Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Tread Lightly (CLOSED Oblivion RP)

As of August 13th we have the maxmimum allowed players in this topic. More players would be too confusing, sorry! A new Oblivion RP can be created some other time, of course. Or you can make your own!

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Setting
Oblivion, lands of Tamriel, province of Cyrodiil. Third Era, Fifth Century, shortly before the death of Uriel Septim VII in the year 433.



Just a few OOC notes on the RP topic:
- Please follow a posting order. Give everyone a chance to chip in their side of the story for extra fun!
- It would be nice if everyone could post once a day. If we haven't heard from you in 3 days, the active roleplayers will work out a valid IC reason for your character's silence without your input. If you want us to stick to a certain story, just give us a heads up!
- Please keep OOC comments within your IC posts. If there's a dire situation or announcement to make, a new post is welcome, otherwise edit your IC posts to keep the topic all tidy.
- I'm not going to tell someone they can't RP with us, but at some point it becomes difficult to include 20 characters and have 20 active roleplayers waiting for each other's posts. I'd prefer we stay around 5 players/characters, give or take, to keep the roleplay rolling.
- There is no required post size. Considering the number of people who will likely join in, we may need to stick to somewhat smaller posts, but with slower paced RP big posts are fine as well!


A few rules so that we can all have fun:
- Don't god mode. You can't decide what other characters will say, do, or how they react or feel about certain things. Doing so for another player's character is frowned upon. Please refrain from doing it, unless you worked it out with the player.

- Please stay within reasonable boundaries. It is no fun to any of us if your character fixes all of the world's problems in just two posts. Don't make up new powers to have your character keep the upper hand through various situations, it's unrealistic. Characters tend to excel at one thing but be bad at other things, this makes them balanced.

- I expect everyone to be nice. If you need to talk out your differences with someone, please do so privately as to not upset the rest of the group. Should you wish to retire from the roleplay for any reason whatsoever just let us know, I'd prefer this happens without drama though.

It had been an awful week, as far as the weather went. The skies remained clogged with clouds and drizzled some of the chilliest rain upon the lands, making travelling outdoors quite an unpleasant task for anyone who got stuck doing just that. It was supposed to be high summer, yet the sun kept itself hidden and the heat had been nowhere to be found.

To be honest, she didn't mind so much. It made things easier for her in the long run when she was on another mission. Folks remained indoors for most part, leaving few witnesses to more unfortunate events from time to time. The only thing she did worry about was keeping her horse dry. The faithful stallion, who listened to the name Ebon, had a tendency to catch a cold if he was kept out in this weather too long and took away some of her often precious days to ensure he was nursed back to health.

She lowered the note she procured earlier and gazed out over the road. She saw the world through a filter of cloth, her eyes unable to tolerate the brightness of the day. Ebon shifted below her to scrape the dirt and snorted, and Maddi adjusted her weight in the saddle. Ahead of her lay the road to the Imperial City with Cheydinhal in her wake. The note contained bad news, at least for the person who was marked a target in it.

"Looks like someone got themselves into trouble by taking something that doesn't belong to them," she spoke quietly. Ebon perked his ears at his mistress' voice and neighed softly. She lightly dug her heels into his sides and took off into the direction of the Imperial City.

Astarill walked up the stairs from the hold into what had been turned into the tap room of the Bloated Float. It wasn’t much to look at, this ship-turned-inn, and it was about as comfortable as a broom up the backside, but the discomfort and the roars of drunken sailors throughout the night made him feel oddly at home. And at the very least, it gave him something to nag about, which was always welcome.

He walked over to the nearest window and peered outside. There was another thing to nag about. The weather. He harrumphed.

“How about a drink and a meal first, then?”

Astarill turned away from the window to look at the innkeeper, another Altmer, leafing through a ledger behind the bar. He then looked back at the window, then down at his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“… Yes, all right.”

Ath had just finished speaking with the Fence in the Imperial city. He had netted himself a heafty sum of money, and contributed to the guild's coffers quite nicely this day. The wood elf was dressed in simple clothes this morning. Silver bow was strung across his back, a quiver of steel arrows, and a silver long sword was strapped to his waist. All in all, he looked like most travelers would and blended in quite well. Ath made his way down to the market district and entered A fighting chance. "Good morning my good lady." He spoke to the woman behind the counter. "Need repaired and sharpend please."

The woman would nod and tell him the price it would cost, his sword having taken a couple good hits on a recent expedition of his. Ath then would unbelt his sword and hand it over along with the gold. He would nod as the shop keeper told him when to come back and Ath headed back out onto the streets of the Market disctrict.

She was walking from the Arena. Caelstila had no problem in killing anyone she met in The Arena, and the fact she had agrim smile when killing her opponent made her something to be feared. Caelestila was walking To the Bloated Float as apart of her daily life,but something stopped her. The smell of the rain seemed odd to her as if whatever in her mind was stopping her. their she stood in the middle of the street in the rain.

Rain... It was pouring in the Market District. Beings rushed around to escape the just opened floodgates of heaven. All but one, a young, and rather small girl, who on top of the building segment known as the Merchants Inn. Cross-legged, bent over, with her hands and arms supporting her head; The girl sighed to herself. Other than wet hair and a wet tail, the rain didn't bother her. If anything, it kept her presence hidden, something she was much appreciative of.

On the pillar, across the road from her, a wanted posted was being drenched, its ink running off. It had no name on it, but the picture resembled the girl only a few hundred feet away. The reward was over seven thousands Septims. Wanted for murder, thieving, destruction of property, and assassination of Count's across the land.

Even though most of it was washed away, it didn't matter, she had memorized every line of it. The she'd already had to kill three people just for approaching her with the posters. Killing bounty hunters was pointless, and not very fun either.

She sighed again.
"I need to clear my name."

The sight from the top of the firehouse was inspiring, despite the terrible weather. Between the boats dancing on the waters of Lake Rumare and the people buzzing on the docks down below, Dakari Sohadin could see in every nook and cranny of the Waterfroont. The ideal spot for a painter. And for an assassin.

The thought almost curled up the left edge of her lips. Almost.

Instead, she absentmindly shaked the rain off of her old, brown cloak and touched the notebook she was always bringing with her. She had foolishly hoped that the raindrops would stop to fall long enough for allowing her to sketch the landscape, but it seemed her prayers for a lull had fallen on deaf ears. Dak was now soaked, her black hair dripping down her neck, and shivered slightly. ...An interesting way to die, she thought, catching your death of cold...

From her roost, Dakari had seen The Bloated Float slowly swaying to the waves of Lake Rumare. The idea of a sweet, hot drink looking more and more imperative, she headed for the stairs, then for the inn.

(If you guys don't mind, I'm gonna wait a bit for a more opportune time to bring in Dust. Thanks!)

It didn't take too long for her to reach the Imperial City. Half a day, at most, with a small break inbetween. She had mulled over this man who had taken property from the Brotherhood and sworn to deliver not just a quick, painless death. Nobody stole from the Brotherhood and got away with it. Nobody.

The man was an infamous High Elf known as Lorundil Gladro, who had... issues. Not only did he speak gibberish to people who dared venture into a conversation with him, he also couldn't help himself steal things. This time it had been a very precious journal of one of the siblings from Cheydinhal, containing information that could mean the end of their Sanctuary if it got into the wrong hands. And of course, a man who had such a precious item in his possession was not allowed to live.

She stabled her horse outside the tall walls, and did her best to appear casual and fit in with the crowds. Such was... difficult with her appearance, but she kept her face hidden well with her hood and besides a few odd glances, she was quickly getting where she wanted to be; the market district.

Now all she needed was to find someone, anyone, who had information on this man. She spotted a Wood Elf just leaving the shop called 'A Fighting Chance' (really, which idiots made up these names?) and she approached swiftly, standing before him within moments. "Good day sir, I have a problem and I was wondering if you could help me." Maddi was a unique appearance of her own, soaked by the drizzle and her eyes covered by the blindfold. It was good enough for her to see through, but most assumed she was blind. That, and her pale green scaled skin raised many questions. Clad in her snug fitting shrouded armor, only her face could give that away.

Astarill dragged the last of his bread along the bottom of his bowl to gather what little was left of his soup. Chewing slowly, he turned his head towards a window, behind which the rain continued to pour down relentlessly. Sooner or later he was going to have to brave the weather if he had any ambition to get off this blasted boat while he still had legs to stand on.

Later, he decided. Just a little while later.

He didn’t have to go anywhere. He wasn’t expected back at the guild hall in Cheydinhal for a week or two at least, and his business at the Arcane University involved no one but himself, and so it could wait as well. But the simple truth was that he couldn’t stand the Imperial City. It was too big, too noisy. The less time he’d spent there, the better. Only the Arboretum could count on his approval, but the weather had managed to spoil all the appeal that district might have had as well.

He shoved his empty bowl away and caught the eyes of the innkeeper.

“Ale, please,” he said while reaching for his coin pouch on the back of his belt.

Dust hurried through the pouring rain, lifting up the skirts of her sodding robe and dodging puddles as she made her way along the docks of the Imperial City. She frowned, gazing up at the sky, looking for even a glimpse of sunlight, but the oppressive clouds overhead didn't seem to be giving up any time soon.

"Fine. be that way." She sighed, shifting her bag and continuing on. "Let's see if I remember - The Bloated Float, somewhere around - ah hah!" She smiled, striding to the inn, oblivious to the odd look she got from a courier.

The inn smelled good, and was wonderfully warm after the cold rain. Dust wrung out the sleeves of her robe, glancing around before her eyes lit up at a familiar sight.

"Astarill! Long time, no see!" Dust beamed, sitting easily beside the Altmer and dragging a hand through her soaking hair. "Wonderful weather we're having. What are you doing here?" She caught the eye of the innkeep as she spoke, tilting her head. "Can I have some stew, please, and a mug of mead?"

Looked up to the heavens as it started raining and sighed softly. "Figures" He murmmers and shakes his head. "Gonna have to wipe down my bow and quiver later." Ath would grumble and cross his arms. He would start to walk away when he was stopped by a woman. A smile would appear on the wood elfs voice and he turned to her. "Good day miss, and maby, what is it you need help with?." He would ask as his eyes would flick over the womans form then up to the cloth around her eyes.

Ath placed hands behind his back. He was curious about the cloth around her eyes, she could not be blind......after all how else would she know he was male? So maby aversion to the sun? Maby scars that she didn't want to show? The questions ran through his mind though that would have been rude of him to ask.

She just walked through the rain with little to no problem at all. Caelestila was heading back to the Arena to just be amongest fellow gladiators. She of course was the Arena Grand Champion,but did not care for the title much nor did she ask for a nickname to be given to her. finally entering the bloodworks she sighed. "blood is what I smell,and it is not these walls that are speaking to me." In The Arena everyone found her a bit odd that at almost any given moment she would say something even if it did stray from topic on whatever it is the others were talking about to her.

The Zamora simply pulled up a chair and sat down to her stale bread and a cup of water. she began to eat wondering of what would happen if the rain let up. The people that would be running around the streets. The men,women,boys,and girls all running around happy without a care in the world. Caelestila's Arena match was tomorrow against Ten Of the yellow and blue teams finest men and women. Though of course everyone knew Caelestila was just going to slaughter them all without a care in the world. Why would she even care? The Blademaster would say to the announcer who hosted the matchs. She simply stared at the Red Room knowning she would go through that blood stained gate tomorrow with one thing in mind.

Still thinking to herself about how she was going to solve that bounty problem, a more immediate problem caught her attention. It was the hooded figure making her way through scrambling crowds below. Instantly, she recognized her as a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Only one who had previously been in their ranks would have caught on so quickly, and that is just what she was. A 'previous' sister of the Brotherhood. Taking contracts and killing in the name of someone else had made her feel too much like a slave again, so one day she packed up and left. Apparently, that didn't sit too well with the Brotherhood, considering their multiple attempts to have her killed.

Therefore, the assassin who had just stopped to talk no more than sixty feet away, and needed only to look up to see the feline girl, was no small threat. In a quick movement, she rolled off of the dome shape and scurried to the other side of the roof. Questions running through her mind about how they could have possibly found her. Then something crossed her mind, if she had been found, she would not have seen the assassin first, and would much more likely be scrambling for a weapon only seconds from death.
With that in mind, her curiosity had been piqued. Unfortunately, Leyx was unfamiliar with the phrase "Curiosity killed the cat."

On the slippery roof, she slowly made her way back over its edge, staying back enough to be mostly out sight, but with the wood elf and assassin just in view. Squinting her eyes, she payed close attention to the movement of their mouths. Having been a slave was not all a disadvantage, one learns quickly to watch mouths, even possibly read lips, when failing to hear could mean a harsh beating.

Just a little OOC message for informing you that I'll be absent from the board for a week. Have fun everybody!


Dakari immediatly realized her mistake once she stepped in the Bloated Float. Between the bad weather and the swell, the ship-turned-inn pitched and rolled. Not too much, not enough for most of the customers to notice it, especially the sailor ones, but Dak felt her stomach turning. She briefly thought of returning to the Temple District, but the idea of the rain made her shake stronger and she resigned herself. Dak gritted her teeth and walked to the counter for taking a seat here.

“…a soup, of tomato if you have some, and a goblet of shein”, she ordered, not caring about the puzzled look she received in return. Shein was an alcohol more often served in the town and villages beside the frontier with Morrowind but Dakari had a soft spot for the beverage and drank it each time she was able to. It would ease her seasickness, while the soup would warm her soaked bones.

A brief glance around made her notice a copy of the Black Horse Courier. She took it and started to read. The newspaper was only three days old, and its subject made her snort.

The bridge of death!

There are sights in the morning which encourage you to stay in your bed and forget about the crazy world outside, as can confirm the honorable Snak gra-Bura, the owner of the Chestnut Handy Stables, after she found the naked corpse of a dead man hanged to the bridge by his genitalia, his throat slit open

“I woke up for feeding mys…the horses, and the corpse was here! It was like a nightmare,” she said to our reporter, “and I will never feel safe again! Neither will my horses!”

According to Adamus Phillida, commander of the Imperial Legion forces in the Imperial City, the victim is Primo Lusius, until recently a liquor merchant. Adamus Phillida also emplied the involvement of the Dark Brotherhood.

“My brother was a man with many adversaries,” admits Velus Lusius, brother of Primo, “and it seems one of them decided he finally deserved to die.”

It’s a new tragedy for Velus Lusius whose wife died last year in an unsolved way. Our deepest sympathy on this sad loss.

Dak put down the newspaper and massages her forehead, waiting for her soup. It definitely felt odd to read her own feats in that rag. And the very memory of Primo’s genitalia made her even sicker than she already was, her face turning greener and greener by the second.

(((OOC: Sorry to post before my turn, but it has been three days, and I will not be having internet-access from this evening until the 23rd of August, so I have to post now or not at all. I hope it won't be a problem. It's still Sanne's turn. Just pretend this post comes after her post. EDIT: I'm back, and there's still no post. It would be nice if those who don't want to continue the RP would just say so.)))

A mug with half a pint of ale was shoved towards Astarill’s end of the bar, when the Altmer heard his name. He turned his head in the direction of the voice and observed as the familiar face of Cheydinhal’s local alchemist headed towards him. A twitch of his left eyebrow was all the greeting he managed to give her before she had already taken a seat beside him.

After she placed her order with the innkeeper, he grumbled a reply to her question, “I would appear to be having a drink.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate on the exact circumstances, and looked down at the dark brown liquid in his mug, which he made swirl by circling the mug over the bar’s surface.

If he was interested in learning Dust’s own reason to be here, he didn’t voice or show it. He had grown quite accustomed to the alchemist’s ability to volunteer a flood of verbal information without requiring much conversational input from his side, which was just fine with him.

He did look up briefly at the newcomer further down the bar when his ears picked up the request for shein. The last time he had heard that word was at one of the settlements in the mountains of the eastern border. He wouldn’t have expected anyone to ask for it around here, in the heart of Cyrodiil. He frowned, and kept an eye on the innkeeper. He would be very surprised indeed if Ormil actually served the beverage.

(OOC: I hoped to let Sanne post, but unfortunately it's been some time and we haven't heard from her, so I'll go ahead. As Ethelle did, please just pretend it's in the right order!)

Dust grinned at the Altmer's usual 'sense of humour' as it could loosely be called. "Well, that much I could determine." She took her stew gratefully, blowing on it before scooping in her spoon. "I mean, what are you doing in the Imperial City? Business, travel?" She took a bite of stew and winced at the sudden burst of heat in her mouth. "Ouch!" She shook her head and sipped her mead before smiling at Astarill. "I'm here getting a dress fitted. And visiting Ogier - you know The Main Ingredient? I worked with him for some time while I was at the university, so we make it a point to talk shop every so often." She blinked rainwater out of her eyes, dragging a free hand through her soaked hair.

Its fine Miwahdu, group forum is not for everybody..........as for the rp, What does everyone else want to do?}}