[ANaIs GRelot]

Welcome to 'Valton: The New Hold', RP Thread #6


Previous RP Threads:
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1335789-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread/page__fromsearch__1
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1338764-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-2/
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1356024-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-3/
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1360105-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-4/
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1364736-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-5/

An ambitious project began in the Rift several months ago: a new settlement sprung up alongside a river, between Ivarstead and Riften. Enough land was purchased for the new settlement, Valton, to be recognized as a new, separate hold, and the man who had purchased the land, Radwulf Spurvhauke, was given the title of Jarl. Valton is still growing, with the castle, Gudslott Keep, being erected first, and then several smaller buildings were built around it, though most of them are currently empty. In an attempt to attract as many citizens as possible to the new hold, Jarl Spurvhauke has set an extremely low price on these homes: a mere 1,000 golden septims, and settlers have been coming in from all over in a hope of a better life or a chance at making some coin, and as a new settlement, there is plenty of opportunity to do so.


Current events:
- Daedric princes have their eyes on the town of Valton.
- Julius the mason is building fortifications at the Shimmermist Mine.
- The bandit leader Wolfgar and two other bandits are still waiting for a trial, rotting in the Valton Jail.
- The court-mage Fiona is still missing. Leandra and Jormaw have searched the mage's tower and found vampire dust, as well as a large number of books involving vampirism. Could this be a clue?
- Valton's priest, Itan-Ru has proven to be quite a handy healer, on more than one occation.
- Jacqueline is working on a mannequin for the blacksmith.
- Jormaw is trying to come up with a way to fix the hatred both Alguidar and Jacqueline feel towards him.
- Skarpi, the new innkeeper of Valton has gone missing. Sarya is about to take over the inn.
- The blacksmith, Gorbad, is trying to sell the black chitin-leather armor, letting Jacqualine and Alguidar spread word around Valton of it.
- Roland is in Nuramon's house, but he should in good enough shape to move elsewhere soon.
- Theseus has healed well from his wounds and has a crush on Jacqueline.
- Both Roland and Theseus have Nuramon to thank for saving their lives, with expensive potions...
- The extremely old dunmer, Varyn, lost his temper and almost put one of his workers on fire. He spent the night sitting on his trunk with his head leaned against a table in the inn.
- Danus Maximus continues his attempts to convince Jarl Radwulf to side with the empire, or at least let the empire within Valtons borders.
- Titus works for Danus, since that seems to be the easiest coin to earn around Valton. Together, they found out that Alguidar supports the stormcloaks; But how much is unknown to them.
- Itan-Ru's brother, Sae-Kas, a highly skilled smuggler, is soon to arrive to Valton.
- The thieves guild has finally found courage to send a few men to Valton, the Khajiit brothers Ra-Tara and J'shar.
- A new stable might be opened in Valton soon, if Erutáron, the bosmer, finds his way to Valton.
- Two stormcloak spies, Lokir and Allessandra, have arrived to Valton and set up a jewelry-shop.
- Garrett is currently in the Riften jail, sitting there accused for smuggling skooma.
- Annika the shop-keeper is back in action. Perhaps she will return the carriage-man's horse to its rightful owners in riften? Or will she keep it...?
- An orc who's suffering from dwarfism, Urgoc, has found himself by accident in Valton. A large amount of Wolves ambushed the carts he and his fellow traveler's were using.
- Nellis Nelsh, the miner, might soon make a come-back.
- The Jarl is not pleased with Daikanos actions. A conversation between the two of them is to be expect, with an unknown outcome...
- A sailor and river trader, Ulfgar, is in Riften, soon to arrive to Valton.



Head over to the http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1369549-valton-the-new-hold-ooc-sign-up-thread-xv/ for further information and questions.

[Laura Simmonds]

Jormaw's shack, morning
Leandra

One of the many skills unique to the profession of a homeless, wandering sellsword was the ability of selective hearing while sleeping. As responsive as a rock most of the representatives of that most noble profession might appear when asleep, noises that would've roused lesser mortals - such things as howling winds, storms or enthusiastic drunks downstairs - failing to trouble them; yet it was vital to their survival that the moment there was but a scratch in the near vicinity that could be interpreted as a potential threat, they'd be able to spring from their bed momentarily.

So it was with Leandra, who, by now, belonged completely to that most illustrious family - roaming adventurers, who some looked up to and others described as armed beggars. From conditioning her stomach to less than fine wines and learning to cook for herself, to being able to substitute rocks for a soft bed and figure it wasn't actually so bad, the tricks of her trade were not lost on the Nibenese.

Thus it was that she had calmly slept through the night, entirely untroubled by the howling of wolves or whatever else.

And yet, when the sharp smell of incense found its way to her nose, it wasn't two blinks before silvered steel flashed and the mercenary was sitting bolt upright, dagger in hand and eyes wide. Three things there were that could awaken her as fast as this, and one had just been invoked. And now that it had and she'd been roused from her slumber, it may've been time to figure out where exactly it was that she'd ended up.

Instinctively, her fingers brushed over her neck. Well, no bite marks or funny symbols etched on my skin... That rules out vampire and probably cult as weeell... Leandra's thoughts trailed off as her eyes stopped at the clannfear skull on the wall. Let's actually keep that second one as a 'maybe'.

Waaait, clannfear skull? An eyebrow was raised, her eyes darting from the skull to the various other items in the room - lingering for a moment at the slowly burning fire that seemed to be the source of the smell that was responsible for her sudden awakening. Yes, skull, also slaughterfish, trophies? Yes likely, implies pride in profession, or hobby, implies proud person... Basic room, not very Nordic, within walking distance of Valton - teleportation unlikely - familiar skull, conclusion simple -

The Nibenese frowned slightly, sheathing her dagger slowly and slipping off the bed. Jormaw. Why the ancestor moths am I in his shack, or whatever this is..?

Wait a second, I hope we didn't-

Her eyes slipped in horror towards the bed as she winced at the thought. No no no. Argonian reproduction is somewhere out there, and besides, it would've taken more than wine for something this horrifying to happen. *Much* more.

With her worst fears allayed, Leandra lingered for a moment as she slung her crossbow over her back, taking in her surroundings with a bit more curiosity this time. Seeing as her surprise host wasn't around, however, the mercenary decided that the best course of action was her initial instinct - as so often happened, 'getting the hell out' seemed the solution for the situation. So, after checking one last time if she hadn't left anything behind, she did just that, pushing open the doors and slipping outside.

[Louise]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Morning

Roymund ignored the Orcs first requests, knowing those were Alguidars business, but was content to discuss the wolves. "We had them sounding off up here last night, sounds more than your average pack." he grumbled
"If it wasn't for this arm, i'd me out there already" he rubbed a hand against his jaw, he hadn't shaved since he arrived so his stubble was becoming obvious. Stepping back from the conversation, Roymund fetched a breadroll from his satchel, it was a few days old by now but still nice enough for his simple tastes. Sitting on a the chair he'd moved to his bedroll, he inspected the arrow shaft before tossing it onto his satchel.

He took a couple bites from the bread, his stagnant morning breath overpower the taste of the bread, he winced slightly before putting the roll down. He looked up at Gorbad, and caste out a question.
"You've been here longer than me, have you come across them before?" It was timed correctly, being spoken between the blacksmith and the Nords conversation. "Maybe someone will answer this time.." he thought,

[meg knight]

Jormaw, Valton Farm to Outside Jormaw's Shack, Morning.

With his breakfast finished and an anolysis of his new neighbours completed, the argonian fetched some more apples before leaving.

He made his way back up to the shack, thinking on the way of what to do with today's hours before sleep. 'Do some spear fishing in the evening, maybe.'
Jormaw wondered if skyrim rivers had any nightly lurking cuttlefish beneath it's waters. 'Ssh, found them in Hammerfell northern shores, could well be here too.'

If nothing else, he'd have eel, octopus or even shrimp to find within the night's calling. The only problem would be these wolves that have come about.
'Ah the howls are quite similar to old Argonia's durzog packs 'screeches'. Damnable marsh goblins.' Which brought him to the idea of the wolves being possibly herded.

The thought was interrupted by the sight of his guest, Leandra, bursting out of the shack's door in desperation. 'Incense couldn't of been that bad, shouldn't be.'
"Good morning, Miss Tinkerwatch. Have a good night's sleep, aye?" He throwed an apple over to the woman, thinking she'd probably be hungry.

[Rinceoir]

Ulfgar Holdin
Riften, Riften Jail
Morning

The smell of fish was what woke him up from his stupor. That and the loud, irritating rattling on the bars of the door.

“Wake up you drunks!” The Riften Guard said, looking in. “Time for you to pay your fines, or stay here another day and night?”

Ulfgar slowly sat up, the aching of his head felt as if he’d been hit over the head by a troll with a stone in it’s hands, and the rattling of the bars didn’t make it feel any better. He took a moment, realizing his surroundings were the not too uncommon walls of a Riften jail cell. There had been plenty of other times, he had spent a night or two in a cell, not just in Riften.

The rest of the crew was in there with him too, each one of them as in bad of a shape as he was. They were used to waking up to mornings like this though, it wasn’t an uncommon thing for them, but a decent hangover was never easy to get over no matter how frequent.

“Come on,” the guard said again, sliding his empty tankard across the bars. “Get up, get up, time to pay your fines.”

“Do that again, and I’ll break through those bars and beat you with that tankard,” the one and only Dunmer in the crew, said holding his throbbing head.

“Threaten me like that, Elf, and you’ll be leaving here with more than just a few less coins to remember me by.” The Dunmer sneered as the rest just tried easing their pain, not looking to have any sort of conflict. The guard took a moment before walking away, leaving the crew to their pain and suffering.

“Last night must have been another one of those again?” Ulfgar said to a light laugh from the others.

“I remember tossing a table somewhere?” One of the crew members said, a small smile on his face.

“I remember that too, and part of that tavern brawl,” another said, letting out a little laugh.

Everyone in the crew smiled at the memories, but even they were too painful to focus on.

“Those guards did a number on us,” Ulfgar said, touching a rib. He winced at the pain, but it didn’t feel broken, just badly bruised. The others all felt around as well, wincing where the pain was the greatest.

“Ready to pay your fines?” The same guard asked, coming back after another couple of minutes.

“Yeah, let us out of here,” Ulfgar said, catching the sickening scent of vomit, which was no doubt their own.

The guard unlocked the door and lead them to his table. The entire crew smiled through their pain, as they realized in the light of the jail, the horrible bruising and swelling just on the guard's face. He didn't seem so amused by it though, one of his eyes was entirely swollen shut, no doubt done by Gert, one of the Orcs in the crew who had some of the most power fists any of them had known. The beaten guard quickly handed them each their papers with the amount they had to pay in fines, and what exactly it was they were fined with. None of the crew bothered looking at the details of their crimes committed, it was the money they cared about. If the money wasn’t what they were used to, then something was amiss. Looking at their individual payments though, the crew knew nothing was different, it was the same charges they were fined every other time.

After paying their fines which had nearly cost them all of what they had, and being lead out of the jail by a couple of other roughed up guards, Ulfgar and the crew were once again free men and mer, able to if they wanted, or were in the mindset, to terrorize and cause as much trouble in Riften as the night before. But in their hungover state, none in the crew was about to relive the events of the previous night, thinking about it hurt their heads too much.

“Come on,” Ulfgar said taking the lead, “let’s get back to the boat. Make sure no one tampered with it while we were away?”

The crew agreed and followed their Captain. As they got closer to the docks, and thus the fishery, the smell of fish overwhelmed them all. Violently, each of the crew members leaned over and gave up the contents of their stomachs, until there wasn’t anything, and all there was was the dry heaves.

“Come on,” Ulfgar said standing back up, and wiping some vomit from the side of his mouth. “Let’s get to the boat and get out of here, we need some fresh air.”

As they came up on the boat, each of them inspected it, but nothing seemed out of place or been tampered with. There wasn’t much on the boat anyway, Riften had been their drop off point for some goods they’d been hired to ship over to the local market, and they’d already taken care of that, even before their night of drinking and trouble.

“So where’s our next stop, Captain?” The Dunmer asked.

“I’m not sure, Durn, I was thinking we should visit Valton yesterday? We didn’t get any jobs here, so we’ll move on and find somewhere we can get some.”

Durn nodded, and turned to the others in the crew as Ulfgar took a seat right where he was standing. With the quick snapping tone of a First Mate, or as good as he could in the state he was in, the Dunmer quickly gave the crew members their orders to ship off, each of them nodding and moving as quickly as they could to prepare the boat. It seemed Riften had had enough when it came to the wild drunk crew of the trade riverboat named Skjar, but so had they. It was time to find work elsewhere.

[:)Colleenn]

Nellis Nelsh, Hela's Folly.

Nellis looked around the inn. Many were grumbling over a lack of sleep. Last night, packs of Wolves were causing a clamor near town. The fish lipped Nord heard them, but was able to get to sleep easily. But his dreams were not so pleasant....

The visions were starting to stop during the day. No longer was he the conduit of babbling madness. Ever since clearing the mine, those accursed visions were only present in dreams.

Last night's vision was tame compared to the first one. Nellis was in a field, when legions of Wolves appeared. Surrounding him, his dream self began to break down into fear. One of the wolves almost attacked, but something knocked it down! Turning his head, Nellis saw a Charus, like the one mine. Instead of attacking him, the Chitin covered beast was defending him! It ripped through the wolves, one by one, clearing out the entire pack!

The Charus then twisted it's vision to Nellis. He gulped, as a beast like this tried to kill him before. However, the insect rubbed it's chitin covered head against the Nord! Moving his hand to pat it's head, Nellis smiled. The dream started to fade, but one last image appeared.

Fiona Barrow-Heart was in her tower, reading some book. Nellis tried to greet here, but no word's came out. The door flew open, and withered old man in a black robe came charging in. His teeth were pointed, eyes blazing red. A description matching up with the Vampire stories Nellis heard as a child. Armed with a dagger, the vampire started spewing some red magic out of his hand, aiming for Fiona. All the magic passed through here, but she suddenly vanished. The vampire walked over to one of the books, holding his side as if in pain. In a moment that suprised the Nord, the vampire turned to ash, staining the book. And then the dream ended.

Sitting in his room, Nellis thought about the dream. He heard rumors that the court mage had been lost, and that a sellsword with a Dwemer arm investigated her room with a Argonian. Perhaps they would know about the wereabouts of the Reachwoman....

Shaking his head, Nellis recalled that he had more important matters at hand. Gorbad requested more ore, so the Nord would have to get down into the mine at some point. That would be done later in the day. Taking out his pouch of gold, Nellis looked over it with the excitement of a thief eyeing a sweetroll. 1376 pieces of gold, all made from work, more than enough to purchase a home in valton. No longer would he be forced to rent a room in the inn!

As his stomach grumbled, he remembered that he needed to eat. With the inn keeper gone for Zeinthar know's how long, hardly anyone was able to get a good meal. However, the Nord recalled that two farmers were out selling Apples yestarday. That will be a good enough breakfast. I believe the farm is a bit away from Valton... thought the Nord.

Leaving the inn, Nellis went down the road, humming a tune all the way, he stopped when he saw a young lass around the back. The wife of the farmer perhaps? As the farmer was no where to be seen, Nellis decided to walk up to her, asking her about the apples.

"Greetings! I remember you and your husband were in town yesterday, selling apples. I'm wondering, do you have left? I would love to buy some." said the Nord with side burns.

[Tom Flanagan]

Daikanos, Captain’s quarters, Morning of Turdas.

For the first time in what seemed like a very long time Daikanos had finally managed to sleep the whole night without waking up. He knew that being in the barracks meant he had nothing to worry about wolves killing him. Their howls didn’t keep him awake, unlike so many other guards.

When he was up and made his first round he had seen several grumpy and moody guards and Daikanos was sure the nightly activities of the wolves had something to do with it. When he got back in his chambers he get infront of his papers again.

He kept himself busy for atleast an hour before he noticed the sun had scared the night completly away. He got up and stretched his muscles. When he opened the window and looked outside he felt the cold of the morning. This time it was a normal, late-autumn cold though. Perfect for a bit of exercising.

He closed the cold outside again, continued to put on some brown linens and a white shirt. He buckled his sword around his waist and got out of the keep. He passed through the barracks first and grabbed one of the guards passing him. “Go and ask around town if the wolves have caused any trouble to anyone.” He ordered the guard, who saluted and took off.

He went through the barracks and started running. His plan was to take the left at Gorbad’s smithy and then to go around the whole town before returning to the keep to clean himself up and go and see the jarl.

[cheryl wright]

Garrett, Riften Jail, Morning

I had been awake for a while, the sleeping conditions weren't exactely comfortable.
Yesterday had to be the worst day of my life...a wanted man in Markarth, an imprisoned man in Riften not to mention the infected wounds.
I prayed to Julianos, for forgivness of my Stupidity.

Some guards walked over to an adjacent cell, “Wake up you drunks!”
“Time for you to pay your fines, or stay here another day and night?”

Ending my prayer i watched the scene unfold.

“Come on,” the guard said again, sliding his empty tankard across the bars. “Get up, get up, time to pay your fines.”

“Do that again, and I’ll break through those bars and beat you with that tankard,” one of the prisoner snapped at the Guard.

What an idiot...

“Threaten me like that, Elf, and you’ll be leaving here with more than just a few less coins to remember me by!” the Guard roared back.

They continued discussing somethin I didn't pay much attention as one of the guards now approached my cell.
"We took the liberty of paying your fine for you, with interest, enjoy your freedom we'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Fine..." I replied not really caring simply happy to leave.
The other cell let loose a whole gang of men, like a traveling circus.
I walked out of the Jail enjoying being able to stretch my legs, not enjoying my painful wounds.

"Do you have a Temple in this town?" I asked one of the patrolling Guards.

"Yeah, the Temple of Mara, it's right over there." He gestured to my right and front.

As I walked toward the Temple I tried to take in a bit of my surroundings, this place wasn't anything like Markarth, All wood, Planks and mold, "No the nicest looking City in Skyrim I'm sure..." *sigh*

I climed up the Steps to the Temple eyeing the Banners of Mara Drapped near the building, I opened the doors and felt as if i had entered a much Warmer part of the City.

[Chloe Botham]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm - Farmhouse, Morning (not late afternoon!)

The Orc asked for food, milk and firewood. Alguidar's eyes brightened as he took that as signal of the villagers taking notice of his goods.

"Of course! Of course! Right away!" Said Alguidar as he turned around to gather some supplies. He separated some firewood from a pile near the fireplace, then he turned to his crates with his products. He looked at them for a while, scratching his head. Alguidar figured the Orc would like some meat but sadly, he didn't have any. A wrong he would have to correct soon. Also, their encounter yesterday made him think that Gorbad wasn't much of a cook so he searched for products that he could eat without burning them into ash. Maybe enough for a salad. He thought as he started trowing into a crate a mixture of lettuce, tomatoes and carrots. The apples too, they were a must. A small reason to be proud about his new farm. With some luck and hard work, there would be more reasons soon.

He listened carefully to the conversation going on in his farmhouse while he was busy with his request. After he was done, he picked up an empty tin and brought it beside one full of milk. Then, he started pouring the milk in the empty tin, with a ladle.

"Master Gorbad. Tell me when to stop." said Alguidar, to get his attention.

[glot]

Outside Valton's City Limits

Erutáron had been traveling for 24 hours straight since leaving Riften Stables. The sixtgh Hold he had visited since arriving in Skyrim and with much the same response. Already have a stable here and there's no room for any type of expansion. With the 6 horses in tow, he left for Valton as his last attempt before he would admit defeat and head back to Valenwood. With his frustration now rivaling his guilt from his past, he saw Valton in the distance and feared the worse. He tethered the horses to a tree outside the city limits, even though he did not have to. The only way he could tow 6 horses alone is due to his ability to command animals. He could have just asked them to stay put until he gets back but why show off, at least not yet. He still remembers what happened to his father the last time he tried to show off.

Erutáron entered the city and headed for the inn. Where else do you go to find information when you are a stranger in a new city? Erutáron needed to find the Jarl and try to arrange the setup for a new stable to be built. He had the knowledge and the horses, he just needed the septim to build the stables.

The streets were empty but the inn lights were on as he entered. He looked around the room and decided to head to the bar. I hope they have good ale here, so tired of this Nord Mead, maybe even some cyrodilic brandy if he were lucky enough. "Hello, anyone here? I need a bed and some drink." Erutáron muttered as he took a seat at the bar.

[Antonio Gigliotta]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, Valton farm, morning

As Alguidar began putting food into a crate, along with some firewood, Roymund said that they'd indeed heard the wolves. His hunters ears had also pointed out that this was no normal pack, at least size-wise quite big. That didn't sound so good. But before Gorbad could think more about that, the hunter asked:
________________________________
"You've been here longer than me, have you come across them before?"
________________________________
Indeed, Gorbad had been here longer than most actually. The only wolves he'd seen so far were the three inside Shimmermist mine. He doubted they had anything to do with this new pack though.

"This is the first evidence of wolves around Valton. It must be a new pack."
He didn't know much about wolves and what went on in their heads, but he figured they were trying to take over a new area for themselves. Right about then the farmer spoke. Gorbad let him pour milk half-way up the empty tin before he said,

"That should be enough, don't want to buy more than I can drink one day."
Indeed, he didn't want to get food poisoning because he drank old milk. He turned his attention back to Roymund and let the farmer pack ready the crate and tin.

"I hope the arrow-heads were of acceptable quality?"
He said and smiled in a sly way. Just then he remembered the mannequin. It was most likely not even close to ready though, so he didn't ask about it. He thought about the wolves again. An idea took form in his head. "Don't they have lesser souls?" he thought.. Perhaps the shop-keeper would have empty soul gems for sale that he could give to Roymund once he began hunting those beasts. That'd give him some filled gems to work with, adding in that extra something into the weapons and armor he created. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. He didn't know what the hunter thought about trapping the souls of animals though, but the only way to find out was to ask.

"Once you get your strength back, master Roymund, would you be interested in filling some empty soul-gems with the souls of the wolves you hunt?"
He had no idea how the hunter would respond, but he hoped it'd be a positive answer. He had yet to meet hunters who were against soul-trapping, but you never knew.

[Rachael]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Morning.

Just as she was about to finish sawing through a piece of wood she saw a man come around the corner of the house and approach her.

"Greetings! I remember you and your husband were in town yesterday, selling apples. I'm wondering, do you have left? I would love to buy some."

"Eh? I think ye'd find 'im ta be a bit old fer me" she laughed before taking on a more serious voice. "Seriously, we ain't married." She put down the saw and got to her feet. After brushing some sawdust off of her clothes she motioned to the man to follow her. "Ya better talk to Alguidar if yer interested in buyin' food."

She went around the house to the entrance and poked her head through the door. "Oy Alguidar, someone's 'ere ta buy food." She noticed the Orc blacksmith was there with him along with Roymund. "Mornin' Sir." she smiled at Gorbad.

[scorpion972]

Outside Jormaw's shack, morning
Leandra

Dwemer technology reacted before Leandra herself did; with a clang and a puff of steam, her augmented arm shot upwards, catching the apple tossed at her. Overzealous again. She noted with a sigh that, as always when her appendage chose to go rogue, inappropriate applications of force hadn't been avoided - the apple in her palm was slightly... mushy, though still largely intact.

Ought to get that calibrated. But then again, it might just get worse for it. Let's not.

Deciding it was no use crying over spilt milk - or slightly squished apples, more accurately - Leandra chose to just forget the apple (though she did pass it to her left palm for safety) instead shrugging in response to Jormaw's query.

"I've had worse after abductions. Then again I've had better..." Taking a bite out of the softened-up apple, she mumbled something about 'that one fling with the Redoran' through the chewing. Evidently the bit about not talking while eating had been one of the sacrifices of the mercenary age. For Skyrim, this is not so bad an apple. Note to self, investigate Scales' sources. A few more of these, non-squishified, could be handy if all days here always pass by as fast as yesterday... I swear Akatosh went slightly crazy there while working the hourglass.

Biting another chunk out of the apple and stretching a bit - much to the approval of her Dwemer limb apparently, which responded with a protracted hiss and a long stream of steam - the Nibenese looked around half-curiously. "Speaking of, do you make it a habbit of kidnapping everyone you talk to in an inn, or should I feel a return to the whole potential creepy cult in frontier town theme is imminent?"

The answer to that question didn't seem to hold her interest for long; as she took another chunk out of the apple (no thought even remotely close to thanking for it ever crossing her), her mind had already wandered off to more professional concerns - her gaze following suit, as her eyes continued on their way around the surroundings with the glaze of absent-mindedness to them that was rather ordinary for her.

[Jordan Moreno]

Valton...Morning...

Little did Erutáron know about the nearby pack of wolves as he tied his six horses to a tree outside the city limits. As he walked away from the horses, one of them picked up the scent of wolves. It tried to warn Erutáron, but he was already too far away to hear anything. Then, he disappeared into the mass of houses... This was when the wolves began moving. They had earlier feasted on the flesh of horses pulling the carriages, but fought off by a volley of arrows. This time, however, neither man nor mer was visible; only the six horses, all alone…

The entire pack wasn't present, it was only a handful of the most starved and foolish wolves that approached the horses. The horses, however, knew they were approaching and began pulling and pushing at the tree. With a couple of fast movements, the wolves were on them. In the confusion, a wolf took a hard hit from a hoof and retreated in panic. The remaining three wolves, however, managed to severely hurt one of the horses. All six of them kicked at their attackers and pulled at the tree, which cracked in half and let the horses move freely. They ran towards Valton, the wounded one having a hard time to catch up with the others. But one of the horses wasn't as lucky as the others. It was still stuck in the tree, fear in its eyes, breathing heavily and trying to get away from the death-trap. Without hesitation, the wolves surrounded it... Only seconds later did they feast on the flesh of the horse, painting the ground and river red...

The five other horses charged into the city of Valton, almost crushing an orc with dwarfism on their way to the town center...

[Stacey Mason]

The Inn inside Valton Morning

His request was barely out of his mouth when Erutáron heard the commotion out front. He didn't need to turn around to know what was happening. "The Horses!!!" . Without a word Erutáron bolted from the bar and rushed through the door of the Inn. He saw four of his six horses bucking wild in the streets. He puffed his chest and uttered a simple command.

"Calm" He said and instantly the four horse settled and came to attention, eyes focused on Erutáron. He knew what had happened. "How could I have been so blind? I should have sensed the wolves out there. My guilt and frustration must have blocked it. Damn you Erutáron. You need to have better control of yourself, now look what you have caused."

It was then he saw the painted horse hobbling in from a distance. His hind leg covered in blood as he dragged it along the road. Erutáron rushed to him. He needs help and fast. He already could feel the fate of the sixth horse. It was one of the Chestnut Brown horses. He would need to act fast in order to save the painted horse's life.

Erutáron looked around but the street was empty. He yelled out "Is there a healer or someplace I can lay this horse down and help him? I need help. Please help me!!!

[jessica sonny]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Farm. Morning

Roymund was alittle taken aback by the Orcs request. He knew of the art of soul trapping, but had never tried it himself. "Dont i need some sort of blessing on my bow for that?" he thought, a slight look of confusion spread across his face. "I'd be happy to do it, friend, but i'm afraid i dont have the.." he paused briefly, unsure of how to word it "My bows just plain, havent had it blessed by a mage." he switched his eyesight from the Orc onto Alguidar, who busied himself sorting the supplies. After a moment, he returned his gaze on Gorbad "If you know of any other way, i'd be happy to be of service."

Jacqueline returned to the farmstead, she greeted Gorbad and spoke of another stranger outside interested in the food supplies. "Guess word got around.." he thought. "And oh yes, the arrow heads look to be of fine quality though i fear they'd be wasted on my usual quarry. My thanks."

[Stacyia]

Jormaw, Outside Jormaw's Shack, Morning.

The saxhleel was amused by the woman's obvious uninterested concern of her *supposed* good night's sleep in a comfortable bed.
"Oh you nibenese always focused on the bad side of things." Saying as he watched Leandra chow down on the crushed apple.

He yawned slightly before continuing, "So it didn't even come to mind that someone had charitably offered you a warm rest for once."
The lizard's eyes rolled in fashion to this response of her ladyship's question. For a nibenese woman, she was quite an ungrateful guest to have.
"I know after a hard day's battle that it isn't always favourable to sleep in piss water, drunks and someone throwing up on you."

"But at any rate, I think I know how your little stumped men contraption feels now." Saying as he watched the machine steam away.
His mind boggled to argonian tradition, "The thing has enough personality in kin to my own, thus I shall give the intelligent metal a name."
"Crampswitch. Yes, that seems a name fitting for such a bravado of steam." And with that, his mind seperated the two creature's out of one.

He would no longer see as he saw yesterday. A curious human woman with an odd mechanism. No, from one now came two bodies of life in Jormaw's thoughts.

~~~~~~

Urgoc, Valton Town, Morning.

The orc had caught up to the elf just in time. However, before he could start cursing and throwing punches at the golden skinned bigot of a thief,
the man simply dropped the wolf at his feet. It looked to Urgoc like the man had thought him a whelp of the streets, deserving of a rotten wolf carcass.

But the only thing which the dwarf could do was pelt a large rock at the horse's leg while it rode away with the scum of mer kind. Enough to harm it.
Which most likely ensured that the altmer wouldn't be striding back in pride of whatever he was doing. No, he'd have to walk back, like common folk.

With enough fury still in the little man, he made his way up to the tallest housing of the town. As he would deign to talk to the town's worthless chieftan.
Indeed, as it was his carts which were put in harm's way because of this man's negligence. He would see to it that they pay free blood debt in return.

However, it would seem he had more weight to his argument with what would just happen. A small pack of wild horses had rode rampent into the town,
almost crushing the green skinned dwarf had it not been for his companion Skarc quickly tussling the small orc to the side of the road in time to survive.

From this final disruption gave the man a mind to make haste for the keep. As this town was chaotic, unstable, revolting. Not worthy of any sane man.
So with the help of Skarc, he made his way to the keep's front gate. Facing them was two laughable guards, whom immediately questioned them.

[Carlos Vazquez]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Morning

Alguidar was assembling the products requested by the blacksmith near the dining table when he heard Jacqueline's voice from the doorway: "Oy Alguidar, someone's 'ere ta buy food."

Plenty of good news to start off the day that made for a much more enjoyable morning than the previous one. Almost too enjoyable. All the demand made him wonder if there was some deeper reason for all his visitors. Maybe Skarpi was low on supplies. Maybe Daedra were toying with him, setting him up for future failure. Ah, must be my apples! He finally thought as he walked proudly to the door.

"Excuse me for a moment." He said, as he passed through the small crowd of people that was quickly assembling near the doorway. He made his way out of the farmhouse and around the corner. Halfway to the back, he saw a Nord he had never seen before. Big lips, common clothing and a pickaxe were the things that got his attention. Obviously a miner from Valton, he figured. Although Alguidar wasn't aware of any mines close by.

"Hey! I'm Alguidar. Welcome to my farm!" He said with a big and uncharacteristic smile in his face. It's been a long time since he saw another Nord around here, he almost forgot he was still in Skyrim. He extended his hand to his guest as he awaited him to speak.

[Miss Hayley]

Outside Jormaw's shack, morning
Leandra

The comment on her people's pesimistic - or plain whiny, depending on how one looked at it - tendencies was simply shrugged off by the mercenary. Something that sounded somewhat similar to 'it's why we're the ones running empires after the hillmen build them' was mumbled as a response, muffled as it was by having to fight its way past the new bite of apple to escape her mouth. In her defense, she genuinely found the apple quite delicious, though more to blame was the fact her body was performing both eating and responding mechanically at the time while her mind wandered elsewhere.

It was swallowed just in time for Leandra to shrug at the other comment as well - this time literally - making for a much clearer response. "Generally it's a good rule of thumb never to bet on charity. Those who do tend to end up breathing much less than I'm comfortable with." Charity, luck and things being what they seem to be at first glance were the three things she - or anyone sharing her profession who liked their heads attached to their necks firmly - never depended on.

This same trinity of unreliables - along with some other useful house rules for the budding adventurer - was what guided her mind in forming the rough lines of a plan for the day. She'd decided way back the previous evening that the Jarl's advice to question the locals was sound, but of course one needed more defined a plan than that to get anywhere.

"Huh, Crampswitch?" The loose bit of information pierced the veil around Leandra's mind for a moment. She tilted her head slightly. "Crapswitch would be more like it..." There was a hint of playfulness to her irritated glance at the Dwemer augmentations that lurked beneath the covers of her trenchcoat's sleeve, as though the cold hard metal could pick up on the tease. "Buuuut, Veronica seems to like the thing well enough, and since I'm not going anywhere without her, one thing leads to another..."

Her voice trailed off into mumbles of 'not that the arm isn't useful by itself' and 'it does have a temper, there's no denying that' and other similar fragments for a time as the blue of her eyes became slightly glazed once more. Finally, the Nibenese shook her head.

Right. Gotta start somewhere. "Is there anywhere in particular you got the apple from? My pack could use a little extra weight before.." Again her voice trailed off, leaving Jormaw with little but an abstract gesture that seemed to indicate their entire surroundings.

[stephanie eastwood]

Itan-Ru, Valton Chapel, Morning

Itan-Ru opened his eyes, finally waking up from his deep sleep. He slowly looked around the room, refreshing his memory of the previous days events. He got dressed in, instead of his usual blue, robes of the bright gold that signified priesthood, though he left the hood down. He headed downstairs and found that no one was in the room downstairs that served as the chapel. Either he had woken up on time, or more likely, the word of his little temple hadn't yet spread.

He went over to the desk that had his notes from last night on it, the black lines of a raven's internal workings displayed on the pages. The ink had long since dried, so he closed the book without fear of smudging and quickly brought it up to his room, setting it down on the desk and returning downstairs, where he sat down on one of the benches. This was a rare moment for him, where he was unsure what to do next. The work to the room had already been done, so it would be serviceable. No one was calling for his help at the moment, and no one had yet come to hear a service. So he decided he would do as he sometimes did when he was not needed, he would practice magic.

He stoop up and walked out of the house, and made his way to the back of it. He didn't want to risk setting his chapel on fire, so he decided that doing this outside was best. He found a suitable spot and closed his eyes, focusing on the spell. He raised his hands and allowed flames to appear in them, then he began shaping the small flow of magicka being fed to the flames, shaping them in turn. He changed the shapes of the flames, forming geometric objects, items, and with more concentration, small fiery animals appeared on his palms. He was concentrating completely, attempting to train the control he had over his magicka. Control was essential for all schools of magic, but arguably the most control-demanding schools was Restoration.

The magic had to be wielded precisely, with one small mistake potentially being disastrous. The magic had to be used like a scalpel, affecting only what needed the changes and nothing else. these little flame exercises helped immensely with his magicka control, allowing him to practice shaping magicka without the risk of hurting anyone or any thing. He was content to continue these exercises until he felt himself starting to lose focus, at which point he would pause for a while and rest, allowing his stores of energy to replenish themselves before beginning anew. This cycle would continue until he was needed, or someone wished to speak to him.

[Dean]

Ulfgar Holdin
Mouth of Lake Honrich

As the boat sailed into the mouth of Lake Honrich, a light breeze filling the single sail, Ulfgar was glad to be getting back onto the river ways, and doing business. It meant he could focus on other things, rather than the painful night before. His pain persisted though, just like the others in the crew, so he got up and went to the stern of the boat, pulling from his large personal collection, a small bottle of brandy before sitting back down against the mast of the boat. He always had a bit of the hair of the dog after such a night, it helped clear his mind and ease his pain.

While Ulfgar slowly drank the brandy, his mind slowly clearing up, the crew continued quietly about their duties. He watched as, Durn, the only Dunmer on the boat, gave his orders to the crew just as he’d done years before. For little less than a decade, Ulfgar had been sailing with Durn and the others. He could remember meeting them all for the first time, and how at first Durn hadn’t been so kind and friendly. Although he still carried himself that way with others in most cases, Durn wasn’t so unkind or unfriendly to the crew, or his now Captain, anymore. Originally hailing from Morrowind, Durn had been there when things went horribly wrong, and Red Mountain erupted. He, like so many other Dunmer, became refugees in a land becoming just as tumultuous as Morrowind. For years after coming to Skyrim, Durn had lived the life of a poor refugee, finally finding work with their former captain. Eventually finding his place, like all the others on the crew.

Rahd, the only Redguard on the boat, had also come from far away. Ulfgar looked up to the top of the mast, as Rahd sat at the very top, his legs supported by two small beams that jutted out of the mast’s sides, and supported his legs so he could sit somewhat. He’d come all the way from Sentinel, at first a simple Sell Sword for anyone who would pay his prices. It was how he came aboard the Skjar in the first place, after being hired as extra muscle, but it was where he called home ever since. He was a rough and tumble Redguard, who knew how to drink as well as any Nord, and had the sharpest eyes for spotting dangers or potentially dangerous things.

Ulfgar respected Rahd, he’d been a hard worker ever since he’d joined the crew, and quietly turned to find another. He quickly spotted Gert, the Orc of the crew, and surprisingly the kindest of all of them, standing beside his fellow deckhand, Luther. When Ulfgar had first joined, Gert had been with their former Captain for three years. Originally from one of the many Orc Strongholds, Gert was made homeless after it was attacked and most of the Orcs were left dead or dying. Gert had been one of those left for dead, but somehow managed to pick up his feet and survive for several months alone, injured, and fending off wild animals, before reaching a village that luckily had a healer. It was in that small village, Gert met the former Captain and soon joined as a sturdy deckhand.

Luther, who Ulfgar watched leaning over the port side of the boat, vomiting up some more of whatever was still in his stomach, was the last of the crew, and a half-Nord, half-Imperial. It was his Imperial side, Ulfgar and the others figured made him weaker than the rest to that of alcohol. He always seemed to get the sickest afterwards. But regardless, he was a hardy man to have on the boat. Originally from Cyrodiil, Luther had been a simple farm laborer, working from sun rise to sun set. When the war broke out, Luther came to Skyrim as apart of the Empire. For problems not mentioned, Luther fled the life of the Empire, after something with his commanding officer gave him no other options that allowed him to continue on living. He never spoke about it, not even to the crew, but then again, nobody asked since one of their mottos on the boat, spoken by their previous captain was, “All have their history, but what led them here does not concern us.” Ulfgar upheld that motto as Captain, along with the rest of the crew, and which was why none ever asked Luther about his problems with the Empire. The Captain only watched as his second deckhand violently heaved and groaned, swearing at himself as he tried to get control.

Ulfgar smiled, and turned back to what was happening elsewhere on the boat. His time reminiscing about the crew, had spent up the entire bottle of brandy, and evidently had passed enough time that Valton was just starting to come into view.

“Valton off the port bow!” Rahd called down to the rest. Everyone turned to see as the newest Hold in Skyrim came into view. There wasn’t much too it, just another town in their eyes, but it was a place that could mean work.

With a rise to his feet, and tossing the empty bottle overboard, Ulfgar jumped to his Captaining self, stepping beside Durn with orders to the crew.

“Prepare the boat for docking, pull up that sail, we’ll coast the rest of the way! Watch out for any rocks in the water along the shore, we’ll be running up it to dock!”

Durn nodded at his Captain, the best he could do as a smile, as he repeated the orders to the crew and jumped to the rudder controls. In a flash, everyone else in the crew was scurrying around the deck of the Skjar, getting everything ready as Durn brought the bow of the boat towards the shore, ready to ride up it far enough to dock secure. There wasn’t very many big rocks on the shore, but where Durn steered the boat, there was a big enough gap between some large rocks, the Skjar could gently ride up on the smaller pebbles.

The boat came to a gentle stop as it was latched onto the shore. Ulfgar stepped to the bow and leapt off, turning back as Gert tossed him his belt and sword. After a quick check to make sure it was secured, Durn along with Gert disembarked as well, leaving Rahd and Luther to watch the boat while they went to see what they might find for work in Valton.

[kelly thomson]

Daikanos, running in Valton, morning.

He had just started running when he heard the earth tremble. His trained ear and mercenary senses told him the trembling came from horsehooves. Not much later he heard the screams of a man. “Is there a healer or someplace I can lay this horse down and help him? I need help. Please help me!!! “

He fastened his pace and ran down to Hella’s folly, where he could see a bosmer standing next to wounded horse and four other horses standing close by. He shouted at the man. “I’ll go and get the priest.” Bloody idiots ruining my morning exercise. Can’t even keep his horse safe from damn wolves.

He turned around and ran back to the chapel of Mara, which wasn’t so far from the scene. His feet carried him a quick as possible thinking that the wolves really had to be taken care off. He couldn’t care less if they’d stayed outside of town but if they even come inside than it means the people weren’t safe and although he didn’t really care about them it was their safety that gave him his pay.

He pushed the door open and shouted for the priest but there was no one to answer. Figuring that the priest had to be here somewhere he closed his eyes and opened his mind. He could feel the present of someone, but he felt human and he was told the priest was an argonian. He spread out his search field until he felt an argonian presence outside the chapel.

He ran outside again and then around the chapel where he saw an argonian practicing magic through the controling of fire. He called forth a strong breeze to extinguish the fire as he called out to the healer. “enough fooling around. Someone needs healing.”

[Chris Guerin]

Itan-Ru, Outside the Valton chapel, Morning

Itan-Ru's connection to the flames in his hands broke as a strong wind blew them out, followed by a voice telling him someone was hurt. he immediately whipped around to face the man who had called out, seeing that a Dunmer was the one who called out for him. He could feel that his reserves of magicka were still fairly high, the practice not consuming very much of it. He briskly walked up to the elf and said,

"Someone's hurt? Where? How badly? You can fill me in as we get there, just lead the way and I'll follow!" he didn't want to waste time chatting around, when he knew that seconds mattered if the wound was serious enough.

[Benjamin Holz]

Valton, Morning in the street between the blacksmith and the Inn. Erutáron saw a dunmer run by and he muttered something about a priest or something. Erutáron went back to tendiing to the horse. The leg was in pretty bad shape. The muscle was torn to shreds and the bone was now exposed from all the bucking. Erutáron had gotten the horse to lay on it's side. They were in the middle of the road in front of the Blacksmith's place. "I hope this priest can help" thought Erutáron. The wounds were too severe for any help Erutáron could offer. He may be looking at two dead horses. It felt like an eternity but off in the distance, he saw that same Dunmer running with an Argonian. I hope the lizard is the priest the dunmer spoke of.

[Stat Wrecker]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Morning

Titu nodded and stood up. "I'll go take a walk, keep a look out for anybody suspicious."
He walked out of the inn and looked around. His head still hurt, but it was slowly getting better. He walked towards a nearby guard. He might join the town guard. Along with Danus, he could make a lot of money, and would give him the authority to investigate anything suspicious.
He stopped near the guard and said, "Excuse me, but do you know where I could go to join the guards. I'm looking for work."
He had forgotten since yesterday, and hoped that this wasn't the same guard he had talked to. The man would probably think he was an idiot. But Titus couldn't tell the guards apart due to their helmets, and hoped that he didn't end up looking stupid.