that situation cooled down..." He heard raised voices from outside during the short time the door was opened to Sarya. "Apparently not." He thought and turned his attention back to Erutáron.

[El Goose]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Helas' Folly. Midday.

"Father and sister? .. Oh" thought Roymund, struggling to way up the Argonians riddled speech. "Those two are not my relatives, though i understand our waypoint." He half-lied "The strange formations alittle north of the road, whilst the sun is setting." He offered a nod of understanding. He remembered some jutting rocks on his journey to Valton, they did look out of place to the other nearby formations. "Very well, now if you'll excuse me i have some errands to run." he offered a smile to both Argonians "See you tonight, Jormaw, and keep safe, Itan-Ru."

He then proceeded to walk away towards the general store, his mind still pondering on one of the Argonians riddles "For ears of unthinking trance upon hateful scalpes.." Roymund grimaced to himself in responce, unable to figure out it's common meaning. He could hear raised voices coming from the Jarls keep, but felt it better to deal with the matter at hand. He'd already been distracted once, though had gained a nights employment from it. He pushed open the General Stores door and stepped inside, noting Annika standing behind the counter in her usual manner.

He approached, "Ah, i trust you're feelig better? I've not seen you out and about for a day or two." he spoke as he gazed around the shops merchandise "I hope the meats i sold you were to your requirements. Say, do you sell Fig Sap? I'm picking some up for a friend and havent the foggiest idea of what it looks like. I presume it comes in some kind of bottle.." he paused, glaring at the large assortment of various meads, ales and tipples of all kinds, then turned to face Annika in expectance of an answer.

[Jade MacSpade]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Midday.

A gust of wind brought the sweet scent of apples to her nose and her stomach began rumbling furiously. She laid down her tools and got to her feet, stretching her sore muscles. Her back cracked lightly as she raised her arms and twisted her torso. Her muscles always got a bit sore and stiff after working in the same position for so long. Her stomach rumbled again and she remembered that she hadn't eaten breakfast yet. Maybe the others had not had breakfast either.
She took a moment to scratch an itch on her head as she looked at the shiny apples hanging heavily on the trees. It would be rude to leave her work to go eat without having the housemaster's permission, but the apples were so tempting. Jacqueline figured she had to get away from the scent of apples to keep her stomach from growling louder than a mountain lion, so she picked up her saw and hammer and went into the farmhouse to fetch the nails she had bought the day before.

After taking the hinges off of the original gate, which was quite easy as the woodwork was completely rotten, she began measuring, sawing and hammering on the farm's new entrance gate. The smell of sawdust contributed to cover over the smell of sweet, sweet apples.

[SiLa]

Daikanos, The Keep, Morning

Just the what was probably the largest Orc he had ever seen came up nad launched a fist as big as a plate at him. He hardly remembered the last time someone tried to punch him, but he did remember the other guy ended up with some broken ribs. However that man was nothing like the Orc infront of him now.

He ducked underneat the punch and moved forward, using his speed to kneekick the Orc in the abdomen. He could feel the Orc collaps a little bit, as the Orc took a step back. But mere seconds later he could feel himself being picked up in the air and with a loud growl he started flying through the air like a ragdoll.

He had always wanted to fly, but not in this weekend. He had never seen the move coming. As soon as he started flying, his airborne state ended. He crashed with his back againt the large gates of the keep, making a lot of noise in the process. When he slowly crawled back up he felt a surge of pain going straight from his lower back all the way up to his neck. He grinded his teeth and did his best to ignore the pain, with a litlle bit of succes.

He was already starting to draw his sword while the heat inside was building up, when he saw a guard had already stepped forward and held his sword to the big Orc’s throat. At the same time a whole bunch of guards had readied their bows and weapons. A redguard even held his own sword at the goblin’s neck.

The situation was turned for the better, so much seemed clear to him. Tthere was no need to cause a bloodbath and he figured the Jarl wouldn’t be to happy about having one at his doorstep. He started breathing in and out slowly to get himself under control again. After a few seconds he felt like he had himself under controle again and took a step forward.

Another surge of pain went through his back and he had to clench his teeth together. “take them all to the dungeons.” He ordered his guards. “The big one will wait for his sentence, while the little one will be given the chance to wait peacefully until the Jarl wishes to see him.”

He saw the large centipede still ready to attack the man holding the sword at the little Orc’s neck and readied himself to take the beast down. “Call your pet down before I turn it into a great ball of fire!” He ordered angrilly.

[Laura Ellaby]

Gawain, NW Bridge into Valton, Midday

The new hold lay before him, seemingly carved out of the forest and the surrounding mountains, as Gawain's wagon pulled up to the bridge that lay just northwest of the town. The dog breeder paused but for a second before flicking the reins and guiding the horse onto the bridge and around the recent remains of several other wagons, upon which Gawain examined with curiosity and slight concern. The dogs he let roam near the wagon immediately set to sniffing and rummaging through it, but a quick, sharp whistle followed by a one-word command in Nibenese, brought them back to their respective stations just in front of and beside the wagon.

The bridge dumped him out at what appeared to be the main thoroughfare through the town, and Gawain proceeded down it slowly, taking in everything with an interest. After all, this could well be his new home. He had passed several interesting sights, including a beached ship of an interesting design, a trio of what looked to be the sailors of the aforementioned craft, and several more. However, by far the most interesting was what met him as he approached what he assumed to be the Keep, where he once again assumed that he could meet with the leader of this place, which they called a Jarl. Why they called it such, and not simply a prince or king or other regular title of nobility, was lost to Gawain. Inwardly, he would criticize it, but outwardly, he would respect it. After all, if he were to get a prime piece of whatever real estate was left, he would have to be respectful, at the very least.

Whistling again, he halted his little party just short of the confrontation in front of the Keep as it was apparently ending. An Orc, what looked to be a mix between a Dwarf and an Orc, and some other weird creature all had weapons pointed at them from more directions than just the guards, a Redguard who was not in the attire of a guardsman held the sword at the neck of the Dwarf of an Orc, and a Dunmer, who also did not wear the armor of a guardsman, but clearly commanded them, in particular. Gawain's fiercest dogs had their teeth bared and were emitting low growls towards weird looking creature, but they knew well enough to stay with their master and to not attack without his command. Resting a hand on the head of the old wolfhound, Forsta, that sat beside him, Gawain called out. "When this situation is over, I would like a word with the Jarl, if and whenever possible, please."


(OOC: sorry for the bad post. Still very sleep deprived.)

[Roanne Bardsley]

(OOC: Crappy posts. It has been a very very long weekend for me, just trying to not fall behind.)

Varyn, Valton Keep


Varyn watched as the action escalated and couldn't help but laugh. During the middle of the action he saw his opportune time.

"Hurry Frederick! Into the keep!"

The small metallic contraption clicked lightly and took off towards the large doors of the keep, Varyn close behind being drug on his trunk.

Once inside the Dwemer automaton maneuvered into the main hall next to a Bosmer. When he stopped Varyn stood up on top of the dark brown chest, a regal look upon his face.

"You there, king-man-person. I need somewhere to sleep while my house grows. I take it you will furnish such a lodging for me?"


Roland, Nuramon's House - Hela's folly


Roland woke much more peacefully this time. Seeing as his caretaker was not awake yet he hobbled over to his belongings and once again strapped his sword belt on and swung his pack over his shoulder. This time he decided to deal with the pain. He opened the door of the house and walked out into the street. After looking around for a second he found his horse. He untied it's lead rope and walked it into the center of the town. It was not long until he spied the inn. The ranger walked up and tied his horse off, not speaking a word to anyone around. When he was satisfied that his mount would not run off he walked into the inn and took a seat at the bar. He ordered a mug of ale to calm his mind.

[Laura Samson]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

Nellis accepted Alguidar's apology and apologized in return for the angry reply. Alguidar connected the dots and figured that Nellis wasn't just fond of Dunmer and Argonians, he was clearly not a fan of the rebellion. He met other Nords that favored the Empire before, but he could never understand them. He settled for the fact that Valton was going to be much different from his old home, that much was obvious by now, so there was no point in starting an argument with every single person in the hold. He knew that the rebellion was a noble cause but he also knew that, outnumbered as the movement was in this hold, he'd better pick his fights.

Alguidar dropped the gold coins inside a coin purse in his belt and started to think about what he still had to do. The morning was already ending and again, he still didn't had breakfast, a habit that had better stop. Alguidar made a mental note to make sure he'd wake up earlier tomorrow.

"Ah! That's ok. Well, I'm sure we both have work to do. Come back if you need anything!" Said Alguidar with a smile, as he prioritized his duties in the back of his head.

[Your Mum]

Jarl Radwulf Spurvhauke, Gudslott Hall, Midday

The guards and Alfhed must've failed to keep the situation under control, Radwulf figured, as an old dunmer riding a trunk pulled by a dwemer spider entered the hall. The bosmer didn't even have enough time to reply to the Jarl as the dunmer spoke, seeking a place to stay at just like everyone else.

"We do indeed have houses for sale, but it seems you want to hire or rent it, instead of purchase? May I suggest one the houses next to the general store?" He looked back at Erutáron and then turned his attention to Alfhed, who had just entered the keep with a very tragic look on his face. "You can discuss payment with the young scribe Alfhed." He said loud enough for Alfhed to hear. The young scribe looked up and nodded. The heated situation outside had stabbed his pride, but only a little bit. There was nothing he could've done to negotiate with Orcish brutes.

"Payment for what, exactly?" Alfhed asked with a curious look, pen and paper ready. The Jarl was now listening to what Erutáron had to say, letting the dunmer speak for himself.

[Abi Emily]

Itan-Ru, Outside Hela's Folly, Midday

Itan-Ru had had a very busy morning. Two healings, back to back, and ,eeting another of his own kind who had actually been to Argonia. He was still a bit starstruck by that one. Though his eagerness had gotten the better of him in his questions and Jormaw had gently reminded him that some things are meant only for certain ears. And knowledge of the HIst was not meant for even an honorable man such as Roymund. At least, that's what he thought the cryptic message meant

He stood up as Roymund left, returning his wish of good fortune, and discovered that he had regained enough of his energy to make his way back to the Chapel, though he decided to stay and wait for Erutaron to come and retrieve his horse. He would watch the animal and ensure it didn't harm itself somehow before he got back to it. So he returned to the bench, which had a clear view of the beast, and sat once again, though at least this time he didn't look like he had a hangover.

[Pat RiMsey]

Varyn - Gudslott Hall, Valton - Midday



Varyn listened as the weary looking Nord upon his high seat addressed him. The Dunmer was not amused by his answer, which was mirrored upon his wrinkled old face. In the Telvannis Isles when a Mage-Lord wanted something in was in your best interest to accommodate his wishes. Otherwise your life would end in some excruciatingly painful manner - Varyn favored lighting people on fire or feeding them to starved slaves. The old mer stared at the Jarl with his deep burgundy eyes. He completely ignored what the man had said, as well as the entrance of what appeared to be his young scribe. It was probably in the boys best interest Varyn paid no mind to him; the old mer had a sketchy past with scribes.

"Bah! You think I'm going to pay for a house in the middle of this little hovel of a town?" Varyn almost lost his balance and tumbled off the trunk as he cackled his raspy laugh once again, "I want something build up there on that hill where I'm growing my citadel. Far away from all these imbeciles and fetchers," the old mer eyed the Bosmer next to him, tempting him to try and touch the dark trunk under his feet, "Send your people to that shack they call an inn. I'll tell them where to put my house."

Varyn spun on his heel, forgetting that he was on top of the trunk, and almost tumbled onto the floor. He caught himself midair and sat down firmly on the dark wooden lid of his chest. A look of pride and superiority was still plastered onto his face. "Back to the inn Frederick! I need a drink."

The bronze-gold spider made a wide arc around the hall, turning the trunk back towards the door. His little metal legs made a series of rhythmic thuds as the dug into the wooden floor. Varyn eyed the scribe as he passed by. He kept his eyes locked on the boy in a very eery stare as he exited the keep. The duo then made their way back to the inn. Varyn took a seat at the table near his pile of junk. Still sitting on his trunk, he picked up the book he had been reading the night before and started where he left off. Occasionally he would mumble something in Dunmeri about "Damned trees" and "Why in the name of Azura do I have to do that? Why can't I just make the damn thing grow?".

[Ashley Hill]

Roymund Inventius, General Store. Midday.

Roymund looked at the nordic storeowner with a questioning expression, awaiting her reply to his request of fig sap. "Oh! Err.. I've not seen any about lately, but let me check in the stores. Please, come back later and i'll try fish some out for you." she replied in a startled, yet friendly tone. "Very well, I'll be back before evening" said Roymund, turning on the spot. "Suppose she must be busy, what with all the newcomers settling in lately.." he thought, stepping out onto Valtons streets.

Raised voices were still coming from outside the Jarls keep, though they're tone had lowered. "Havent got much to do 'cept see the Jarl and pickup some supplies.. Why not?" he thought, endulging himself in his curiousity. As he approached the scene, he note the Dunmer captain standing over a brute, even by Orc standards, with his weapon drawn. A handful of guards surrounded the scene too, and the Redguard from Itan-Ru's chapel was amongst them with his sword also drawn and aimed to the smaller Orc. "Eh?" he grumble aloud, clearly taken back by the Orcs lesser-form. "Poor bugger.. Bad enough to look like an Orc but without the benefits of their build?" The huntsman let out a sigh, this scene would prove an annoyance in his task to gain audience with the guard.

Taking a few steps away, The Imperial lent himself up against one of the nearby trees permitted to grow within the towns limits. He watched the fellows involved, keeping eye out for his chance to slip through them and into the keep. "Perhaps their not even waiting for the Jarl.." he wondered.

OOC; Poor filler post.

[Heather beauchamp]

Nellis Nelsh, Valton Farm, Morning.

Nellis nodded, realizing that he had spent far too much time at the farm. He needed to eat his newly bought breakfast, and later on, work at the mine.

"It's been a pleasure, Alguidar. Hopefully we can chat some other day. Now, I need to head to mine." said Nellis.

He took the apples with him, taking a few bites from another. His mind was focused on the fact that the farmer seemed to be such a strong supporter of Ulfric and his thugs. Then again, not every Stormcloak was so kind. Most were spouting out nonsense about being "True Sons of Skyrim." and the superiority of the Nordic race. To Nellis, they were just Thalmor in a Nord's armor.

Making a stop at the inn to two more apples, the miner went off his workplace, ready to work until his break around Midday.

[Isaac Saetern]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Gudslott Hall. Midday.

As Roymunds eyes surveyed over the unfolding scene outside Gudslott Hall, he noted an Imperial-looking man standing beside his wagon of dogs. One of which stood out, an old wolfhound by the looks of it. Judging by the expression on the mans face, he too was awaiting entry to see the Jarl and didnt wish to be involved with the guards and the Orcs. "Cant hurt to find out what he knows of the situation" thought the Hunter, stepping off from the tree and towards this man.

"Greetings, Stranger." he said, offering a brief smile and a look to the wolfhound by his knee. "Dont let this scene leave an opinion of what Valtons always like, first time we've had any trouble of it's kind that i've seen. Apart from these wolves lately anyway.." he paused briefly, wondering if the news of wolves would but off a new settler. "What brings you and your band of companions to Valton then? I'm sure the Jarl would welcome another citizen if thats your aim." he asked, keeping to his friendly tone. "Providing his not allergic anyway" he thought, a smile flickering across his face.

[Brian LeHury]

Urgoc, Outside Gudslott Keep, Midday.

The orc watching the throw as the dunmer went flying against the keep door, was satisfied in his thirst for rage and vengeance.
"Very well," he said in response to the dark elf's demands. "Skarc, calm down boy. We'll be going to have some rest now."
The giant centipede followed it's master calling and crept along with Khagra, as well as Urgoc, while the guards escorted them to the jail.

It would not be untill the evening, when the jarl finished his duties, to when the orcs were given the inspection from the lord of the hold.

~~~~~~

Jormaw, Outside Hela's Folly, Midday.

The argonian waved a slightly odd 'goodbye' to Roymund as he left, although luckily it seemed the man did not notice this gesture.
Doing so before the saxhleel hanged himself, arms folded, over the inn's front bannister. The locals were studied from such a position.

However after some time, he realised that the marsh-brother, Itan-Ru, was still behind him. Sitting on a bench, waiting for someone.
Jormaw looked to say 'goodbye for now' and so presented him with an armshake traditional to those of the marsh.
While doing so, a dewclaw or his thumb was hatched out to dig an emblem on the other argonian's arm, dipping blood with poison.

He turned around to go down the inn's steps, before turning his head slightly and answering. "The Hist shall call within the night's winds."
The answer was riddled, as most of his comments were outside Hela's Folly that day, but Jormaw knew that the argonian should dream of the hist.
An emblem for the hatchling who has been forgotten. Jormaw hoped the Hist would heed this, to give the brother knowledge where he could not.

Such thoughts of his were now dissolved, for he had come to approach the daedra hunter he left with Gorbad earlier.
"Confusion or success? my dear Tinkerwatch? have you another lead to follow or do you wish to interrogate more locals?"
Jormaw tapped his spear he had been carrying for some time, as he was impatient for an answer to this mysterious quest.

[abi]

Gawain, The Keep, Midday

As the confrontation continued, but started to come to its conclusion, Gawain noticed a man in his peripheral vision, that was leaned against a tree and seemed to be waiting for an audience with the Jarl as well. He did not carry many belongings, however, so Gawain assumed to be a citizen, and that assumption was confirmed when the man approached, and spoke of how things were not always this exciting in the new hold. Gawain was formulating his reply, when he heard the comment about the wolves. "Problems with wolves? Well, it seems I came here just in time! Good ol' Forsta here," At this point, the old wolfhound cocked his head slightly and nudged Gawain's head, recognizing his name, "still has a couple brats in my kennels that will make superb wolfhounds in the near future. That being said, I also have a couple other hounds in the kennels that could track a stag for days if need be. Those would be a nice little sum, but they had pups not too long ago and I can tell there are a couple of winners in that group, which you might be interested in, if I have assumed correctly that you're of the woodsy type..."

As was typical, the Nibenese was already trying to make some more septims, even though he still had plenty that he had recovered from the secret vaults of his former town, and would have even more left over after he purchased his new home and business. Add into his nice sum of septims the worth of his hounds and what their offspring would fetch and Gawain could become a very wealthy man, if he were in a more merchant-friendly city. The startup costs in one of those cities would more than likely put him in the red though, and that was simply not something he could live with. Suddenly remembering that the other man had asked him a question, he jumped back to the conversation.

"Well, troubles at home would be the simplest way of describing it, and after hearing of a new hold being built, I felt the chances of establishing myself as the foremost dog breeder were great, and so I came. If the Jarl is as Nordic as the claims I have heard about him, then he should have no problems. Especially if it means the wolf problem could be dealt with, no?" So as not to insult the man by not laughing at his joke, the tattooed Nibenese grinned and winked in reply. Extending his arm, Gawain introduced himself. "I'm called Gawain, for my name is much too long and complicated for most to remember. What may I call you, friend?"

[X(S.a.R.a.H)X]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Gudslott Hall. Midday.

Roymund accepted the mans handshake, whilst maintaining a firm grip he took the oppertunity for introductions "Roymund Inventius, Local Hunter and woodsman. I guess you have a keen eye for us 'Woodsy' folk, Gawain." He released his grip, offered a brief chuckle to his last words. "As for your hounds, i may well be interested though i fear they'd run me out of a job if their as capable as you claim." He crouched slightly, peering into the wagon beside Gawain. Roymund knew little of hounds like these having only come across them once or twice on farms during his travels, but these looked far more alert. Perhaps if he'd had one accompanying him, he'd not have taken a tumble like his last hunt.

"Cant say i've seen any other breeders round here, nor any other dogs for that matter." he said, his friendly tone had turned more disengaged as he engrossed himself with the animals. One in particular had taken his fancy, it seemed alittle more laidback than the rest though it's eyes were watching him intently. He suddenly realised he had left the Nibenese waiting mid-conversation and straightened up again. "I'm yet to meet that Jarl though from what i've heard he's a Nord of traditions.

The Huntsman cast an eye over his shoulder, the disruption seemed to be calming down. "Peacefull as ever." he grumbled, his mind half distracted by the dogs beside him. "If these dogs are as he claims, i'll catch that giant stag sooner than i expect.." or so he thought.

[Rachel Eloise Getoutofmyface]

Daikanos, The Keep, Midday

The Orcs’s had finally accepted that they were defeated and at long last followed four guards to the dungeons to wait peacefully until the jarl summoned them. Daikanos sigheh and carefully stretched his back. The pain was less, but he knew he wasn’t fully functional for the moment. The ox had an tremendous power and he could tell. If given the choice he’d gladly headbut yesterday’s Orc again than todays one.

When it seemed everything was quite again he left the scene in the hands of four other guards and turned to make his way inside the keep. Just as he opened the doors the old Dunmer came out again, sitting on his trunk while being pulled by the dwemer spider. In Oblivion’s name, how did he get inside?

He ignored it and simply made his way in. Radwulf had wanted to speak to him and Daikanos wanted to get that part out of the way. It would probably involve a lot of bootlicking, praising and apologizing and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it, but he had to try it. If he were to loose this job he’d probably have to leave for a new town or city since he couldn’t afford to buy nor rent a house and the inn was full.

He patiently waited until the jarl was done with his current slimeball.

[Adam Porter]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Late Morning / Midday

Nellis left the farm while Alguidar stood in the same spot, with his stomach furiously demanding a bite at one of those apples. His hand reached for an apple as he contemplated the morning sales with great pride. The increased weight of the coin purse in his belt was a welcomed burden that he happily carried.

Between a few bites, he examined his crops. There was some work that needed to be done but his biggest concern right now was the cattle. He remembered Roymund saying that Jacqueline checked on them already, but he had to see them with his own eyes. If wolves thought they could get to them, they could hound the farm for weeks, just waiting for the right moment... and what better targets are there, but farms?

He started making his way to the barnyard. Most of the animals were outside and they looked fine, probably oblivious to the danger they've been exposed to, during the night. The barn itself didn't show any signs of a wolf attack. Usually, there are scratching marks on the doors and big holes dug around it. Inside, he was startled by a most unusual sight. A stack of hay leaning vertically against a corner of the barn, loosely resembling a man's body. Memories of Roymund asking for hay to practice and him closing himself inside the barn quickly came to mind as he moved towards it, annoyed.

"What in Oblivion...? Shooting arrows near my animals?" Mumbled Alguidar as he put his back against the crude target. He moved his arms backwards, over his head to pick it up by the top rope and leaned forward, letting the weight distribute over his wide body frame. He left the barn and went all the way to an edge of the farm where a stone wall separated it from the wilderness outside.

"Here..." he said as he dropped the stack of hay against the wall. "... is where you practice!"

As he was getting hay off his hands and back, he noticed Jacqueline stretch out and then walking inside the farmhouse. She must have been working all morning, he thought. He walked up to the apple trees once more to get another apple that he put in his pocket, then he began walking towards the farmhouse.

In his way to the farmhouse, something caught his attention. His axe was lying against the wall, all in one piece! He walked up to it, excited, like a little boy starring at a new toy. He picked it up and examined it closely. He immediately recognized the blade. He had it for as long as he remembers, the specific uneven pattern of the worn out blade was unmistakable. The handle felt solid, stronger than ever. With wolves lurking around the farm, this felt like a gift from the gods. His woodcutter's axe was the only thing he could use as a weapon with some degree of success. He felt naked without it around.

Suddenly, a sound caught his attention from the road. It was a man in a horse, carrying a very distinctive bag at his side. A small book and some pieces of parchment protruded out of it. A courier! He thought, dropping the axe and running towards him, as he was passing through the front gate.

"Wait, good sir!" He yelled as he ran towards the courier.

"Whoa!" Yelled the courier, bringing the horse to a full stop by the other side of the farm's fence.

"I need a message delivered to Riften!" Said Alguidar, almost out of breath as he reached for the fence that separated them.

"That's where I'm heading." Replied the courier, taking a small book from his bag that he used to take notes. He opened it on a blank page and prepared the quill above it, waiting for the farmer to state his message.

"I need it delivered to a breeder in Riften. Name's Salkas." Alguidar stopped talking as he engineered the request in his head. He didn't have enough gold for the transaction but he thought he could pay later. Of course, had Salkas known the whole story, he wouldn't take the risk. However, Alguidar didn't have to provide much information, his father made deals consistently with that man for decades. That gave Alguidar some leverage that he intended to put to use.

"Tell him that, the son of Alguiir Winterseed requests an urgent delivery of a sow, along with 10 piglets. The delivery shall not be made to the usual location. It shall be made to the biggest farm outside Valton, instead. Payment shall follow soon afterwards."

Alguidar's speech was paused to allow the courier the time to write the bullet points he needed to convey the message. He wasn't sure this was going to work, but he felt it was worth trying. On the other hand, it was a risk. This meant that he had to raise enough money quickly to pay for them. Hopefully, the income from the pigs themselves could cover their own cost soon enough.

"That is all." Said Alguidar after the courier's quill stopped its motion. The courier extended his hand and Alguidar gave him one Septim. The usual rate for a simple message delivery where the courier was scheduled to go next.

"Alright. The message shall be delivered today, unless I can't reach Salkas. Gee up!" With that, the courier parted as soon as he arrived.

Alguidar was always willing to take a chance. That was one thing that always caused friction with his father, a much more conservative Nord. This contrast became obvious on his last days of life, when that friction reached its climix due to arguments over the potential move to Valton.

His stomach protested once more. One apple was clearly not enough for the Nord farmer to start his day so he walked inside the farmhouse to get something more substantial. Inside, he saw two eggs on the table. He began to wonder why he had no chicken of his own in his farm. They're cheap and low maintenance, you'd think any farm this big would have some and indeed, the farm looked like it did at some point.

Without giving it much more thought, he walked out again and approached Jacqueline.

"Catch!" he said as he threw the apple at her.

"Want me to do something with those eggs?" He asked.

[Shannon Lockwood]

Outside Gorbad's forge, midday
Leandra

Vaermina, Vaermina, Vaermina.

Nightmares, evil omens for fishmongers' wives to gossip about, all that good stuff. Then there's also her lovely trademark skull of evil clones... which is alleged to feed on surrounding peoples' memories. *Huh.*

The urge to curse the Orc for stifling her investigation with his vagueness soared in her chest, smashed promptly down when she realized the dream probably involved something as sensitive to the aged blacksmith as the circumstances of Veronica's locating and the acquiring of her peculiar arm were for the Daedra hunter herself. Still, my personal matters at least don't get in the way of investigations that were just starting to get interesting. I wish someone made a law to fix this.

Leandra was somewhere in the middle of the process of realizing she was just standing around, if not smack dab in the middle of what passed for the town's main street then damn close to it, and get a move on to a location less conspicuous for her purposes - namely eliminating the more far-fetched of the possibilities that the conversation with Gorbad had allowed to crop up and plotting a second offensive to unleash strange and possibly uncomfortable questions upon the unsuspecting people of Valton - before someone else noted her loitering. The someone in question being the already familiar voice of her scaly accomplice of sorts (or meddler, rather).

It took a moment for the mercenary to process his query, buried beneath various bits of trivia related to the Daedric Prince of Nightmares and dubious connections to torture as it was. As usual, steam was beginning to settle in above and about her. "Both with an inclination for the latter, I'm not, going to pester more natives eventually." Each sentence Jormaw had ended with an inquiring note was answered in turn, with no regard to the fact muddling them together like that wasn't the clearest communication ever.

"Speaking of," It suddenly occured to Leandra that he was a local as well. She knew next to nothing about when the Argonian had arrived at Valton or when the mass nightmare night Gorbad noted had occured, but it was worth a stab. "Have you had any unusual nightmares since settling here? Preferably ones that happened in sync with the rest of the town."

[lacy lake]

Gawain, Outside the Keep, Midday

Gawain laughed, as his assumption had turned out correct. "Ah, Roymund, I simply have an observant gaze, and my hounds would do far from run you out of a job, they would put your skills at a higher demand, if you learned to hunt with them efficiently. I actually have several hounds that would do well for you. They are young, yet, but have exceptional noses for game, and their father was a legend, once tracking a bear for three days. His owner was actually forced to buy the entire stock of potions that restore your energy from a travelling merchant they happened to pass." It was an elaborate story, that many would feel was false, but Gawain knew the truth of it, for the man's two brothers had been with him the whole time, and those two brothers had shared several drinks with Gawain in a tavern one night along his journey. Needless to say, the Nibenese went in search of the man the next day and found him. The transaction was simple, one hundred septims just to breed him with a couple of Gawain's females that were in heat. Gawain had also had the fortune for both of the females to give birth to both litters, and several of the pups had been sold before he could get three leagues out of the town.

"I had not expected there to be any around here, seeing as how it's a new hold and there are precious few of us breeders, but the game in the area, along with the wolves, simply make it a perfect location, in my opinion." Around halfway through his reply, Gawain noticed Roymund be taken in with one of the dogs. A knowing grin crossed his countenance, for it was the same expression he imagined he had when he had first met Forsta. At the memory of that time, Gawain reached down and scratched the dog behind his ears. His love for the dog was such that, if Gawain were to fall in love with a woman, but Forsta did not approve, then she would be immediately dropped to the wayside. Luckily, they had not had to break too many hearts on their journey, but the rule would be in effect for as long as the old hound was alive.

Before long, the hunter snapped out of his trance and returned to the conversation. "I see one of them has taken you. That one in particular has shown promise, especially for stag. His pace is perfect and his stamina is amazing. He's the eldest of both litters that the legendary hound I spoke of earlier produced. He has also responded well to commands. After we speak with the Jarl, perhaps you would wish to discuss a price and other things that are necessary for the transaction to take place?"

[Elizabeth Davis]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Gudslott Hall. Midday.

Roymund nodded in agreement "Aye, I'd like that though i fear i wont be able to purchase one for few days. I'm currently living with the local farmer, You likely passed his farmstead on your way into town, and i'm unsure on how he'd feel with a one of these hounds running around with his cattle." The hunter offered a brief laugh, feeling a slight rumble building in his stomach. The short peroid of time spent with his bow had taken more out of him than he had expected, he felt a mixture of disappointment and annoyance at his yet to return abilities.

"I expect the Dunmer will be awhile in there, such a scene outside the keep would have already caught the Jarls attention." he looked across at the Jarls keep. "perhaps you'd care to join me and continue our conversation over a drink down Helas' Folly this afternoon? Their meads not great, but it's cheap enough for a hunters purse and we can discuss details there? Always enjoy a story or two, even if i'm unable to purchase one from you just yet." He let out a sigh, He'd planned to get through his errands simply, but so far he'd only run into problems.

Once the Nibenese had replied to Roymunds request offer of a later meeting, the hunter took a step away from the man and his hounds. "I cannot stand about all day, Too many errands to run. Safe travels." he kept his tone friendly, though his mannerisms had become alittle awkward. Rarely one for long conversation, Roymund headed away from the Breeder and made for the guards barracks. As he past through town, he noted Jormaw talking with his Dwemer-armed companion "An odd couple" he thought to himself.

Upon arrival at the barracks, he was greeted by a familiar looking guard. The same who'd past on the information of the Priests healing talents. "Greetings Guardsman, I wonder if you can offer some advice to an old hunter. Have any of your brothers in arms reported any information on the wolves from last night? I plan on offering my services to your Jarl and any prior knowledge on numbers or sightings would be appreciated." Roymund watched the Nords face, resting his hands on his belt.

[Blessed DIVA]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Midday.

She was caught off guard and the apple hit her arm. She fumbled about until she finally caught the apple without letting it drop to the ground.

"Woah" she laughed. "Yeah, if ya got some leeks or something' ya could maybe make scrambled eggs. How's the business goin'? Guess ya ain't gonna have'ta take yer produce in ta town today."

She brushed her hand against her shirt to get rid of some sawdust before taking the apple and biting off a large chunk.

"So what didya want with the man on the 'orse?"


OOC: I don't really know what to write for Sarynetta at the moment. My time on the pc each day is pretty limited so I didn't want to have her trap characters in a conversation and I don't have the time to write the part where she takes over the inn right now.