The Arena Games

[solace84]

Warning 18+ content.​

If you are not at least 18 you should not continue to view or post to this thread. ​

You have been warned.​

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The Emperor has created the Arena Games in honor of the Empire's recent victories. The rich have endless parties and kill or seduce whomever they desire to, while the slaves are looked down upon and are seen as mere insects.
The rules are the same as just about every other RP, except 18+ is required. Recruiting is closed and ONLY open to those in the 18+ - OOC: Dibellan Ways~ for now. Once we figure out what we are doing, we will open it up. This is just an idea for a RP for us, so nothing is set in stone.
18+ is required due to graphic sex and violence, as well as profanity. Recruiting will take place in the OOC: Dibellan ways thread.



(edited to include required age appropriate warning, and to sticky first post)

 

[solace84]

Dalious Durendail rode at the head of his company of soldiers and marched into the great city of Cyrodil, home to the Empire and Emperor Titus Mede III. He was the Commander of the Penitus Oculatus Agents that had set out at the Emperor's will and had helped to win the war. So great was their victory that the Emperor decided to have the Arena Games, a tribute to their success.

"Look at her, she's a beauty is she not?" an Imperial named Lenden said, speaking of the massive city before them. He rode next to the hero of the hour, his trusted leader Dalious. "I have missed Cyrodil...warm beds, hot showers, soft bread...mmm."
"The same could describe the women," Dalious said back to him, with a smile. "But do not get too comfortable, who knows how long until our next leave."
"Leave?" Lenden laughed at the thought. "You just won us the war, the Arena Games are in our honor. I would not be surprised if you got a statue out of this."
"You act as if I fought alone," said the Commander. "I could not have done it without you and the others."

The Legioniarres marched upon horseback down the wide bridge that connected to the city. The enormous gate opened as horns blew loudly and people cheered in excitement. The streets were filled with the locals, all happy to see the war hero's returned. They followed the path to the Emperor's castle and got off their horses. Dalious walked up the high steps before him in his black and red armor, and he and his men knealt before the Emperor.

"Rise, Dalious Durendail," said the Emperor, a young and somewhat handsome man. "This is your hour."
"My Lord," Dalious rose, and nodded to the Emperor's company behind him.
"Come, join us, you must have many stories to tell and I would hear them," Titus said, leading him into the castle.

By nightfall a secret party had been going on within. Dalious sat with the Emperor as his men got drunk and laid all around them. Women were put to show, as they walked around naked and entertained in many ways. Lenden was sat in a corner, a female slave riding on top of him. Other slaves served food and drink, while music and laughter filled the air.

"I have a proposition for you Dalious," the Emperor started. "We are having these Arena Games as you may know, in honor of our victories and such. Yet, we have no Imperials of skill involved in any of the matches. This can not be so, as a champion will be named and I want him to be an Imperial. That's where you come in...I want you to become champion."
Dalious laughed at first, thinking he was joking. When he realized he was serious he took a long shot of whiskey.
"I was to believe I would head out again, there is still more to fight," Dalious replied.
"Someone else can do that for you. It is rare to have a man of your...talents. I've tried this before, but they have all died upon the sands. You, you must win for the Empire. This city needs a champion."
"I am but to serve you, my Lord," Dalious said, nodding his head.
"And you think you can win, right? They are but slaves you are fighting, anyway."
"I can only promise that I will give your city a show unlike any they have ever seen," Dalious assured him.
"Good, now go get laid. The Games are soon to begin."

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

Adnirr'ach Da'lae was not used to being bound in chains. No, not at all. The Dark Paladin vampire had tried on multiple occasions to break free, but his bindings had been enchanted. Of course they were. Damned magic. He laughed to himself as he thought this, for he was a partaker in dark magics himself. He had come to Cyrodill to offer his services to the Emperor as part of his mission of redemption, but instead had been captured and "recruited" to participate in the arena games. The guards threw him into the holding area with the other gladiators, who seemed to be in awe of the giant's size. Of course, he was a 6'5", breton-dark elf vampire, with bulging, rippling muscles everywhere. The Imperials had taken his massive black armor and sacred weapons, though Adnirr'ach did not need those to kill. Although, he hoped he would get them back before the Games began.

Overhearing some of the other slaves, Adnirr'ach learned that these "Games" were to begin quite soon. "Main thing is, ya gotta kill the other bloke before he kills you!" laughed one of the soon-to-be gladiators, a wiry man by the name of Leandros. Walking up to him, Adnirr'ach Da'lae looked right at him and asked, "And why do they do this? What is the point of watching us slaughter each other for no reason?" "Well, for the rich un's own entertainment for one thing...and to eventually buy our freedom. Ya see, win enough games, you get to be the people's hero, and start to win some gold. If not gold, at least the Emperor's favor. Either way, down the road one may find the chance to win his freedom, if ye can survive that long," explained Leandros. "Say...you ain't exactly human are ye??" noticed the wiry slave.

 

[Neverwin]

Great-Comfort was not a slave. Her parents had been (and in the case of her father, possibly still was) slaves. But not her nor any of her siblings last she heard from them. But it could not be said that she was rich, either. Thanks to offering "special services" cheaper than any brothel, she managed to live a little comfortably. She was kept out of chains by virtue of being very useful. For a very small price (enough to buy one apple and nothing more), she, a few other servants, and a few slaves (who were unable to fight) kept the arena stands and the areas outside of the arena clean. For no charge at all, she healed those who needed to be healed. She was useful and more than lived up to her name.

She was outside the stadium currently, and near an inn. The games had not yet started, and many men preferred to enjoy a woman just before or after the games. Many would turn to a brothel, but others were more adventurous. She needed only to attract attention. She was not wearing her usual robes, but one of her best, short dresses (the beautiful colors of the dress had faded some time ago; it was well-worn). She did not call out for attention nor was there any sign indicating she was offering services or even so much as a numbered price. She only danced, and she danced magnificently, gracefully, almost hypnotically. Some people would stop to watch, and she would try to beckon any one of them closer. It seemed this batch was a bit too shy or embarrassed. She persisted in beckoning, not saying a single word.

 

[solace84]

Dalious felt the whores body sweat against his own as she rode him like a champion herself. She moaned and giggled as her long, curly blonde hair bounced and swayed with each movement. Dalious then put her on her back and finished her off, pulling out before his seed could enter her. He then lay next to her as she cuddled on him, the smell of sex and the sound of more sex growing in the room around them.
"You have killed many men?" she asked, massaging his hard abs.
"I have," he replied.
"And you will kill more," she continued. "Do you like to kill?"
"I kill because I am required to."
"And you are good at it?"
Dalious nodded in agreement. He ran his fingers through her soft blonde hair and thought of the Arena, a place he had never thought to be fighting.
"I will cheer for you in the Arena," she said, almost as if she could read his thoughts.
He smiled, then lay back to sleep.

 

[Neverwin]

Desiree was not making herself particularly obvious at the moment. She kept her cloak wrapped around herself, showing no skin. The holding cell was full of people, slaves like herself. She was bound in enchanted chains as well, and she had no weapon. It was not a particularly good position to be in. She was practically defenseless, and as far as she could tell, the number of females in the holding cell were very, very few.

She was trying to concentrate on the other would-be gladiators. She was observing mannerisms, trying to decide who she could use and who she could ally with (for as long as it suited her), and looking for weaknesses. A nervous tic, any indications of an emotional past that she could exploit...

It was very difficult being surrounded by so many warm bodies, though. Every other detail she sifted through would be interrupted by thoughts of wild, hot sex. It was beyond frustrating. That accursed Daedric Prince...

She took a deep breath. Focus.

I am a logical being. Passionless, not a slave to my physical urges. With the power of the mind, I can overcome any obstacle...

Her thoughts broke a moment when she heard someone mention earning favor with the Emperor. Now, that would be ideal. There would be so much to gain from having favor with such a powerful figure...

She looked over to the man who was speaking, then noticed the man next to him. The man towered above everyone else, and he was probably built better than anyone else in the room. Her legs felt like jelly just looking at him. All she could think about was what a man like that could do to someone like her. Unable to help herself, she let out a pitiful whimper before walking into the shadows, so that no one would know where the noise had come from.

Damn it all... if she didn't do something soon, she was going to lose complete control. She needed to act to ensure her security for the time being. She snuck over to the giant of a man, still sticking to the shadows. She was behind him.

"Don't turn around, don't speak," she whispered to him, speaking in a voice meant for his ears only. She was, unfortunately, unable to keep the seductive tone out of her voice. "I have no intention of harming you, and I doubt I could at the moment, anyway. If you give me away, I will most assuredly be preyed upon, and for obvious reasons, I don't want that to happen. I think that we can... help one another."

She looked around. The cell was crowded. It was a wonder she could get by with sneaking at all. "Wrap up whatever conversation you're engaged in and meet me over by the wall across from the direction you're facing in." She blended back into the shadows and crept silently until she reached the location that was just a bit less crowded than the rest of the holding cell.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

Smiling to himself, Adnirr'ach looked down at the man and replied, "My friend, you certainly have more wits about you than the others. Perhaps we can continue this...conversation at a later time. As of now...I have business elsewhere. But thank you for your tips."

With that, the half-Breton half-drow vampire moved quickly but nonchalantly to the opposite wall, as the mysterious woman had asked him too. He figured that, whatever this woman might want, whomever she may be, it would be more interesting than conversing with a bunch of other slaves. Like me. Damn it all. he thought to himself.

Adnirr'ach put his back against the shadowy wall, glaring at anyone that came close, figuring that would keep their impending conversation as private as possible.



Almost whispering so his lips moved as little as possible, he asked, "Now, what in Oblivion would a woman such as yourself, be doing in a place such as this, I wonder? Protection? Most likely. Physical needs? Maybe. A conspiracy against the accursed patricians who hold us here...I hope so. But I ramble, dear. Please, enlighten me as to your...desires."

 

[Neverwin]

Desiree had been right about him. He was clever. For now, it was helpful. Later, it would probably be a pain in the ass. She wasn't able to dwell on her quick observations of him, though. The way he talked was sending pleasant little shivers down her spine.

"I was a prisoner," she said, trying to keep her breathing controlled, "And now, I'm here. It is true that, at the moment, I need your protection. I have no weapon, my magic is being suppressed, and I do not have the benefit of looking as intimidating as you do. I think you will find me a valuable ally. I have many skills and talents. And..." She felt unbearably warm, but she continued keeping her cloak held tight against herself. "I think it doesn't have to be said that there are certain "advantages" to being allied with one of the very few females in this cell."

 

[Nadir-Natesse]

Her orgasm was intense. She wasn't sure if it was due to her skill alone, or the fact that she knew what was coming next, but either way, it was what it was. She tossed her head back and groaned at the ceiling. The Dunmer male beneath her, gripped her hips and held on tightly, thrusting up into her, trying to get his; thanks to her spasming internal muscles, it didn't take too long... He gritted his teeth and tried to lift her off, but she held on to him. Panicking, he glared at her, but her icy eyes met his with a calm reassurance.

"I'm safe, I promise. I have potions for this sort of thing. Just let go."

He looked worried and skeptical, but couldn't have held back if he wanted to. His warm seed exploded into her vaginal canal in spasmic bursts; Natesse could've swore she felt it coating her insides. It wasn't until the gooey mess had began to leak out of her and into a sticky puddle on the bottom sheets did he collapse back onto the pillows, spent. She lifted herself off of his flaccid manhood and gave a small grimace at the mess that was made. Regardless of her profession, she still could barely stand the sight of dripping semen; it turned her stomach. Taking the top sheets with her, she disappeared into the washroom to clean up.

When she returned, the Dunmer was getting dressed. She glanced at the side table: he'd dropped several septims there, barely enough to cover the price to rent the room. She smirked; having pegged him a cheapskate from the very beginning, she'd accounted for this chain of events. He looked up and over his shoulder, and grunted at her. He was like all the rest: she was a beautiful full flower in one moment, and after the deed was done, she was a disgusting piece of trash. Natesse knew the drill and it had long since stopped effecting her.

"There's your coin, whore. That was about the worth of what you put out. You've been used too much today for me to enjoy it."

She grinned. And scooped it up, dropping it into her coinpurse. The Dunmer finished strapping on his dragonplate armor; he'd been an adventurer, just in town from exploring a Nordic ruin. She'd seen him trot his horse into town, and stop off at the armorer. judging from the large, heavy sack he toted, he had found a lot of valuable weapons and looked to sell them for some coin...which he did. He emerged from the shop with only one item, a broken war-axe that he simply dropped on the ground. He was arrogant, that much was obvious... She watched him shove past the beggars that asked him for coin, having seen exactly what Natesse had. They were doing it wrong, she thought to herself. So, so wrong...

She waited, patiently, as he went from shop to shop, only emerging with small packages. Potions only it seemed, but no new weapons or armor. The steel greatsword strapped to his back needed to be replaced, or at least needed a good buffing, but he did nothing of the sort. So, in addition to being selfish, he was cheap. This would work out great. Eventually, he made his way to the inn. Great-Comfort, a dear friend of Natesse's was outside, drawing a crowd with her sensual dancing. The girl was good, this was no doubt, but sadly, she hadn't gotten any takers tonight. Natesse knew that she would share her spoils with her friend once they had been won.

"Dos lor dwalc... Ssrig'luin fol tar'annen?" ("You look lonley... Need some company?")

The Dunmer stopped, and looked around. Natesse smiled at him. He smirked back, impressed. Not many Bosmer knew the arcane language of the Dunmer. He approached her, not at all subtly. Had she not been so strapped for coin, she'd have laughed aloud; his swagger was ridiculously exaggerated.

"Ele naut? Whol l' ditronw price, nindel zhah." ("Why not? For the right price, that is.")

Crossing her arms, she gave him a sweet smile. Her breasts pushed together, accentuating her cleavage. This had the desired affect; he couldn't bear to not look. She ran a finger down his armored chest, her eyes flashing seductively.

"My prices are always, always fair."


That was all it took. He'd wined and dined her, boasting of his brave exploits (which almost bored her to tears, and he had A LOT to say. This was probably the only way anyone would listen to him: if he paid them to) and now here he was, dismissing her like a dead mudcrab. She slid up behind him, breathing lightly against his ear.

"I'll do better next time..."

He swatted her away and made for the door. He opened it and stood in the frame, a look of disgust on his face.

"Next time? I don't bed my own sloppy seconds. I wouldn't touch you again for a thousands septims. Heh. Not that I need that much now."

Natesse approached him again; here it was, the crescendo of her score.

"That's so sad. Well, I suppose I should thank you, then. Thank you for the lovely evening... The food, the wine...the tales...and thank you for paying my next month's rent, and next month's feeding expenses...oh, and most of all, thank you for being so dull."

He looked confused for a second, then his eyes got wide. He reached inside his armor for his coinpurse, heavy with septims from his haul...It was gone, as was the sack of small gems and gold ore he'd mined himself. He snapped his gaze back to Natesse, who still had on her serene smile, and it dawned on him.

"You...you thieving bitch!"

He was reaching for his greatsword (not a very practical weapon for this setting, as it were) when Natesse stepped in, warped her arms around him, her hand holding the back of his head, keeping his mouth to hers, and kissed him. He flailed in rage for a brief moment, then suddenly stilled, his tensed muscles melting into neutrality. He glowed with a cool blue light that faded slowly as if sinking into his flesh. Natesse let him go and stepped back. He was staring dumbly at her, still, but definitely calm. She pushed gently on his chest and he took a few steps back, out of her room and into the hallway beyond the door.

"Goodbye, brave adventurer. May great fortunes find you on your travels, then bring you back to me."

And with that, she shut the door.

((OMG sorry for the book, guys. I just got SO into it....))

 

[solace84]

The games began early the next day, a little after dawn. It was a long event, as the seats got filled usually around late morning. The first events were executions, some via an executioner while others were done by creatures such as sabercats or wolves. This went on all morning as there were many slaves to be executed, but by noon the fighting began. It was scheduled to start with an undercard, where slaves fought the gladiators...usually the gladiators won. By nightfall the Primus began, which would combat gladiators against gladiators, or something of the like against each other in a tournament. The winner claiming title of 'Champion', all of these fighters are the volunteers that want their names to be remembered. This is where Dalious would fight, all he knew was the first round of it was against an expert Redguard from Hammerfell.

Dalious awoke early and walked around the city walls, he would not need to make appearance backstage until the Emperor showed, which was soon after mid-day. His men were on leave, and though they wanted to support him in the Arena, he told them not to. This was something he chosen to do alone.

"Fresh meat here!" a voice called out among the masses.
Crowds of people roamed about the markets, even at this hour of the day. Dalious made his way to a local tavern, ordering up a bottle of whiskey and some Dragongrass to smoke in his pipe.
He sat back alone and enjoyed his drink and weed, wondering if he would die this day. Could there be someone out there more skilled? He knew the Redguard he faced was well known in Hammerfell, as he was in Cyrodil. He shook the thought from his mind and continued to drink.

"You're Dalious, are you not?" asked the bartender, an over weight Imperial that was slightly balding.
"I am," Dalious replied.
"Good luck today, I hear you're fighting in the Primus."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," he said, then took a shot of his whiskey.

 

[Neverwin]

Great-Comfort had only caught a glimpse of her friend, Natesse, who had apparently found a Dunmer man to bed. She was glad, at least, that someone was having some success. But the Argonian was patient. She was certain the only reason she had not yet been approached was because the current batch in the crowd was shy or nervous about approaching her. It was understandable. Regardless of the popularity of certain books, Argonians tended to be considered very exotic, and that could be intimidating for many people. She knew that once the Games had started up again, she would have better luck. If she did well enough, and she almost always did, she'd probably even have repeat customers. It was one of the advantages to not robbing her clients blind (the disadvantage, of course, being that there were some who would short her, and there'd be little she could do about that except to avoid them in the future).

She was happy to have met Natesse because since meeting her, her life had become... easier. It wasn't just that her friend willingly shared with her when she was able (though, Great-Comfort had never asked her to. Still, she did not refuse someone's generosity. It was a behavior that should be encouraged), but the Argonian woman had noticed that the number of forceful, not-intent-on-paying-at-all encounters had decreased significantly. Great-Comfort could take care of herself; she had often been able to get away... on occasion, she'd even be rescued by someone she had healed or by a customer that had been particularly fond of her. But it was kind of a relief to know that she had come under someone's protection. And it kept her from being tempted to join a brothel. Even if joining a brothel did mean protection, there was pain and unhappiness there from some of the women, and she did not want to be a contributor to that by earning profits for it.

The crowd was starting to disperse now. Great-Comfort leaned against the inn's signpost, feeling a little tired from her dancing.

 

[Nadir-Natesse]

Gosh, it was busy out today... Then again, she remembered, the arena Games had begun shortly after dawn. She reckoned people were milling about taking and placing bets and buying favors that would result in a profit. That really wasn't Natesse's thing, as she was more interested in the men all that bloodshed attracted; she smiled at the thought of spending the night with drunken winners as she hurried through the crowd with purpose. Bundled in her hands were the soiled sheets from the night before. She had opted to sleep in the floor to avoid the disgusting mess, and after applying her spermicidal potion, she had fallen into a deep, happy sleep, curled up in the corner on a bunch of pillows. In the morning, she hurriedly got dressed and headed to The Broken Joint, the arena's number one tavern. Why on Nirn Julius would name it that, she'd never know.

She shoved the heavy doors open and made for the bar. The tavern was surprisingly empty, but then again, it *was* early in the day. A bard plucked lazily at his lute and hummed a song, a local favorite legend, one she was quite tired of hearing about.

"Hmm hmmm-mmm hmmm, the Dragonborn comes..."

She rolled her eyes.

"Hrol, will you ever get tried of singing that silly story? Dragons don't even exist, let alone a person with a dragon's soul..."

"You shouldn't dismiss the legends, lass. They're told with a purpose."

Natesse smiled and rolled her eyes again. Typical Nord. Always ready to believe a story about power and victory... She went on her way, passing by what she assumed as a Imperial solder. He was smoking a pipe and looking quite content; he was probably here for the Games. She eyed him. He was an attractive one for sure, but soldiers made her nervous... She wasn't fond of beding them as they tended to be a little too rough. She approach the bar and greeted Julius. He was quite heavyset and balding; a fact he was very tender about.

"Jul, hi! I was wondering if you'd do me a wee favor..."

She jiggled the bundled sheets and put on her most innocent of smiles. The older man, an Imperial, scowled, but she knew there was nothing behind it; Julius was all bark, no bite.

"Woman, I am not your personal launderer. That's the third time this week!"

She poked her lip out and widened her eye in her best puppy-dog impression.

"Pleeeease, Jul? One more time?"

Julius sighed and took the linen from her, albeit gingerly, like he knew what was nestled inside and didn't want it on him.

"That's what you said Turdas... Ok, Natesse, but honestly, you really should leave this business alone... You're a beautiful, intelligent women. You don't have to do this for a living... It doesn't hurt that you're half Nord, either. Go to Skyrim, open that school of magic you've been harping on about..."

She grinned and leaned against the bar with her chin in her upraised palm.

"I hear the Nords of Skyrim don't take nicely to magic, though. I'm FINE, Julius...I'm good at what I do, and I'm okay with that for now. It's just life. I'm used to it."

"But those men... They don't appreciate you!"

"They're not suppose to. Kinda defeats the purpose of hiring me."

"You deserve better."

"And someday I will have better, but for now, this is the best I can do for myself."

She sat down and placed a hand on the scowling Imperial's. Julius was like a father to Natesse, or as much a father as she would allow; she was quite hard-headed and stubborn. They'd had many heated arguments over her well-being.

"Come on, Pa. Let's share a sweetroll. Sweetrolls make everything better."

 

[solace84]

Dalious couldn't help but to overhear the conversation between the two, gathering enough information to suspect the woman was a whore and the man cared for her like family.
"And what kind of a man could call himself a man if he did not appreciate such a rare beauty?" Dalious suddenly asked, turning toward the locals. "Show me these 'men' and I would gladly make them think differently of themselves."

 

[Nadir-Natesse]

Upon hearing his voice, Natesse turned. It was the soldier who'd spoken. His voice was low and sensual even though she knew he'd not meant for it to be. She smiled at him and Julius, having dropped the soiled sheets in a corner, slammed his hand on the bartop.

"See? Even the warrior Dalius agrees. Surely that accounts for something!"

She turned back to her friend and have him a "you've got to be kidding" look. This man was a soldier and would say anything to seem noble and honest. She felt a jolt in her stomach but quickly dismissed it; the memories were still fresh but letting them resurface was unacceptable. She turned back to Dalius.

"You're too kind sir, but I can fight my own battles, if necessary. This is just my life and if I couldn't handle it, I'd have left it behind in leui of a life in the monestary, chanting all day for a better life from a God that doesn't exist. Given the two options, I think I made the right choice."

She smiled sweetly to show she meant no disrespect. It was just the truth.

------

Sent from my Samsung Galaxy Tab using Tapatalk 2.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

The next morning, Adnirr'ach woke from his restless slumber in the holding chambers. He remembered what the woman, Desiree, had asked of him last night, and what they had agreed to. They agreed that they would meet tonight, in his quarters, after his first fight today. Strangely enough, for the thousand year old vampire, Adnirr'ach found that he could not stop thinking about her.

What has got into you, Adnirr'ach? You are one of the Moartea Distributori Vampire's. A dealer of death and despair to your enemies...yet you're letting this...woman..get to you. However, though he tried to block her out of his mind, he found he could not. Adnirr'ach could also not stop to think about the Game's beggining today. He was itching for a fight, a chance to just rip something apart. He cared little for the entertainment of these patricians, only for the chance to become one day closer to freedom. In fact, the Breton-Dark Elf vampire thought it quite amusing indeed, that these humans could become so entertained by the prospect of slaughter, gore, and violence. Still, he prepared himself, going through his routine of stretches and exercises, before one of the Imperial guards came in.

Coming up to his cell, the guard gruffly asked him, "What will your choice be? You may choose your own helmet, weapon, full armor, or use of magic for this round. Surivive, and you get an additional one to use next round, and so on."

Thinking, Adnirr'ach decided to at least give the crowd an...interesting day. "My tower-helm, if you would," Adnirr'ach replied with a smile. His resiliance to pain, and most things harmful to humans, would be the armor he would need, if only for the first round. His weapons, well, he could win the use of those later on. His black, Death Paladin's tower helmet would protect him from decapitation, one of the few things that could kill him, and would certainly inspire some fear in his near-future combatants. Yes, this will make for a very interesting fight indeed.
Adnirr'ach Da'lae then proceeded to stand, very stoically, nearby the gate, helmet on, waiting for whomever would give the signal for the "Game's" to begin.

 

[solace84]

"I think you made the right choice as well," Dalious said. "And I meant no offense, just could not help over-hearing as my ears wander. Here, shall we drink to fighting our own battles? I currently am preparing for one later in the day...the whiskey keeps me sharp."
Dalious laughed and handed her a shot, then raised his bottle. As he saluted he heard the loud horns blairing all around. The matches had just begun.

 

[Nadir-Natesse]

She took the drink with gratitude, and raised it.

"To fighting your own battles."

Just as she threw it back, she heard the horns blaring. Apparently, things at the arena were getting underway. She wondered if Great-Comfort had had any luck...She hadn't seen her at all this morning. She gazed at the warrior, his fine features burning themselves into her retinas. She felt a warming deep in her belly, but shook it off. No soldiers, she had vowed. Not for a while, anyway.

"I suppose you'll have to run off, now? I will never understand it, this fighting and dying for the entertainment of the rich. If anything, fight and die for yourself."

She ran a finger over the rim of her glass, then put the digit to her mouth, running her tongue over it.

"Although... I can't deny I enjoy seeing all the strong combatants in all they're glory..."

~I'm just flirting...Flirting was okay~, she rationalized.

 

[solace84]

"And that's just it...glory," he said, knowing she meant something else by it. "Some fight because they are forced to, others...for glory. If I see you again, then know that this was a good day for me."
He chugged the rest of his bottle of whiskey and then threw a bag of coins on the table for the bartender. He smiled, then left through the door.

 

[Simus]

Alice woke up to a bright light and a splitting headache. The first thing she noticed was how stiff she was. She felt as if her entire body was made of wood, taking every effort to move even a single finger. The second thing she noticed was she was stark naked under the sheets she was apparently tucked into. Where was she? How long was she out? Where was everyone else? Her sister? Her brothers? Her mother...?

Her mother! She remembered where she was! The Thalmor had ambushed them in the mountains outside Bruma. Her father was incapacated trying to lead them out of the ambush. Her mother was dead. Struck down by an aldmeri sword. Several admeri swords. Alice and her sister tried everything they could to save their mother's life. Every bandage, every healing spell, every potion, every first aid skill they knew. Nothing worked. They all had to run when their parents went down. All in different directions. She didn't see where any of her siblings went or where her father was. Or if he was even alive for that matter. That meant Alice was alone.

okay, don't panic. You have no idea where you are or how you got here. For all you know, dad's alive and well

A man approached her, but it was not her father. It was a Dunmer, clad in the robes of the faith. he walked toward her with a small smile under his hood and soft ruby eyes.

"I see you've woken up." He said to Alice "That's good to see, you gave us quite a scare when we brought you in."

Alice still didn't know where she was, but she clearly remembered the terror she felt when she was last conscious "Brought me in...? Mara's mercy, you're not with the Thalmor are you! Please! Please don't kill me! You've already take my mo-"

"Shhhhhhh. Be at ease my child." the Dunmer said, placing both of his cool hands into one of Alice's. "You're safe now. My name is Erendur, and I am a servant of Mara. I found you up in the Jerral Mountains barely alive. I brought you back here to the temple in the Imperial City and I've been watching over you since. That was two daya ago. We were able to save your life and you've been asleep since then."

"You mean the Imprial City?" asked Alice, still out of it but gaining more awereness with every passing moment. "Divines have mery, I've got to get out of here! You found me in those mountains because were were fleeing FROM the Imperial City! The Thalmor BURNT OUR HOUSE DOWN! It was all my family and I could do to get out! Why in Oblivion would you bring me BACK?!"

Erendur became concerned at this. If this child was in danger and it was his fault, he should be responsable for her. "What is your name my child?"

"Alice. Alice Marie Psyrakon."

"And your parents are Simus and Amy Psyrakon?"

"Yes." She said. "Do you know where my father is? If so, please tell me!" She pleaded.

"I'm sorry." Erendur said "I don't know where you father or any of your siblings are. You were all I found Alice."

"No." Alice said, tears welling up as the full loss of the situation hit her "Please...no." His alien but kind red eyes told her he was indeed telling the truith. Her entire family was either missing or dead. Her world was gone and she had no one to cry with. The dunmer wrapped his arms around her and she fell apart. She sobbed into his chest for several minutes while he comforted her as best he could.

"Im so sorry Alice." Erandur said, holding her close with one hand and stroking her beautiful ebony hair with the other. " I know nothing I say can relieve you of your pain but please know this: Half of Cyrodiil knows what happened to your family and many of that number owed your father some sort of debt or favour. The men responsable for your loss have met an...untimely death. It is a terrible thing for Mara's childrien to kill each other in vengance, but you may at least take comfort in the fact that your pursuers shall haunt you no more."

"How can you possibly say that?!" Alice sobbed. "Those men will haunt me in my dreams forever!" She took a deep breath and remembered that this man was only trying to help her. "Mara's mercy I'm so sorry. I know you're trying to comfort me and I'm a terrible human being to snap at you for it." The sobbing became too much for her to talk.

"It's all right." Erendur said, continuing to stroke her hair. "No one so young as you should lose so wonderful a mother." He casted a calm spell on Alice and that helped. She was no happier but was able to stop crying.

"Where are my clothes?" She asked in a flat, empty voice.

"Over here, in this drawer. I had them cleaned and pressed while you were asleep. I'll step out for a moment if you'd like to change."

Alice nodded, and he stepped out to give her some privacy. She climbed into her leather armour and zipped it up to the collar. It felt good having the form fitting bodysuit cover her so completely. As if it were a shield against her new dispair. She then pulled on and buttoned up the pale blue dress she always wore over it, along with her leather boots and gloves.

"You can come in now." Alice called. Erendur promptly stepped back in, leaving the door to her room open. "I'm hungry." She said "Is there a place I can get something to eat?"

"There's a tavern right across the street actually. It's The broken Joint. They have good food and cold ale. I suspect you could use both." Erendur said, handing her a small bag of septims. "And here, take this. Don't worry about paying me back: after all you've been through the least I can do is buy your lunch."

"Thank you for your kindness." Alice said, trying her best to sound grateful despite feeling only sadness.

"It's not a problem." Erendur said "I'd go with you, but the games started today and there are many slaves in demand of my services."

"Is that so?" Alice asked. Less than a weed ago her father and brothers were ecstatic for the games starting up again. They were all probably dead now. "Well, thank you anyway."

Alice left the temple with Erendur's promise that she would get her gear back provided she stayed there that night. Considering she no longer had a place to live, Alice didn't object. The tavern was indeed across the street, but as she crossed, the calm spell keeping her tears in check wore off and they began flowing again. She passed by an Imperial soldier leaving the tavern, whom she foolishly looked at with tears running down her face as she thanked him for holding the door for her. Danm her manners to Oblivion. Now that man knew how vulnerable she was. She entered the tavern, sat down at the bar and ordered the biggest and strongest ale availible. She really didn't like to drink, but figured now was a very good time to do so. After taking a few sips of the bitter and calming liquid, she started simply crying into it, unconcerned that all eyes in the establishemt were upon her.

 

[Nadir-Natesse]

She watched him go. A steadfast fellow, it seemed. She sighed, and toyed distractedly with her empty glass. Soldier or not, she bet he'd be a joy to put to bed... She looked around to find Julius giving her a disapproving look. Uh oh.

"What? What??"

"I saw that. The way you looked at him."

He grabbed the coinpurse off the counter and, after counting out some of the septims, put it under the counter. He shoved the money at Natesse, though his face did not change expression.

"Tess, don't do this to yourself. Not again."

"I'm not in love with him, Jul..."

She raked the coin into her hand and dropped it in the purse strapped tight to her bodice. She had long since stopped arguing with the man about giving her money for nothing; he didn't like it when she offered things in return, and not just sex; Natesse felt more for Julius than that. She offered to even work for him, bringing in more men for his drink and food. He had declined. She was not going to exploit herself for his personal gain. As ridiculous as she thought that was, she'd dropped the subject.

"I know you're not but no matter what you say, you have a soft spot for soldiers."

"And? I know better than to let another one steal my heart..."

She absentmindedly touched her stomach. Although she couldn't physically feel it with her bodice on, in her minds eye she could still the raised flesh, mutilated from the scar... She always tried her best to cover it with flesh-colored pastes and illusion magic, but truth was nothing could hide the pain that came with it. She shook her head. A young woman had entered, her eyes spilling over with tears. Natesse wondered what was wrong but had her own set of issues to deal with at the time. Still...

"Thanks for the help, Julius. I'll be back for my bedding later. I have errands to run. If you see Comfort, tell her I will come by her room later tonight. Oh, and here, take this and give that young woman whatever she needs... I will be back later."

She dropped the coin he'd just given her back on the bartop and left. Outside, she couldn't decide where to go first. It was so busy and she hated shopping in a crowd. She thought she'd make her way to the arena, if only to see what a;; the buzz was about... However, since she wasn't going to be working, she needed to change. She stopped back by the inn and switched out her dress for a shirt, some some pants, and her leather boots. This was actually a set of armor, enchanted by herself. Each piece was fitted, not skintight, but close enough and made out of deep brown leather, almost black ((think something like the Dark Brotherhood armor, but as two separate articles of clothing)). She tucked her dagger behind her back into a hidden sheathe and headed out.

Although the games had begun, it was still quite a bit of people milling about. She hustled her way through the crowd quickly, but not in too much haste. She wasn't sure she'd like what she saw, anyway. She wondered about the young girl. Why was she here alone? She didn't seem to be at all happy about being here... Was she a slave meant to fight unwillingly in these games? Natesse stopped and looked back at the tavern, debating on going back. It wasn't really her way to butt into the affairs of others, but something was different about this girl...

She decided to go on. What harm could it do? She pushed her way back into the building. Julius was no longer at the bar. He was no doubt tending to her laundry. The girl was still there though, crying into her drink. Natesse approached her.

"You look lonley. May I sit?"