[Danielle Brown]

Garrett, Riften, Temple of Mara

I entered the Temple, though oddly enough it seemed vacant.

I took a bit of a walk around the Temple admiring the warmer atmosphere.

I walked towards and admired the Shrine of Mara.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw and was aproached a priestess, A dark elf with eyes as black as the void.

" Welcome to the Temple of Mara, I'm the priestess here Dinya Balu..." she observed the wounds on my body.

"Oh my, how did you receive these wounds?"
I was wondering whether to make something up and then she spoke first.
"Nevermind it doesn't matter, here sit down "
I sat down and she proceeded to bind my wounds, the pain slowly left and the scabs were overturned by new skin.

I rubbed my arms happy to finally have received proper healing
"Thank you very much priestess, I'll be sure to pray that the Gods grant you good fortune."

I proceeded out of the Temple and took in my surroundings, contemplating my next move.
What in Oblivion do I now?

[T. tacks Rims]

Daikanos, streets of Valton, morning.

The healer immediately turned to him asking question about who was hurt, where it happened, how bad it was and how far it was. Daikanos simply mumbled. “just in front of the inn. Hurry up argonian.” He said with some disdain in his voice. He wasn’t easy getting along with if he didn’t know you but he held a special grudge, even hatred, for argonians. It is their fault his Resdayn lay in ruins. Their kick under the belt when Morrowind stood weak was still fresh in his mind and the less he had to deal with argonians the better his day.

This time he wasn’t lucky though. The priest, who was also a healer, was a bloody argonian who was now following him to the hurt horse. He had also learned better than to turn his back towards one of them. The faster this is over, the faster I’m rid of this swampdweller. Why didn’t this specimen stay in his swamp. Or in the mines, where they belong.

Hela’s folly wasn’t far from the chapel so he got the argonian there quickly. Instead of paying anymore attention to the argonian he turned to the bosmer. “I suppose this is the wolfpack’s doings?”

[REVLUTIN]

Outside the Inn, Valton, morning.

The Dunmer spoke first. “I suppose this is the wolfpack’s doings?” he said.

"Yes, I can still sense them lurking not far away." replied Erutáron. "The wound is far too great for my help. Do you think this Lizard can help?"

By now the horse lay still almost lifeless. She had losty a lot of blood already. Erutáron would have to trust the Lizard for now.

He turned to the Argonian and asked."Can you help her?"

Erutáron stood up and backed away as to conced to the Argonian.

[Dragonz Dancer]

Daikanos, outside the inn, morning.

The Bosmer confirmed his suspisions. “Lets hope the swampdweller knows what he’s doing.” It’s best if I can find a bunch of hunters willing to take these wolves down. No need to send out the guards. He took a few steps back to give the argonian some space as he thought about what actions he had to take.

“I need to find some willing hunters. The wolves must be killed.” He said to himself. “and I must order the guards to keep their eyes open for these wolves. Next time a guard lets them in town he loses a hand.” The last thing he muse donly for himself and was said quite enough not to be heard by the bystanders.

He turned on his feet and made his way back to the keep cursing his morning run was already over.

[dean Cutler]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Morning.

If things would continue like this there would be no need to travel in to town to sell their products. The people of Valton seemed so eager to get fresh produce that they would walk all the way out to the farm in the morning hours. Maybe they should just build a little stall right by the gate. She giggled at the thought of it.

She returned to her work behind the farmhouse, once again getting lost in the rythm of sawing, marking and carving.

[Sophie Miller]

Varyn - Hela's Folly, Valton, Morning.


The old Dunmer, almost toppling off his trunk, woke with a start as the loud thundering of hooves races past the inn. A sizable pool of drool soaked the table where he had laid his head the night before. The mer rubbed his eyes lazily, while he cursed in Dunmeri about never getting a good nights sleep. When his old eyes finally focused on the room he found it filled with the stereotypical patrons one would expect. He surveyed the large mass of leather, wood, and bronze that was his luggage to make sure everything was still there - not like it mattered though, he wouldn't have noticed if something was missing; he can barely remember his mother's name on good days. Varyn then stood, on top of his trunk that is, and stretched while he yawned, his vertebrae cracking like Sentillian firecrackers. Once he felt that he was adequately limbered up he stepped down off of the odd black trunk and grabbed hold of its adamantium handle. He turned to walk towards the door to the inn. He took a step, and, as he went to take another, noticed that his arm was outstretched behind him; the chest hadn't even budged. Perplexed, and determined, the old mer turned and placed both hands on the handles. He then pulled backwards with as much force as his old legs could muster, and seconds later found himself sitting on the floor, legs outstretched, and panting. He jumped back up, his face twisted in agitation, and moved behind the large black chest. He braced his feet against the wall and his back against the trunk. With one final effort he pushed against the wall, his teeth clenched down over his bottom lip as he strained. Once again he found himself sprawled across the floor of the inn.

Varyn mumbled a long string of curses in Dunmeri as he stood up and dusted himself off, all the while never taking his eyes off the trunk. Then a large smile streaked across his wrinkled face. He turned and once again sat down on the trunk. He scanned his mass of belongings for a moment before he spied the golden-bronze sphere, about the size of a large melon, nestled away near a large rolled rug. He pointed one long bony finger at it, and, with a small flick, it pulled itself loose and floated towards him. Varyn grabbed hold of it as it neared and inspected it for damage. Etched into the bronze like metal was the word "Frederick".

With the unusually large smile still stretched across his face Varyn reached into one of the pockets of his robe and pulled out a small gem - his pockets are rather deep, and house a large, very odd, assortment of random items. The aged wizard then pushed the word "Frederick" with his finger. The metal scraqed against itself for a second and then fell backwards and slid to the side revealing a small aperture. Varyn jammed the gem into the small hole, and with a loud bang the ball jumped out of his hands and onto the floor as myriad of blue Daedric runes came to life across its smooth metallic surface. It writhed and twisted across the ground for a moment, filling the air with a loud metallic ruckus. Then, one by one, little metal legs unfolded from the sphere, and finally the dome atop them split apart, revealing a small fibrous bag. With a poof the bag filled with air and the Dwemer contraption fell into a smooth rhythm, the bag inflating and deflating as the little legs clinked about.

"Frederick! Oh how long it's been!" Varyn clapped his hands excitedly, "I'm terribly sorry for stuffing you in that damned wagon with all the rest of my junk. If those stupid oafs would have found you I don't know what I would have done." The centurion spider clicked happily as it scurried up to the old Wizard. "Now listen, I need some help moving this trunk here. I can't just leave it in here with the rest of my things were those pale-skins, or worse one of those muck eating marsh lizards, can get their filthy hands on it," a look of disgust crossed Varyn's face at the mention of Argonians, "There should be a rope over there somewhere. Go and fetch it for me Frederick."

With a quick metallic click the spider hurried off towards the large pile of luggage and began to root around for a rope. It was not long before he returned. Varyn quickly fastened it around Frederick's body and then to the handle of the trunk, staying seated upon its dark wooden surface the entire time.

"Alright, lets go Frederick; there's people to see and empires to build!"

With a series of merry clicks the spider took off towards the door, it's metal legs pulled the trunk, and Varyn on top of it, with ease. Varyn had enchanted the Dwemer relic near the beginning of the 3rd era. It could now pull as much weight as a team of guar and move as quick as a Khajiit on a skooma high. The only draw back was the enchantments required Varyn to replace Frederick's auxiliary power source every now and then.

With a crash the door to Hela's folly flew open. Frederick, with Varyn and his truck in tow, came sliding down the steps and onto the road. A small trail of dust kicked up behind the duo as they moved across the road. The old Dunmer was laughing hysterically as they came to a stop near the wounded horse. A Bosmer and Argonian stood over it, inspecting its wound.

"Hey you" Varyn shouted at the Argonian, "Yeah you, swamp brains, where can I find someone to...," he paused for a moment as he thought, "ehh you're probably too stupid to tell me. I could barely get your kind to hoe a field or dig a tunnel, much less carry on a conversation. Away Frederick! To the big, tall, stony wooden thing over there!" The old mer's voice crackled lightly as pointed towards Gudslott Hall.

The sound of wood on gravel filled the air as the the centurion spider set off again. The Wizard and his metal friend passed an armed mer as they raced towards Valton's keep. Varyn was surprised to see that it was a Dunmer, but the duo kept on as they neared the largest building in the small town. Frederick came to a stop near the large wooden doors; two guards were posted on each side. This has to be the place. Not even a tenth the size of my old tower, but the most powerful always take the biggest place for themselves. Varyn addressed one of the guardsmen, his accented voice assuming its usual condescending tone,

"How do I get to talk to your khan person? Isn't that what they call it here? Maybe that's those Ashlanders...or were they called barbers? No that's barons. Anyways I need to talk to your boss-man."

Varyn's face was a mixture of expressions. He still was elated about having Frederick back, yet he was once again slumping into his usual prissy, "I'll smite all of you when I come to power" mood. The old mer made for quite a sight straddling a dark wooden chest with a Dwemeri contraption pulling him along. However, he didn't care how he looked. He only cared that he got from point A to point B without walking and had fun while doing it - Varyn is of an age where you just don't give a crap about what people thing of you anymore.

[Yung Prince]

Itan-Ru, Outside Hela's Folly, morning

Itan-Ru stepped forward to observe the Horse's wound. Shredded tissue, exposed bone... most likely an attack from those wolves. It's lost an awful lot of blood... He kneeled in front of the animal, placing his hands on it's side, gently so as to not frighten it further. He closed his eyes and focused, trying to sense any injuries that were not otherwise apparent. Detecting none, he began breathing deeply, shutting out the world as he sent magical energy into the animal, directing the flow towards it's wounded leg. And while healing animals typically caused them to panic, the horse was so weakened from it's struggles that it simply tried to move it's front legs in a pitiful imitation of a kick.

Itan-Ru focused on the bones first, sealing some minor fractures that were most likely the result of the wolf's fangs or the run into town afterwards. They were not truly broken, so the fix cost him very little effort. The difficult part would be the actual wound. He set to work on repairing it, stitching the muscles and nerves back together as he had done countless times before. He had healed horses before (as opposed to the raven in Gudslott Hall, which he had to learn as he went, which cost a good deal more energy than it would have otherwise), so he knew what he was doing. While he was healing the leg, he spent more of his energy attempting to replace some of the animal's lost blood. He would have tried to restore all of it, but very few healers could have done that. A portion would be enough to keep the horse alive until it could replace the blood naturally.

At last, after several minutes, the light spilling from the wound on the horse's leg died down, the wound sealing and leaving only a scar on a patch of furless skin, which would regain it's fur after a few weeks. Itan-Ru dropped his hands, feeling rather drained for the second time in as many days. His energy would return soon enough, as it always did, but it was a good feeling, knowing he'd helped. He looked back up at the Bosmer who owned the horse and said, "She should be fine. She'll need some rest, but in a few days, she'll be ready to run again." he looked and felt tired, but pleased. "Is there anything else you need?"

As he said this, an incredibly old Dunmer passed by, shouting insults at Itan-Ru for what appeared to be no reason. No matter, let him think what he thinks, the argonian thought to himself with a smile, clearly not caring about an old dunmer's grudges. He knew that many Dunmer did not think highly of Argonians, and was not unduly bothered by it.

[John Moore]

Thesues, Chapel of Mara, Morning

Theseus was awakened from his slumber by the crash of a slamming door. Normally he might have jerked out of bed, sword drawn, but today he was too sore to effectively move his arms. The rest had done the
Redguard good. The pounding sensation in his head had subsided and the fire lit on his back had been extinguished.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed with a grunt of pain. He knew the best way to deal with soreness was to stretch thoroughly and then walk it off. The Redguard bent over and touched his toes. He then
pulled his arm behind his head and let out a sigh of discomfort.

Theseus caught a wiff of his leather armor and his face contorted into a mask of disgust.

When was the last time I washed? By Mara, I smell like a skeever.

Theseus changed out of his armor and switched to his clothing. He picked up his weapons and paused. After deciding that he probably wouldn't need to be too heavily armed, he gently leaned his javelins against
the bed and then buckled on his sword belt.

He had seen some springs behind the Chapel that would serve well in cleaning himself and after another set of stretches, walked down the stairs of the small Chapel. Ru was nowhere to be seen, which didn't surprise
Theseus. People were always in need of healing. And as far as he knew, the Argonian was the only qualified healer in town.

He made his way outside. It was a beautiful morning that wasn't too cold (at least for Skyrim). There was various citizens and guards strolling around the young hold. And what looked to be a wreckage of a caravan up on
the northern bridge.

I can investigate that later. First things first.

Theseus stripped down and began to bathe in the cool stream behind the Chapel. He was proud of his muscular body, and didn't mind if any one noticed the nvde Redguard in the river.

I hope Jacqueline isn't around

[Gwen]

Nellis Nelsh, Valton Farm, Morning.

The fish lipped Nord was wrong about Jacqueline. Lass must have just been a friend to the farmer. Nellis was thinking from a limited point of view. The folk of Skyrim tend to join together under Mara's blessing at a young age. Life is rough, and few pleasures are to be found. Love in the north is as gruff as the people. Best to get the heart of the one you love before winding up as a bear's lunch.

Curious accent.....perhaps from High Rock? thought Nellis.

The girl went up to the farm, getting the owner. Nellis stood at attention, ready to meet the man.

A Nord walked out, and grinned a great smile when he saw Nellis. Looked like he had not seen a Nord in years!


"Hey! I'm Alguidar. Welcome to my farm!" said the farmer. He extended his hand, waiting for Nellis to shake.

The Nord with sideburns shoke Alguidar's hand firmly, smiling.

"Greetings Kinsman! Name's Nellis. Nellis Nelsh. I work at Shimmermist mine for Gorbad, the blacksmith. The Inn didn't have any food, so I decided, 'Why not buy some apples from that farmer I heard about? He and his wife must have some good food!' but....."

Nellis put one hand behind his head, scratching it, showing a bit of embarrassment. His fine fur hat got in the way.

"I was bit mistaken. Thought you and that worker with the High Rock accent were married! Either way, it's good to see another Nord in town. Got a bit tired of seeing them everywhere in the Windhelm, but I could use a break from naked Khajit's, Thalmor loving High Elves, slightly-alluring disturbing Reachwomen, and overly argogant Dark Elves."

Shaking his head to re-focus himself, Nellis spoke.

"Ah, but I'm rambling now! Have a a bit of a tendency to that. So, how about those apples?"

[Dawn Farrell]

Valton Streets, outside the Inn. Morning.

Erutáron stood in utter amazement as the Argonian healed his horse.

"Thank you so much, I don't know how to repay your kindness? I don't have much to offer but please let me pay you in some way. These horses are all I hae left of my family. Oh, um, nevermind, I don't need to bore you with my life story. How can I repay you? I insist."

Erutáron surveyed the street. He needed to get the horse somewhere she could lay down and rest.

"If I may ask, is there a stable in this hold? This horse needs to lie down. If you tell me where, I could talk to the stable master and maybe he could assist me in transporting the horse to the stable. Also, I a sorry for the Lizard comment earlier. It's just I haven't seen too many Argonians in Valdenwood."

[Auguste Bartholdi]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, Valton farm, morning.

Jack entered the building and politely greeted the old smith, who returned the greeting with a smile and a nod of his head. Alguidar went outside, eager to deal with a new potential customer. Gorbad turned his attention back to Roymund and listened as the hunter pointed out he didn't have any soul-trap experience; or gear. Gorbad couldn't help but feel a bit sad about this, perhaps he'd have to ask someone else about filling soul-gems.

"Well that's a pity. If you do acquire the means to trap souls, be sure to come by me and I'll give you some empty gems to fill."
"But I'll have to buy the gems first from the shop-keeper..." He thought to himself.

"I'm sure the arrows will do just fine if you hunt wolves. Don't want the beast to survive the shot now, mmh?"
He couldn't help but overhear the conversation outside. Who else was the new customer, than Nellis the miner? Gorbad hoped the nord realized he needed more ore, but doubted that he knew that Gorbad wanted the better ore from deeper in the mine. Before Gorbad had even thought about asking how the progress with the mannequin was going, Jack disappeared somewhere. Probably to work on the mannequin or at least Gorbad hoped so. He still had no idea what an added surprise to a mannequin could be.




*** *** ***

Jarl Radwulf Spurvhauke, Gudslott Hall, Morning

Sarya accepted the offer, saying:
_________________
"One thousand gold it is. I will bring you the agreed sum of gold once my caravan arrives. Do you want me to sign the ownership papers now or do we wait?"
_________________
It was impossible for her to not pay the Jarl the agreed amount of gold, since they were talking about purchasing a house. So the Jarl nodded and answered,
"Just put your name on this paper..." He handed a fresh copy of the ownership contract written by the writer as they'd spoken, "And bring my writer the agreed amount of septims." He wanted to make sure to have at least some breathing space during the hours to come, for it seemed a new visitor was waiting at the door; a large khajiit at that. Radwulf had read about the different sub-khajiits and guessed the newcomer was a Cathay-Raht. They were a pretty rare sight outside Elsweyr.

The Jarl nodded to one of the guards to let the khajiit in, but wanted him to stand ready to charge in if necessary.



*** *** ***

Two guards of Valton, outside the keep, morning.

From their high-ground position outside the keep, the two of them could see the entire horse-scenario unfold. One of them couldn't help but chuckle ever so slightly, but the thought of helping out never crossed either of their minds. But they also had to make sure this bosmer fella and the khajiit fella wouldn't go inside the keep before that imperial woman was ready. Just then, the khajiit was summoned inside.

It didn't take long before a ridiculously small orc walked up to them. They thought the orc would stop as the others, but instead they had to stop him as he was about to enter the keep.
"Whooah there, shorty! I'm afraid we don't let children enter the keep. Why don't you run back to your mother?"
One of the guards said. He laughed at his little joke, but the other gave him a cold look. He stopped smiling and laughing in the middle of a loud "Ha", resulting in a ridiculously sounding, high-pitched "A".

"Never mind him; he's still drinking from his mother's briast before he can sleep..." The guard who'd laughed gave him a venomous look and muttered something. "...But the jarl is currently busy. You can wait here or return later, whichever suits you." Neither of the guards had noticed the fluffy insect that was moving about, safely hidden from their sight by the large stone stairs.

As they stood there, waiting for the orc to reply or go into a berserk, they could see the captain of the guard walking towards them. They panicked for a split-second, hoping he wouldn't point out that they'd been standing there instead of helping with the horse-situation... But he seemed to be sunk deep in thought. Just when the two of them thought that nothing more bizarre could happen, a dunmer who looked like he was both during the 1st Era came riding a luggage-trunk, pulled by a golden-bronze spider with a large gem on top. He rode right by the captain and stopped at the keep. Apparently the old wrinkly-faced dunmer had a bad eye-sight, because he didn't seem to take notice of the orc nor bosmer standing outside the keep.
He mumbled something about visiting the khan, baron and boss; another visitor to the Jarl. The more serious guard was expecting the guard who'd laughed to say something witty, but he remained silent and instead gave the dunmer a cold and unfriendly look.

"Our boss is walking right behind you, but his boss on the other hand is the Jarl and he's currently busy. Return later or wait for your turn, your choice." The more serious guard said with a slightly raised voice. For all he knew, this dunmer was both blind and deaf.



*** *** ***

A guard of Valton, outside hela's folly, morning.

Titus walked up to him. To the guard, he looked like a regular mercenary. But he actually asked if he could join the guards. Luckily, the guard had his helmet on, because otherwise Titus would've seen a wide, mocking smile on the guards face. He did, however, not voice that emotion, but instead he said,

"So you want to join the guards, eh? Think you've got what it takes? Very well, you'll need to talk to the captain fot he guards about joining. I'm sure he'll put your skills to a test before giving hiring you." The guard pointed the the dunmer captain who was half-way to the keep by now. "There he walks. Good luck." In truth, the guard hoped the captain would be piss mad at something trivial and scream in Titus face. The thought made the guard smile.



*** *** ***

A guard of valton, the northern bridge, morning.

"What's taking so bloody long...?" The guard though as he kept his bow at a ready. He didn't see any wolves, but that didn't mean they wouldn't try a second ambush on the carriage. The dwarf orc ran away muttering curses and almost got overrun by a pack of horses. That was it, the guard wouldn't stand here on the bridge anymore. He was just about to walk back to the barracks when he remembered the wounded orc, Khagra. He was unconscious. "Might as well help him to that priest... But where on nirn did Druljoff go?" Druljoff was the guard who'd originally ran to find the healer, but it'd been long since then. He shrugged and began dragging the big orc towards the town center. Only a couple of slow minutes later, he arrived at the horse-scene where the priest was healing a horse.

"Excuse me, I think you've got something a bit more serious to look at over here." The guard said. He'd never liked horses. They stank and would kick you in the head and private area whenever they could. He spit on the ground and seated the unconscious Khagra on the steps to Hela's Folly.

[T. tacks Rims]

Valton, Annika, Valton General Store
Annika sat up in bed, seeing the light streaming through her window hitting her face. She stood and began to get ready for the day: Brushing her hair, washing her face, getting dressed, braiding her hair, and brushing her teeth. She ran down the steps and into the main store building. She opened all the windows, unlocked the door and brushed the dust off the counter. She sighed as she grabbed an apple from the back and took a bite. She walked back to the front of the store with the apple and waited behind the counter.
(OOC: Sorry my posts have been so short. :/)

[Dalia]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Morning.

Roymund nodded to the Orc "I'll be sure to let you know if i'm able to do so." He stepped back, took up his Bow and half a dozen arrows. "If you dont mind" Roymund hinted at the door "I'm heading to the barn, and i'm unsure if Alguidar would like me leaving the door open while we've so many people walking round the farm." He offered a polite smile, stepping out the door himself. He saw Alguidar only a few feet away, he could see the house so would know what was happening should someone head inside. Roymund remembered the Nordic miner from Gorbads forge, "Guess he's a local" he thought. He wouldnt see Jack, though she was likely busying herself with a chore or two.

Roymund passed through the farms grounds and into the barn, feeling alittle uneasy about so many strangers being around while he practised his archery, he closed the barn doors. Offering a friendly nod Alguidar ways as to avoid looking suspicious. On one side of him stood the a handfull of animals, pvssyring away amongst themselves they paid little attention to Roymunds presence. He seemed to have a way with animals, while they were never particulary friendly towards him they rarely showed any untoward signs of fear or aggresion. He glared up at the pile of hay in the corner, various length cuttings of rope hung alongside it.

Propping up his bow and arrows by the animal pen, he got to work on making his target from the materials. With a grunt, he pulled down one of the blocks of hay and stacked it length-ways against the far corner of the barn. Next, he grabbed a handfull of the rope offcuts, threading them through the block of hay in a sewing motion he made out several circle-ish shapes from largest to smallest. This took him several minutes, but once completed he was quite satisfied. It was alittle rough, but was quiet clearly a target with three sections. "Not bad" he mumbled, retrieving his bow and arrows from the doorway.

[Inol Wakhid]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

Alguidar's new guest shook his hand firmly as he introduced himself as Nellis, the miner. A long rambling followed before he finally got to the point and asked for Alguidar's apples. Little shards of information from his introduction lingered in his head. A wife? Shimmermist Mine? Windhelm? He knew his priorities though, so he quickly put the deal in motion.

"Ah, good choice! Follow me!" Said the farmer as he started walking to the edge of the farm, where the trees were.

Roymund crossed paths with them and closed himself in the barn. A curious sight that Alguidar would normally investigate but the thought left his attention span as quickly as it entered. He was busy with a most welcome guest, after all. On their way to the trees, a smile fought its way into Alguidar's face as he addressed the miner's introduction.

"You must be talking about Jacqueline!" He said as he looked back at Nellis, half puzzled, half amused by the thought. "No. No. No. We're not married."

The thought never even crossed his mind, he was always too focused on his work to relate at that level.

He had a picture in his mind. One where he's an old established farmer in this hold. The picture was very clear. He's standing in front of the farmhouse, his arm around his wife and many kids around them. He was certain he would marry one day but he felt he never had the time to think about it.

Looking back in his life, it seemed this was closely related with his farms' successes. He especially remembered Helga, the daughter of a struggling merchant in Windhelm that he made sure to visit every time he went to sell his products. When he was with her, the whole world vanished, nothing ever mattered other than the day he traveled back to town. As the farm gradually decayed though, so did his ability to forget about it. He was proud to have farmed a land that most would call lifeless but that was an occupation where worries about survival took center stage most of the time. Maybe this venture in the south would free his mind to Mara's teachings before the land would claim his corpse.

"What a hard-working lass, that one. Good with wood, stone and the animals. What a catch! Ha! Ha!" Said Alguidar, unable to hide how happy he was for the extra helping hands that just fell in his farm out of nowhere. His mood changed slightly as the subject changed.

"You know, I'm from Windhelm too. I miss it. You see, my father's farm... it died. I had to leave." Said Alguidar as he stopped in front of the trees, reminding him what they were doing there. He picked one apple from the tree and gave it to Nellis.

"Anyway, here they are! Our famous apples! Take one for free!"

He then he picked a basket from the floor and started dropping a few apples in it.

[Mimi BC]

Gorbad Yak-Boagdbu, Valton farm, morning.

The hunter promised to look into the matter, which meant Gorbad would have to pay the store a visit and see if they had any soul-gems. As Roymund made his way out of the farm and locked himself into the barn, Gorbad took a quick look at the content of the crate Alguidar had been filling earlier. "Lettuce?" He thought with disgust and took it out of the crate, placing it back from where Alguidar had taken it. Now the content was more appealing. He grabbed the crate containing firewood, milk, carrots, apples and tomatoes and walked out of the door in time to catch a look of Nellis, the miner. He and Alguidar were at the big apple tree, chatting. Gorbad figured that Nellis was the customer Jack had talked about, and decided to walk up to the two of them.

"Morning Nellis!" He said out loud as he approached the two of them. "Say Alguidar, could you fill this crate with some more apples and tell me just how much I owe you, mm?" There was plenty of empty space in the crate, after the removal of the horrible lettuce, something that the farmer would surely instantly see and note when he calculated the prize. Gorbad figured that the total prize of two tomatoes, half a tin of milk, enough firewood for two evenings, a bag of carrots and a dozen apples would be around fifty or eighty septims, depending on how much the farmer wanted to make profit.

[Unstoppable Judge]

Jormaw, Outside Jormaw's Shack, Morning.

Jormaw sniggered at this young nibenese princess acting like she knew the mercenary's life. At best to him, she was just an adventuring scholar.
"Luck or charity, my dear nirnroot, is your own kingdom's gift of Sai. The wolf whom bears no witness and asks for nothing in return."
The old story of King Edward was read to him by a kindly old redguard priest, living in a chapel of Ebonarm. So as he would learn of this Sai easily.

"Reliance is good. That is how your Kynareth or my Hist wishes for. However, that does not mean Seth or nature will ignore you."
His mystic talk was ignoring the fact that Leandra had already gone onto the other subject, about Crampswitch or something of a similar sort.
"Independance from the ripped heart will give you strength where there is none, but it will not make you allies in the long run."

The lizard's mind wondered back to the comment she had spoken about where to find the apples. 'No, no, can't let the gruffy farmer know.'
"Ahem, the apples? oh there's an apple tree over by the rapids I fish at. But if you're looking for supplies, I brought you three more."
He handed the apples over to the woman, being careful not to allow Crampswitch to touch the sweet things, wouldn't want more spoiled food now.

"If your eyes are speaking as I am thinking, then you will want a direction to start this investigation of this Porphyric Hemophilia."
The argonian's fingers switched onto his chin as he pondered local rumours from his memory of tavern talk. 'The burning.. nightmares.. wolves.'
"Don't go south, you'll only find native hillmen who'll burn you at the stake for being on their land. Nearly catched me with an axe."

"You'd want to go into town and look for the old blacksmith, Gorbad the Orc. Nice fellow, been around these parts for ages."
"If he can't help you, visit the priest of my own kin at the chapel or if not him, ask the innkeeper." The argonian said as he continued,
"Here's a piece of fancy cloth, probably the old dunmer's who was arguing in the inn yesterday. He looks quite wise in mythic lore."

He handed over the cloth to her and gave a knowing, conniving nod to note that this could be used as an excuse to talk with the old graying wizard.

~~~~~~

Urgoc, Outside the Keep, Morning.

"Oh you wish didn't say that boy." Said the orc as drawed his marking knife to be pointed up the guard's lower, precious extremities of the sort.
"It's funny how people always forget about this point. Such an ugly part of a man's body that can give life to many or to none at all."
He digged the knife further to make his threat known to the man. As one slight slip and the man would become a castrated eunuch, never to give life.
"Now you be a good little lowlander and get your friend here to say to your chieftan that he has now cleared his diary of all dates."

The orc looked over to the old dunmer beside him, "Ought! wise shaman, refused entry as well? well not anymore. Come with me if you wish."
By now the limping orc had got Skarc to fetch him a long stick to hobble his leg on. To which Urgoc held in his other hand and made him look a lot older.

[xemmybx]

Titus Aetius, Outside hela's foly, Morning

Titus nodded and said,"Thank you, I'll go talk to him right now."
Titus ran up to the guard captain and said,"Excuse me. I'm Titus Aetius, I've just arrvied here. I've been looking for work, and as there isn't much for a mercenary like me, I was hoping I could join the guards."
The Captain should've cooled off by now, but Titus got the idea he was sort of the angry officer that would scream at recruits. The sort of man his Father had told him about from his days in the Legion. He felt sad thinking about his father. he hadn't seen him for several years, and they hadn't been on talking terms when they last saw each other. His father had wanted his son to join the legion, but Titus, being one of those young teens who thought that everything was black or white, had refused to do so out of anger at the White-Gold concordant. He and his father had a massive argument over it. Ttius Aetius the Elder had gone on about something to do with the Thalmor and the best chance for Tamriel being the Empire. Titus had been so angry at his Dad for not accepting his choice that he couldn't remember what either of them had said. He turned his attention back to the guard captain, trying not to think about the bad memories.

[Andrea P]

Ra-Tara, Gudslott Hall, Morning

After a nod from the Jarl Ra-Tara was allowed forwards to say his peace. He moved forwards, once again not smiling, with his hand resting on his pouch of coins. "Jarl Radwulf, this one would like to purchase one of your fine houses. This one and his brother are moving from Riften, the Thieves Guild is too powerful there and we have heard that they have no foothold here." Ra-Tara thought it was a good untruth and technically more of an alteration, the Thieves Guild was powerful in Riften and they had no one placed in Valton yet and it was why they were leaving Riften but not for quite the innocent reason he had suggested, they were here to begin the Thieves Guild branch in Valton.

"With your permission Dro-Spurvhauke this one would buy one of these houses and begin work here, this one is strong and his brother is clever we have much to offer." Ra-Tara bowed his head as he waited for the Jarl's response.

[Noraima Vega]

Jarl Radwulf Spurvhauke, Gudslott Hall, Morning
The khajiit introduced himself as Ra-Tara, apaprently escaping the clutches of the thieves guild in Riften. Valton had a perfectly fine house that no-one had bought yet, just a dozen or so feet away from the river. Little did the Jarl know about Ra-Tara's true intentions when he sold the house...

"I welcome you to Valton, Ra-Tara. For a mere thousand septims you'll own a cozy house at the north-east side of Valton, by the river." Radwulf said. He saw Sarya writing her name on the ownership paper and having a casual conversation with the young writer. "Always so polite, that one." He thought as he turned his full attention back to Ra-Tara.

[Sanctum]

Ra-Tara, Gudslott Hall, Morning

"I welcome you to Valton, Ra-Tara. For a mere thousand septims you'll own a cozy house at the north-east side of Valton, by the river." By the river would be perfect we could fish for salmon when we're not working for the Guild. Ra-Tara took the coin-purse off his hip and held it out to the Jarl.

"This one and his brother, J'Shar, worked for a long time to earn this we shall work equally hard here for you." This time Ra-Tara knew he was lying this time, he had no intention of working while he was here.

[Kortniie Dumont]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

Gorbad walked up to Alguidar and Nellis, asking for more apples and the total price figure. Alguidar was starting to consider increasing the price of the apples to maximize his profits. With everyone stocking up on them while they're cheap, they'll vanish in no time.

"Of course, let me get you another crate so you can..." Alguidar's speech halted as his eyes measured the empty space on the crate that Gorbad was carrying. Alguidar was certain he filled it up but now, there was enough room for more apples.

"Ah, not fond of lettuce, heh?" Said Alguidar thinking about a way to sell it. Unfortunately, he couldn't vouch for them as he never tried the ones growing in his farm. Alguidar took much pride in his products which made him a honest salesman. He'd rather not sell something than have his clients think poorly of his products.

"Well, lettuce is not for everyone I suppose!" He said with a smile as he picked up some more apples from the tree. "Let me fill that up then."

After fitting a few more apples in the crate, Alguidar inspected its contents closely, running the numbers in his head. Again, awareness was his priority in these early stages of his farm.

"Tell you what. Since you didn't make me carry all that into town, I'll make you a discount! It'll be 56 Septims in total."

[Sarah Knight]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, Valton farm, morning.

He'd hoped the farmer wouldn't say out loud that about the lettuce.. But he did. Gorbad felt only a bit embarrassed, but shrugged it off. As Alguidar began filling the crate again, Gorbad turned his attention to Nellis.

"How would you feel about digging up some of that orchalium or moonstone deeper in Shimmermist mine?" The question was equally a proposal as well as an actual question. Gorbad wouldn't want to visit that deeper place again, not after what happened to the guard. He'd literally been torn to tiny pieces in a matter of seconds by the chaurus.

It didn't take long before the crate was full again, and the prize would be 56 septims. "Not bad." Gorbad thought. Normally, he might have been able to haggle it down to 45, maybe 40, but because Alguidar already stated it was a discount, it'd simply be rude to negotiate further. Instead, Gorbad counted out 56 septims and gave them to the farmer. It was a fair prize for this amount of food and firewood.

[Joanne Crump]

Outside Jormaw's shack, morning
Leandra

High over her head was where all the shamanistic talk went, Leandra sparing no effort to even attempt to understand it - more so since the only word she registered was 'Kynareth', and the gods she didn't like to bother; having been born into Nibenese nobility, she felt much more comfortable trusting those more intimate matters of asking for guidance or strength to the ancestor moths. Of course, when she stopped to think about it, she remained mindful of the Divines' plan and kindled hope in one corner of her mind that it would turn out to be favourable to her.

Only when Jormaw turned his attention to the matter of apples did she tune him back in, the glazed glint that had wandered back into her eyes wiped away (or slightly dulled, at any rate). The fact he chose to hand her some of his own rather than just point her to where she could pick them for herself was met with a barely elevated eyebrow, but otherwise went unquestioned. What do I care about an apple's point of origin, so long as I actually get to eat them...

Unless they're Kynareth's apples. An old tale slipped uninvited into her head, prompting a curious second glance at the fruits. Ooh, that'd be something.

Brushing aside the thought that the Argonian may've taken the time to steal the apples from the very gardens of the goddess just to damn Leandra's soul to eternal pointless wandering in the infinite waters of Oblivion, she steered her fickle focus back to his words. With some effort, but well-warranted, since, as she registered, information pertaining to her business was being divulged. Since it apparently wasn't from whatever may pass for a market here that Jormaw had gotten his fruits from, she still needed a starting point of some sort.

While the suggestion of chatting up the blacksmith (the point that he'd 'been around these parts for ages' in particular drawing her attention) was filed as worthwhile, the piece of cloth and the allusion to the Dunmer she'd seen in the tavern last evening was met with another raised eyebrow. "What, talk to the Telvanni? I suppose if I needed a side of xenophobic, necromancy-fueled unhelpful borderline insanity to go with my apples."

Let's leave that as a very, very last resort when looking for something useful. All wizards could be crackpots, Leandra knew that better than most, and she also knew that Telvanni tended to put their colleagues to shame in that respect. Pocket the piece of cloth somewhere in her long trenchcoat she may've, but in her mind, she was firmly set on forgetting it there.

"Back to town it is. Have fun with your... fishing, or whatever you do out here, I guess." And, with a slight nod, the mercenary set off back in Valton's direction, her mind mulling over the correct questions that'd need to be asked to acquire the information she desired while her shoulder tube steamed away as steadily as it had at a similar time yesterday when she first set foot in the town.

[Marine Arrègle]

Daikanos, the roads of Valton – keep, morning.

When he took a look at the keep he could see a whole group of people had flocked before the gates. Just when he sunk back in thought he got startled by one of the oddest sights he had ever seen. A very old Dunmer man sitting on a luggage trunk that seemed to be pulled by a centurion spider. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes to make sure that what he was seeing wasn’t a daydream. But before he could verify it he was adressed by a man behind him.

Daikanos turned around and stared straight in the face of a young imperial. ,"Excuse me. I'm Titus Aetius, I've just arrvied here. I've been looking for work, and as there isn't much for a mercenary like me, I was hoping I could join the guards."

“We did loose three guards earlier so there are a few spots open.” He said, thinking aloud. “If you don’t mind following every order I give and can stay neutral to the civil war situation then you’re welcome to come back this afternoon so I can see if you’re not the kind of guy to die during the first battle.”

He simply turned around again, figuring that if the imperial was still interest he’d come back this afternoon. He’d pit him against one of his biggest, fastest Nord. He smiled when he saw the picture of the battle in his head. He continued his way to the keep just in time to hear the dwarf orc say,

"Oh you wish didn't say that boy." Said the orc as drawed his marking knife to be pointed up the guard's lower, precious extremities of the sort.

"It's funny how people always forget about this point. Such an ugly part of a man's body that can give life to many or to none at all.” He digged the knife further to make his threat known to the man. As one slight slip and the man would become a castrated eunuch, never to give life. "Now you be a good little lowlander and get your friend here to say to your chieftan that he has now cleared his diary of all dates.

"The orc looked over to the old dunmer beside him, "Ought! wise shaman, refused entry as well? well not anymore. Come with me if you wish."

He placed his hand on the dwarf Orc’s shoulder. “Just as all the others here, you are going to waite patiently for your turn.” He said with a slight threat. “And if you don’t like that you can take that up with me.”

[hannah sillery]

OOC: Crappy post is crappy. Just trying not to fall behind.

Varyn - Valton, Morning


Varyn chuckled to himself atop his trunk as he watched the tiny Orsimer threaten to castrate one of the guards. I like this little green man; he reminds me of Alfred....I need to get in touch with that bastard. I need a scrib. The old Wizard dazed off once again, his mind flashing back to the day he first tried scrib jelly when he was just a boy - Varyn's memory is a very odd thing; sometimes he can't remember things that just happened and other times he can remember things from when he could barely walk. The Dunmer was snapped back into consciousness as the small Orc addressed him,

"Ought! Wise Shaman, refused entry as well? Well not anymore. Come with me if you wish."

Varyn chuckled once again. He liked how this Orc did business, "I'm not one to follow people, little cursed mer, but I like how you conduct your business," just then another Dunmer appeared, placing a hand on the Orsimer's shoulder.

"Just as all the others here, you are going to wait patiently for your turn, and if you don't like that you can take that up with me."

Varyn turned to face the new arrival, still straddling his dark adamantium braced trunk, and yipped a short laugh once again, "I like your attitude boy, gets things done. You were born in the homeland weren't you? True Dunmer always have a spunk about them. All these ass kissers that were born outlanders are a disgrace to our heritage," the old mer's face grew sour at the thought, "However, I'm not one to wait. That oaf of a Nord should be bowing down to me out here. I shouldn't have to crawl my ass into his hovel and beg him for an audience.Hmph, he should be grateful to get an audience with me," Varyn paused for a moment, crossing his arms across his chest and turning to the two guards at the door as a scowl crossed his face, "Lord Uvirith does not need to wait or seek an audience. Now one of you two can go in there and tell that pale-skin that I demand to speak with him at once. I need a place to stay while my house grows, preferably away from all of the imbeciles that seem to inhabit this damned little town."

He turned back to the Dunmer that had walked up and confronted the Orc, "Don't get me wrong though, boy, I still like you," he smiled widely, wrinkling his already wrinkled face, "And you too little green mer," he patted the Orsimer on the back.