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>>850521
[Forgot trip]

Salt, electricity and thunderous applause. Frantic energies run throughout the currents of the air, and all that can be smelled is searing flesh, borne of starlight turned against its masters.
Illustrious walls of white purity are scorched; frantically, denizens make their way above and below, praying to Meridia that neither the moonlight nor the subterranean depths yield more death.

You wake, your brow dampened by sweat and your body heaving. A temporal blindness surprises your optic senses, until your eyes adjust to the dim light emanating from the Valar Stone positioned above your chamber's entrance.
The room you inhabit looks as dull and as typical as always. Morose, carved stone walls face you on all sides - what was once a magnificent display of architecture, has been rendered cold and lifeless by a hundred years of
lower-class inhabitants, too careless to preserve the relics of your civilisation. If you were not lower-born yourself, you would consider purging them from Miscarcand once and for all.

"Niyalata" - the echo of a calling voice echoes throughout the halls. Recognising it as your cousin, Melebor, you can safely imagine that he's looking for you.

>A. Get up out of bed and greet your cousin at the door
>B. Try to go back to sleep
>C. Call out that no one is home

test

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>850570

>>850562
>A. Get up out of bed and greet your cousin at the door

test

dice+1d100

>C. Call out that no one is home

>>850562
>C. Call out that no one is home

>A. Get up out of bed and greet your cousin at the door

>>850658
>>850667
>>850680
>>850683

"No one's home" - your voice is harsh, and croaking.

"Come on, Niyalata - just let me in"

Rising from the stone slab you've come to know as your "bed", you make your way over to the doorway. Pushing sternly on the marble mechanism to the right of the intricately designed door, it opens - sliding downward into the floor, as your cousin, Melebor, stands before you.

"Where were you last night? We captured some degenerate menfolk from up north, and took them below to Morimath, where the Artisan forces sliced off their limbs with razor blades in front of the crowd. It was ecstatic. The palpable energy....one could barely hear one's own thoughts. Really, though, what were you doing?"

>A. Studying magic in your room
>B. Practising your sword-hand
>C. "Writing a treatise on...listen, never mind. What do you want?"

>>850713
>C. "Writing a treatise on...listen, never mind. What do you want?"

>B. Practising your sword-hand

>>850713
>C. "Writing a treatise on...listen, never mind. What do you want?"

>>850713
>C. "Writing a treatise on...listen, never mind. What do you want?"

>C. "Writing a treatise on... listen, never mind. What do you want?"

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>>850730
"I was writing my treatise on...listen, never mind. What do you want, Melebor? Surely you can see that I have more appropriate things to attend to right now, such as sleep."

Your cousin's face flashes with the hint of a smile, but his face returns to its typically dull expression soon after. He steps into your chamber, pretending to admire the few tapestries and various oddities which adorn the walls.

He turns back to you.
"Aynriel the Feather-Burned is looking for soldiers to raid in North-Eastern heartlands, above the Temple of The Ancestors, to take back our cities there from the Nordic peasants of Skyrim. I signed both of us up."

Just several months ago, the Nords had expanded further out of Skyrim and into the Heartlands. There had been attempts to push them back, but the religious divide between Daedra and Non-Daedra worshipping Ayleid had proved too large of a rift to close in time to save cities like Anga.

"Why did you sign me up without my permission?", you ask, vexed.

"Because you're in no position to refuse work, and there's good coin to be made. Look at where you live, Niyalata. This place is a mess."

>A. You'll think about it. "Leave me be".
>B. How much are we talking?
>C. You want no part in this.

>>850814
>A. You'll think about it. "Leave me be".

>>850814
>A. You'll think about it. "Leave me be".

>>850814
>B. How much are we talking?

>A. You'll think about it. "Leave me be".

[I'm going to reduce the 10 minute voting period to 5 minutes, so long as there's three or more votes within that time]

>>850814
>>B. How much are we talking?

>>850822
>>850823
>>850825
>>850834

"I'll think about it, Melebor. For now, however, leave me be."

Your cousin scoffs and walks towards the door. Before losing sight of him as he turns towards the hallway, you hear him say that the party leaves in two days and that he expects you to be there.

Now that that nuisance is gone, you can reflect on your dream (or rather, nightmare) which he so rudely interrupted. In all your 30 years of life, you have never had anything akin to that pervade your mind. The absolute chronicle of devastating ruin plays back in your head, over and over, until at last, you take up your pen, write it in your journal (along with the discussion with Melebor) and sit the tattered journal on your desk.

The proposition of gold was enticing, but you're unsure as to how you would handle being away from home for so long, with so little to eat, fighting day in and day out for heretics who broke away from the traditional Daedric pantheon.

A quote from your father comes to mind. Something that he said as he ushered in Nedic slaves he had taken as tribute to Meridia some months before his departure to Valenwood.

"If free people are not willing to defend their rights, they are not deserving of them."

Perhaps not the most profound thing to be said on the subject, but the message stuck.

Your stomach rumbling, you think it's time to get some food.

>A. Go buy something to eat in the market

>B. Take your bow and arrow, go hunt for something to eat on the surface

Feel free to ask about your possessions, past, etc, and I'll do my best to answer them.

>B. Take your bow and arrow, go hunt for something to eat on the surface

>>850873
>B. Take your bow and arrow, go hunt for something to eat on the surface

>>850873
>B. Take your bow and arrow, go hunt for something to eat on the surface

>>850880
>B. Take your bow and arrow, go hunt for something to eat on the surface

Better brush up on our skill with a bow. Also, what is our equipment? Other than the clothes on our back and the bow and arrow. Anything of interest in our rooms?

>>850905
aye, and is Niyalata male or female?

>>850905
You've got your journal, a glass dagger, and a silver necklace on you right now.

Your room is pretty bare, but there's a few things of interest. You have a large chest full of clothes (mostly full-body robes, like you're wearing now), a weak Varla Stone and lots of parchment and ink.

Other possessions that you have include 5 coins, and your borrow and arrow - which you're actually just borrowing from your cousin. You have 14 arrows in a quiver.

>>850920
Male.

(Writan at the moment)

>>850886
>>850889
>>850895
>>850905
Taking the bow made of elven steel from behind your bedpost, and the arrows lying around, you head out to the surface. On your way, you witness the grand, intoxicating architecture of your fellow Ayleids. Reaching halls extend vertically and horizontally - lit up in brilliant incandescence, as primordial light (the purest, and most crucial element to your civilisation) seeps out of Valar and Welkynd Stones. The harnessed energy gives off a dream-like atmosphere, as you wander in a daze through the city halls. Your quarter is close to the surface, and soon, after passing by perhaps three dozen other people and a small band of warriors decorated in feathers, you reach the stairs ascending to the mortal world.

After a minute long climb, you reach the top, and exit Miscarcand.

You stand in the south-west of Cyrod. A three day ride to the south lies the Abecean Sea and Gold Coast. A week's ride to the North-East, The Temple of The Ancestor, or 'White Gold' as it has become colloquially called recently.

The sun shines brightly, and you feel Magnus' warmth touch your golden skin. The area surrounding the outside layer of Miscarcand is verdant, and full of life. Mamoth jungle tree branches sway in the light breeze, exotic birds and animals call out amidst them, and the dense foliage around your feet crunches as you walk.

You know of several good hunting places.

>A. An opening to the east, where many animals come to graze on light grass and drink water
>B. A cave to the west, where grazing beasts have been sighted
>C. A rabbit burrow to the south

>>850980
>B. A cave to the west, where grazing beasts have been sighted

>>850980
>A. An opening to the east, where many animals come to graze on light grass and drink water

>>850991
>>851006
Deadlock.

>>851018
Should we roll then?

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>851018
>>A. An opening to the east, where many animals come to graze on light grass and drink water

Also focus on the ancient art of stealth archery.

What spells do we know btw?

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>851023
I'll roll. If above 50, you go to the cave. If it's below, you go to the opening.

What happened to (not)Orc pride quest?

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>851026

Let's go bag some game

>>851026
>>851025
Looks like you're going to the opening no matter what.

You know a variation of magelight called 'Alata', Wild Flay Spirit (drain magicka) and Stormhand (shock spell).

>>851006
>>851025

You walk east for roughly twenty minutes, your stomach rumbling the whole time.

As you walk, you notice become less densely together, and soon, an opening appears before you. Sneaking up to the clearing with your bow in hand, you observe two deer resting by a shallow pool of water. Not natives to Cyrod, and having migrated south due to the Nords expanding their kingdom, it took some time before you and your fellow Ayleid refine the art of cooking venison.

The deer are quiet, resting their eyes as they bend down and lap up the cool water with their tongues.

>A. Draw an arrow and fire at one of the deer
>B. Something else (write in)

>>851053
notice the trees become less dense*

>>851053
>A. Draw an arrow and fire at one of the deer

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>851053
>B. Something else (write in)

>Look for a better position for our shot while remaining hidden.

>>851053
>B. Something else (write in)
Regale the animated venison with the latest draft of your treatise. It will likely be so fixated on your brilliance that it forgets to breathe.

But really
>A. Just shoot the thing already

>>851053
>>851067

You pull an arrow from your quiver, raise your bow, and pull back on the string. Holding it in place for a few seconds to aim correctly, you let loose and watch as the arrow flies directly towards its target, hitting and cementing itself deep within the shoulderjoint of its left foreleg. You watch as the other deer spooks and runs away, leaving its companion to fail to stand. The deer writhes around in the grass, unable to move correctly, falling down with each attempt to get up.

As you move towards the deer to finish it off, you yourself find your right leg caught. Pulling hard, presuming it to be caught on a branch or piece of flora yields nothing. As you turn behind you, you notice that a monster-sized snake has wrapped itself around your leg, and is now raising its face to yours. It pulls back, ready to strike.

>A. Quickly evade, pull your dagger from its sheathe and strike the creature in the head (80)
>B. Grab hold of the creature's skull with your hands as it comes down upon you (50)
C. Move your body out of the way to evade (40)

[Remember not to roll yet. When the chosen option is confirmed, I'll post "ROLL" and the best out of three will be chosen.

>>851082
>B. Grab hold of the creature's skull with your hands as it comes down upon you (50)
Not to backseat QM, but one roll is the same as any other. If we all roll, and the first three rolls are taken regardless of choice, this'll go a bit faster.

>>851082
>B. Grab hold of the creature's skull with your hands as it comes down upon you (50)
And then Stormhand. Guess we need to work on our perception.

>>851092
>>851095
Alright, roll.

I don't really mind backseat QM'ing. This is my first quest, so if you have any input, feel free.

>>851092
I think I see what you mean. We can try that if you want.

I'm just doing it the way Som runs Dragonball Quest

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>851082
>B. Grab hold of the creature's skull with your hands as it comes down upon you (50)

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>851105
Let's just keep the rolls in the votes and use the first 3 to determine results afte a majority choice has been made.

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>>851123
As the snake's head flies towards your face, you raise your arms up and grab it between your hands. Struggling to maintain balance with the creature wrapped around your leg, and now putting its weight down upon you is difficult, but you manage. With the creature firmly in your grasp, and now hissing at you, you summon forth your Stormhand spell, releasing a current of powerful electricity from both hands. The creature feels the preliminary surge of power, and attempts to pull away, but you fix your hold on it and the complete spell immediately pushes through its body, searing it and sending small flicks of lightning off of the now mangled body, which resides at your feet. Before going completely stiff, the snake loosens its grasp on your foot. It is dead, and you are free.

Looking towards the shallow pool of water, you notice that the deer has tried limping away - making it some feet - before collapsing on the ground again.
Your Ayleid blood boils at the sight, and you feel a pleasure wash over you. You were never as enamoured by torture as the rest of your kin, but the idea of 'playing' with the helpless creature crosses your mind.

>A. Approach the deer and slit its throat with your dagger
>B. Shock the deer slowly with Stormhand, cutting your magicka pool in half
>C. Play with the deer, torturing it with your knife

>>851144
>D. Beat it to death with the snake.

>>851155
I really hope someone else votes.

>>851144
>A. Approach the deer and slit its throat with your dagger

No point in making it suffer

>>851144
>E. Make sweet, sweet love to the deer's deerhole.

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>>851155
>>851167

However humorous it may have been, you realise that you would be unable to beat the deer to death with the snake, let alone wield a corpse as a weapon.

Instead, you approach the whimpering animal, staring into the brown hue of its, as you yourself are reflected in them. Drawing your dagger from its sheathe, you grab hold of the scruff of the deer's neck and pull it back. Unable to resist, it submits to your strength. You press the blade against its neck and pull, slicing it open. Blood escapes the wound at a frightening pace.

With the sun at its height, you make your way back to Miscarcand, the deer wrapped around your shoulders.
Entering the upper level shared kitchen, you drop the deer on a stone bench.

All around you, people mingle and cook - butchering the carcasses of animals while shaking hands with friends, stewing meats and vegetables while talking of last night's mass slaughter, and others forcing Nedic slaves to cook for them. It is a common sight.

Whilst cutting the meat of the deer up with your dagger, you are approached by a man whom you recognise to be a soldier who helped annex the free city-state of Silorn some five years ago. He was regaled as a hero for some time after the victory, but has since sunken into obscurity and out of the limelight, like so many in your culture.

"Niyalata, isn't it? I was told by Aynriel Feather-Burned that you had enlisted to help us drive back Nord forces out of the Heartland. I never thought you'd do something like that, considering you spend most of your time locked up in your room studying."

The man's eyes and words are kind, but sullen, and laced with an element of tragedy. You can see in his expression that your supposed willingness to fight has, however, cheered him a little.

"Well, my cousin, Melebor, signed me up actually. I'm still undecided about campaigning."

Your words wipe whatever ounce of happiness you had unveiled from him.

"Niyalata, listen. The Kings don't like to admit this, but we're losing. In just a few short years, Skyrim had expanded far beyond its natural territory. We're sitting ducks here. Every day they grow stronger, while we grow weaker, and weaker. The decadence of our culture can't sustain any kind of military resistance. We have to take the fight right to them."

You have never heard anyone express a lamentation on the "decadence" of your culture, despite yourself. Perhaps this man speaks the truth.

He continues: "If you travel north-east with us for just a month or two, I'm sure whatever you can contribute will be of immense help. Please?"

The man extends his hand, hoping to strike some kind of an oath with you.

>A. Receive his hand, and shake it, agreeing to join up.
>B. Brush his hand away, cruelly
>C. Remain undecided about joining the campaign

>>851175
>A. Receive his hand, and shake it, agreeing to join up.

It's clear we're more of the scholar type but it's foolish to wait for the menfolk to arrive at our door step to finally take action. The best defense is a good offense.

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>>851182
You receive the man's hand, shaking it, and agreeing to join up. However hesitant your voice, you feel that this was the appropriate choice given the circumstances.

"Thank you, Niyalata. Meet us outside the city at 6AM in two day's time. Don't worry about weapons, armor, coin or food - Aynriel is funding all of that himself. We'll east first, towards lake Rumare, then take a ship bypassing Abagarlas, arriving soon after at Culotte. The King of Culotte, Wayniel, has garrisoned all of his troops there and is currently awaiting the Nordic army's approach. One of the Ten Ancestors resides there - we can't let it fall."

Patting you on the back, the man begins to walk away.
You ask his name. To which, he replies "Silcatar".
-------------------------------
That's probably all for tonight, unless there's more interest. I'll check back later, and tomorrow - hoping to run then.

For now, feel free to follow me on twitter: I'll release tweets about an hour prior to running.

https://twitter.com/LorkhanDOOMDRUM

I wasnt able to be around for all of it but i hope you do it again

>sliced off their limbs with razor blades in front of the crowd. It was ecstatic. The palpable energy...
You know what would be a better torment? Downing a jug of milk in front of them and then raping their sons.

>>851226
Ayleid torture is mostly blood related.

>>851226
No.
You force them to drown a jug of milk while they rape their own sons or get raped by them after being drugged up and you raping their females in front of them.


>>851192
Welp if all else fails we can found the Dirreni and conquer High Rock instead.

>>851241
Now there's an idea.

>>851241
You're about a hundred years too early for the Direnni, but go ahead.

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We're back.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hCEFcO79MI

You are dreaming again. In your dream, you walk the halls of Miscarcand. There is ruin everywhere: corroded walls, Valar Stones once bright and luminescent turned a dim grey, incorporeal shrouds of people you once knew walk the ancient testimonies of the superiority of your civilisation. A musk fills the air, and a stolid dampness surrounds the atmosphere - no one has stepped foot in this place for a hundred years.

Suddenly, you are before the great Welkynd Stone. The immense pinnacle of your culture's magic, formed and cut through ancient Ayleid methods of refining pure magicka light. It floats in place above a mechanism of iron - jagged, and resembling an enlarged arrow-head, it calls out to you with a fog-like magical energy.

The Stone vanishes, and you feel yourself being sucked back into the living world, away from this dream. The reality around you distorts, flicking between a ruined Miscarcand and a lively one. Inconsistent shapes dot your perception, and there is a powerful pull to take you away.

>A. Fight it; resist and push onward (70)
>B. Let the call of the living rouse you from your slumber

[We'll just roll straight off the bat for the choice now - the first three rolls will determine success]

>>853374
>B. Let the call of the living rouse you from your slumber

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>853374
>A. Fight it; resist and push onward (70)

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>853374
>A. Fight it; resist and push onward (70)

I want that juicy dream wisdom!

well shit

You attempt to stay in the dream, but just being conscious of the fact makes the ordeal all the more harder. You struggle with thoughts of consciousness and lucidity, and the crushing weight of reality is brought down upon you as you awake in your bed, in your chambers, sweating once again.

When you rise, your legs stumble beneath you. You manage to support yourself and stay upright, but you feel weak and frail. The dreams of the last two nights have taken a serious toll on you physically, and you're unsure as to whether you will be able to get out of bed tomorrow.

Today is the day. Two days ago, you went hunting in the wilderness outside Miscarcand and hunted for food, only to be attacked by a giant snake. Today, you're joining up with a band of mercenary warriors to reclaim the city Cylotte, just east of the White Gold. Your food, weapons and armor will be provided for you, but you'll be expected to engage in open warfare against Nord enemies. With any luck, you'll be stuck in the rear flanks and tasked with firing off spells or even land a job as a messenger. You aren't confident about your skills in armed combat.

You glance at the aetherial sundial sitting above your bed, which you procured yesterday at a stall in the market. It's small enough to fit into a pouch in your robes, and tells the time via a connection to Magnus' aetherial presence in the cosmology - the further he is from Nirn, the later it gets.

You have 40 minutes before you're expected to be outside Miscarcand and retrieving your gear/setting off for the expedition.

>A. Eat breakfast, grab your personal belongings in a knapsack and head straight up to the surface (20 minutes)
>B. Eat breakfast, write in your journal about your dream, grab your belongings and head up (35 minutes)
>C. Decide to break your oath with Silcatar, and not join the expedition

>>853532
>B. Eat breakfast, write in your journal about your dream, grab your belongings and head up (35 minutes)

>>853532
>A. Eat breakfast, grab your personal belongings in a knapsack and head straight up to the surface (20 minutes)

>B. Eat breakfast, write in your journal about your dream, grab your belongings and head up (35 minutes)

>>853550
>>853557
>>853632

You retrieve some of the stewed venison that you've kept in a container cooled by a permanent, but weak frost charm, and eat it without heating it up. The cool stew enters your stomach, and you feel full.

You search around the room for your belongings, placing them all in a knapsack as you go - two changes of clothes, your Varla Stone, parchment and ink. Your dagger rests on the belt of your robes.

The last of the items to go into the knapsack is your journal, which you spend time writing down the dream from last night in.

By the time that all of this is accomplished, you realise that you only have 5 minutes left before you're supposed to be outside Miscarcand proper.

You dash outside your chamber, run through the hallways and great halls. People wonder where you're going at such a fast pace, but most are too inebriated by various drugs to care for long.

As you reach the beginning of the stairs that lead up to the surface, you are halted by a large Ayleid wearing a full body of armor. You notice that he has no weapons, but his height (8ft) and his thug-like posture intimidate you.

"The exit is blocked on account of the expedition eastward. Only mercenaries are allowed through".

You explain to the man that you're one of the mercenaries, and that your cousin, Melebor, is likely there already and can vouch for you.

"There's a toll, in that case. 20 coins to cover the costs of food and weapons."

>A. The expedition was supposed to be funded by Aynriel the Feather-Burned. You were told you were the ones being paid.

>B. "GET OUT OF MY WAY - I DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME

>C. Attack the man (How?)

>D. Something else

>>853716
>A. The expedition was supposed to be funded by Aynriel the Feather-Burned. You were told you were the ones being paid.

>>853716
>A. The expedition was supposed to be funded by Aynriel the Feather-Burned. You were told you were the ones being paid.

>>853716
>A. The expedition was supposed to be funded by Aynriel the Feather-Burned. You were told you were the ones being paid.

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>>853752
>>853751
>>853744

You explain to the man that the expedition was supposed to be funded, and that since it's work, you're supposed to be paid for it.

"Yeah", he responds. "And now I'm asking you to pay to get through. What are you going to--"

Before the man is able to proceed with his words, he's cut off by another voice from above.

"Hey, get up here! Aynriel needs some crates moved onto the wagon."

The man glares at you, spits on the ground next to you, and then proceeds up the stairway. Following him, you exit Miscarcand and step outside into the surface world. A beautiful sunrise awaits you - the sky is wrapped in a temporal glow of orange and red. The air is cool, and refreshing on your golden skin.

All around the base of Miscarcand, some thirty or forty soldiers are busy sorting belongings or moving crates onto carts. Some are clad in extravagant, golden armor that looks like it is made out of pure sunlight, whilst others have donned a more mundane variety.

Six people line up out the front of a stall which is handing out various pieces of armor, weapons and food. You can assume that this is where you'll need to go to retrieve your equipment for the journey.

>A. Line up
>B. Look for Melebor, your cousin
>C. Something else

>>853837
>B. Look for Melebor, your cousin

>>853837
>B. Look for Melebor, your cousin

>>853837
>B. Look for Melebor, your cousin
Hopefully our bro Silcatar puts us in charge so we can put that thuggish ass on latrine duty every night.

>>854417
>>854380
>>853876

You scout around the camp, looking for Melebor. It takes a little while, what with the busyness of the situation, but you find him standing by a jungle tree, situated slightly away from everyone else.

You grew up with Melebor, but you were never fond of him. When you moved out of Garlas Agea a few years ago, he came with you. He was something of a nuisance to begin with, but his thieving and pick-pocketing skills soon earned him favour with local crime syndicates, and he started earning a lot of coin. Although he often offered to take care of you and move you to higher-class quarters down below, you always adamantly refused.

You approach Melebor, who grins when he sees you.

"I'm glad you came", he says in a delighted voice. "It's going to be a lot more fun with you around - I can tell already".

Having little patience for sarcasm from others, you shift the conversation towards the departure of the expedition.

"It'll leave in about an hour. Make sure you line up and get some good gear."

You line up for what seems like a long time, because the foremost person is indecisive and can't pick what weapons they want.

When you reach the front of the line, an older woman manning the stall explains that you can choose from two sets of equipment, and asks which you'd like. No matter what you pick, you'll receive the same rations as everyone else.

>A. Sword and shield, with heavy elven armor
>B. Two long knives, and mantled light armor
>C. An elven long bow and a quiver of arrows
>D. Ask her if she has anything magic related

>>854512
>D. Ask her if she has anything magic related
or, failing that
>C. An elven long bow and a quiver of arrows

>>854554
I should add that you have Melebor's bow already, but the additional arrows would certainly be useful.

>>854554
"What about something magic related?" you ask the woman, "do you have anything like that?"

The woman sighs, grumbles something about "I'll go check", heads behind the stall and comes back with an old spell book and a staff.

"I don't know what either of them do", she says "but you're welcome to take them if you really want to."

You inspect the staff. It is long, perhaps three quarters of your height, and has a slick blue frame. Atop the head of the staff rests what appears to be a Welkynd Stone, only red.

Quickly flipping through the dusty and near-moulding pages of the spell book, you ascertain that it contains several power spells, far beyond your capacity, and several spells that you think you could cast with some patience.

>A. You'll take it
>B. You'd rather have the bow and arrows
>C. Something else

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Filthy Altmer, Tamriel belongs to its original inhabitants. The Hist. >>854632
>A. You'll take it

>>854632
>A. You'll take it
Mystery box?
The only reason Melebor is going on this exedition is because he stole something off the wrong person and had to get out of town.

>>854693
>Altmer
Yuck. Ayleid are pretty biologically different. Especially in this canon.
--------

"I'll take it", you say. The woman seems relieved to have gotten rid of what she probably assumed was just junk, or not worth very much. She also reaches behind the stall and pulls up a bunch of food supplies, waterskins, and torches.
"There's enough food there to last a week, if you ration it properly", she says. "We'll be stopping at Neyond Twyll in roughly that time to replenish and meet up with other soldiers. There's a whole system of trade routes being developed at the moment to solidify our bonds with other city-states."

Before the elderly woman can continue, you're patted on the back and led away from the stall by Silcatar. Almost dropping what you're carrying, you sit down for a second to sort it all into your knapsack. You keep the staff at your side, and it dimly glows.

Silcatar expresses that he's happy you came, and that it was typical of you to take the magical items instead of a good sword and shield. "But whatever works for you, kid", he says.

"I was talking to your cousin earlier. He seems pretty eager to get moving. And so does Aynriel. You can tell that this is just a political manoeuvre for him. He wants to claim the Kingship of Miscarcand, and he'll stop at nothing to get it."

"Don't you think he's passionate about this?" you ask.

"No. I've been fighting in wars for a long time. Even against fellow Ayleid. I know determination when I see it. Aynriel has the eyes of a vulture, not of an eagle. He couldn't care less about our plight, so long as he could make some coin off of it."

While Silcatar is talking, you manage to spot Aynriel. He is standing about giving orders, with his arms crossed, while younger men attend to his whims. He is clad in a brilliant white armor, engraved with Daedric letters and runes, each painted in a slightly different colour - it is dazzling, and like the physical manifestation of a rainbow. Atop his head rests a golden crown, adorned with feathers. His harsh face looks with disdain at those around him, while his silver hair and beard flow neatly and unwoven.

>A. Approach Aynriel
>B. Hang out with Silcatar, learn what he knows about the places we're going
>C. Try to figure out what the staff does

>>854711
And yes, it's the mystery box.

You guys may have made this very interesting, considering what this staff does :^]

>>854754
>>C. Try to figure out what the staff does while hanging with Silcatar
Maybe ask him if he is looking forward to roast horker belly. Definitely don't talk to Ayyynriel. He has probably never even heard of our works.

>>854754
>>B. Hang out with Silcatar, learn what he knows about the places we're going
>>C. Try to figure out what the staff does

Combine these two and try to see if there are any usefull low level spells we may need.

Specifically the Rune spells to create traps and a healing spell, maybe even muffle.

Try to get Silcatar to learn at least one of those as they are extremely usefull.

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>>854780
With a little while to go before the expedition leaves, you sit down with Silcatar and try to determine how the staff you've received functions. While the two of you idly chat, you find that there is a small engraving on the frame, that follows along until it reaches the top. As you're well-versed with Ayleidoon (it being your own language) you can read that it spells out 'Twyllvarlais' (Well of Stars), and 'Nenalata' (Water of Light). None of that gives you much indictation about what it does, but you're intrigued by the concepts.

You decide to stand up and test the staff out. Aiming it at the ground some distance away, you pull it back and thrust the head out. A small, kaleidoscopic ball of light shoots from the staff, and lightly burns the grass.
Some of the people around glance at you strangely, but return to their duties.

"So, Silcatar", you say, inspecting the staff further, "I imagine you're looking forward to the slaughter".

Silcatar chuckles, but seems to brush the statement off. There is a sombreness to his eyes - as if he perceives something that you don't.

By the time the expedition is ready to leave, you and Melebor are designated to rear flanks, just in front of a group of archers. The two of you stand side by side, awaiting for orders and a clearance to move by Aynriel, who at this point is mounted on a white stallion, with a red cape flowing behind him, bearing the insignia of the CHIM-EL ADABAL.

"Niyalata, I'm going to be breaking off from the company before we get to Culotte. Supposedly there are rebel groups of Ayleid soldiers up north actively assisting the Nord invasion. Aynriel wants me to head out there and try to locate and infiltrate them - hopefully to cause trouble and weaken their defences. I'm afraid I'll miss all of the bloodshed you'll be causing with that staff of yours, dear cousin."

This isn't surprising to you. Melebor always was interested in becoming a spy.

"Well, dear cousin", you begin, "I can't help but feel that I won't miss you in the slightest."

-----
I'll probably end here for now, unless people are super interested in continuing. Feel free to tell me how you feel it's going, how you want the character to be, what I'm not doing well, etc.

>>854780
Pretty much no one outside of Miscarcand has heard of your works. You're known for being a snobby author, but that's it.

>>854843
Funny I haven't heard anything about this Melebor, are you sure you are not defecting?
I realise the quest hasn't been going very long but it doesn't feel like it has much depth yet. Maybe that is supposed to be a reflection on our apathetic MC but you did say you would be exploring their culture and some more ... active interactions with NPCs would help with that. I think, I am not a writer though.

>>854866
Yeah, I suppose there isn't a tremendous amount of depth yet. I mostly just want the player to get involved in the war so we can skip time forward to the Alessian Slave Rebellion and delve into city-state politics.

Okay. I've been trying to avoid too much dialogue, because I felt that people would grow tired of not having any 'adventure', so to speak.

This is my first quest, though. I'm hoping to make it a lot more interesting. Things have to start off small.

>>854843
Well for now just keep our selves and that veteran dude safe.
He's a realist who is trying to save his people.
We need more people like that.
If all else fails propose the Dirreni conquest of High rock and mate some humans.

>>854911
You're about 100 years too early (it's 1E240) for Direnni takeover, and you Daedra-worshipping Ayleid aren't exactly on the best terms with your Aedra-loving brethren.

But you can certainly try, unless Pelinal kills you first.

>>854931
>Pelinal
I can't wait to get murdered by the cannibal terminator and his winged minotaur friend.

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>>854943
Yeah, seriously.
Good luck.

>>854931
Well better larn the Mark and Recall spells so we can escape better.

>>854945
Can't we just fuck off with an Ayleid army to Elswheyr or Valenwood, occupy it, and convince the Empire not to kill us? Maybe Morrowind, I don't think they're totally stable yet.

>>854952
Or we get our selves some ships and flee to the island chain in the direction of Akavir.
Then we build not!Atlantis.

>>854952
You can do that if you're able to gain that much political power by that point. Considering where you are now, it would be pretty difficult in three years.

But you've got a part to play in this

>>854954
>going to Akavir

Ohoho.

Anon, you can't just jump forward kalpas.

>>854954
That would work, I think. That one is uninhabited, right? The only problem is that once the Men of Akavir and Tsaecsi decided to invade Tamriel, we'd be screwed.

And that's pretty much the only safe place to go on Nirn. Going west leads to the Thrass and the Sloads, past them is dead Yokuda. Going north leads to dead Atmora. Going south leads to Pyandonia and the Sea Elves. And going further east leads to Akavir, which is just a terrible place.

>>854957
>Alessian Revolt in three years
Oh boy.

Is there any way to contact the Dwemer? Have the Aldmer and Chimer seperated yet? Are the Falmer fully warped yet, or is there still hope?

>>854961
No.
Not to Akavir.
I say we conquer one of the bigger islands that's between Akavir and Tamriel.
Safe and sound from the humans while being able to build up our forces and civilisation.
By the time the Empire gets there they would have already had a few dunmer who have held the throne.

>>854963
The men of Akavir got eaten, remember.
The only ones invading are the Tseci and Snow demons.
The Snow demons usually go straight for Morrorwind or Skyrim.
The Tsaeci will only send in a small force whom we can offer help to get to Tamriel while using magic to prevent them from reaching our island.

>>854972
The Men of Akavir persisted until the late First Era at least, considering they formed the Blades and backed Reman Cyrodiil, along with the Tsaesci. Snow Demons don't cross the Padomaic Ocean and usually just kill the Ka Po' Tun and Tang Mo, or give the Tsaesci a reminder that they're not the worst thing on Akavir.

>>854963
Sorry, I'm using Kirkbride lore. Yokuda, Akavir and Atmora aren't physical places.

>Is there any way to contact the Dwemer?
Potentially, but it would be difficult. A lot of Morrowind is currently annexed by the Nords, but the Dwemer cities are still around. In a very short time, King Gellir, High King of Skyrim is going to completely conquer the entirety of the Dwemer settlements in Skyrim.

>Have the Aldmer and Chimer seperated yet?
That happened in the late-middle Merethic era, so yes, definitely.

>Are the Falmer fully warped yet, or is there still hope?

There is little hope. The Betrayal has already occurred.

>>854982
>There is little hope. The Betrayal has already occurred.
I just checked, the Falmer should be hanging on by a thread. So Skyrim, Solstheim, and Morrowind are Nordic? Vvardenfel is Dwemer? Hammerfell is Redguard/Orsimer, and High Rock is Nedic? I know that Summerset is Aldmer, and Black Marsh is Argonian, but what about Valenwood and Elswheyr? And the Chimer are in parts of Cyrodiil and Morrowind?

I get Yokuda and Atmora possibly not being physical, along with Aldmeris. But Akavir has been stated to have been invaded by like, two seperate Septim Emperors in-game. The ancestral lands not being physical makes sense, but Akavir being another realm doesn't.

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>>854982
Also
>Kirkbride lore
So this quest is a fanfiction of a fanfiction?

>>854988
Exactly what happens to the Falmer is pretty ambiguous. Some survived and fled, but not many. They're not deformed creatures, but they're hardly how they once were.

Skyrim, Solstheim, much of High Rock and the eastern territories of Morrowind, into Resdayn and Ald'Ruhn is/are controlled by the Nords. Mournhold, Narsis, Necrom and Telvannis is Dunmeri/Velothi inhabited at the present.

The centre of Vvardenfell is Dwemer-controlled.

As was indicated in the quest, much of the eastern heartland of Cyrod is under Nord control/attack at the moment.

>>854988
In regards to Akavir, you make a good point, but ultimately Akavir represents the next kalpa/the future Tamriel. The invasions can occur because the Tsaesci will it to be so: they hunger to eat-it-to-become-it, and put faith in their hero-god-king, who paves way for entering the last kalpa by sailing through memory (water).

The actual 'continent' of Akavir is a bleed-point into Tamriel.

So how do I start off here?

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Might run in a few hours.

>>878622
If you make a new thread can you please use a different listing image. The current one triggers me.

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>>878638
The Todd Howard one, you mean?

I doubt I'll make a new thread, considering this one has plenty of posts left.

>>878652
dammit

Should I do a time-skip, or pick up from where we left off?

Time-skip could be months to a year.

>>878718
If you mean timeskip over the journey north I'm all for it, it will skip the inevitable training montage with one update per scene. If you mean timeskip till after the Nords beat us up and we go running off with our staff between our legs then no. Not sure what the point would be.

>>878821
The former.

>>878828
>>878821
And it's more of a journey east.

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It's been two months since you departed Miscarcand proper.

The events transpired over that duration have been difficult, chaotic and frenzied - you have seen blood, fire, rain, death, and awakened in yourself something of a new flavour of being.

When stopping at the independent city-state of Ceytatar, your newly-formed friend, the veteran Silcatar became dreadfully ill. With your knowledge of herbal medicine, you were able to cure him within a few nights with clean drinking water and the stems of some mushrooms found deep within the crevice of an Ayleid well.

Joining up with some 50 troops at Ceytatar, you set off in the direction of Neyond Twyll, marching as two units respective to city, and dispatched several groups of Nordic skirmishing parties from the north along the way. Several men from Miscarcand and Ceytatar fell, but each time the groups would march on, led by the valour of Aynriel and a general from Ceytatar.

Before heading south-east to approach Neyond Twyll, the company split. Your cousin, Melebor and several other men clad in patchwork leather armor departed north, to fulfil secretive requests from Aynriel. Silcatar wasn't hesitant to exclaim his thoughts on the subject - that Aynriel was establishing connections with northern Ayleid tribes and annexed states to solidify a presence in the western reaches of Cyrod should the Nords take the heartlands. Aynriel himself said nothing of the departure to anyone else; you and Silcatar were the only ones with knowledge of the purported reasons due to your relationship with Melebor.

Upon reaching Neyond Twyll, you noticed that your health was beginning to deteriorate. You had never been the fittest person around, but gradually, you realised a difference in your gait - it was rigid, stiff; you walked slower than most of the troops, despite having less to carry, and began relying on your staff to support you. It could be the constant fatigue of being on the road, but you noticed other adversities as well - your skin had started to darken and tighten, almost as though it had received extensive sun damage. Your eyes had grown distant, and dark rings began to appear beneath them.

Having studied extensively the book of spells in your free time, you managed to learn several new spells: Lay of Hands, which became useful around the company as it gave you the ability to infuse your own magicka essence with the blood in another person's body, accelerating the healing process of wounds. Naturally, you were able to turn the spell against yourself as well, though with less success. Also learned was a rune spell, 'Web of Light', which ensnares victims in a temporal web of incorporeal light.
Despite further study, most of the book remains mysterious and elusive.

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>>879106

Leaving Neyond Twyll and boarding ships to ride east to Culotte, disaster struck. After splitting the entire party into its two respective groups (based on city), the ship carrying the soldiers from Ceytatar was set alight just as it left harbour. Watching from afar, as your ship drifted on, the wooden ship was reduced to nothing in the deep ocean. Your kin fled the burning vessel, but most were devoured in the ruinous flames or drowned in ancient waters. The sky was alight with fire, and all that could be seen that night was smoke and death.

Now, you have arrived just south of Culotte. A garrison of troops has been established and is awaiting orders from Aynriel. A Nord army will descend upon Culotte in just two days according to scouts; in the mean time, you and all of the armies arrived at Culotte to defend it (including its own) are establishing exterior defences to halt the advancing Nord army. Traditionally, an Ayleid army would await deep within the caverns of the city underground, and ambush the opposition there: but in recent times, the plan has failed - seeing many cities overwhelmed by Nord numbers and brute force.

You sit around a campfire, musing over your spellbook. Adjacent to you is Silcatar, who sharpens his blade and exchanges stories with the men around him - many of whom are from Miscarcand as well. Bonds were solidified quickly after arrival, and many Ayleid formed groups related to their cities or cultural traditions. Although on the battlefield you will all be one, when the violence stops the unison quickly dissolves into separate groups. You find solace in being around those who have known (or at least seen) from Miscarcand.

One of the men around the campfire remarks that you have effectively "become the company's wizard -or rather, healer", and you chuckle. You've been rather praised throughout the adventure as having had more courage than the rest of the academics and mages, "who'd rather study star constellations or perform experiments locked away in their studies".

You sip some water out of a flask. It's been a long, tiring expedition, and if all goes according to plan, you'll be returning home in a short while, and not impaled on some barbarians's longsword.

The night is growing darker, and deeper. A cold mist permeates the flat ground where you're camped, and tiredness begins to set in. Your tent is pitched, and you could sleep whenever you please. You'll be awoken tomorrow morning alongside everyone else when work is required.

>A. Go to sleep, you have a long day ahead of you
>B. Talk to Silcatar
>C. Share a drink with the men around the fire, and share stories

>>879112
>B. Talk to Silcatar
>C. Share a drink with the men around the fire, and share stories

Glad to see this thread is still alive. Let's warm ourselves by the fire. Hopefully get some good dialogue going which has kind of been lacking in this quest.

>>879112
Take a potion of cure common desease you sick fuck you have rockjoint, then
>A. Go to sleep, you have a long day ahead of you
And by long day I mean a long day of staying the fuck out the melee.

>>879143
>rockjoint
You wish, Anon.
You wish.

>>879131
Thanks for being glad. Yeah, sorry about the lack of dialogue. I assumed people wouldn't be interested in it.

Rolled 12 (1d100)

Since there was a tie, I'll roll for choice.

50+ is going to sleep, below 50 is talking at the campfire.

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>>879152
You settle further down onto the ground, relaxing your position until you're entirely comfortable. Looking around, most of the men at the campfire (6) have started nodding off, either due to tiredness or drunkenness. Silcatar is sober, however, and one other elf looks pretty cognisant; you recognise him as the thuggish man who halted you at the Miscarcand steps and demanded money. Since then, you've had very little to do with him, and only exchanged glances on rare occasions. He has a deep scowl on his face, and stares deeply into the fire. The flames reflect on his bald head, and his long, silver beard protrudes from his face.

"So, Silcatar" you begin, staring at the thuggish man, "what did you do before you joined the army?"

Silcatar tilts his head back to stare at the stars. A glimmer of nostalgia is held in his eyes, and it seems as though he's staring off into an unknown world.
"I worked as a labourer in Miscarand; born and raised in the city my entire life, see?"

You nod along, settling yourself in.

"The days were long, and tiring. I helped mine out new sections of the city - 50 years or so ago, we didn't have the lower sections. The King mandated that every able bodied man not already in some field of employment put a conscious energy into expanding the city underneath. Back in those days, King Sartial instituted many programs to get the downtrodden and forgotten of Miscarcand to contribute to the city's economy and liveliness. But after his son died, well, he became the despot we now know."

You recall requesting an audience with King Sartial at one point - the request was denied on account of you being from a low socio-economic birth; the King's highborn policies were strict, but have since lessened over time.

Silcatar goes on.
"As I was saying, it was tough work, but good living. I was making coin for the first time in my life, and the muscles I built along the way caught the attention of many women and the ire of a lot of men. If you were wondering how I became a soldier - well, I joined the bloodsports, and after cleaving my way through about 40 slaves armed with nothing but razors in one round of combat, the King's men took notice and put me into mandatory training.
Say, Niyalata - what do you think you'll do after this, provided we actually manage to drive off most of these bastards?"

>A. Return to Miscarcand and write a memoir on your travels
>B. You'll see where the road takes you
>C. Try to find Melebor and hopefully influence more kingdoms to join the war effort

>>879164
>B. You'll see where the road takes you

It's a changing time. And the twilight of our people. We'll see what the fates have in store for us.

>>879164
>B. You'll see where the road takes you

>>879164
>A. Return to Miscarcand and write a memoir on your travels
Getting dragged along on an adventure is fine and all but it is not a vocation we would choose. The wind keeps blowing our scrolls and getting dust in our ink. There is always some idoit wanting their crushed toe fixed up...

>>879170
>>879182

"I'll suppose I'll just see where this road takes me from here. It's a changing time, Silcatar. And the twilight of our people - I await to see what the starlight fate of Meridia has in store for us."

You quickly realise that your words weren't exactly comforting for Silcatar. His eyes now stare down at the fire, and he shifts his body uncomfortably. It didn't take you long to realise that he cares deeply about his people - at least about those at Miscarcand. He is a pragmatic optimist who would die for his own, but you feel he hasn't given much thought to what lies beyond this war.

"Yeah", he finally says, "the starlight fate of Meridia. The priests back home talk about that a lot, don't they? That in the end we're bound to her as she is bound to us - that the carvings in our walls depicting her heralding us into the afterlife are truth and fact and that we all must meet her in the end.
What makes you say that this is our twilight?"

>A. You've been having visions - dreams, of death, fire and decay
>B. We're caught in the middle of an invasion and divisive politics - it's the natural conclusion to take
>C. Just a feeling

>>879190
>B. We're caught in the middle of an invasion and divisive politics - it's the natural conclusion to take
Cynicalism.

>>879190
>A. You've been having visions - dreams, of death, fire and decay

I think we owe it to Silcatar to tell him about our visions. It might psych him out a little but stone cold pragmatism could see our friend run through with Nord steel from the front or an Elven dagger from the back some day. He needs to be warned even if he doesn't take it at face value.

>>879190
>C. Just a feeling

Rolled 1 (1d100)

It's been ten minutes and there's another tie. So I'll roll again.

50+ = A
-50 = B

>>879197
Ten seconds too late. Sorry.

>>879195
You consider telling your friend about your dreams. About the visions of destruction and death that you see almost nightly, but decide against it. He already has enough on his plate, and you don't want to add more right now. Besides, what stock is there in dreams?

"We're caught in the middle of an invasion, Silcatar. Most of the city-states are divided, and our people scarcely care enough to take up combat against them. Our culture is degenerating and the masses are consumed by mind-altering drugs and do nothing but torture and watch bloodsports. Many of our philosophers have predicted our decline - if this invasion is successful, we'll be subjects of the Nords - or worse - in no time."

Once you're done presenting your opinion, you glance over at Silcatar. A solemn tear runs down his cheek, and falls to the ground, where it dries amongst the flat dirt.

"I guess I've thought that for a while, too, but I've never...put it into words like that. I just want everyone to be safe. I want a future for the descendents of our race. There is a part of me that says that I need to fight until the end to ensure our survival, but there's a part of me that is aware that things like this - this expedition - are just fronts for people like Aynriel to take power. For all we know he's going to sell the rest of us out and forge an alliance with the Nords to let him keep Miscarcand."

>A. How can you be so sure? How do you know Aynriel doesn't want the same things that you do? He wouldn't be here fighting if he didn't care

>B. Empires rise and fall. Whatever happens, happens.

>C. Console Silcatar (write in)

>>879203
>B. Empires rise and fall. Whatever happens, happens.

>>879203
>B. Empires rise and fall. Whatever happens, happens.
Blame the gods, nigger. That's the only way to get through life. Unless you wan't to kill them and claim their power I suppose (Hi Lorkhan!).

>>879208
You've never seen Silcatar looking so defeated before. You're used to the rugged, powerful looking man who seemed to exude pride and conviction - the one before you now seems defeated, and scared.

"Empires rise and fall, Silcatar, my friend. We have been the dominant power for a long time: perhaps now is the age of man."

Just before you finish your sentence, you're interrupted by the thuggish man sitting across from you.

"Bullshit."

You're startled by the man, and as you glance up to him, you observe that his eyes are piercing yours - staring deeply into them.

"The day a Nord or a Nede claims power over me or this land is the day I die. If you honestly think we'll lose this, you're wrong. We've enough cities left to sustain a defence for a good two years before we need to take the fight directly to them. Which is exactly what Aynriel is going to do. Blast the lot of them - the next Nord I see is going to get his."

The moon hangs high in the hair. A dampness is beginning to appear around you.

>A. Argue with the man
>B. Concede, and go to bed

>>879218
>B. Concede, and go to bed

I think we've spread our cynicism far enough for tonight. Besides the true shaping of the world happens on the battlefield. It's not over till it's over. Fates be dammed.

Also, you certainly delivered on the dialogue end so thanks for listening to your posters.

>>879223
No worries. Thank you for the commentary as well. It helps when people try to write-in the feelings of the character.

>>879218
>Concede, and go to bed
Suer buddy, whatever. Sounds like you have a great plan. I would ask you name so that I may raise a toast to you when we rule over all of Tamriel.

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>>879223
You stand up, using your staff for support. It isn't an immense struggle, but there is a considerable exertion in doing so.
You glance over to Silcatar and the thuggish man, smiling at the former.

"I think I'd better get to sleep. We've a long day ahead of us, no? It might be in both your best interests to follow in my example."

As you begin to walk off toward your tent which is just 10 metres or so away from the camp fire, you hear the two Ayleid men debating. This continues on deep into the night - restless voices interrupt your sleep, and don't seem to die out until the beginnings of dawn.

When you sleep, your senses are immersed entirely in your dream. It is thought you are living it, completely and utterly. Before there is sight, you hear the grating of bone being carved apart by cold steel; you smell iron, and taste salt. You are shaking. Unable to move from this darkness out of pure fear. Above you, as your sight returns, an ebony sky laced with numerous stats begins to dwindle. One by one, they fade, leaving the obsidian sky until just one remains.

You feel yourself being lifted, away from danger and despair. A surge of energy runs through you, and you begin to feel cosmic - absolute, but incorporeal. You are chasing the star, pursuing it, flying through the Aurbis, with hopes that it does not disappear like the rest.

One word lingers in your mind as you wake to greet the new day. "Magne-Ge".

Awakened by the sound of a bell reverberating throughout the campsite, you rise and don your robes. You received two orders to complete today: seeing to and healing the wounded returned from raids, and writing out twenty copies of a missive from Aynriel to send to various settlements and cities across Cyrod.

>A. See to the wounded first
>B. Write the letters first
>C. Ignore them for now, doing something else (what?)

>>879236
>A. See to the wounded first

This seems more urgent. The missive can wait.

>>879236
>A. See to the wounded first
Get that angry bald guy to write the letters since he loves Aynriel so much.

>>879247
You decide that the missives for Aynriel can wait.

After eating some of your dried rations, you take your staff, your water flask and a potion brewed to replenish magicka essence with you to the infirmary. As you walk closer, past the many different tents and countless soldiers bustling about, you begin to hear the audible whimpers and moans of wounded soldiers.
Once entered, you see twenty or so men strewn about on makeshift bedding, clutching various body parts, wrapped in bandages and trying to suppress their own pain.

You aren't the only person capable of healing the wounded and sick on site, but you're a valuable addition to the effort, and your healing magic makes you a significant help.

You ask one of the healers who you should focus your attention on, and he directs you to a man whose stomach has been split open by a Nord battle-axe. He was lucky to survive the blow, but will die soon without proper treatment.

Approaching the man, you notice that he is awfully pale for an Ayleid, and that his eyes are bloodshot and intense.
You set your staff down against a wall, and begin the healing process. Using your dagger, you made a small slit in the underneath of your right arm. You sheathe the dagger, and made a sign with your left hand towards the small cut - you tug on invisible strings, beckoning magic forward, until a blue vapour is summoned. You use both of your hands to mould the vapour, shifting it around and shaping it until at last you place your hands on the man's deep wound and begin healing him. You feel the magicka bestowed upon you by Magnus and Meridia course through your veins, reaching out and spilling onto the man's wound until it is healed. The process takes a few minutes, and leaves you feeling drained. The man is brought back from the brink of death, and you feel more confident in your healing because of it.

You attend to various other wounded for some time, but none more urgent than the axe-wounded man. After two hours of helping out around the infirmary, you hear the approaching sound of steel and metal clanking towards the tent. When it draws near, you see three men pull open the infirmary tent door and look around. Immediately, you recognise Aynriel. The two men at his side appear to be his personal guards.

He starts towards you.

"You were told to appear before my tent and begin copying out missives to send to our allies. Have you any idea the import of that task? The profound calibre of its making that I have wrongly trusted upon you to carry out? The missives needed to be sent an hour ago - they were to carry critical information on the war effort and are beyond crucial. And this is how you waste your time? Tending to the fallen who were unable to protect themselves against the barbarians from the north?"

>A. If the missives were so important, maybe you should have written them yourself
>B. Apologise
>C. Something else (write in)

Damn word limit.

>>879270
>A. If the missives were so important, maybe you should have written them yourself
That guy can go fuck himself we were saving troops

>>879270
>A. If the missives were so important, maybe you should have written them yourself
Is this how you waste your time? Making a spectacle of yourself and bemoaning your errors instead of making up for them?

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>>879314
>>879313
You suddenly find yourself face to face with Aynriel for the first time, with a sudden bout of confidence. He is much taller than you, and looks down upon you, but as you look up at him, you express your thoughts in as snide a manner as you can.

"If those missives were so crucially important, Aynriel, perhaps you should have written them out yourself - what, were you too busy parading around in that armour of yours, intimidating everyone into doing your chores for you?"

There is a silence amongst the tent. Even those who were crying in pain have quietened down, and a palpable friction pervades the area.

Aynriel looks down at you with golden-hued eyes. A malice appears within them, ready to be unleashed.

"Take him to my tent. Now."

[End updates]

That's all for now, guys. Thanks for playing.

I'll be hanging around for a little while afterwards, feel free to give your thoughts or ask questions.

>>879323
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGp9P6QvMjY

Damn dude, can't wait for the next update.

>>879722
>There is a silence amongst the tent. Even those who were crying in pain have quietened down, and a palpable friction pervades the area.

Also I'm now imagining one of the wounded soldiers holding his own severed arm up to his mouth in shock.