[Damian Parsons]

Itan-Ru, Outside Hela's Folly, Morning

Itan-Ru had been resting on the bench for a few minutes now when Roymund spoke to him. He looked up, returning his grin and said, "Hello Roymund! I'm just resting for a bit. I overexerted myself earlier while I was healing this one." He gestured towards the orc still asleep on the bench next to him. "I'm just ensuring that he'll be alright when he wakes up." He briefly glanced at Roymund's injured arm, still wrapped in his bandage. "I'm more concerned about you. How is that arm doing? Feeling better? Any pains, or cramps?" He wanted to ensure that his healing had gone well, and that he had succeeded in curing the man's disease. One could never be too careful where Rockjoint was involved.

[scorpion972]

Erutáron, Inside Gudslott Hall with the Jarl. Erutáron, was about to walk away with his usual defeated slouch and head back out on the road, but wait, what did he say? Erutáron could not believe that this place was looking for a a person to run their stables.

"Hmmm, 1,400 septims? I don't have it, but I can't let this opportunity go by the wayside. Perhaps I should see if he is willing to make a deal?" Erutáron Thought to himself.

With the boldest voice the little Bosmer could muster, he belted out "I regret to inform you that I do not have that kind of coin. I can spare only 500 septim now and perhaps we can come to some arrangement? Perhaps one of my finest steeds I can give to you as payment instead of any septim? They sell for anywhere from 1,000 to 2,000 septim so you would be making out in the deal."

Erutáron stepped back and waited for the response, he hoped he had not blew the only chance of a future he had come across in 3 months.

[Saul C]

Khagra, Valton Town & Outside Valton Keep, Morning.

His name was Khagra. A burly orcish man head to toe enwoven in tattoos of a beastial telling nature. A childhood friend to Urgoc.
The man had bested the wild mountains of the Jeralls, championed the pits, herded the raiding packs and a great keeper of ruffbacks.
However, with the paws of a wolf, a stone and mere wood, he was beaten down. A shame not only to himself, but to his peoples as well.

Awoke he came as the feeling of a magical salve was applied to his wounded form. A lizard-man, horses and some lowlanders greeted him.
But they did not deserve his words, nor did he deserve their words. He simply got up, twisted slightly and walked off to find the carriage leader.
From hostages of the mountains, he knew the northern lowlanders lived in tall houses, the tallest being the Jarl's keep. So he made his way there.

In his sight was the scene of his friend- a leader, an old blight-skin shaman, a young blight-skin, a knife ear, some lowlanders and a door that closed.
He heard the young blight-skin threatened Urgoc to his hearing, saying that he'd throw the 'goblin' in a cage with a group of mere bandits!
The cheek of saying this to the Brother-Father of Whin-Skur! Khagra was infuriated and proceeded to throw the most lethal punch in his direction.

~~~~~~

Urgoc, Outside Valton Keep, Morning.

The young dwarf watched as this young dust-skin spitted insults at him, like he did his own tongue and all the while ignored them.
For what he saw made his eyebrow become raised in a happy surprise- Khagra had recovered. Now heading to come to help the little orc.
To which he did, by throwing one of the nastiest punches this side of High Hrothgar at the dust-skin. Enough to match an ogre's hit impact.

Skarc had skittled his fur upwards after this, the large centipede being tired of all of today's violence and wished to look for an outcome.
So he appeared in front of both orcs, to the guards direction, appearing to snarl at them. He even proceeded to stand at his tallest height.
For if any attempted to react, the creature could easily reach out in a snake's leap, before reaching to their necks and choking them to death.

In retrospect to these actions, Urgoc had bursted into laughter. Loosening his grip against the guard's lower extremeties to an edge.
The man took this chance to abandon his duty and make for the woods. It seemed something about the thought of being castrated left the
human with a wish to make a change elsewhere. The orc wasn't bothered by this action- as he was still chuckling from what looked like a punch.

~~~~~~

Jormaw, Arriving at Valton, Morning.

The argonian ignored this nibenese lass insinuations. To him, she was just a young hatchling yet to crawl out of the leaf-patch.
So he just listened to the words spilled from her mouth and kept on walking. People were ahead of them, going into town from the looks of things.
Time came when they actually reached the town, coming to discover why there might be so many curling towards the village center.

It seemed a pack of horses had drawn some amount of attention. As well as a scene outside the inn looked to be unfolding, maybe.
Leandra spoke to the crowd around the horses, asking about where Gorbad could be found. Quite foolish, Jormaw thought, since she had him.
After all, most argonians had a heightened sensitivity of smell, an orc who worked around the smithy wasn't that difficult to spot at all.

Actually, he found him quite easily. But instead of correcting the woman's naivety, he simply pointed her over to where the orc could be seen.
An introduction he felt was needed, so he voiced one. "Hello Gorbad! hoping you are having a fine day, Land-Strider."
"I'd like to introduce you to this here daedra hunter of the jarl, Miss Leandra Tinkerwatch, Princess of the Nibenese, dwemer scholar."

With that comment, he left them to their own devices. For in his sight was the hunter he offered to heal yesterday and.. yet another argonian!
In a step or three, Jormaw trampled over to the little group. A nod was given to Roymund but he focused his gaze over to his lizard brother.
"Another saxhleel! by Seth, I thought this town was full of soft-skins. Nice to see another Marsh-Friend here. The name's Jormaw."


OOC: A bit rushed. I'll fix it if it conflicts with any other afore post.

[Megan Stabler]

Roymund Inventius, Outside Helas' Folly. Morning

Itan-Ru explain he was merely worn out from his healing skills, "A fine reason" felt the Imperial, and continued to ask abouts Roymunds wound. "It's certainly improved." he replied, flexing his hand slightly by his side "Should be back to normal tomorrow, i hope. Cant go too long without working." He returned his hand to his belt, resting it loosely on the hilt of his knife. "I trust the chapel is coming on well? If you need assistance, i know a good carpenter who'd likely be able to assist you with anything of detail."

Whilst he awaited the priests responce, Jormaw approached the pair. He offered hunter a nod, which Roymund returned, though his attention seemed fixed on the priest. "Your shack wasn't effected by the wolves, I hope?" He asked, now facing the fisherman.

[rae.x]

Itan-Ru, Outside Hela's Folly

As Roymund responded with the good news about his arm, the Orc Itan-Ru had healed simply got up and wordlessly walked away. The Argonian felt a bit disappointed, as he hadn't had many opportunities to speak with orcs and was always curious about other races. This was replaced with genuine enthusiasm as he noticed another Argonian walking towards him, introducing himself. He responded in Jel with a smile, "I am Itan-Ru, and it's good to see that there are other Saxhleel here as well! I was worried I'd seen my last back in Riften!" he could speak his people's language well enough, despite having a bit of an accent according to the dock workers who had taught him.

[Annika Marziniak]

Ulfgar Holdin
Valton

In just a few short minutes, all seemed to get active around Ulfgar and the others. They watched as a guard carried away an unconscious Argonian, not saying a word as they just stood there watching. It seemed something interesting had happened, but none of the sailors knew exactly what. The Argonian looked like a mage of some kind.

“Must have been a fight?” Gert suggested.

Ulfgar and Durn just shrugged, unsure when a new face appeared on the scene, an Orc who seemed dirtier than usual.

"Good morning to you younglings. May I ask what has brought you to Valton?" He asked.

Ulfgar stepped forward, the Orc seemed friendly enough. The other two stood on either side of their Captain, curious.

“We’re traders,” Ulfgar started, rubbing his big thick beard. “We came to Valton to see if there might be any possible work for us? We got by river, rather than land.”

But as Ulfgar was about to say something more, a woman suddenly came upon them, asking for someone by the name of “Gorbad.” Again, Ulfgar was about to say more, but was interrupted by a quick passing Argonian. The lizard seemed a bit odd, he looked to the Orc who’d approached, and spoke to him, calling him “Gorbad.” Ulfgar and the others in his crew were confused, they glanced at each other, not sure what to say. The only one who looked a bit bothered, was Durn, he had a deep resentment for Argonians, his history with them had not been a good one. He had a neckless, several in fact of his own creation, each with a set teeth of an Argonian he had hunted and killed at some point. But he was able to keep his composure somewhat, and look dumb like all the others.

“Umm. . .” Ulfgar said, not sure what to say at this point.

[Chloé]

Amphodil, Inside the gates of Valton, Morning

Amphodil stood slowly looking out at the crowds of people. He patted Wyatt on the head and then grabbed his bindle and began to venture through the streets. He stopped outside the Vacant store and thought, this will be where I set up shop.
Amphodil then walked around until he spotted a guard.

"Guard kind sir, may I have a word with you?"

[Ruben Bernal]

Amphodil, Inside an Inn.

Amphodil looked around, he seemed out of place with all of the Nords in the inn. He sat down at a seat near the window. He missed Morrowind and his hometown of Balmora, but they were gone now and this hold would be his temporary quaint home. He set his bindle on the wood table gently and untied the string. He picked up a Balmoran book on the accounts of the Televanni. He flipped open the book and smelled the old musty parchment before reading.

[Tasha Clifford]

Sarynetta Vycomte, Gudslott Hall --> Streets of Valton, Morning.


After signing the ownership papers and receiving a copy of the deed for the building she conversed with the Jarl's writer for a minute before he had to leave in a hurry. Sarynetta realised there was something going on outside the keep doors. She could hear an assortment of voices having a heated argument through the thick doors. The doors opened and an elven male was pushed inside. She decided it would be best to get away from the situation so that she would not be in the Jarls way.

She gave the Jarl a nod and excused herself. One of the guards hastily opened the door for her and closed it as soon as she stepped outside to make sure no one else got inside. An angry group of men and mer were gathered right outside. She did not know what this was all about but she did not intend to stick around and find out. She hurried down the steps and to the side where Farundal was waiting with the horses.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yes Farundal, but what is happening here?" They quickly mounted their horses and steered them away from the Keep. The horses walked slowly down the main street of Valton, leaving behind the madmen outside Gudslott Hall.

"My Nordic is not good," Farundal began. "But I think they all want to be the first to see the Jarl. Or the guard slept with the Orc's wife."

[Jessica Lloyd]

Nellis Nelsh, Valton Farm, Morning.

The farmer began to tell of how he had supplied the city of Windhelm, and some of it's citizens. Apparently, even Ulfric Stormcloak bought from Alguidar's farm! Nellis was starting to get concerned as Alguidar eyes went wide, seemingly admiring the rebel leader of Skyrim as if the violent man as standing in front of him.

He's speaking a bit too fondly of the Stormcloaks....hopefully he doesn't support them thought Nellis.

Alguidars tale took a turn for the worse, as he told of the blizzards ruining crops, overbearing competition in the form of food from Riften, and both brothers leaving for the war.

?I got a bad feeling they didn't leave to join the Imperial Legion.....the Nord with fish lips thought with worry. The facts seemed to lead up to Alguidar being a Stormcloak supporter. Nellis himself was a Imperial sympathizer, and few Nords respect those who have anything but hate for the Mede dynasty. Could this mild-mannered farmer be the same?

Alguidar seemed to sense the worry in Nellis's mind, and changed his narrative to the positive side of being a owner of the new farm. He made a remark of Nellis, of how not seeing the Nord with the Fur Hat around town. And what a grand hat it is!

Nellis chuckled softly, realizing that a nobleman's fur-trimmed head warmer is uncommon to see on a miner.

"Yeah, the hat is pretty memorable, isn't it? Favorite part of my wardrobe. Has quite a story behind it. I was up in Eastmarch, going towards Kyne's Grove. While on the road, I saw a river, decided to get and myself a little drink from it. That's when I found this old shack by the riverside. Found this beauty of a hat, and decided to keep it. As I walked out, I saw that a Saber Cat was coming! Had to run, and the fur covered beast just bolted after me, nearly getting me a few times! Barely escaped with my life that time! Almost as bad as when those Horkers attacked Dawnstar. Oh, those horrifying beasts.." Nellis said, his voice starting to falter towards the end. He needed no reminder of those beasts....

"Anyways, I spent a few more days in Windhelm. Did little odd jobs, deliveries, helping out the Dunmer with work, sometimes even the Argonians of the docks. Not enough mining for me there though. When I heard about Valton, I decided to leave in order to start a new life!"

[Georgia Fullalove]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, outside his forge and Hela's Folly, morning

His conversation with the three newcomers was a short one indeed. All he learnt from them was that they were traders, something Gorbad would have to remember for future needs. A young woman with a dwemer-metal hand, it seemed, walked up to the group and asked for Gorbad the smith. He raised an eyebrow of curiosity and happy surprise, "A possible customer?" he thought. Then the woman added, "On account of the Jarl." Gorbad could feel the happy smile fading from his face, replaced by a slight worry and more serious interest. Jormaw corrected the woman, pointing out that the Orc she was looking at was indeed Gorbad the smith. The newcomers were confused and were only able to say "Umm...?"

"Yes that's right, I'm Gorbad the blacksmith of Valton." He gave her a serious look again and nodded towards his forge. "Perhaps we should discuss this at my forge?" He said, obviously thinking the Jarl wanted to buy some armor or weapons. But in reality it was just an excuse for them to move to a more private area to have this conversation on. With a shrug of apology, a friendly nod and the words "See you later perhaps?" he took his leave of the three newcomers. He began walking towards his forge, expecting the lass to follow him. When they were out of ear-shot of the newcomers, he turned his full attention to the woman, waiting for her to explain herself.



*** *** ***


A couple of guards of Valton, by the keep, morning.

Things went quickly downhill when the scribe Alfhed arrived. His petty attempt to take control of the situation was ignored by everyone, even the guards themselves. A couple of things happened. An Orc walked up to them, and a white creature they hadn't seen before stood up in its full length and began screaming at them. Right about them, the dwarf Orc made a move towards the lower area of one of the guards as if he was about to stab him. He took a quick, terrified step backwards and ran a few feet away before he drew his bow and turned around, facing the crowd, aiming at the dwarf orc and the snow-white creature. The other guard drew his sword and took a defensive stance with his shield raised. Three guards from the hotsprings saw all this and drew their weapons as well, two of them aiming with bow and arrow at the group, while one of them armed himself with a warhammer. Right then, in the middle of the confusion, the bigger orc threw a punch at the guard captain.....

[Maeva]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

Alguidar stopped what he was doing as he got hooked by the story behind the hat. The story was intriguing but Alguidar doubted its accuracy. Masters of camouflage, Saber Cats were known to live in his old farm's area, yet, they were never seen. Stories of missing cattle and people were often attributed to these experts in ambushes, while stories of survivors of such encounters were usually dismissed as the result of a wild imagination. How could the miner have escaped the beast? An embellished story or unbelievable luck, he couldn't tell. That's when he mentioned Horkers before changing the subject abruptly talking about his life in Windhelm.

When Nellis stopped talking, Alguidar closed the basket and handed it over to the miner. With yesterday's price, it would be 20 Septims, but since he already made a discount to the blacksmith, right in front of him, it would be rude not to extend the same cordiality to Nellis.

"That's 20 Septims, but let's make it 18!" Said the farmer with a smile.

As the basket changed hands and business proceeded in the background of their conversation, Alguidar began thinking about what Nellis had just said.

"Dunmer and Argonians, heh? You must have been desperate!" Said Alguidar jokingly. Another Nord like him would have found that funny, as for Nellis, Alguidar couldn't even consider the possibility of a Nord from Windhelm, not subscribing to the same beliefs as his own. In a way, he was just assuming Nellis to be just like one of his brothers, without ever stopping to question that assumption.

[Isaac Saetern]

Outside Gorbad's forge, morning
Leandra

It was not without some slight satisfaction that the mercenary observed the Jarl's name cut through any of the fluff of making conversation before it could even materialise. A welcome effect (at least as far as she was concerned in her present mood), since it did not take much anolysing her to notice that she prefered to ramble to herself than anyone else, what most considered a sign of her being the proverbial Septim short of a coin stack being silently explained in her own head as the only way to ensure good conversation.

"Ignore Scales, he's a bit mad it seems." The irony being just as lost on her as before. "As well as a lousy judge of character... and a none too experienced kidnapper..." Leandra shook her head, chasing away what wafts of steam still clung to her like a peculiar aureole along with the urge to mumble on indefinitely.

Business, let's not lose sight of business... It was almost visible, the cogs behind her eyes turning as they strained to steer her along a more productive course.

"For all his faults, of course, he does have a somewhat more thorough knowledge of your merry little town." Obligingly, the Dwemer arm gestured loosely in the direction of Helas' Folly and the collection of Nordic huts clustered around it (or rather yanked awkwardly in their general direction); it was to turn out to be a thankless task, as the Nibenese forced it back down into place with her left hand, entirely unfazed by what the Orc might think of her limb going rogue.

"According to him, you have been here for a spot of time and this I hope will make you able to help me with some... stuff." The warm and friendly glint to the blue of her eyes seemed unaffected by her voice trailing off slightly awkwardly at what was hardly the technical term for what she was doing. "See, I've been hired to look for a person by the Jarl, his court-wizard to be more precise... the name eludes me," I wonder if I should feel discouraged by the fact this is the second day of searching for her and I still don't know the name..? "Buuut there aren't that many officially employed wizards around these parts to cause any confusion."

"So I'd be very thankful if you could tell me when and where you last saw this court-mage of the Jarl's. And if there's been any sightings of vampires around these parts within the last month or so."

The fact that she'd never formally introduced herself occured to Leandra briefly, before being swatted away like one of the innumerable flies plaguing the Nibenay. Her full name was rather unwieldy and tended to provoke all the wrong reactions among the commonry of Skyrim.

[Rhi Edwards]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, morning.

He had expected an explanation, followed by an introduction. Instead, the young woman went straight to the point. Instead of having anything with smithing to do, it turned out the woman had been hired by the Jarl to find the mission court-mage. Last time Gorbad had seen her was at her tower, just before he'd cleared out Shimmermist mine with a couple of others, including three guards of which one had been killed, and nellis the miner.

"Fiona Barrow-Heart is the court-mage, yes. Last I saw her she was at her tower, perhaps three or four days ago?" He wasn't entirely sure. The next question provoked a raised eye-brow from the smith. "Vampires?" During his time here, they hadn't met any evidence of vampires around Valton. In his mind he recalled Fiona's and his conversation up at the tower. The connection between the nightmares and reality. The daedric "threat" as Fiona had described it. Perhaps she'd gone somewhere to find out more about it? Where that might be Gorbad had no idea. And how vampires fit all this he had no clue.

He looked around at the forge and took a few steps further away from the main road. They were now behind his house, well out of earshot of others. Fiona had said that he shouldn't share the information he was about to share, because it might cause a big discussion and perhaps even panic. However, this woman wasn't like the others. In addition, Fiona had gone missing so Gorbad figured it was fine to share this.
"This will sound a bit crazy..." He looked at the dwemer arm and figured the woman was probably familiar with the concept of crazy. "..But last time I spoke to Fiona she explained why everyone in Valton had nightmares. Most here have shrugged off the event, saying it doesn't have a reason, but Fiona had a different thought." He himself had also had a different idea of this, because in all 72 years of his life, he hadn't had a single nightmare. That was until all of Valton had one the same night.
"She said that it was most likely one of the daedric princes that caused them. Perhaps she is looking for some more definite answers somewhere?"

He walked back to the forge, waving his hand towards the forest west of Valton as if it was that they had been looking at while they were behind the forge. "That's unfortunately all I know. Be sure to bring her back in one piece, she may be a bit crazy, but she's friendly enough." He said with a small smile. "Oh, but I never caught your name lass?" He made the statement into a question, the smile never leaving his face. Although to anyone else than an orc his smile might look like an aggressive grin. The thought of this made him smile even more.

[CRuzIta LUVz grlz]

Gorbad's forge, morning
Leandra

For the entirety of the time Gorbad was talking, Leandra found herself unable to rid herself of the silly thought that his Orcy smile made it look like he was plotting to eat her. Which was thoroughly silly - she was well aware of the fact the types who prefered to eat their fellow sentient rather than help them tended to view her with distaste, what with all the metal bits. They'd probably stick between the teeth something fierce. Even Orcish tusks.

Trying to stop seriously considering what eating herself might be like became a damn sight easier for the Nibenese as soon as Daedric Princes were mentioned. Professional interest kicked, and it was all she could do to stop herself from performing a joyful pirouette - if she could link up the nightmares mentioned by the blacksmith with the smears of a supernatural nature that she'd found on this Fiona's books, the investigation would take a sharp turn for waters far more familiar. Vampires were never really her thing anyway.

Nightmares... Vaermina's domain, no? But the research in the tower seemed pointed specifically at Molag Bal, save perhaps that whole four corners mess - which Vaermina isn't part of. However... The all too familiar bookshelf was begining to take shape before her eyes, and in all the eagerness to remember the precise role Vaermina played in some legends of a cure for vampirism she almost glossed over the fact Gorbad had inquired about her name.

It seemed 'moth-nibbled commoners', as she referred to them internally when carried away by the enthusiasm that made her as good a Daedra hunter as she was (or if nothing else helped her remember as much as she did), were bent on ruining her fun.

"Oh, my name?" The question made her pause for a moment, as if she'd forgotten it. Steam gently drifted above her, as it always tended to when Leandra stopped. "Leandra will do. For the record I'm for hire and I do more than search and rescue under mystical circumstances, just in case you ever need anything fun done. Very reasonable prices, even." Well, that was something of a lie perhaps, but no one would be able to verify. Not like there's a base price for armed wandering.

If she was sticking around, the thought occured that she might as well do something other than shameless self-promotion before the current of thought swept her away again. "If you don't mind, do you recall what your nightmare was about? If it really was Daedric in origin, odds are it's going to have some pretty blatant meaning." Blatant to someone who knew their Daedric Princes, at least. "They're usually not as subtle as they say they are."

[Joanne]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, morning.

She was a mercenary then, a sell-sword. Investigation missions mustn't be something she did every day. She introduced herself as Leandra. Gorbad would probably have a hard time pronouncing the name out loud, so he didn't repeat it. It would probably sound more like Landra, or if he really tried to give it a twist it'd sound like Lendra. Gorbad found himself very interested in the dwemeric arm, it even seemed to have its own will or at least it had looked like there had bene a power-struggle there earlier.

He was expecting Leandra to be on her way to question others in the town, but instead she wanted to be more specific about the nightmare. The smile faded from his face as he recall the event; The attack on the stronghold where all the fallen soldiers, both orcs and faceless attackers, had turned into blue-eyed zombies. He doubted it had anything to do with all this and neither was he fond of the idea to reveal such a significant part of his life to a stranger.

"I don't remember any specifics, only that the corpses of fallen soldiers arose to murder the living ones." His tone made it clear that he wasn't going to say more about the nightmare. The smile that had vanished quickly found its way back as Gorbad said with a more cheerful and less serious tone, "Well if that was all, I hope you good-luck on your search Leandra. Perhaps we'll come to do business in the future!" He nodded towards his forge and workbench, the grindstone, the smelter but also added a curious look at the dwemer arm. It was metal of master engineering, which involved smithing in the most complex ways possible. Gorbad wasn't very hopeful thought, for it seemed like the young woman wasn't too eager to "share the arm" so to speak, much in the same way Gorbad wasn't too eager to share the events of the stronghold.

[Luna Lovegood]

Amphodil inn, morning
Amphodil sat reading and minding his own business. He looked out of the window to see commotion. He wanted to talk to someone, but instead he chose to stay inside.

[Robert Jr]

Theseus, Outside of Gudslott Hall, Morning

The Redguard didn't even have time to question the ridiculous comment the little orc had ordered him to do before the situation escalated to violence. An orc the size of a mountain had jumped into
the fray and threw a punch at the captain of the guard. The Orsimer's centipede-monster-thing was hissing and it had seemed to grow in size. All the while, the old Dark Elf's crazed laughter added
a sense of anarchy to the scene unfolding before Theseus's eyes.

Theseus was a man of action, and the most appropriate action at the time was to assist the guards in apprehending these criminals. The dwarf of an Orc had turned his back to him so Theseus seized
opportunity to end the conflict with minimal bloodshed. He unsheathed his sword and swung it in a chopping motion towards the Orc's neck. At the last moment, when it seemed the little fellow would be
down a head, he halted his swing mere inches from his throat.

He raised his voice so all could hear, "I suggest you stand down. You wouldn't want me to do something rash, friend."

[BEl J]

Nellis Nelsh, Valton Farm, Morning.

Alguidar got the barrel of Apple's ready, placing the price at around 20 septims. Odd considering that Gorbad got them for only 18 septims. As if sensing his Nellis's concern, the farmer lowered the price to a more agreeable 18 septims.

Nellis gladly handed over the gold, and began to stare at the barrel. The apples inside must be delicious, and will prove to be a good side dish to most meals. However, what Alguidar said next rang in Nellis's ears.

"Dunmer and Argonians, heh? You have been desperate!" the farmer said with a sickening laugh. For any typical Nord, this would have been a rousing joke. But for Nellis? It was an insult. Slowly yet surely, he gained the trust of those Argonians in Windhelm. The same applied to the Dunmer of the Grey-Quarter. Having grown up in post-great war Anvil, the miner had been around the folk of Black Marsh and Morrowind since birth. He had a respect for them because of that childhood. And having this farmer insult both those great people, and Nellis? The thought made him furious.

Nellis slowly turned his gaze to Alguidar with an unblinking stare.

"Desperate? Are you implying that I would have not help an Argonian or Dunmer like I would any Nord? Do you think that I would act as if they were below me?"

[luis dejesus]

Leaving Gorbad's forge, morning
Leandra

The incredibly vague description of Gorbad's nightmare was met with a slow nod, for politeness' sake if nothing else. Of course, the Orc's silence did tell her that whatever details behind the dream that he was concealing were probably of a personal nature; so it hadn't been a single dream shared by everyone (which probably accounted for others dismissing it). Good, The vagueness of the blacksmith's description seemed less obstructive if that were the case. Maybe if I ask around some more, we'll even get some sort of a picture.

Considering this was a prospect rather more uplifting than the mere discovery of some smudges of vampire dust, Leandra's smile took on a rather more cheerful note. "Perhaps we will do business, at that. I was thinking of sticking around Valton for a while if this whole thing goes well, and old just-in-case here," She patted the handle of the dagger sheathed at her hip. "Sometimes needs a spot of maintenance."

With a nod that she figured did a good enough job of indicating both thanks for the information and substituting saying 'goodbye' (which was a word she really disliked for some reason), the Nibenese turned round on her heel and, pulling on the widened sleeve covering the Dwemer augmentations - the Orc's obvious interest in them, almost certainly professional, having roused a spot of paranoia - left him to his forge. Which, incidentally, left her to her thoughts.

So, Stopping a few paces outside Gorbad's forge, the mercenary ran a hand through her hair. We have evidence pointing heavily to vampiric involvement. Which needs to be tied together with what this Fiona seemed to think was Daedric involvement - likely Vaermina, what with dreams and all. Although mustn't leave out the possibility of this being the doing of another Prince who called a favour in with her... which would be unusual to say the least... but then nothing can be definitely dismissed until this whole thing starts to make an inkling of sense.

Daedric Princes, after all, tended not to get involved in something as trivial as the founding of a new town. From Leandra's experience, they tended to be drawn in either by the presence of extraordinarily powerful artifacts, the potential to screw over another Prince's interests, or something that seemed really funny. Most often some combination of the three, with the third factor almost always being most heavily involved.

So far, the Daedra hunter had seen no evidence of anything of the sort. All she could do right now was silently curse the fact she'd only spent a day in Valton (given enough time in one place, Leandra tended to amass quite a bit of knowledge about local matters concerning her profession and any nearby spots that had the potential for trouble) and think of the next step, and the most likely location of the next piece of the puzzle.

[Loane]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

The farmer was taken aback by the miner's reaction to his remark. With a raised eyebrow, he couldn't help but realize the sad irony of this visit. Between all the excitement of finally meeting a Nord from Windhelm, he just had to have a soft spot for dark elves and lizards. Just my luck, he thought. The sudden anger that was revealed in Nellis' voice made Alguidar believe that this was more than a difference of opinions, he probably had close friends of those races.

Everything he thought of saying next would probably be insulting to Nellis, as a truthful answer to his questions would likely start with a yes. He debated with himself whether to press the issue of not. It was obviously a sensitive subject and Alguidar was getting tired of all the arguing with his new neighbors. On the other hand, he did want to understand the miner. He was his kinsman, after all, and a common worker just like himself, even if his priorities were misplaced.

Having decided to continue discussing the issue, the usually blunt Nord made his best effort at a tactful answer to a sensitive topic.

"That was only a joke, Nellis. Didn't meant to offend you or your friends. I'm sure they're good people, but we... Nords, we have to stick together in these dark times!"

[Marlo Stanfield]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Morning.

After Titus got up and left to do his assignment, I thought it would be a good idea to have some breakfest. I enjoyed a delicious with some cold milk. After properly paying for my meal, I began to come up with another idea to gain Imperial support in this town. I might just have to make a speech.

[Jade MacSpade]

Jormaw, Outside Hela's Folly, Morning.

The argonian was surprised to find that the other lizard was a spokesman of Jel, but yet had the naive tone of one who had not his proper naming day.
"Yes! these soft-skins are everywhere in these lands, they breed like jackrabbits!" Jormaw said in Jel, before laughing in a croaking tone.

His voice changed back to nordic basic, for the benefit of the nearby ranger "So I can tell you are not of the Hist's swamp. Born here in Skyrim?"
The saxhleel's tongue was inquisitive, as he had not met many outside argonians before. "Your scales label that you are a foreign.. agaceph?"

Although that study or observation could have been incorrect, for outlander saxhleel he found to be confusing in usual scale definition.
All he knew for sure was that the other argonian would not be an archein. As his scales didn't held the notable broadness of himself or his kin.


~~~~~~

Urgoc, Outside Gudslott Keep, Morning.

The orc found that the burnt-skin child he approached earlier was now wishing to get on the good side of these plainly idiotic, incompetent guardsmen.
He went in fashion to try and chop the orc's head right off, even though he was unarmed, as well as not showing in hostility, as well as inhabiting dwarfism.

The redguard went to edge the sword at his neck, to which made the orc laugh even harder. "Look, boy, I suggest you move the knife away. Now."
Skarc had his attention now on the man who was threatening his friend. "It's unwise to attack the master of an extremely poisonous creature."

"The second you attempt to slice my neck, you'll have nine legs boreing through your eyesockets and going down your ribcage."

[neil slattery]

Itan-Ru, outside Hela's Folly, morning

Itan-Ru nodded as he switched back to the local language and said, "Yes, I was born here." He briefly thought for a moment, "And you may be right, as I recall my brother mentioning that our mother was an agaceph, though apparently our father was not." He was not as knowledgeable of the different Argonian tribes as some, having only seen archeins and agacephs in Riften, and many seemed to be mixes of the two. He recalled something Jormaw had said and continued, "You mentioned Black Marsh... I take it you were born there. So you've seen the Hist trees?" Having been born away from the Marsh, he had always been curious about the sentient trees that had given life to argonians, whose sap he had ingested on his naming day. He couldn't hid the eagerness in his eyes while he awaited what Jormaw said.

[Princess Johnson]

Jormaw, Outside Hela's Folly, Morning.

Jormaw heeded Itan-Ru's answers and new question. 'This one must be a hatchling whom has licked the spirits, yet does not know of his heritage.'
"I've felt it, Hist. The one which you derive as spore trees of the greater kingdom of Argonia. But I'm surprised you look to not know this much."
The thought came to Jormaw's mind then that this Itan-Ru might of exchanged the Hist's embrace for a soft-skin deity's wishes in overall harmony.
"But if you want to learn more, we shall have to speak in private about it. For ears of the unthinking, trance upon hateful scalps here."

His mind moved on to other matters. Now particularly so as to get someone to accompany him on his evening fishing trip, due to the danger involved.
'Hmmm.. my cause for water lurking will be obviously noticeable. Going by the wreckage on that bridge, this wolf pack will be large in both number & territory.'
"Say, Roymund was it? dro khee, hmph, I'll be doing some fishing this evening and would look to hire some protection of the hunting kind."
The saxhleel thought back to yesterday's urgency, noting in his mind especially that the man had just been healed of rockjoint, so couldn't help greatly.

"Now I know your arm is injured and I do not wish to strain that, however, I suspect you have some proficiency with a knife or another arm."
Jormaw reckoned the man for a former huntsman of his large war tribe, so he'd expect the ranger to have some knowledge of close combat expertise.
"If you accompany me and I find the catch I'm looking for, fifty coin for you. If we catch a wolf while we're there, hundred and fifty up front."
The saxhleel did not care for septims as much as others do, as he was mostly self-sufficient and from his last job's payout- quite stocked up already, indeed.