Astarill snarled at the Imperial woman’s insult, then snarled again when the grummite in front of him dropped dead with the woman’s arrow through its skull. Was she blind? Had she left her mind back in Vilverin? He had that grummite secured. She should’ve focused on killing the other after he had incapacitated it to allow the two archers time to aim at it without getting shot themselves, or on driving the other grummite out of the water.
“If you hadn’t wasted your time threatening the one who brought you here on your own request, you might have had the presence of mind to see what was going on and act accordingly,” he barked back at the woman.
Bloody amateur, he thought. If this was the kind of person his life depended on, he started to think perhaps he’d have better luck facing the Dark Brotherhood.
Luckily, the Bosmer at least possessed the insight to kill the last remaining grummite on land. Now there was only the one in the water, the one the Imperial woman was now headed for with her knife drawn. Astarill scoffed and sheathed his sword. He felt very much disinclined to assist, since his help had not exactly been appreciated before. He was only a foolish mage, after all. He would do more wrong than good, wouldn’t he? Very well. He would focus on his own problems alone, from now on.
He scoffed again and walked over to Dust. He twitched an eyebrow as he looked her over momentarily. The alchemist was covered in mud from top to toe. He felt it might be a bad idea to ask if she was alright, and instead glared over to Lorundil briefly. He then turned, crossed his arms, and stood beside Dust to passively observe the battle with the last grummite from a distance.
“The spell went well,” he told Dust matter-of-factly, without sarcasm. He spoke at a normal conversational volume. His words might perhaps be audible to the Bosmer, but not to the Imperial woman, who was too far away and did not possess Elven ears. Considering the variables involved, he had to admit the spell had worked very well indeed, but he didn't say that out loud.
“If you hadn’t wasted your time threatening the one who brought you here on your own request, you might have had the presence of mind to see what was going on and act accordingly,” he barked back at the woman.
Bloody amateur, he thought. If this was the kind of person his life depended on, he started to think perhaps he’d have better luck facing the Dark Brotherhood.
Luckily, the Bosmer at least possessed the insight to kill the last remaining grummite on land. Now there was only the one in the water, the one the Imperial woman was now headed for with her knife drawn. Astarill scoffed and sheathed his sword. He felt very much disinclined to assist, since his help had not exactly been appreciated before. He was only a foolish mage, after all. He would do more wrong than good, wouldn’t he? Very well. He would focus on his own problems alone, from now on.
He scoffed again and walked over to Dust. He twitched an eyebrow as he looked her over momentarily. The alchemist was covered in mud from top to toe. He felt it might be a bad idea to ask if she was alright, and instead glared over to Lorundil briefly. He then turned, crossed his arms, and stood beside Dust to passively observe the battle with the last grummite from a distance.
“The spell went well,” he told Dust matter-of-factly, without sarcasm. He spoke at a normal conversational volume. His words might perhaps be audible to the Bosmer, but not to the Imperial woman, who was too far away and did not possess Elven ears. Considering the variables involved, he had to admit the spell had worked very well indeed, but he didn't say that out loud.
“…and if you had look around you before casting you spell, you would have noticed I was taking care of that grummite,” barked Dak in return. “And unlike you or your girlfriend, when I do something I do it right. Bloody amateurs.”
It was ridiculous to argue in such a situation, but it had to be said. Unless the tit lived in that swamp, her spell had been a complete failure. Her house in Bliss, seriously? Dak had heard that mud was good for the skin, but it was nothing to bliss out to.
The bowgrummite shot at the magpie, who shot back and killed it on the spot, and the hawk apparently decided that the last grummite wasn’t his fight. Dak didn’t care. The water healed the monster? She slashed her knife at the monster and forced it to step back in direction of the shore. And again. And again. And again. And again. Until the grummite eventually stumbled on the ground and the blade of the knife entered its chest right to its heart. After a few seconds, in which he managed to punch Dak in the jaw, it stopped to shake. Without blinking, Dak pulled the knife out, cleaned it on the dead monster’s loincloth, put the knife back to her belt and turned for walking back to the others, her head tilted and her jaw hurting.
“…now, what went wrong?” she asked at the tit. Not that she really cared.
It was ridiculous to argue in such a situation, but it had to be said. Unless the tit lived in that swamp, her spell had been a complete failure. Her house in Bliss, seriously? Dak had heard that mud was good for the skin, but it was nothing to bliss out to.
The bowgrummite shot at the magpie, who shot back and killed it on the spot, and the hawk apparently decided that the last grummite wasn’t his fight. Dak didn’t care. The water healed the monster? She slashed her knife at the monster and forced it to step back in direction of the shore. And again. And again. And again. And again. Until the grummite eventually stumbled on the ground and the blade of the knife entered its chest right to its heart. After a few seconds, in which he managed to punch Dak in the jaw, it stopped to shake. Without blinking, Dak pulled the knife out, cleaned it on the dead monster’s loincloth, put the knife back to her belt and turned for walking back to the others, her head tilted and her jaw hurting.
“…now, what went wrong?” she asked at the tit. Not that she really cared.
Ath would find some tree that was growing in the swamp, luckily there was a good bit of dead wood here, and leans against it while watching the others and watching Dak and Astarill fight with words. He could feel his blood running down his side and he grimaced somewhat before looking down to the arrow. Yep, he was gonna be mad at someone.
Ath sighs softly and grips the arrow in his side before he decided to speak.
"Don't suppose someone has a healing potion upon there person? I sure as hell don't right now."
He muttered then barred teeth as he gritted them in expectation of the pain that was about to come to him. He broke the shaft of the arrow and then would suddenly pull the thing out with a hiss. Pain spiked through his body and he clenched his right hand, digging fingernails into his palm drawing blood. Hey, he didn't cry out so if something came to eat them it would be all on Dak and Astarill's loud voices.
"Good question though."
He mumbled to Daks question to Dust as he tore his sleeve off his arm and bunched it up to press against the wound in his side. Ether way before they moved it would have to be tended with potion, bandages, or healing magics or else he would just be a hindrance.
Ath sighs softly and grips the arrow in his side before he decided to speak.
"Don't suppose someone has a healing potion upon there person? I sure as hell don't right now."
He muttered then barred teeth as he gritted them in expectation of the pain that was about to come to him. He broke the shaft of the arrow and then would suddenly pull the thing out with a hiss. Pain spiked through his body and he clenched his right hand, digging fingernails into his palm drawing blood. Hey, he didn't cry out so if something came to eat them it would be all on Dak and Astarill's loud voices.
"Good question though."
He mumbled to Daks question to Dust as he tore his sleeve off his arm and bunched it up to press against the wound in his side. Ether way before they moved it would have to be tended with potion, bandages, or healing magics or else he would just be a hindrance.
The spell went well. The few positive words she heard were enough to lift Dust's spirits, if only slightly. She wiped more mud from her face, watching as Dakari killed the last grummite. "Oh." She spoke rather faintly, idly pulling a leech off one of her forearms. "Thank you."
Dakari made her way towards them as Dust pulled herself out of the mud, her spirits rapidly deflating at her question.
"I don't know." I do, however, seem to remember warning you all of the dangers." She glared at the woman, trying to squelch more mud off the sleeves of her robes, before a thought occurred. They all had likely never seen he Madhouse before - for all they knew, they could be in Sheogorath's chamberpot. Might as well be, for all this shit. The thought gave her a brief flicker of a smile before she became neutral again. "We are in the Shivering Isles, at any rate - Dementia. It's just not precisely where I wanted."
Ath'vesu repeated the question as he moved towards them, and she was about to snap at him as she had Dakari before noticing his bloodied hands. "We're - you're wounded." She frowned, looking over the wound and moving closer, if he allowed it. "You shouldn't have pulled it out right away - you'd lose a lot of blood. But I can heal you, if you like." Thanks to that last potion - after that, they'd have to depend on whatever she could regenerate in time for her magic.
She knelt and, if he allowed it, first poured water from the pouch on her belt to clean his wound, then placed her hands around the it, cupping it before closing her eyes and gently reciting the incantation of a healing spell. Ath might have felt rather soothed, pain dissipating, as the wound would close. If he didn't allow her to care for the wound, Dust would look briefly offended, but not interfere further.
Dakari made her way towards them as Dust pulled herself out of the mud, her spirits rapidly deflating at her question.
"I don't know." I do, however, seem to remember warning you all of the dangers." She glared at the woman, trying to squelch more mud off the sleeves of her robes, before a thought occurred. They all had likely never seen he Madhouse before - for all they knew, they could be in Sheogorath's chamberpot. Might as well be, for all this shit. The thought gave her a brief flicker of a smile before she became neutral again. "We are in the Shivering Isles, at any rate - Dementia. It's just not precisely where I wanted."
Ath'vesu repeated the question as he moved towards them, and she was about to snap at him as she had Dakari before noticing his bloodied hands. "We're - you're wounded." She frowned, looking over the wound and moving closer, if he allowed it. "You shouldn't have pulled it out right away - you'd lose a lot of blood. But I can heal you, if you like." Thanks to that last potion - after that, they'd have to depend on whatever she could regenerate in time for her magic.
She knelt and, if he allowed it, first poured water from the pouch on her belt to clean his wound, then placed her hands around the it, cupping it before closing her eyes and gently reciting the incantation of a healing spell. Ath might have felt rather soothed, pain dissipating, as the wound would close. If he didn't allow her to care for the wound, Dust would look briefly offended, but not interfere further.
Astarill gritted his teeth, then opened his mouth to speak, but he changed his mind and instead drew his sword again. For a brief moment it seemed he might intend to hurt the Imperial woman.
Enough was enough, he decided. Anger flared and seemed to sear through his veins, where it eroded his patience and ground it to powder. Finding a peaceful solution was no longer worth submitting himself to the whims of the fickle, the unreliable and the bloody infuriating. His life was at stake. He really did wonder why he thought he could rely on other people to cooperate with him towards a solution that would please everyone involved. There was no relying on anyone but one’s self. He would put an end to this.
His original plan of action came to mind again, and his angry expression became neutral. The Dark Brotherhood was looking for him, so it wouldn’t be hard to find them. And when he did, he’d have something to offer them, he decided. Lorundil was a cultist of Sheogorath. Were they in Morrowind, he would be outlawed. In Cyrodiil, he was a thief, one that had apparently acted without permission of the Grey Fox. No one would miss him. No one of consequence. A small price to pay. He should have done this much sooner.
What went on inside of him never surfaced to break his now blank expression. “Thank you for your help,” he said and looked at Dust for a moment. “I apologize for wasting your time.” He then looked to the Bosmer, the only one who could give him trouble. The man was occupied with his wound. Astarill then looked at the Imperial woman. “I don’t need you.”
He walked backwards, stepping away. In an instant, he moved to Lorundil and grabbed the other Altmer by the hair. Lorundil’s eyes opened wide and he protested loudly in Daedric, proclaiming that the High Lord of Fishsticks would not tolerate this insolence. The mad man flailed his arms and scratched open the skin of his assailant’s face, near missing the left eye because Astarill barely averted his head in time.
With wild movements of his arms and frantic yelling, Lorundil began to invoke a spell. Astarill snarled, and drove his sword through the mad man’s belly and into his liver. The waving and yelling stopped after the first two words of the spell. Within the blink of an eye, Astarill pulled the blade free, moved behind his look-a-like, and delivered a forceful kick against the back of the man’s knees, meanwhile mentally repeating his anatomy studies of humanoid vertebrae to hit the right place and make what he was about to do as quick as possible: He brought his sword down, and cut off Lorundil’s head when he sank to one knee.
Blood added to the mud on his clothing, and Astarill stepped back with his look-a-like’s severed head in his hand. The decapitated body of the High Lord of Fishsticks began a slow descent into the mud. Astarill glared at the Bosmer, who he figured would like to do the same to him as he had done to his friend. Still, exchanging the enmity of a cult of assassins for the wrath of a single Bosmer was as good a deal as he could get.
He opened his mouth to speak, and then, with a three-word incantation, disappeared. He had phased out of this dimension, and had teleported to gods know where.
(((OOC: Sadly, it seems obvious that Astarill has become unmanageable in this RP, and I wanted to take him out of it. A valuable lesson learnt concerning where to play him!
So, after a thorough discussion with silver_wolf98 about the consequences, the general consensus was that Lorundil was getting annoying. I decided to take Astarill out of the story in this manner, which is as logical as I can make it under the circumstances.
I propose to bring in Nebekh after a while, who is less difficult to deal with.
For lack of the NPC who carried the plot, it seems Ath now has a new goal and that is to kill the Altmer who killed his Altmer. Silver_wolf said Ath might also develop an intense hate for the Dark Brotherhood, so perhaps he and Dakari could team up there, if a new plot device is needed. Nebekh can be easily persuaded to help.
I could also send Sanne a message to ask her to edit the topic’s title to “open” so more people might join. Shall I do that?)))
Enough was enough, he decided. Anger flared and seemed to sear through his veins, where it eroded his patience and ground it to powder. Finding a peaceful solution was no longer worth submitting himself to the whims of the fickle, the unreliable and the bloody infuriating. His life was at stake. He really did wonder why he thought he could rely on other people to cooperate with him towards a solution that would please everyone involved. There was no relying on anyone but one’s self. He would put an end to this.
His original plan of action came to mind again, and his angry expression became neutral. The Dark Brotherhood was looking for him, so it wouldn’t be hard to find them. And when he did, he’d have something to offer them, he decided. Lorundil was a cultist of Sheogorath. Were they in Morrowind, he would be outlawed. In Cyrodiil, he was a thief, one that had apparently acted without permission of the Grey Fox. No one would miss him. No one of consequence. A small price to pay. He should have done this much sooner.
What went on inside of him never surfaced to break his now blank expression. “Thank you for your help,” he said and looked at Dust for a moment. “I apologize for wasting your time.” He then looked to the Bosmer, the only one who could give him trouble. The man was occupied with his wound. Astarill then looked at the Imperial woman. “I don’t need you.”
He walked backwards, stepping away. In an instant, he moved to Lorundil and grabbed the other Altmer by the hair. Lorundil’s eyes opened wide and he protested loudly in Daedric, proclaiming that the High Lord of Fishsticks would not tolerate this insolence. The mad man flailed his arms and scratched open the skin of his assailant’s face, near missing the left eye because Astarill barely averted his head in time.
With wild movements of his arms and frantic yelling, Lorundil began to invoke a spell. Astarill snarled, and drove his sword through the mad man’s belly and into his liver. The waving and yelling stopped after the first two words of the spell. Within the blink of an eye, Astarill pulled the blade free, moved behind his look-a-like, and delivered a forceful kick against the back of the man’s knees, meanwhile mentally repeating his anatomy studies of humanoid vertebrae to hit the right place and make what he was about to do as quick as possible: He brought his sword down, and cut off Lorundil’s head when he sank to one knee.
Blood added to the mud on his clothing, and Astarill stepped back with his look-a-like’s severed head in his hand. The decapitated body of the High Lord of Fishsticks began a slow descent into the mud. Astarill glared at the Bosmer, who he figured would like to do the same to him as he had done to his friend. Still, exchanging the enmity of a cult of assassins for the wrath of a single Bosmer was as good a deal as he could get.
He opened his mouth to speak, and then, with a three-word incantation, disappeared. He had phased out of this dimension, and had teleported to gods know where.
(((OOC: Sadly, it seems obvious that Astarill has become unmanageable in this RP, and I wanted to take him out of it. A valuable lesson learnt concerning where to play him!
So, after a thorough discussion with silver_wolf98 about the consequences, the general consensus was that Lorundil was getting annoying. I decided to take Astarill out of the story in this manner, which is as logical as I can make it under the circumstances.
I propose to bring in Nebekh after a while, who is less difficult to deal with.
For lack of the NPC who carried the plot, it seems Ath now has a new goal and that is to kill the Altmer who killed his Altmer. Silver_wolf said Ath might also develop an intense hate for the Dark Brotherhood, so perhaps he and Dakari could team up there, if a new plot device is needed. Nebekh can be easily persuaded to help.
I could also send Sanne a message to ask her to edit the topic’s title to “open” so more people might join. Shall I do that?)))
Dak didn’t react, not to the drawn sword, neither to the words and the death of Lorundil. The anger was gone and it left nothing but emptiness. She had tried to keep the turkey alive long enough for him to give her the journal, but since he had claimed that he wasn’t the one having it anymore, she had stopped to care. Hawks killed turkeys, it was the natural cycle. And with the turkey dead, the hawk had no reason to stay in that place anymore. It was natural as well.
“…the thief is dead, as asked by the Dread Father. Witnesses, never forget,” Dak simply said. Her jaw still hurt and she stroked it softly while thinking of what to do now. The journal hadn’t totally slipped though her fingers yet but she was now in a land she didn’t know and hadn’t the time (neither the will) to discover properly.
It would depend of the tit, she decided, though Dakari had no illusions on the woman’s will to go on. Or on her skills, for that matters.
(OOC: Honestly, I doubt that Dakari would agree to team up with Ath, mostly because she doesn't trust him and see no reason to associate him to her own seek of revenge. I don't say it's impossible, but it's very unlikely.)
“…the thief is dead, as asked by the Dread Father. Witnesses, never forget,” Dak simply said. Her jaw still hurt and she stroked it softly while thinking of what to do now. The journal hadn’t totally slipped though her fingers yet but she was now in a land she didn’t know and hadn’t the time (neither the will) to discover properly.
It would depend of the tit, she decided, though Dakari had no illusions on the woman’s will to go on. Or on her skills, for that matters.
(OOC: Honestly, I doubt that Dakari would agree to team up with Ath, mostly because she doesn't trust him and see no reason to associate him to her own seek of revenge. I don't say it's impossible, but it's very unlikely.)
Ath looked to Dust chuckling softly to what she said. Sure he could have left the arrow in but he rather it be out of him right this moment and he would voice this very opinion to her right now as he pressed harder upon the wound in his side.
"Id be more afraid of poison on the arrow before blood loss." He mumbled
Ath nodded to her as she asked if she could heal him. He had no problems with letting her get near him and start to wash the wound. Ath watched her before the sound of Astarill speaking would draw his attention. Ath frowned slightly to the man then blinked at the sword being drawn. Well seemed that the altmer finally had enough of Dak? But to his complete and utmost surprise the man moved behind Lorundil.
Ath went completely still then mouth opened in silent words as he saw that sword plunge into his friend. His brain couldn't comprehend what just happened for a few brief seconds then everything went into overdrive. Ath's eyes filled with rage and the need for blood as Astarill pulled back that sword. Ath pushed Dust out of the way suddenly and ran, ran for all he was worth drawing his sword as he went.
"NOOOOOOO!!!!!" He yelled in pure rage.
When the bosmer got close he leaped and using all his strength he would bring the sword down at Astarill but far to late as the mage man disappeared with his friends head. Ath landed on his feet, sword slashing into the swampy ground. His chest rose up and down fast, eyes showed white as he looked down at the corpse of his brother thief and friend.
"Lorundil........" he spoke, voice filled with pain.
What to do, what to do......no longer were thoughts bent upon that journal, no his thoughts were on nothing but Astarill and finding the man and doing ten times worse to him then what he just did to the dead man down there. Ath dropped to his knees, tears starting to fall down his cheeks and with a trembling hand he reached out to take a broach from the males clothing.
"ASTARILL I WILL KILL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Ath yelled out suddenly in rage and he stood up turning to bore his eyes into Dust. He had met the man in her company, they seemed to be friends, and she knew how to get him back to the mainland instead of having to wander and find a way out. Aths eyes were wide, tear stained, pupils small right now and the look in them was a mixture of madness, rage, hate, sadness, and pain.....extream pain. Fingers tightened upon that sword hilt and he started to walk towards her.
"Take me to the mainland. Take me to the sanctuary. Take me to Astarill!"
Each word he spoke was in time with a foot step that brought him closer to the woman even if she was backing up. Dak was completely forgotten right now in this all encompassing feeling he had, everything but the new singular goal he now had.
"Id be more afraid of poison on the arrow before blood loss." He mumbled
Ath nodded to her as she asked if she could heal him. He had no problems with letting her get near him and start to wash the wound. Ath watched her before the sound of Astarill speaking would draw his attention. Ath frowned slightly to the man then blinked at the sword being drawn. Well seemed that the altmer finally had enough of Dak? But to his complete and utmost surprise the man moved behind Lorundil.
Ath went completely still then mouth opened in silent words as he saw that sword plunge into his friend. His brain couldn't comprehend what just happened for a few brief seconds then everything went into overdrive. Ath's eyes filled with rage and the need for blood as Astarill pulled back that sword. Ath pushed Dust out of the way suddenly and ran, ran for all he was worth drawing his sword as he went.
"NOOOOOOO!!!!!" He yelled in pure rage.
When the bosmer got close he leaped and using all his strength he would bring the sword down at Astarill but far to late as the mage man disappeared with his friends head. Ath landed on his feet, sword slashing into the swampy ground. His chest rose up and down fast, eyes showed white as he looked down at the corpse of his brother thief and friend.
"Lorundil........" he spoke, voice filled with pain.
What to do, what to do......no longer were thoughts bent upon that journal, no his thoughts were on nothing but Astarill and finding the man and doing ten times worse to him then what he just did to the dead man down there. Ath dropped to his knees, tears starting to fall down his cheeks and with a trembling hand he reached out to take a broach from the males clothing.
"ASTARILL I WILL KILL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Ath yelled out suddenly in rage and he stood up turning to bore his eyes into Dust. He had met the man in her company, they seemed to be friends, and she knew how to get him back to the mainland instead of having to wander and find a way out. Aths eyes were wide, tear stained, pupils small right now and the look in them was a mixture of madness, rage, hate, sadness, and pain.....extream pain. Fingers tightened upon that sword hilt and he started to walk towards her.
"Take me to the mainland. Take me to the sanctuary. Take me to Astarill!"
Each word he spoke was in time with a foot step that brought him closer to the woman even if she was backing up. Dak was completely forgotten right now in this all encompassing feeling he had, everything but the new singular goal he now had.
Dust nodded and knelt by Ath'vesu, carefully and gently cleaning the wound of any muck that might have gotten in from the mud of the swamps. She gave a quiet, amused snort at his comment. "They do use poisons, but it still wouldn't do you any good bleeding to death to try and get rid of it. You'd attract baliwogs. No poison here, anyway." She carefully put away her water before cupping her hands around the wound, a soft, comforting light emanating from her hands as her spell would stitch the wound shut.
Astarill's voice rose, and it took her a moment to finish the spell and realized she'd been addressed. She turned to stand, frowning. "What do you mean, wasting my ti -"
Suddenly both Altmer were fighting, Astarill grabbing Lorundil by the hair, Lorundil casting scratching him. Lorundil's frantic Daedric cry of his royalty was followed by a spell. What in Sheogorath's name - !? Dust backed off before gasping as Astarill's sword drove into the madman's belly, and only a moment afterwards his head was held in Astarill's hand by the hair.
"What…" Dust blinked, staring dumbly as Astarill spoke a few words before disappearing and the High Lord of Fishsticks made his slow descent into his grave.
"What… just happened?"
The assassin spoke only a few, simple words that sent shivers down Dust's spine. Never forget. There was a cry of utter fury and Dust winced as Ath'vesu leapt towards where Astarill had once stood before mourning the loss of his friend. She cringed. He's dead - the poor thief - poor Astarill - why is it all going this way? She shuddered, then slowly froze, feeling eyes burning on her. She slowly raised her gaze to met them and shrunk at the emotion in them, backing away as the Bosmer stalked towards her, enunciating with every step that brought him closer even as she backed away.
"I…" She whispered, suddenly feeling very small as the Bosmer approached. After a moment her voice rose. "I can take you back to the mainland. Both of you." She glanced at Dakari, wondering her stake in all of this now with Lorundil gone, before turning to stare at the Bosmer. "But I won't lead you to Astarill. I don't know where he's gone any better than you." She swallowed a growing lump in her throat, remembering the pain in his eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry about your friend. I didn't… predict this, either. But…" She took another step back before forcing herself to stand still, eyeing his hand on his sword hilt. "I'll transport you home, but no further. No matter what threats you might give." She stiffened, jaw set, and watched for his reaction.
Astarill's voice rose, and it took her a moment to finish the spell and realized she'd been addressed. She turned to stand, frowning. "What do you mean, wasting my ti -"
Suddenly both Altmer were fighting, Astarill grabbing Lorundil by the hair, Lorundil casting scratching him. Lorundil's frantic Daedric cry of his royalty was followed by a spell. What in Sheogorath's name - !? Dust backed off before gasping as Astarill's sword drove into the madman's belly, and only a moment afterwards his head was held in Astarill's hand by the hair.
"What…" Dust blinked, staring dumbly as Astarill spoke a few words before disappearing and the High Lord of Fishsticks made his slow descent into his grave.
"What… just happened?"
The assassin spoke only a few, simple words that sent shivers down Dust's spine. Never forget. There was a cry of utter fury and Dust winced as Ath'vesu leapt towards where Astarill had once stood before mourning the loss of his friend. She cringed. He's dead - the poor thief - poor Astarill - why is it all going this way? She shuddered, then slowly froze, feeling eyes burning on her. She slowly raised her gaze to met them and shrunk at the emotion in them, backing away as the Bosmer stalked towards her, enunciating with every step that brought him closer even as she backed away.
"I…" She whispered, suddenly feeling very small as the Bosmer approached. After a moment her voice rose. "I can take you back to the mainland. Both of you." She glanced at Dakari, wondering her stake in all of this now with Lorundil gone, before turning to stare at the Bosmer. "But I won't lead you to Astarill. I don't know where he's gone any better than you." She swallowed a growing lump in her throat, remembering the pain in his eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry about your friend. I didn't… predict this, either. But…" She took another step back before forcing herself to stand still, eyeing his hand on his sword hilt. "I'll transport you home, but no further. No matter what threats you might give." She stiffened, jaw set, and watched for his reaction.
The whole reaction of the Bosmer would have owned him a trophy from the Imperial Theater Institut, thought Dakari. Coming from a man who had led the Brotherhood directly to his now deceased friend, it sounded wrong. Did he really expect that nobody would be killed…? Right, the last blow was supposed to come from an assassin, but…
“…I’m tired of that place,” she said without blinking. “It was a disappointing experience.”
It was indeed. Dak shook her head. If she left, the journal would be lost forever to both her and the Brotherhood. Maybe it was for the best, she eventually decided. Who could know, maybe that journal was contained nothing but the enamoured ramblings of one of the Sisters about Lachance? It was common in the Sanctuary, another reason why Dak usually stayed away from the place. Nothing worth being killed by random grummites in a swamp named Bliss.
“…I’m tired of that place,” she said without blinking. “It was a disappointing experience.”
It was indeed. Dak shook her head. If she left, the journal would be lost forever to both her and the Brotherhood. Maybe it was for the best, she eventually decided. Who could know, maybe that journal was contained nothing but the enamoured ramblings of one of the Sisters about Lachance? It was common in the Sanctuary, another reason why Dak usually stayed away from the place. Nothing worth being killed by random grummites in a swamp named Bliss.
Ath's eyes would blaze harder in anger at Dust's words and his fingers would tighten on his sword hilt. She wouldn't take him to the other Altmer?! Well he would see about that. Ath suddenly would raise his blade and stab it into the tree behind her, the one he had been walking her towards with his advancement. If she did not move, or strike out at him, he would lean in closer to her face. Ath's lips peeled back into a snarl then.
"You will take me to the altmer, you will help me track him down if need be or else you won't be tracking anything any more."
If it was an idle threat or not she wouldn't know, but with the way he looked it probably wasn't idle threatening. He also didn't believe that she did not know where the man was going, she was dark brotherhood and she was the mans friend it seemed so to him he figured she knew........of course he probably wasn't thinking in the right mind right now, just of anger. Dak's words drew his gaze over to the assassin and he growled out.
"Then stay in Sheogoraths accursed realm for all I care, if your not going to help then stay the hell out of my way or I will cut you down as well!"
Yes, yes the bosmer was very very angry it seemed. His anger turned back to the woman he was in front of, assuming she had not taken the time to move while his attentions were else ware. Her words of her being sorry only helped to stoke the fire in him for a reason he wasn't sure why.
"I doubt you really are sorry, but take us back now and then take me to him."
He snarled and ripped his sword out of the swamp tree stepping back and waiting for her to utter her spell on them. If the assassin lady wanted to come she could, if she didn't she could stay here then or go off somewhere else when they got back.
((If need to change anything let meh know!))
"You will take me to the altmer, you will help me track him down if need be or else you won't be tracking anything any more."
If it was an idle threat or not she wouldn't know, but with the way he looked it probably wasn't idle threatening. He also didn't believe that she did not know where the man was going, she was dark brotherhood and she was the mans friend it seemed so to him he figured she knew........of course he probably wasn't thinking in the right mind right now, just of anger. Dak's words drew his gaze over to the assassin and he growled out.
"Then stay in Sheogoraths accursed realm for all I care, if your not going to help then stay the hell out of my way or I will cut you down as well!"
Yes, yes the bosmer was very very angry it seemed. His anger turned back to the woman he was in front of, assuming she had not taken the time to move while his attentions were else ware. Her words of her being sorry only helped to stoke the fire in him for a reason he wasn't sure why.
"I doubt you really are sorry, but take us back now and then take me to him."
He snarled and ripped his sword out of the swamp tree stepping back and waiting for her to utter her spell on them. If the assassin lady wanted to come she could, if she didn't she could stay here then or go off somewhere else when they got back.
((If need to change anything let meh know!))
Dust shrunk, flinching as Ath'vesu's blade stabbed the tree behind her with a raw, scraping sound. He leaned in close, uncomfortably close, hissing threats. Fear bubbled up hot and sickly like bile in the back of her throat.
"If you harm me, you'll have the entire Dark Brotherhood after your blood." She looked up suddenly, eyes blazing, as intimidating as she could make her small frame seem. "I don't know where he's gone. There's nothing I can do to help you and your threats aren't going to change that!"
She stood as tall as she could, chin up and jaw set, but inside she felt weak. My magicka's gone from healing him, I have barely enough to get us home. If he attacked me… She shuddered, casting her eyes to the mud.
"I'm taking us all home. Stand still."
The incantation Dust gave earlier now tasted like rust, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Dust grimaced as she spoke it, surpressing shudders and only hoping it did indeed work this time. The buzzing hum of life in the swamp, the murky peat and raw smells faded as she whispered the words -
And suddenly, once again, they were back. In the silent halls of Vilvern, still cold and dark. They could never have left, save the mud splattered on them and Dust's missing boot and bag. She looked up again, taking a deep breath and glancing between Ath'vesu and Dakari.
"Time - moves strangely, in the Isles. It could be only a few minutes after we left, here. But - we're back, anyway." Without Astarill - she briefly hoped he stayed safe before reassuring herself that he could take care of himself.
"I'm - I'm sorry you didn't get the journal." Dust glanced at Dakari, giving a quiet nod. She wondered if this woman would tell anyone what had transpired at all, to what ends she was working. If she was indeed a traitor. But there were more pressing matters, at the moment. With that in mind she looked straight at Ath again.
"And I'm sorry about your friend. I am." Her voice shook for a moment before regaining strength. "But there's nothing I can do to help you."
"If you harm me, you'll have the entire Dark Brotherhood after your blood." She looked up suddenly, eyes blazing, as intimidating as she could make her small frame seem. "I don't know where he's gone. There's nothing I can do to help you and your threats aren't going to change that!"
She stood as tall as she could, chin up and jaw set, but inside she felt weak. My magicka's gone from healing him, I have barely enough to get us home. If he attacked me… She shuddered, casting her eyes to the mud.
"I'm taking us all home. Stand still."
The incantation Dust gave earlier now tasted like rust, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Dust grimaced as she spoke it, surpressing shudders and only hoping it did indeed work this time. The buzzing hum of life in the swamp, the murky peat and raw smells faded as she whispered the words -
And suddenly, once again, they were back. In the silent halls of Vilvern, still cold and dark. They could never have left, save the mud splattered on them and Dust's missing boot and bag. She looked up again, taking a deep breath and glancing between Ath'vesu and Dakari.
"Time - moves strangely, in the Isles. It could be only a few minutes after we left, here. But - we're back, anyway." Without Astarill - she briefly hoped he stayed safe before reassuring herself that he could take care of himself.
"I'm - I'm sorry you didn't get the journal." Dust glanced at Dakari, giving a quiet nod. She wondered if this woman would tell anyone what had transpired at all, to what ends she was working. If she was indeed a traitor. But there were more pressing matters, at the moment. With that in mind she looked straight at Ath again.
"And I'm sorry about your friend. I am." Her voice shook for a moment before regaining strength. "But there's nothing I can do to help you."
The magpie’s behavior was becoming less and less coherent and it made Dak to raise an eyebrow.
“…I see, you and that turkey were lovers,” she simply said before looking at the tit and nodding grimly. She had decided she hated that spell, but since it was the single way to return to Nirn…and at least there were no swamps in Vilverin.
And indeed they were back at Vilverin. The strong musty smell was like a breath of fresh air.
“…it doesn’t matter,” said Dak when the tit talked to her. “I doubt that journal was worth it anyway. It was a foolish hope, as always.” After a moment, she spoke again. “…I, however, have to apologize for my previous behavior; I am no mage, it is not my role to judge if a spell has failed or not. I don’t doubt you…did your best, considering the circumstances. I also plan to look for the hawk,” she added, suddenly stroke by inspiration, “I own him apologizes and a bottle of shein, after all.”
But she planned to do it alone. She glared at the magpie.
“…try to kill the tit, and you are a dead man. Try to follow this crow, and you’ll be dead as well. The Wilds are not kind. Neither am I. I think the best everyone is to branch off from each other now.”
“…I see, you and that turkey were lovers,” she simply said before looking at the tit and nodding grimly. She had decided she hated that spell, but since it was the single way to return to Nirn…and at least there were no swamps in Vilverin.
And indeed they were back at Vilverin. The strong musty smell was like a breath of fresh air.
“…it doesn’t matter,” said Dak when the tit talked to her. “I doubt that journal was worth it anyway. It was a foolish hope, as always.” After a moment, she spoke again. “…I, however, have to apologize for my previous behavior; I am no mage, it is not my role to judge if a spell has failed or not. I don’t doubt you…did your best, considering the circumstances. I also plan to look for the hawk,” she added, suddenly stroke by inspiration, “I own him apologizes and a bottle of shein, after all.”
But she planned to do it alone. She glared at the magpie.
“…try to kill the tit, and you are a dead man. Try to follow this crow, and you’ll be dead as well. The Wilds are not kind. Neither am I. I think the best everyone is to branch off from each other now.”
Ath scowled at Dust to the mere mention of the dark brotherhood. It seemed that was not the best idea at all in mentioning them to the bosmer who was so very obviously angry, and getting more angry by the minute since he was still in the blasted ruins.
"If they come, they will be recruiting for new members."
He stated simply as he indicated he had no problem slaughtering any of the agents who came after him. He would not die before he found Astarill of course. Daks words though had Ath looking to her and his gaze grew heated, angered.
"Don't make a threat you can't back up. You come against me and I will leave your corpse to the birds."
My my, charming little bosmer when angry wasn't he? He didn't see her as any help and thus he had no patients for her right now, nor her idle threats and warnings about her being dangerous. He scowled once more though as she continued.
"Ether help me find him, attack, or get the fuck out and out of my way already and go about your own. We don't need your advice if your not going to help find Astarill."
He would then wash his hands of her and turned to stare at Dust. Oh he had plans alright, and she was going to be at the center of them.
"If they come, they will be recruiting for new members."
He stated simply as he indicated he had no problem slaughtering any of the agents who came after him. He would not die before he found Astarill of course. Daks words though had Ath looking to her and his gaze grew heated, angered.
"Don't make a threat you can't back up. You come against me and I will leave your corpse to the birds."
My my, charming little bosmer when angry wasn't he? He didn't see her as any help and thus he had no patients for her right now, nor her idle threats and warnings about her being dangerous. He scowled once more though as she continued.
"Ether help me find him, attack, or get the fuck out and out of my way already and go about your own. We don't need your advice if your not going to help find Astarill."
He would then wash his hands of her and turned to stare at Dust. Oh he had plans alright, and she was going to be at the center of them.
Dust shuddered under the Bosmer's stare, looking back with wide eyes. He wouldn't really kill me, wouldn't dare - would he? If he does… She felt her magicka slowly seeping back, but not quick enough to defend herself. And the anger in his eyes…
Dust took a deep breath and a step backwards, almost unconsciously. She spoke as softly and soothingly as she could manage, hoping to calm the Bosmer, or at least convince him she wasn't useful nor a threat. "I am going to walk away now. I'm going home." She glanced at Dakari and nodded, grateful for her words of defense. "…Thanks. You're right - we should all just branch off, now. There's no point staying here." She inclined her head, glancing with a wince at her increasingly cold, bare foot before shaking her head. "Goodbye."
If undeterred, Dust would turn around and swiftly make for the exit, holding her head high and not looking back, trying to steady herself. From the tracks and mud left behind, she could easily be followed along her path from the ruin to the Imperial City, where she would collect her things from an inn before beginning the long journey home, back to Cheydinhal.
(I hope this works for everybody - as far as I understand, the plan is that Ath'vesu will quietly track Dust to Cheydinhal, where Astarill has left her a note saying he's in Morrowind, then kidnap her and drag her there to lure out Astarill. I figured I'd try to skip the probably dreary 'Ath watches Dust walk for several hours, stop and sleep, keep walking' that would be the journey to Cheydinhal.
Unless anyone else has ideas? If so I can certainly rework this post.)
Dust took a deep breath and a step backwards, almost unconsciously. She spoke as softly and soothingly as she could manage, hoping to calm the Bosmer, or at least convince him she wasn't useful nor a threat. "I am going to walk away now. I'm going home." She glanced at Dakari and nodded, grateful for her words of defense. "…Thanks. You're right - we should all just branch off, now. There's no point staying here." She inclined her head, glancing with a wince at her increasingly cold, bare foot before shaking her head. "Goodbye."
If undeterred, Dust would turn around and swiftly make for the exit, holding her head high and not looking back, trying to steady herself. From the tracks and mud left behind, she could easily be followed along her path from the ruin to the Imperial City, where she would collect her things from an inn before beginning the long journey home, back to Cheydinhal.
(I hope this works for everybody - as far as I understand, the plan is that Ath'vesu will quietly track Dust to Cheydinhal, where Astarill has left her a note saying he's in Morrowind, then kidnap her and drag her there to lure out Astarill. I figured I'd try to skip the probably dreary 'Ath watches Dust walk for several hours, stop and sleep, keep walking' that would be the journey to Cheydinhal.
Unless anyone else has ideas? If so I can certainly rework this post.)
The magpie’s threats didn’t impress Dak. How could he kill somebody already dead? “…you don’t seem to realize what’s you’re saying. Either you’re having a death wish or you’re just stupid. In both case, I don’t care.” With a nod at the tit, Dak slowly headed back to the entrance. The night had been long and it wasn’t even over yet. She was planning to warn her father, to refill her quiver and prepare herself for the travel to Cheydinhal. The Brotherhood had to been told about the fate of the journal, and the fate of that so-called Brother. She just hoped that she would reach the Sanctuary before anyone else, or else she would be in troubles.
Not that she cared, of course.
(It works for me, Kir’. Anf if you and Silv’ agree, I think that Dak will track down Ath et Dust on their trip to Morrowind. Out of curiosity, of course, ‘cause she wouldn’t care.
And if not…well, I suppose Dak’s participation to that RP will end when she’ll reach Cheydinhal. Whatever you prefer.)
Not that she cared, of course.
(It works for me, Kir’. Anf if you and Silv’ agree, I think that Dak will track down Ath et Dust on their trip to Morrowind. Out of curiosity, of course, ‘cause she wouldn’t care.
And if not…well, I suppose Dak’s participation to that RP will end when she’ll reach Cheydinhal. Whatever you prefer.)
What Ath would do, or not do, was hard to say in this type of situation. And he would completely ignore what Dak had to say since she did not seem to be a help to him right this moment. Ath scowled deeper but would not move to stop Dust from walking off, nor would he stop Dak from walking off. The bosmer would sit down and wait a bit until both of them were out of sight. As he waited he thought and had come up with a great plan.
Once the two of them were gone he stood up and he would then begin to track Dust's trail. Hey being a thief and being a wanderer helped sometimes and this was one of those times! Ath would track the woman's progress from the ruins down to her place in Cheydinhal. As he traveled he thought on his plan all the more and started to refine parts of it.
((am very sorry for the lateness of post, drill, and life got hectic again for a bit and iv been sick. And im game for whatever Dak xD))
Once the two of them were gone he stood up and he would then begin to track Dust's trail. Hey being a thief and being a wanderer helped sometimes and this was one of those times! Ath would track the woman's progress from the ruins down to her place in Cheydinhal. As he traveled he thought on his plan all the more and started to refine parts of it.
((am very sorry for the lateness of post, drill, and life got hectic again for a bit and iv been sick. And im game for whatever Dak xD))
(OOC: Whatever you wanna do, Mer, works fer me! And no problem, Wolf, life happens!)
Dust's trip was a nerve-wracking one, painfully slow. Her Detect Life spells were lacking, so she only had her eyes to rely on, tricked by her mind into thinking every crack of a twig and rustle of movement in the trees was Ath'vesu, following. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched constantly, only half-convinced she was just paranoid after all that had happened. But she made it home, at last, in the dead of night.
"Finally..." Dust dragged herself to her door, dragging a hand over her face and glancing with a sigh at her new boots. "I'll have to restock my potion supply, get another bag. Then..." She bit her lip. If Astarill were here, he might know how to make a ward - but then, she had no clue where he'd teleported away. I can keep myself safe, she comforted herself, ready to call to her hound that she was home before stopping with the door ajar before her.
"Huh..." Dust frowned, kneeling to pick up a folded letter, apparently shoved under her door. She smoothed it open, worrying her lip as she began to read what the letter had to say.
Dust's trip was a nerve-wracking one, painfully slow. Her Detect Life spells were lacking, so she only had her eyes to rely on, tricked by her mind into thinking every crack of a twig and rustle of movement in the trees was Ath'vesu, following. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched constantly, only half-convinced she was just paranoid after all that had happened. But she made it home, at last, in the dead of night.
"Finally..." Dust dragged herself to her door, dragging a hand over her face and glancing with a sigh at her new boots. "I'll have to restock my potion supply, get another bag. Then..." She bit her lip. If Astarill were here, he might know how to make a ward - but then, she had no clue where he'd teleported away. I can keep myself safe, she comforted herself, ready to call to her hound that she was home before stopping with the door ajar before her.
"Huh..." Dust frowned, kneeling to pick up a folded letter, apparently shoved under her door. She smoothed it open, worrying her lip as she began to read what the letter had to say.
The short letter was written in meticulously neat handwriting, its tone vaguely curt and gruff.
Dust,
I would apologize again for taking my leave of you so abruptly. I trust you understand my patience wore thin. I hope I did not inconvenience you more than is obvious.
I have solved the problem to a satisfactory degree and have returned to Morrowind, therefore you need not be concerned if you do not see me in Cheydinhal. I do not mean to presume you would be, but you seem of the kind to appreciate these exchanges. Hereby I hope to have met any social obligations I might have had.
Astarill
(((OOC: Don't worry about the rp's posting order. This is only a singular occurence until the story arrives at the point where I'm needed again. )))
Dust,
I would apologize again for taking my leave of you so abruptly. I trust you understand my patience wore thin. I hope I did not inconvenience you more than is obvious.
I have solved the problem to a satisfactory degree and have returned to Morrowind, therefore you need not be concerned if you do not see me in Cheydinhal. I do not mean to presume you would be, but you seem of the kind to appreciate these exchanges. Hereby I hope to have met any social obligations I might have had.
Astarill
(((OOC: Don't worry about the rp's posting order. This is only a singular occurence until the story arrives at the point where I'm needed again.
)))
Despite the fact she had to return to the Sanctuary, Dak enjoyed travelling to Cheydinhal. The Wilds had been her playground for the last years and she had the feeling she was able to travel with her closed eyes. She stayed away from the roads, though – it was easier to find preys, even if it slowed her pace.
A fat, fluffy hare eventually fell under her arrows the morning of her arrival at Cheydinhall. The guards warned her that poaching was forbidden when they noticed the game but Dak didn’t care. She brought the hare to Dervera Romalen, the owner of the Newlands Lodge and negotiated a room. There was no way she would sleep in the Sanctuary. Too much restless ghosts there, and Dak had enough ghosts on her own.
She took a seat at the window once she got the room and allowed herself to take a brief nap. She was going to need it.
A fat, fluffy hare eventually fell under her arrows the morning of her arrival at Cheydinhall. The guards warned her that poaching was forbidden when they noticed the game but Dak didn’t care. She brought the hare to Dervera Romalen, the owner of the Newlands Lodge and negotiated a room. There was no way she would sleep in the Sanctuary. Too much restless ghosts there, and Dak had enough ghosts on her own.
She took a seat at the window once she got the room and allowed herself to take a brief nap. She was going to need it.
Ath followed Dust back to her home. The traveling was long and he slept little the entire way but it would pay off in the end. When they reached the town that Dust lived in Ath's lips curled into a rather cruel smile at the fact he would soon have what he needed to track down Astaril.
Ath followed Dust to her house and he would un-sling his bow, pull out an arrow with the paralyizing poison, and then pull back on the arrow. Eyes narrowed and he would let the arrow loose with deadly precision. The arrow would take Dust in the leg, a painful wound and one that would hamper her escape attempts. It didn't take long for the poison to start working. She would feel her body starting to freeze up and whats more she would start to feel sleepy due to another additive in the mix.
Ath walked over and the last thing that Dust would see was Ath bending down and looking at the letter then at her.
"Morrowind it is then, and you will be the bait." He murmmered.
When Dust was fully passed out he would then work on getting a rather nice cart and horse and setting out to Morrowind. When Dust would wake up she would be tied up in the back, though she did not have a gag on and Ath would be sitting there making sure the horses went the right way.
((Hope that works, if need to change anything let me know))
Ath followed Dust to her house and he would un-sling his bow, pull out an arrow with the paralyizing poison, and then pull back on the arrow. Eyes narrowed and he would let the arrow loose with deadly precision. The arrow would take Dust in the leg, a painful wound and one that would hamper her escape attempts. It didn't take long for the poison to start working. She would feel her body starting to freeze up and whats more she would start to feel sleepy due to another additive in the mix.
Ath walked over and the last thing that Dust would see was Ath bending down and looking at the letter then at her.
"Morrowind it is then, and you will be the bait." He murmmered.
When Dust was fully passed out he would then work on getting a rather nice cart and horse and setting out to Morrowind. When Dust would wake up she would be tied up in the back, though she did not have a gag on and Ath would be sitting there making sure the horses went the right way.
((Hope that works, if need to change anything let me know))
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