Thuum.org

A community for the dragon language of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Thuum.org

A community for the dragon language of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Two Nords and a Breton walk into a bar...

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Players

Dzydzilelya
Frinmulaar
Liis
Ruvgein

Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Premise

Adventurers make their way to the Bannered Mare, Whiterun's most popular inn. They barely have time to socialize that they are interrupted by an inhuman roar. Upon arrival to the origin of the roar, they encounter Skyrim's fiercest predator: a dragon.

Setting

4th Era Skryrim, the same in which TESV: Skyrim takes place. The geography and the current political event of that Era are the same as the game.

Tone

Serious, violence is present, along with mild language and themes.

Character Rules

Nothing too overpowered, characters must fit the theme and be realistic.

Posting Rules

5 lines of text minimum. No maximum time in between posts. Everything going on in the RP is discussed and preapproved beforehand. All dialogue must be in Legacy Dovahzul, inner thoughts are at the player's discretion.


Endelle was sitting at a wooden table, tankard full of mead and a tasty venison chop. The Bannered Mare was clearly the best tavern in all of Skyrim. Never did she enjoyed staying at one place this much. This job at the Drunken Huntsman was starting to pay off, finally was Endelle able to pay rent, she could spend her days off at the tavern and speak with the locals.

They had interesting tales of mighty beasts that needed to be slain. Endelle was thrilled everytime. The rush of the hunt, following tracks, spotting the beast, notching an arrow, then with a whistling in the wind, take it out. Ah, days like these are always the best. Well, they are better than her bandit days, which were more lucrative, but insanely boring. In her youth, Endelle met Aela, another soon-to-be great hunter. Their bond grew stronger and stronger, until Endelle got bored and left for a life of raiding, thieving and murdering. They left eachother in good terms, only because Aela didn't knew why her childhood friend left.

With the wealth she made, Endelle gathered information about the mightiest of beasts: Dragons. As a teen, she was obsessed with the stories of these gigantic creatures that could eat a man in a single bite. In all her life, she wanted to see one and from her recent informations concerning Helgen, her dreams could become reality. After leaving the bandit group she was part of, she returned to Whiterun to follow the life she wanted : An honest life as a hunter. After a few months, the troubling news about Alduin and the Dovahkiin only fueled her desire to hunt one. She stopped daydreaming as she noticed two individuals enter the tavern.

The two of them didn't look to know eachtother, but they entered at the same time, so who knows. Endelle could see clearly what they looked like even in the dim light, her hunter eyes never failed her. She wasn't called Endelle Eagle-Eye for nothing. It's actually a name she earned in her bandit tribe because she managed to shoot a witness a hundred of feet away with a single shot, in the eye.

One of them was is a male with a huge braid of brown hair, looks tough, but his hands without a calluses tells her he wasn't really a big fighter nor worker. The other one reeked with magic, the slim pale female was clearly used to the arcanes. What Endelle forgot is that while looking at them, she was creepily staring, without blinking nor moving, a trick she learn to facilitate hunting. Let's hope they don't catch her looking at them.

by Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Premise

Adventurers make their way to the Bannered Mare, Whiterun's most popular inn. They barely have time to socialize that they are interrupted by an inhuman roar. Upon arrival to the origin of the roar, they encounter Skyrim's fiercest predator: a dragon.

Setting

4th Era Skryrim, the same in which TESV: Skyrim takes place. The geography and the current political event of that Era are the same as the game.

Tone

Serious, violence is present, along with mild language and themes.

Character Rules

Nothing too overpowered, characters must fit the theme and be realistic.

Posting Rules

5 lines of text minimum. No maximum time in between posts. Everything going on in the RP is discussed and preapproved beforehand. All dialogue must be in Legacy Dovahzul, inner thoughts are at the player's discretion.


Endelle was sitting at a wooden table, tankard full of mead and a tasty venison chop. The Bannered Mare was clearly the best tavern in all of Skyrim. Never did she enjoyed staying at one place this much. This job at the Drunken Huntsman was starting to pay off, finally was Endelle able to pay rent, she could spend her days off at the tavern and speak with the locals.

They had interesting tales of mighty beasts that needed to be slain. Endelle was thrilled everytime. The rush of the hunt, following tracks, spotting the beast, notching an arrow, then with a whistling in the wind, take it out. Ah, days like these are always the best. Well, they are better than her bandit days, which were more lucrative, but insanely boring. In her youth, Endelle met Aela, another soon-to-be great hunter. Their bond grew stronger and stronger, until Endelle got bored and left for a life of raiding, thieving and murdering. They left eachother in good terms, only because Aela didn't knew why her childhood friend left.

With the wealth she made, Endelle gathered information about the mightiest of beasts: Dragons. As a teen, she was obsessed with the stories of these gigantic creatures that could eat a man in a single bite. In all her life, she wanted to see one and from her recent informations concerning Helgen, her dreams could become reality. After leaving the bandit group she was part of, she returned to Whiterun to follow the life she wanted : An honest life as a hunter. After a few months, the troubling news about Alduin and the Dovahkiin only fueled her desire to hunt one. She stopped daydreaming as she noticed two individuals enter the tavern.

The two of them didn't look to know eachtother, but they entered at the same time, so who knows. Endelle could see clearly what they looked like even in the dim light, her hunter eyes never failed her. She wasn't called Endelle Eagle-Eye for nothing. It's actually a name she earned in her bandit tribe because she managed to shoot a witness a hundred of feet away with a single shot, in the eye.

One of them was is a male with a huge braid of brown hair, looks tough, but his hands without a calluses tells her he wasn't really a big fighter nor worker. The other one reeked with magic, the slim pale female was clearly used to the arcanes. What Endelle forgot is that while looking at them, she was creepily staring, without blinking nor moving, a trick she learn to facilitate hunting. Let's hope they don't catch her looking at them.


Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Makoa yawned as he entered the tavern, almost hitting the stranger beside him as he stretched his arms. He felt out of place as he noticed a few turn toward him. Shrugging it off Makoa rubbed his hands together and sat down at a table playing with his braid for a few moments, a barmaid came over and gave him some ale. Makoa shook his head, "No thanks, just water please." The tavern grew silent as the word 'water' was spoken, Makoa was self concious and afraid that they would laugh. He ducked his head down beneath his hands and then started to ignore them. He looked up and saw the unlit candle on his table, without asking if magic was allowed in the tavern, he placed a magelight at the tip of the candle and sat straight on his chair. After a few moments, the barmaid came back with a jug of water, Makoa dried it in an instant and placed a few gold coins on the table, after waiting there for a few moments, he looked around and saw a female staring at him, once he made eye contact, she looked away, Makoa shrunk into his seat. "What am I doing wrong?", he thought.

by Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Makoa yawned as he entered the tavern, almost hitting the stranger beside him as he stretched his arms. He felt out of place as he noticed a few turn toward him. Shrugging it off Makoa rubbed his hands together and sat down at a table playing with his braid for a few moments, a barmaid came over and gave him some ale. Makoa shook his head, "No thanks, just water please." The tavern grew silent as the word 'water' was spoken, Makoa was self concious and afraid that they would laugh. He ducked his head down beneath his hands and then started to ignore them. He looked up and saw the unlit candle on his table, without asking if magic was allowed in the tavern, he placed a magelight at the tip of the candle and sat straight on his chair. After a few moments, the barmaid came back with a jug of water, Makoa dried it in an instant and placed a few gold coins on the table, after waiting there for a few moments, he looked around and saw a female staring at him, once he made eye contact, she looked away, Makoa shrunk into his seat. "What am I doing wrong?", he thought.


Ruvgein
January 9, 2018

A young Breton called Arra strutted through the tavern door and made her way to the hearth.  She warmed her hands before the restless, crackling flame before approaching the counter for a cup of wine.  As she took the drink in her left hand to take a sip, she saw the man who had walked in right before her put a little blue light in an unlit candle. She hid a smile and finished her drink.  

The Breton flipped the bard a Septim and called for something to dance to as she dusted off the leather armor she wore over rich, deep purple garments. Her dancing was as lively and spirited as the music, but like the grim and glum creatures Nords were, not one of them joined her. When she was done she sat herself at the Nord with the blue light's table, she was about to say something to him when she noticed that a brawl had broken out.

by Ruvgein
January 9, 2018

A young Breton called Arra strutted through the tavern door and made her way to the hearth.  She warmed her hands before the restless, crackling flame before approaching the counter for a cup of wine.  As she took the drink in her left hand to take a sip, she saw the man who had walked in right before her put a little blue light in an unlit candle. She hid a smile and finished her drink.  

The Breton flipped the bard a Septim and called for something to dance to as she dusted off the leather armor she wore over rich, deep purple garments. Her dancing was as lively and spirited as the music, but like the grim and glum creatures Nords were, not one of them joined her. When she was done she sat herself at the Nord with the blue light's table, she was about to say something to him when she noticed that a brawl had broken out.


Liis
Administrator
January 9, 2018
Some clouds begin to shift in the distance. A frost dragon bursts from the disturbance, a few strokes of his giant wings casting him far. He glances over at the dimly-lit Whiterun under the setting sun. Should the mortals stand on even ground with him, he must figure a first appearance fit for alliance. He knows he will not be welcomed by mortals anywhere he goes.
Soaring a pointless path, he ponders on such an arrival as much as his dragon aspect would let him. Alas, his mind turns wayward, his draconic way of thinking never free of frustrated whim. His wings tilt on pitch - downward - hurling the body toward the earth. He can't help himself, the surge of the wind filling him with great senses - he bellows loudly. A roar of pure power quakes the sky. He abruptly lands on the Western Watchtower - now waiting as he heaves from adrenaline leaving him. Staring certain into the eyes of the town. Surely a response is to ensue, he thought.
by Liis
January 9, 2018
Some clouds begin to shift in the distance. A frost dragon bursts from the disturbance, a few strokes of his giant wings casting him far. He glances over at the dimly-lit Whiterun under the setting sun. Should the mortals stand on even ground with him, he must figure a first appearance fit for alliance. He knows he will not be welcomed by mortals anywhere he goes.

Soaring a pointless path, he ponders on such an arrival as much as his dragon aspect would let him. Alas, his mind turns wayward, his draconic way of thinking never free of frustrated whim. His wings tilt on pitch - downward - hurling the body toward the earth. He can't help himself, the surge of the wind filling him with great senses - he bellows loudly. A roar of pure power quakes the sky. He abruptly lands on the Western Watchtower - now waiting as he heaves from adrenaline leaving him. Staring certain into the eyes of the town. Surely a response is to ensue, he thought.

Frinmulaar
January 9, 2018

Kat rolled over on the green linen sheets once more, then realized trying to sleep was futile. She did her best to smooth out what had still been a coal-colored braid in the morning, stepped to the wardrobe and put on her faded leather armor. The thing was bought in Windhelm. It rattled.

The journey had taken two days and the best part of a third. She had stumbled into Whiterun with her pack full of meat, pelt and bone. With the gold in her pocket, there was no reason to linger, except for -

Yes. Kat reached in the sack, running her fingers over the sharp carvings. The tablet was heavier than even a stone brick had any right to be. It was a mystery how it had ended up in mud on the bank of the Darkwater. No one had been nearby, so she had decided to see if it could buy her some reserve for the way back. Why, it might even be magical. Kat chuckled at the thought, never having cast a single spell.

She took in the scene on the way down the flimsy wooden stairway. Patrons were shouting, singing and shout-singing throughout the place, with only a few sitting still. One woman wore hunter gears. Kat knew better than to bother her competitor in the drunken atmosphere. She chose a burly man who had a light spell in front of him.

"Drem yol lok, lahin. Laan hi tinvaak mal tiid?" Even after two full years, she had not mastered the tongue of this land. Her words were few and fumbling, but at least she seldom got into trouble for her Imperial accent nowadays.

The mage turned to her with a look of slight interest only to have his reply cut by a rumbling demonic sound from outside. Kat instinctively rushed to the window together with half the population of the tavern. The other half had their ears drowned in mead.

by Frinmulaar
January 9, 2018

Kat rolled over on the green linen sheets once more, then realized trying to sleep was futile. She did her best to smooth out what had still been a coal-colored braid in the morning, stepped to the wardrobe and put on her faded leather armor. The thing was bought in Windhelm. It rattled.

The journey had taken two days and the best part of a third. She had stumbled into Whiterun with her pack full of meat, pelt and bone. With the gold in her pocket, there was no reason to linger, except for -

Yes. Kat reached in the sack, running her fingers over the sharp carvings. The tablet was heavier than even a stone brick had any right to be. It was a mystery how it had ended up in mud on the bank of the Darkwater. No one had been nearby, so she had decided to see if it could buy her some reserve for the way back. Why, it might even be magical. Kat chuckled at the thought, never having cast a single spell.

She took in the scene on the way down the flimsy wooden stairway. Patrons were shouting, singing and shout-singing throughout the place, with only a few sitting still. One woman wore hunter gears. Kat knew better than to bother her competitor in the drunken atmosphere. She chose a burly man who had a light spell in front of him.

"Drem yol lok, lahin. Laan hi tinvaak mal tiid?" Even after two full years, she had not mastered the tongue of this land. Her words were few and fumbling, but at least she seldom got into trouble for her Imperial accent nowadays.

The mage turned to her with a look of slight interest only to have his reply cut by a rumbling demonic sound from outside. Kat instinctively rushed to the window together with half the population of the tavern. The other half had their ears drowned in mead.


Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Endelle looked away when she noticed that the Nord was looking at her. Embarrassed with her behavior, she stared at the table. The Breton started dancing after asking Mikael for some tunes. Good dancer, that's for sure, but clearly not used to the culture here. Maybe she arrived not long ago? Being done, the dancer sat down with the Nord. Endelle was confused, do they know eachother or not? She replaced a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

When she stood up after a nearby brawl menaced her food and ale, another one walked in. A female. Her black hair and green eyes clearly showing that she isn't from Skyrim. Foreigners always interest Endelle, especially when their backpacks are filled with pelts. The smell of fear on some of the animals' fur pointed out that the animals probably heard or saw her. Well, who is she to judge another hunter? Everyone has to begin somewhere.

The raven-haired woman approached the other two. What is this? A friendly meeting? Eagle-Eye examined the newcomer from head to toe. She looked in shape, fast and agile, just like a hunter should be. Maybe they could go hunt together one day. Upon further examination, Endelle noticed the lady had both breasts, compared to her. To perfect her hunting arts, Endelle had her right one removed, to handle the bow better. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made to be the best.

Out of nowhere, a tremendous sound shook the whole tavern. Endelle could even hear a faint roar in the distance. Could it be what she thinks it is? So the news from Helgen are closer to reality than what she thinks. The blonde haired woman ran to the door. 

''Dovah!''

The word gasped from her mouth. Today was clearly her lucky day! She looked around to find anyone sober enough to help her. The hunter, milk-drinker Nord and the dancer.

''Hi! Hiif zey nu!''

She grabbed both the Breton and the hunter with her hands. Kicking the door open, she dragged them both across Whiterun up to the city gates. Looking back, Endelle could see that the Nord followed them. Readying her armor, she addressed a couple of words to the others.

''Daar truk los dovah, ahrk mu fen krii nii.''

While the confusion was raging inside the walls, guards running and people hiding in their home, Endelle could hear a guard say ''Dovah! Zu'u koraav dovah !'' Another confirmation to Endelle's supposition. The adrenaline was rushing in her blood. She readied her gear and bow. She was growing impatient, the others were taking too long.

by Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Endelle looked away when she noticed that the Nord was looking at her. Embarrassed with her behavior, she stared at the table. The Breton started dancing after asking Mikael for some tunes. Good dancer, that's for sure, but clearly not used to the culture here. Maybe she arrived not long ago? Being done, the dancer sat down with the Nord. Endelle was confused, do they know eachother or not? She replaced a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

When she stood up after a nearby brawl menaced her food and ale, another one walked in. A female. Her black hair and green eyes clearly showing that she isn't from Skyrim. Foreigners always interest Endelle, especially when their backpacks are filled with pelts. The smell of fear on some of the animals' fur pointed out that the animals probably heard or saw her. Well, who is she to judge another hunter? Everyone has to begin somewhere.

The raven-haired woman approached the other two. What is this? A friendly meeting? Eagle-Eye examined the newcomer from head to toe. She looked in shape, fast and agile, just like a hunter should be. Maybe they could go hunt together one day. Upon further examination, Endelle noticed the lady had both breasts, compared to her. To perfect her hunting arts, Endelle had her right one removed, to handle the bow better. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made to be the best.

Out of nowhere, a tremendous sound shook the whole tavern. Endelle could even hear a faint roar in the distance. Could it be what she thinks it is? So the news from Helgen are closer to reality than what she thinks. The blonde haired woman ran to the door. 

''Dovah!''

The word gasped from her mouth. Today was clearly her lucky day! She looked around to find anyone sober enough to help her. The hunter, milk-drinker Nord and the dancer.

''Hi! Hiif zey nu!''

She grabbed both the Breton and the hunter with her hands. Kicking the door open, she dragged them both across Whiterun up to the city gates. Looking back, Endelle could see that the Nord followed them. Readying her armor, she addressed a couple of words to the others.

''Daar truk los dovah, ahrk mu fen krii nii.''

While the confusion was raging inside the walls, guards running and people hiding in their home, Endelle could hear a guard say ''Dovah! Zu'u koraav dovah !'' Another confirmation to Endelle's supposition. The adrenaline was rushing in her blood. She readied her gear and bow. She was growing impatient, the others were taking too long.


Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Makoa sprinted after the three figures, he hadn't seen a dragon before, but he heard stories. He reached into his mind and felt the presence of a spell, snatching it, he cast detect life, sure enough, a large silhouette sat in the distance, even for being a long ways away... it was a giant.

Usually, Makoa wouldn't run into a beasts' lair, but he noticed that the two hunters didn't have the strongest of armor, well... neither did he, but he did want to protect them, he liked being in groups, and helping the groups.

His braid swung back and forth as he followed the trio, he cast stone-flesh on all three, almost depleting his Magicka. "Zu'u dein hei, zahkein ahrk zu'u vahraan hei!" Makoa shouted as they neared the gates to the city. He looked at the group, he wondered why the two went to him in the bar, shrugging, he continued sprinting. Not even stopping to make a plan.

by Dzydzilelya
January 9, 2018

Makoa sprinted after the three figures, he hadn't seen a dragon before, but he heard stories. He reached into his mind and felt the presence of a spell, snatching it, he cast detect life, sure enough, a large silhouette sat in the distance, even for being a long ways away... it was a giant.

Usually, Makoa wouldn't run into a beasts' lair, but he noticed that the two hunters didn't have the strongest of armor, well... neither did he, but he did want to protect them, he liked being in groups, and helping the groups.

His braid swung back and forth as he followed the trio, he cast stone-flesh on all three, almost depleting his Magicka. "Zu'u dein hei, zahkein ahrk zu'u vahraan hei!" Makoa shouted as they neared the gates to the city. He looked at the group, he wondered why the two went to him in the bar, shrugging, he continued sprinting. Not even stopping to make a plan.


Ruvgein
January 9, 2018

The gates to Whiterun swung open as the guards shouted commands to one another.  The people were in a frenzy.

The Breton pulled her silver sword from its sheathe and sprinted ahead of the others as her right hand erupted in arcane fire. The two who looked like hunters, seeing the sword, let her do this.   And the the Mage, being already behind, did not seem to care. When the band reached the Western Watchtower, they saw a mighty dragon before them, where every weapon among them was pointed at the beast.

In High Rock, there were these little creatures called Dragonlings.  They could be spoken to if one bothered to learn their language.  She remembered how they were exotic pets in the counts of some nobles, causing quite the debate on exactly how smart the critters really were.

“Nid!  Nid zunne!  Mu tinvaak wah Maldovah ko hofkiini!”
 

But this was a full-sized Dragon before her.  She felt small and powerless this close to it, her previous courage fading like puffs of breath in the cold Skyrim air.

The blonde woman started to explain how a dragon was different than any little creature found in High Rock, but The Breton was already walking closer to the dragon. Relaxing her arms, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and then spoke.

" Hi lok wah daar golt, druv? Druv los hi het, Dovah?"

Her voice was small and weak compared to the deep respire of the dragon, and her breath quivered.  Whatever happened next, she was now in the middle of it.

by Ruvgein
January 9, 2018

The gates to Whiterun swung open as the guards shouted commands to one another.  The people were in a frenzy.

The Breton pulled her silver sword from its sheathe and sprinted ahead of the others as her right hand erupted in arcane fire. The two who looked like hunters, seeing the sword, let her do this.   And the the Mage, being already behind, did not seem to care. When the band reached the Western Watchtower, they saw a mighty dragon before them, where every weapon among them was pointed at the beast.

In High Rock, there were these little creatures called Dragonlings.  They could be spoken to if one bothered to learn their language.  She remembered how they were exotic pets in the counts of some nobles, causing quite the debate on exactly how smart the critters really were.

“Nid!  Nid zunne!  Mu tinvaak wah Maldovah ko hofkiini!”
 

But this was a full-sized Dragon before her.  She felt small and powerless this close to it, her previous courage fading like puffs of breath in the cold Skyrim air.

The blonde woman started to explain how a dragon was different than any little creature found in High Rock, but The Breton was already walking closer to the dragon. Relaxing her arms, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and then spoke.

" Hi lok wah daar golt, druv? Druv los hi het, Dovah?"

Her voice was small and weak compared to the deep respire of the dragon, and her breath quivered.  Whatever happened next, she was now in the middle of it.


Liis
Administrator
January 9, 2018
The dragon perched motionless as he scanned the crowd. Every guard with an arrow nocked and aimed ready. Their helms hide their certain fear. Trembling as they are clearly visible to the dragon - they do not weigh him. The voice of the female who spoke broke which instantly triggered a reaction within the dragon's reasoning.
"Weak", he thought, "all of them", as he turned his head to the left to scope the others. The claw mark which gashed the right side of his face bore audible gasps. The remnants of the eye nil. In awe they must be, for how could such a being of legend be gouged so?
Cursed be these doomed souls, ill-fated to die from their own bodies. The wind changes direction as suddenly as it has been once more - stirring thoughts of departure in its subservient beast. Is the trouble worth it? How well could these frailings possible aid? The tail flicks. The maw parts.
"Lahvraan kosil drem. Nol Skuldafn zu'u bo ol zu'u kos fustiraan. Zu'u bo voth ahsod kopiraana miri wah jorre. Zu'u los eldragaan tol hei ni unt kriina zey ahst diist koraav. Hei fon piraaka zos jah wey zok jorre. Paarthurnax bolaav zey mindah se jooruv kul, drus zu'u hind fah faani kosa mindokaan ol middovah."
His voice is unprecedented. Higher pitched than usual, each word is hissed eerily. A hiss for sure, as that of a snake. Sly and devious, the sound would strike terror more heavily in the abyss of night than day.
by Liis
January 9, 2018
The dragon perched motionless as he scanned the crowd. Every guard with an arrow nocked and aimed ready. Their helms hide their certain fear. Trembling as they are clearly visible to the dragon - they do not weigh him. The voice of the female who spoke broke which instantly triggered a reaction within the dragon's reasoning.

"Weak", he thought, "all of them", as he turned his head to the left to scope the others. The claw mark which gashed the right side of his face bore audible gasps. The remnants of the eye nil. In awe they must be, for how could such a being of legend be gouged so?

Cursed be these doomed souls, ill-fated to die from their own bodies. The wind changes direction as suddenly as it has been once more - stirring thoughts of departure in its subservient beast. Is the trouble worth it? How well could these frailings possible aid? The tail flicks. The maw parts.

"Lahvraan kosil drem. Nol Skuldafn zu'u bo ol zu'u kos fustiraan. Zu'u bo voth ahsod kopiraana miri wah jorre. Zu'u los eldragaan tol hei ni unt kriina zey ahst diist koraav. Hei fon piraaka zos jah wey zok jorre. Paarthurnax bolaav zey mindah se jooruv kul, drus zu'u hind fah faani kosa mindokaan ol middovah."

His voice is unprecedented. Higher pitched than usual, each word is hissed eerily. A hiss for sure, as that of a snake. Sly and devious, the sound would strike terror more heavily in the abyss of night than day.

Frinmulaar
January 10, 2018

Kat was exhausted. She recalled shouts and a grasp on her arm, and suddenly she had been flying through the city gates behind the older hunter. Both of the strangers from the table had come along. The woman in High Rock purple soon sprinted ahead, eagerly wielding a blade and a spell, while the magelight man put shields of some kind over the three without asking. Then they cleared the last length of wall, and into view came an old stone tower. Underneath a dragon. Dovah.

Kat did not really believe in pure evil, but dragons came close. They were ruthless overlords who enslaved whole continents by their strength. They could sit on mountaintops for years before swooping down to burn a city at its most vulnerable, and everything they did was for the purpose of destruction and torture. If they were ever alive, that was. Most did not think so. Those legends had begun eras ago, long before even her great-grandfather moved to Cyrodiil. But here the stuff of bedtime stories waited unmoving as the crowd descended upon the ruin. Kat took cover under a stone arch, found her bow, nocked, and drew.

There was no charge. The guards and townspeople hesitated for a heartbeat. Then Kat saw the spellsword step forward and speak to the dragon. Speak to it! Was she trying to get fried? Careful to keep her arrow ready, Kat took a glance at the nord. The blonde madwoman stood as frozen as the rest of them and seemed to be having an inner struggle now that she no longer led the initiative.

And then the thing responded. There was an unnerving metallic echo to its voice. Surely a creature of that size wasn't supposed to sound so... slithery? But it was definitely speaking, and Kat caught a word now and then.

"Wo 'daar thur nax'? Ahrk wo hi?" she snapped at her new companions. It felt less like saying words and more like shaping a blob of clay with her mouth. She wondered if she was drunk or dreaming.

by Frinmulaar
January 10, 2018

Kat was exhausted. She recalled shouts and a grasp on her arm, and suddenly she had been flying through the city gates behind the older hunter. Both of the strangers from the table had come along. The woman in High Rock purple soon sprinted ahead, eagerly wielding a blade and a spell, while the magelight man put shields of some kind over the three without asking. Then they cleared the last length of wall, and into view came an old stone tower. Underneath a dragon. Dovah.

Kat did not really believe in pure evil, but dragons came close. They were ruthless overlords who enslaved whole continents by their strength. They could sit on mountaintops for years before swooping down to burn a city at its most vulnerable, and everything they did was for the purpose of destruction and torture. If they were ever alive, that was. Most did not think so. Those legends had begun eras ago, long before even her great-grandfather moved to Cyrodiil. But here the stuff of bedtime stories waited unmoving as the crowd descended upon the ruin. Kat took cover under a stone arch, found her bow, nocked, and drew.

There was no charge. The guards and townspeople hesitated for a heartbeat. Then Kat saw the spellsword step forward and speak to the dragon. Speak to it! Was she trying to get fried? Careful to keep her arrow ready, Kat took a glance at the nord. The blonde madwoman stood as frozen as the rest of them and seemed to be having an inner struggle now that she no longer led the initiative.

And then the thing responded. There was an unnerving metallic echo to its voice. Surely a creature of that size wasn't supposed to sound so... slithery? But it was definitely speaking, and Kat caught a word now and then.

"Wo 'daar thur nax'? Ahrk wo hi?" she snapped at her new companions. It felt less like saying words and more like shaping a blob of clay with her mouth. She wondered if she was drunk or dreaming.


Dzydzilelya
January 10, 2018

Upon receiving the magical shield from the Nord mage, Endelle sneakily sneezed. The foul odor of magic was troubling her scent, Endelle's most valuable sense. Even if you can see a beast, it's smell is more revealing than its sight. You can smell a deer, know about how old it is, how many kids it has, it's emotions, etc. Endelle could hunt a bear eyes closed, but not without scent. The arcane energy was like a weird mix of vanilla and steel, but it was overflowing the hunter's nostrils. Apparently the male Nord wasn't into fighting, proving Endelle's initial thought: He's milk-drinker.

Now, thew dancer was pulling out a sword and... More magick ! Common folk will never how disgusting that thing smells. Following that, she started running blindly towards the beast. Never did Endelle saw someone foolish enough to run straight towards danger, well, there was that one time with Farkas, but that's a tale for another time. Following the group a little bit behind, Endelle started to see what the beast was made of.

A huge beast, made from scales white as snow and hard as stone. Its body looking like one big lizard, like a greater serpent. The talons on this thing could rip anyone here in a single strike. This was going to be a massacre if no one reacted. Endelle looked at the beast into his eyes. Well, eye. It appears the beast lost one, and a huge claw mark was traversing the eye cavity. What mighty beast could create such scar ? Endelle shivered at the thought.

The Nord hunter tried to explain to the breton kid how dangerous dragons can be, but apparently she decided that chit-chatting with it was better! What a fool! Eagle-Eye sneakily walked to the right flank of the beast, to what appeared to be his blindspot since he didn't react to movement. Endelle noticed the other hunter hid next to some shadowy rocks. Good initiative, maybe she isn't as bad as the Nord woman thought? The Imperial had her bow drawn and ready to shoot.

Now that beast was answering the Breton ? What kind of Sheogorath's realm is this ? In no possibility this beast was capable of speech. A disgusting one too. It sounded like a million snakes were whispering at the same time. And that thing was rambling! Paarthurnax? Wasn't it a general of Alduin, the World-Eater? This dragon knew about him? In no way could this scaly figure could be friendly. This was all a ruse to manipulate us! The Imperial and the Breton trusted that thing. Endelle really hopes they have a deathwish.

The Nord hunter had to think fast before this turned into a gut fest. Reaching for a vial in her satchel with the left hand, she grabbed an arrow with the other. That was the remaining flask of Bearkiller poison she had. She coated the tip of steel arrow generously of the visquous substance, until the vial was empty. Throwing the bottle away, she grabbed her bow and notched the arrow in. Swiftly drawing the bow, she stopped moving. Not a single thing could disturb her stillness. Focusing on the beast, she released the tension. The arrow was sent flying directly inside the dragon's eye cavity.

"Rok los noktaas ! Nid dovah los fahdonus !", Endelle screamed towards the two other women.

by Dzydzilelya
January 10, 2018

Upon receiving the magical shield from the Nord mage, Endelle sneakily sneezed. The foul odor of magic was troubling her scent, Endelle's most valuable sense. Even if you can see a beast, it's smell is more revealing than its sight. You can smell a deer, know about how old it is, how many kids it has, it's emotions, etc. Endelle could hunt a bear eyes closed, but not without scent. The arcane energy was like a weird mix of vanilla and steel, but it was overflowing the hunter's nostrils. Apparently the male Nord wasn't into fighting, proving Endelle's initial thought: He's milk-drinker.

Now, thew dancer was pulling out a sword and... More magick ! Common folk will never how disgusting that thing smells. Following that, she started running blindly towards the beast. Never did Endelle saw someone foolish enough to run straight towards danger, well, there was that one time with Farkas, but that's a tale for another time. Following the group a little bit behind, Endelle started to see what the beast was made of.

A huge beast, made from scales white as snow and hard as stone. Its body looking like one big lizard, like a greater serpent. The talons on this thing could rip anyone here in a single strike. This was going to be a massacre if no one reacted. Endelle looked at the beast into his eyes. Well, eye. It appears the beast lost one, and a huge claw mark was traversing the eye cavity. What mighty beast could create such scar ? Endelle shivered at the thought.

The Nord hunter tried to explain to the breton kid how dangerous dragons can be, but apparently she decided that chit-chatting with it was better! What a fool! Eagle-Eye sneakily walked to the right flank of the beast, to what appeared to be his blindspot since he didn't react to movement. Endelle noticed the other hunter hid next to some shadowy rocks. Good initiative, maybe she isn't as bad as the Nord woman thought? The Imperial had her bow drawn and ready to shoot.

Now that beast was answering the Breton ? What kind of Sheogorath's realm is this ? In no possibility this beast was capable of speech. A disgusting one too. It sounded like a million snakes were whispering at the same time. And that thing was rambling! Paarthurnax? Wasn't it a general of Alduin, the World-Eater? This dragon knew about him? In no way could this scaly figure could be friendly. This was all a ruse to manipulate us! The Imperial and the Breton trusted that thing. Endelle really hopes they have a deathwish.

The Nord hunter had to think fast before this turned into a gut fest. Reaching for a vial in her satchel with the left hand, she grabbed an arrow with the other. That was the remaining flask of Bearkiller poison she had. She coated the tip of steel arrow generously of the visquous substance, until the vial was empty. Throwing the bottle away, she grabbed her bow and notched the arrow in. Swiftly drawing the bow, she stopped moving. Not a single thing could disturb her stillness. Focusing on the beast, she released the tension. The arrow was sent flying directly inside the dragon's eye cavity.

"Rok los noktaas ! Nid dovah los fahdonus !", Endelle screamed towards the two other women.


Dzydzilelya
January 10, 2018

Makoa was frozen with fear, the giant beast stood before him, the spellsword attempting to converse with the beast and the hunters with their bows drawn. He stood, mouth gaping open, looking at the scaled murderer. The scales clinked, he could feel magicka rest inside of the dragon, as well as a power he wasn't sure about. He felt the stoneflesh on one of the hunters move. "Rek gaar!", he thought.

Makoa felt a spell grow in his body, sparks, he hadn't used the spell much, nor had he learned to aim. Without thinking, Makoa released his magicka in the form of lightning, it shot forth toward the dragon.

Makoa looked away.

The sparks twisted mid air and hit the arrow, luckily, it shoved the projectile out of the way of the scar, but it still bounced off the dragon's scales. Instinctively, he drew the shield from the breton's body and returned it to magicka, knowing that the dragon would retaliate to such an attack, he grasped for another spell, he couldn't find one, not one he knew, reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a scroll, blasting it at the dragon, a large rune... ice colored lay upon the tower, Makoa's hands were filled with energy, holding the rune in place. He knew it would blow if he let it, so he continued to use the rest of his magicka to keep it from activating.

"Dovah! Dovah, zu'u nii mindok eylok dov, nuz zu'u mindok nii pah los vokul" He shouted at the top of his lungs, after looking around, he realized how cowardly the people around thought he looked... and he knew they were right.

by Dzydzilelya
January 10, 2018

Makoa was frozen with fear, the giant beast stood before him, the spellsword attempting to converse with the beast and the hunters with their bows drawn. He stood, mouth gaping open, looking at the scaled murderer. The scales clinked, he could feel magicka rest inside of the dragon, as well as a power he wasn't sure about. He felt the stoneflesh on one of the hunters move. "Rek gaar!", he thought.

Makoa felt a spell grow in his body, sparks, he hadn't used the spell much, nor had he learned to aim. Without thinking, Makoa released his magicka in the form of lightning, it shot forth toward the dragon.

Makoa looked away.

The sparks twisted mid air and hit the arrow, luckily, it shoved the projectile out of the way of the scar, but it still bounced off the dragon's scales. Instinctively, he drew the shield from the breton's body and returned it to magicka, knowing that the dragon would retaliate to such an attack, he grasped for another spell, he couldn't find one, not one he knew, reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a scroll, blasting it at the dragon, a large rune... ice colored lay upon the tower, Makoa's hands were filled with energy, holding the rune in place. He knew it would blow if he let it, so he continued to use the rest of his magicka to keep it from activating.

"Dovah! Dovah, zu'u nii mindok eylok dov, nuz zu'u mindok nii pah los vokul" He shouted at the top of his lungs, after looking around, he realized how cowardly the people around thought he looked... and he knew they were right.


Ruvgein
January 10, 2018

An arrow whized past her head before being petrified by arcane lightning.  The Blonde woman and the Mage.  She felt the Mage's spell release from her, and looking back, saw the frightened faces all around her.

Not that she wasn't scared.  No, she was terrified, and her teeth chattered to show it.  Nust mindol zu'u mey, she thought.  The Dragon hasn't done a thing to harm them, yet they want it dead. 

She never understood the people of Skyrim, with their sullen dispositions and sulky moods. Why couldn't they be sweeter?  Why couldn't they be more like home?  Breton Children using paltry magic in the streets, Redguard peddlers hawking their wares with mirth, tropes of actors and caravans of showmen in the city square.  Back home they teach the young ones how to reason with your foes.  If the Nords were in High Rock they would kill every last Centaur, Harpy and Nymph in the entire kingdom.  Just like they wanted to kill this Dragon without reason.

Arra got an idea.  The likelyhood of it actually working seemed low, but she had to try it to keep everyone alive.  Her right hand lit up in flames as she focused on something big. She focused harder, feeling the power flow through her. And then, she was ready.

The Breton in High Rock purple spun in an arc as fire blazed from her hand.  She put a wall of fire and smoke between herself and the others, not letting them the dragon.  For a moment she  worried that the flames got too close to the Imperial, but the woman didn't seem hurt.  Somewhere in the spin, she felt her Amulet slip from her neck, but there was no time to get it now.

"Nid nos Dovah!”  Yelled the Breton.  “Rul nii het wah krif, mu kos dilon nu!”

She stood her ground, not flinching a muscle, locking her eyes with the Dragon's one eye.  Taking a breath to recover from the sharp magicka loss, she stood proudly as she awaited the mighty beast's reaction. As proudly as one covered ash and soot could stand, anyway.

by Ruvgein
January 10, 2018

An arrow whized past her head before being petrified by arcane lightning.  The Blonde woman and the Mage.  She felt the Mage's spell release from her, and looking back, saw the frightened faces all around her.

Not that she wasn't scared.  No, she was terrified, and her teeth chattered to show it.  Nust mindol zu'u mey, she thought.  The Dragon hasn't done a thing to harm them, yet they want it dead. 

She never understood the people of Skyrim, with their sullen dispositions and sulky moods. Why couldn't they be sweeter?  Why couldn't they be more like home?  Breton Children using paltry magic in the streets, Redguard peddlers hawking their wares with mirth, tropes of actors and caravans of showmen in the city square.  Back home they teach the young ones how to reason with your foes.  If the Nords were in High Rock they would kill every last Centaur, Harpy and Nymph in the entire kingdom.  Just like they wanted to kill this Dragon without reason.

Arra got an idea.  The likelyhood of it actually working seemed low, but she had to try it to keep everyone alive.  Her right hand lit up in flames as she focused on something big. She focused harder, feeling the power flow through her. And then, she was ready.

The Breton in High Rock purple spun in an arc as fire blazed from her hand.  She put a wall of fire and smoke between herself and the others, not letting them the dragon.  For a moment she  worried that the flames got too close to the Imperial, but the woman didn't seem hurt.  Somewhere in the spin, she felt her Amulet slip from her neck, but there was no time to get it now.

"Nid nos Dovah!”  Yelled the Breton.  “Rul nii het wah krif, mu kos dilon nu!”

She stood her ground, not flinching a muscle, locking her eyes with the Dragon's one eye.  Taking a breath to recover from the sharp magicka loss, she stood proudly as she awaited the mighty beast's reaction. As proudly as one covered ash and soot could stand, anyway.


Liis
Administrator
January 10, 2018
The female spoke words of assurance to her allies - turning her head left. Too left, he thought. He could hear it - a sliding of wood on itself. An arrow was freed. A flash of heat licks his face as the arrow taps his plates near the neck. His head initially bobbed to the left slightly upon sight of the magic. The head jerks to the right, releasing a howl of dominance. Fire is summoned to the field as he snaps his focus to the entire crowd and the wall of fire obscuring them. He raises his head with intent - breathing in. His wings unfurl and glance against the wind. His body is easily lifted off the spot, as the sky is his ocean.
One beat. One swing of his great wings. The air carrying him sent forth with command toward the crowd. The fire is instantly snuffed. Every mortal in sight either on their back or front - weapons scattered about. His return to the perch shook all around.
"Meyye. Hei yah krif alun. Alok ahrk koraav zey; zu'u ni los paaleil. Hei fund vahzah hind krifa voth suleyki milaar jur nii."
His focus coursing adrenaline through him. Every aspect around him is noticed. Every inch of movement a possible threat.
by Liis
January 10, 2018
The female spoke words of assurance to her allies - turning her head left. Too left, he thought. He could hear it - a sliding of wood on itself. An arrow was freed. A flash of heat licks his face as the arrow taps his plates near the neck. His head initially bobbed to the left slightly upon sight of the magic. The head jerks to the right, releasing a howl of dominance. Fire is summoned to the field as he snaps his focus to the entire crowd and the wall of fire obscuring them. He raises his head with intent - breathing in. His wings unfurl and glance against the wind. His body is easily lifted off the spot, as the sky is his ocean.

One beat. One swing of his great wings. The air carrying him sent forth with command toward the crowd. The fire is instantly snuffed. Every mortal in sight either on their back or front - weapons scattered about. His return to the perch shook all around.

"Meyye. Hei yah krif alun. Alok ahrk koraav zey; zu'u ni los paaleil. Hei fund vahzah hind krifa voth suleyki milaar jur nii."

His focus coursing adrenaline through him. Every aspect around him is noticed. Every inch of movement a possible threat.

Frinmulaar
January 10, 2018

The purple girl was gesturing. A scorching wall erupted out of the field and the world went dull white for a staggered moment. Kat had to dive around the rock to live on with a burnt eyebrow. A breath later the glory-crazed nord and the cautious mage hit the dragon at the same time, driving the monster to take flight. Everyone present was simultaneously contributing to an average tavern night's worth of shouts and screams. Kat noted the crowd had started to thin around the edges.

As she grabbed her weapon again, habit made her follow the winged lizard. Leading by two body lengths - like a deer at that distance - came naturally, but the arrow whizzed into the dusk to pierce a newly lit star nowhere near the gray serpent. She was reaching for another when the dragon swept above, slamming into the tower again with its man-sized talons. And rambled on. Something about not being enemies.

Even in this twisted world, Kat knew one thing about fairytale dragons. They could be bloodthirsty and next to invincible, but they were never cunning. No dragon like that would take an attack and come back to calm down the attacker. This one had to be broken in some major way.

She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her cover. Better a martyr than a killer. Maybe this dragon could even explain a few things, something her battle companions had lately been less than reliable at.

"Drem pah, drem! Dovahhe nis lo!"

She threw her bow and quiver on the grass in a ceremoniously slow motion. That wasn't quite enough, so she laid her other possessions beside them: backpack, helmet, dagger, and the stone tablet. There was nothing to do but wait, palms stretched out, gaze darting between the others and the looming mass of the dragon. Its single eye was furiously twitching around. Or his?

by Frinmulaar
January 10, 2018

The purple girl was gesturing. A scorching wall erupted out of the field and the world went dull white for a staggered moment. Kat had to dive around the rock to live on with a burnt eyebrow. A breath later the glory-crazed nord and the cautious mage hit the dragon at the same time, driving the monster to take flight. Everyone present was simultaneously contributing to an average tavern night's worth of shouts and screams. Kat noted the crowd had started to thin around the edges.

As she grabbed her weapon again, habit made her follow the winged lizard. Leading by two body lengths - like a deer at that distance - came naturally, but the arrow whizzed into the dusk to pierce a newly lit star nowhere near the gray serpent. She was reaching for another when the dragon swept above, slamming into the tower again with its man-sized talons. And rambled on. Something about not being enemies.

Even in this twisted world, Kat knew one thing about fairytale dragons. They could be bloodthirsty and next to invincible, but they were never cunning. No dragon like that would take an attack and come back to calm down the attacker. This one had to be broken in some major way.

She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her cover. Better a martyr than a killer. Maybe this dragon could even explain a few things, something her battle companions had lately been less than reliable at.

"Drem pah, drem! Dovahhe nis lo!"

She threw her bow and quiver on the grass in a ceremoniously slow motion. That wasn't quite enough, so she laid her other possessions beside them: backpack, helmet, dagger, and the stone tablet. There was nothing to do but wait, palms stretched out, gaze darting between the others and the looming mass of the dragon. Its single eye was furiously twitching around. Or his?

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