Private The invasion of the Damned

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    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    The Dragons are gone, the Stormcloaks are destroyed, and the Imperials have taken full control.
    Finally peace is in Skyrim once more, and the Imperials Empire can rebuild themselves.
    But then, a hole family is murdered. A father, mother and child all killed.
    Then worshippers of the Nine Divines begin to preach of doom and domination.
    They say that Peryite and Molag Bal seek to destroy the mortals of Nirn.
    No one believed them, much like no one believed of the Dragons return.
    Then more than just the family were being killed. Men stained in blood ran to the Jarls.
    They said that something raised from the dead, and attacked them. Always the same
    attack, always in a graveyard. Always the same fear in the eyes of the victims.
    The Brotherhood of Witchers are then recruited by a Jarl, a messenger is sent
    to the Brotherhoods place of sleeping on top of a high mountain opposite of the Throat of the World.
    They must investigate the murders, find the reasoning behind the attack.
    And it is then, that the world of men. Fear for their lives once more.
    Elder-Scrolls-5-Skyrim-Screenshot-Draugr.jpg
     

    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    Geran entered the newly built headquarters, made for the Brotherhood. He was impressed, it stood as high at 20 feet and as wide as Dragonreach castle. The banners of the brotherhood stood all over the building, floating in the cold air. As he entered the buildings with his comrades the first thing they noticed was the length of the hall, it was truly a loving building. He smiled and began to look around the rooms.
    The first room he checked was the room for all the Witchers and lower ranks, it was large, containing many average sized single beds and a chest at the end for the gear they carried.
    He then looked at the rooms for the Lesser Masters They were average size rooms with double beds, a desk, a chest and a mannequin for their armor.
    Geran then walked to his room, it was stunning. A large window at the back, a nice king size bed with a dragon skull behind it.
    Two mannequins, a large chest, a desk and a few other things of not must significance.
    If it wasn't for the Jarls of Skyrim to support him the Brotherhood would still be in scattered buildings, but now they all shared the same room.

    Geran then walked back to the hall and approached the training room, a Orc stood their, probably for sparring. He had a quarters right next to the training room. Their were many weapons, a tactical map and lots of wooden men for practicing how to strike with whatever weapon you favored. Geran introduced the men to all their rooms, introducing his good friend Cyrus to his room. He was impressed and Geran was glad.
    He then walked back to the dining room and ordered a feast to be prepared. It was then he would make an announcement for the Brotherhood.
    But for now Geran was tired, he walked to his room and put on his fine clothes, they were much more comfortable than the leather armor he always had worn for years on end.
    As he was changing a maid walked in, she walked in quietly then stared at Geran, the scars covering his body. He turned to face the maid ''What is it?'' she hesitated then replied ''No.....nothing. The food is preparing now, would you like wine or ale?'' Geran thought for a moment ''Both, were not just having members of the brotherhood here tonight, but the Jarl of Whiterun. Make it civilized, and go tell the men and women.''
    Geran then finished putting on his clothes and placed a dagger under his trousers, sheathed and hidden. If someone made an attempt on his life he would at least have some defense, apart from all the members of the Brotherhood. Geran then sat down and waited for the food to be prepared.
     

    cazzer14

    Guess who's back...
    Wonderful. Truly beautiful. These were the thoughts going around Cyrus' mind as he witnessed the completed headquarters for the first time. Geran led the way, giving all of the members of the Brotherhood a tour of the several rooms in the establishment. Each was pristine, clean and fresh. Cyrus couldn't believe that only a few months ago Geran had approached him at a seedy inn in Riften, where the only luxuries he knew were clean mugs, a litre of ale per night and a freshly-cleaned bed every other day.

    Now, he had a entire castle, a whole fortress full of fine food, comfortable furniture and several servants to do all of the labour for them. It was huge, larger than the Dawnguard's fort in the South East, more massive that Ysgramor's Palace in Windhelm, more impressive than Dragonsreach in the city of Whiterun. The dining table was expansive, large enough to seat at least 50 people, with cutlery and dry food already set at the table, awaiting the rest of tonight's introductory feast to be prepared. The construction of the fortress wouldn't have been made possible without funding from the Jarls of Skyrim, who had invested in the Brotherhood's formation, out of fear of the undead slaughter, out of the need for protection from the forces of darkness. Before the support, the Brotherhood were merely coping in wooden huts and small buildings. Now, they were based in perhaps the most luxurious base in all of Tamriel, certainly all of Skyrim.

    Cyrus was shown to his room by his comrade, now his superior in the ranks of the newly-formed Brotherhood. Inside, there lay a double bed, a desk across from it, with a chest and a mannequin serving as furniture to decorate the chamber. Paintings hung off the wall, decorative lamps and other trinkets lined up the space in the room, without making it cluttered. Impressed, and thoroughly pleased of his fortunes, Cyrus crossed his arms and turned to Geran with a huge, satisfied grin on his face.

    Not only had he got himself a room, but Cyrus had also attained the title of 'Lesser Master' from his friend. The rank of 'Master' made him feel old, he didn't feel like a wise, experienced individual that a 'master' should be, but he'll take the responsibility gladly. The lower ranks and recruits would look up to him for leadership and guidance, and he needed to show such attributes. Although he had always been a lone wolf type of character, and in his bandit clan, everyone was seen as equals, he felt he was ready to lead, to be an officer to the soldiers in this war against dark forces. He needed to be.

    Cyrus gave his friend a gesture for him to leave him in his room, and Geran obliged, moving onto his own room, which would presumably be much more impressive than his own. He strolled over to the bed, large enough to sleep two or three people, or an entire Horker, and collapsed onto it, and let out a relieved sigh. He closed his eyes and relaxed, enjoying the comfort of the soft bed. His serenity was disturbed by a knock on the door. The maid peeked through the doorframe as she opened it, when Cyrus gave her a polite gesture to speak, she said;

    "Lord Geran has asked me to inform all of the members that the Jarl of Whiterun will be attending the feast tonight." She gave a warm smile after she had finished speaking. Whether out of a genuine friendly personality or if it was a necessity of her occupation was, Cyrus couldn't tell. Hmph, Lord Geran, Cyrus mentally chuckled at the thought.

    "I guess I'd better put on something more eloquent then. Thank you." Cyrus returned her warm smile, but his was of actual pleasantness, instead of a forced attitude. He stripped down and removed his armour and found some more respectable clothes to wear. He treated this posh room like some teenage dormitory, and dumped his clothes and possessions around the room where he deemed fit, and the bed was covered in assortments of items. Out of anything else to do, he ventured out of the door and began to wander around the fortress and pass the time until dinner was ready.
     

    MissingOne123

    whats this
    Ambrosia had walked into her quarters skeptically, her good eye narrowed accusingly at the servant who had shown her to her room. Straighten up, she circled the room, eyeing the beds lined up against the wall. She chose the one on the far end of the room, sitting down carefully and patting the mattress. It wasn't the sturdiest nor the most comfortable. Not that she had expected much. She was new to the guild, and still gaining their trust and respect, which was fine.

    Finally having a place to rest her head that was her own bed was an achievement in itself, for before joining the ranks of the brotherhood she never stayed in one place for long. She would rent small, rundown rooms in various inns, only to be driven out at sword-point when she revealed she didn't have the funds to pay. If she had a gold piece for every night she went without sleeping, there would be a good chance she'd be one of the wealthiest in Skyrim.

    "This is it?" It came out harsher than she had intended, though she made no attempt at correcting herself. The servant jumped at her sudden words, having been easily distracted by the various weaponry hanging proudly on the walls. Ambrosia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and watching him expectantly.

    "Yes, this is it. Enjoy your stay. Im sure you wont last long." Their words were equally harsh until she stood up, arching an eyebrow and bearing her teeth, daring him to try again as she threatened to reach for her sword, though only she knew there would be no blood spilt- Wouldn't want to dirty the floors. "L- Lord Geran would li- like for you to know the Jarl of Whiterun will be joining you all for dinner, s- so dress accordingly." With that, the pitiful servant turned on his heel and scurried out of the room before Ambrosia could say another word.

    Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she turned back towards her bed and tilted her head. Crouching down at the chest, she easily pushed open the top and began placing various useless things that had accumulated in her bag from her travels, careful not to let go of anything of worth in fear there might be a thief among them.

    Once she had finished, Ambrosia stood up and gathered her nicest dress and a pair of boots in her arms. Couldn't go wearing rags to a meal with the Jarl, could she?
     

    meben15

    Lord of the Meeblings
    Jaygue trailed along behind Geran and the rest as the entered into the new hall of the witchers. He looked at the impresive interior with the same glum, emotionless stare he gave everthing. When Geran showed him his room Jaygue went inside without a word. It was not unusual, ever since he had joined the brotherhood Jaygue had said very little to anyone, keeping to himself. Despite this his skill in battle, as well as his expertise in magic earned him some respect.

    As he surveyed the room he had been asigned he nodded his head slightly in aproval. It was sparse and simple, just the way he liked it. He went over and layed down on the bed, looking up to the dark stone cieling, deep in thought. It seemed he had finally found a place that he would stay for some time, at least the witchers gave him a purpose, something to fight for. Half of him didn't want this, thinking that this place was to good for him and he should not contaminate others with his dark, cursed presence.

    He was inturupted by one of the maids, she knocked hesitantly on his door. When Jaygue turned his cold grey eyes to regard her, she squirmed and turned almost as pale as Jaygue himself was.
    "umm.... Ger-Geran said to tell you that the, ummm... Jarl is coming to dinner tonight- and ummm.... you should wear you best cloths." She got the last part out in a rush and quickly turned, almost runing away down the hall.

    Jaygue shook his head, returning to his thoughts. So the Jarl was coming, Jaygue didn't really care. He didn't care if the High king was coming for Dinner, it wouldn't effect the way he dressed. But he did respect Geran, so he decided he should atleast make an atempt to look decent. He didn't want Geran to be embaressed of his own witcher. He spent the remaining hours polishing the links of his ebony chainmail and meditating. When dinnertime came, he got up, walking into the main hall.
     

    MissingOne123

    whats this
    Ambrosia had long since finished changing into her fine clothes, and had spent the rest of the time before dinner hunched over a book. She looked somewhat interested, her brows furrowed and her chin resting thoughtfully between two fingers.

    She glanced up at the wall and squinted at a nearby clock, straining to make out the blurred numbers behind dirty glass. Dinner would be served soon, and being late was obviously not the best idea. She stood up and with a long sigh, put away her book, and made her way down various hallways until she reached the dinning room.
     

    lbrasz44

    Member
    Thorral followed Geran as he had guided the Nord as well as a group of people through the headquarters. Upon seeing the place, Thorral couldn't but smirk a little and thinks This place looks cozy enough. At least its better than camping outside in the damn cold all the time. Looking at the tables, large amounts of food and bottles of ale just sitting on top just waiting to be consumed. Thorral was distracted by this revelation of having the first decent amount of luxury available to him in months for a little while and before he knew it, he was shown to his own quarters by a servant.

    Looking down at the man and thanking him, he has to bend his 6'5 frame in order to get past the doorway and enter his room. "Guess some things never change." chuckles the large man as he goes to lie on his new bed.

    It was hard to believe that no more than 48 hours ago, he was out in the wild hunting animals, sleeping on bed rolls in a secluded area or some straw filled or stone made bed at the inn, but then this man came to him one day and introduced himself-

    Thorral's thoughts were then interrupted by a knock. "Yes?" Says Thorral with a slight hint of annoyance when the servant came.

    "There will be a dinner tonight and the Jarl of Whiterun will be present, be sure to dress appropriatly."

    "Sure." Jarl Balgruuf has ties to this? Should be interesting. And with that, Thorral returns to inside to his room and begins to prepare.

    (Just to clear thing up, in my posts the white will be what Thorral says, the blue for his thoughts and the light purple for npc's :D )
     

    Skyrimosity

    Well-Known Member
    It has been a year now.
    It was approximately one year ago when Edwyn first encountered the Witchers. He was in a cave exploring when hordes of undead zombies began to swarm him. He saw a group of evil Necromancers in the back of the room admiring their work. Haha, hilarious. Edwyn slashed and maneuvered his way about, taking down a dozen zombies but they continuously advanced. Edwyn was backed against a corner when the Witchers charged into the cave and killed all the undead in a beautiful series of attacks. The Necromancers were easily killed without the zombies protecting them. Edwyn approached the leader whose name was Geran. Through some talking, Edwyn was allowed membership into the Witchers. And that's what started his journey.​
    Killing countless undead next to Geran and the others, Edwyn rose through the Guild ranks. About a month ago he was promoted to Lesser Master and he long strived to one day be the Guild Master. But only should Geran die. Edwyn found it ironic that he was a Necromancer who once practiced raising the undead, but no longer. He would only ever conjure Atronachs, never raise the dead. He had changed much in the year with the Witchers but he was only sure he wanted to kill the undead that creep around Skyrim's caves.​
    Now, Edwyn was in his room. He was sitting in his bed pondering his life when a girl opened the door. Edwyn popped up straight and immediately set a smile upon his face, as he often did when around other people. He always wanted to at least appear happy, no matter how thin the ruse may be.​
    "Lord Geran has asked me to inform all of the members that the Jarl of Whiterun will be attending the feast tonight."
    The Jarl? Haven't seen him in years. Wonder what he could want with the Witchers. Bah, probably no big deal. Just wants to check up on how we are doing in this new castle of ours. I preferred the inns myself, loved the noise of it all. Kept me distracted.
    Edwyn dismissed the girl and put on the rest of his Fur Armor. He never wanted to wear anything else, the fur armor kept him warm and he loved the stuff. He once was talking to a guard who said it was smart to wear light armor, it'd keep him light on his feet. Edwyn was glad then that at least one person in Skyrim agreed. Edwyn was ready and slowly began walking to the dining room, never wanting to be late.
     

    cazzer14

    Guess who's back...
    Cyrus paced around the over-sized hallways, with a sense of uncharacteristic authority. As he passed the initiate's barracks, he couldn't help but have a smug smile as the lesser ranks saluted him with their fists across their chests, so their knuckles touched the shoulder blades. Their acknowledgement and saluting of his presence were all proud and respectful, and it made him feel important inside, dignified.

    On the corridor, Cyrus passed Edywn. He'd known him for a while, a young upstart who the Witchers had found in some cave infested with Necromancers. Once he talked his way into initiating into the guild, he had quickly proved himself to the point where he had become Cyrus' equal in rank. He got on well with the Breton, even though their shared rightful claim to leadership if something happened to Geran should provoke a rivalry between them.

    As they came within speaking distance of each other, Cyrus greeted him with a nod, and a friendly call of his name. Noticing that he was heading to the dining hall wearing full Fur Armour, Cyrus halted his stroll to question Edwyn of his apparel;
    "Edwyn, you do know the Jarl of Whiterun will be attending the feast tonight? And you're wearing fur armour? I know all of this fancy dressage isn't all that pleasant, but it doesn't hurt to make an effort."

    His words were light-hearted and fun-poking, and the way he said them made this obvious to interpret. Edwyn wasn't the type to be angered or irritated easily, unlike some of the members.
     

    R'alle

    young but able
    R'alle entered the huge Headquarters. He found him self purring quietly as he looked at the ceiling. He followed the head master as he showed the group all of the rooms. He took off his black leather tunic and his ragged shirt. He brushed his hand over his Namira Tattoo. It's been months since he last saw Lyssa. He missed her. He released his claws and outlined his tattoo with the tip. His claws were thick now. He enjoyed catching prey in them.He put on his only pair of nice clothes. They were black and green noble robes. He remembered the family Lyssa said she killed. She brought him the robes as a present.He walked out to see the head master. He was a nord, he had a scar on his left eye. R'alle had to look up at him, sometimes he hated being short but others he thanked Namira for it.

    He followed the leader to the dining table. His stomach growled loudly. He was starving he knew he wouldn't be able to eat his usual diet.
     

    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    Geran walked to the Dining room, R'alle following behind him.
    Geran and R'alle had known each over for some time, Geran first met R'alle when he was hunting out in the fields. Geran admired as the Khajiit merely used his claws to kill the beast, sinking them into the Deer's flesh.
    The one thing that had always annoyed Geran is he had a tatoo of Namira on his breast, and as Meridia was their Patron this didn't win any contests with Geran, but R'alle was capable. That was the reason why he was one of his most elite, a Witcher within the Brotherhood.
    As Geran walked members of the Guild saluted him, annoyingly for them only Members and above could join at the table, were as recruits were to stay training with the Orc in the training room.
    Geran then came across Edwyn and Cyrus, they were chatting, Geran merely walked past them saying nothing but Cyrus saw Geran and saluted him, Edwyn following him.

    Geran then carried on his walk and approached the maid who was ordered to inform the members, she bowed to Geran and then Geran spoke ''Have you informed the men of the Jarls presence here this fine evening?'' Geran spoke softly ''Yes, everyone has been informed Lord Geran'' Geran nooded and carried his walk reaching the Dining room.
    Their was roughly 60 chairs, enough to house the hole of the Brotherhood, and that was good since surely the Jarl would come with his adviser, bodyguard and a few men.
    Geran was anxious, he walked to his chair, at the end of the table and began deciding were the men would sit.
    He quickly decided that Cyrus and Edwyn would sit next to him on the sides. He would then have the Jarl and his men sit next to Cyrus, and then all the rest of the ranks descending from rank leading right to the bottom of the table where the members would sit.

    Geran's chair was cushioned, unlike the mens chairs which were more rough and Warlike. But still Gerans would very Barbarian looking, and that's how Geran liked it.
    It was mad to think that a Jarl was visiting them, perhaps he merely wanted to know his money was well spent.
    The thought that really dazed Geran was the fact that only days ago, the Brotherhood was at camp, drinking beer, having fights and singing campfire songs. Although this would be missed by all members, everyone truly respected the civilized Castle that had been built for them.
    The Maids began preparing the table, placing the hot food, surely the Jarl would be here soon.
    Geran then shouted at the top of his voice ''Get your arses here boys, the food is ready and we await the Jarl.''
    The Maids would show everyone to their seats once they entered. Geran hoped that everything would be ready before the Jarl arrived.

    Geran then sat, a maid pouring his wine. He rested, and took a swig of the Wine before the meal.
    Once the Jarl arrived, and everyone was sat he would prepare his toast.
    Thinking what to say in his head. If he could gain yet more favor with the Jarl he would surely be heading his way to becoming one, but to be fair that was and un-realistic goal, and Geran knew it was so.
    Geran rolled his shoulders and looked around.
    Lovely paintings, artistic structures, amazing statues and great food.
    What more could a man such as Geran ask for? His very own castle and guild was enough for him to last a lifetime!
     

    Skyrimosity

    Well-Known Member
    "Edwyn, you do know the Jarl of Whiterun will be attending the feast tonight? And you're wearing fur armour? I know all of this fancy dressage isn't all that pleasant, but it doesn't hurt to make an effort."

    "Of course I know Cyrus. But I don't want people to see a fake me, all dressed up in uncomfortable clothing. I want people to see what I always wear and that I have no shame for wearing it." Edwyn had a big smile on his face, his hunger thinking of the glorious feast.

    They arrived in the dining room as the maid showed them to their seats. Cyrus had a seat on the left of Geran, Edwyn had a seat on the right. Edwyn and Cyrus were equal in rank so there was always a sort of rivalry among them. Edwyn sort of figured that if Geran should be near death he would appoint who would then lead the guild but Edwyn often worried that Geran may be too stubborn to accept his death and that Cyrus and Edwyn would have to decide themselves. They took their seats and looked upon the feast of fruit and cooked meats. Edwyn loved the fruits of Skyrim and his mouth was near watering.
     

    cazzer14

    Guess who's back...
    Cyrus smiled at Edwyn's stubbornness to display nothing but himself to everybody. He's the type to speak his mind to anyone, no matter who they were. If the Emperor were to annoy him in the slightest way, he'd tell him to stuff his crown jewels where even Skeevers wouldn't go. Cyrus had to admire his pride.

    They matched pace with each other as they approached their seat at the top end of the dining table. They were at the respective right and left hand sides of Geran. Cyrus wondered who would be seated next to him, and so he promptly asked his friend and superior;
    "So who's sitting next to me and Edwyn?"
    As he spoke, he sat himself down. The chair was wooden and polished so it shone and reflected the light of the candles on the tabletop and the ceiling. It was comfortable, but probably not as comfortable as Geran's seat looked, the exclusive cushions on his looked so soft. Cyrus turned his attention to the food on the table. Delicacy and culinary excellence lined the wooden surface. Not just the best tastes Skyrim had to offer, but also fine Cyrodiilian and High Rock cuisine accompanied Nordic stews and venison steaks.

    Ale, brandy and fine wine were ready to be served with the meals, Slaughterfish and Salmon fresh from the Karth River were visible, along with Cyrodiilian salads, Dawnstar prawns, Falkreath Wellington, Daggerfall Roasts to name but a few luxurious servings available. Tonight was sure to be a feast to remember, and certainly one to savour.
     

    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    Geran drank the rest of his wine and ordered more for himself and his Lesser Masters.
    ''You Cyrus, shall be seated next to the Jarl, and the rest of the Brotherhood descending down both sides. I figured your more the one for Ceromony, take no offence Edwyn. Now this is a important day, I wish for you to behave as well as possible in front of the Jarl. Speak to him, keep him company, but leave him to eat. If he asks you a question answer. I will be keeping track of what you do today, and I both know who are rivals. So whoever is the best today will have my current favor for becoming the Guild Master, when I die. Now please have wine boys''
    The rest of the Brotherhood began to enter, the food was ready but it was not touched, so was the way of the Brotherhood. They could not touch the food until their superior did.
    The brotherhood was almost all here, a couple of seats lay empty, and most of the Witchers seats were empty, perhaps they were getting ready.

    Geran then looked over, everyone was almost here, the Brotherhood could ponder and chat for a while.
    As they all did he spoke with Cyrus and Edwyn, his two most trusted friends and allies.
    Geran had met Cyrus during his young ages, they were both members of the same clan. Cyrus was accused of murdering their leader but Geran knew it was not the case, several years after Cyrus leaving Geran left, killing all in his path. After his service in the mines and him escaping he was drinking at the tavern, it was then that he saw Cyrus. He was so shocked, and instantly their bond of friendship began once more.
    Edwyn, the story of meeting him was slightly different.
    Geran and his most trusted witchers were on a contract to wipe out an entire Draugr ruin, as they did they came across Edwyn, surrounded by the undead.
    The Witchers charged, destroying the undead and the Necromancers, then Edwyn bribed his way into the Brotherhood, and he rised up the ranks until becoming the rival of Cyrus.
    Although secretly Geran favored Cyrus, he would be leaving his Guild to the better master, not the better friend. They were both fine members, and Geran was glad they were here with him.
     

    Skyrimosity

    Well-Known Member
    Edwyn talked to Guildmaster Geran as the other members began to come in.
    'Tis a bit weird to decide who has the upper hand in the inheritance of such a strong guild through a dinner party, but none the less I shall have my best smile on and be very talkative. Edwyn began to smile and make small-talk with the various members who came into the dining room. He actually very much enjoyed talking to all the members of the Guild. All the different back-stories, the many different tales of being a Witcher, they were all very exciting. Edwyn thought Geran to be a very tough person so he sure did not expect the man to pass away anytime soon. Still, it didn't hurt to be on his best behavior. And he had developed a sort of friendship-rivalry with Cyrus, if Cyrus were to inherit the Guild Edwyn would remain a very loyal member to the end. Where's the Jarl? I'm starved.
     

    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    Geran sat for abit, then he heard a knock on the door, he instantly stood ''Boys get in your seats, it's the Jarl'' Everyone got to their positions to greet the Jarl.
    A seat for his Adviser, bodyguard and himself had been saved next to Cyrus.
    Geran stood, his glass of wine in his right hand. A maid opened the door, and it was indeed the Jarl, he walked in with his bodyguard firmly beside him. A nord, carrying a battle-axe and full steel plate armor.
    And then the skinny adviser walked in, he had the smirk that really made Geran want to beat him, but he quickly dismissed the thoughts from his mind.

    ''Greetings Jarl Balgruuf the Greater approaches, great leader of Whiterun and most trusted friend! How fair thee!'' the Jarl smiled and walked up to the stairs, the entire brotherhood stood as they waited for the Jarl to take his seat.
    ''I am good my friend, thank-you for the invitation, please sit.'' The members then sat at the table, you could see that everyone was hungry, even the Jarl was craving the food.
    Geran walked to the Jarl amd gave him brotherly hug, a normal introduction in the Barbarian tradition. One that the Brotherhood followed. Geran kept a smile and led the Jarl to his seat, Geran then sat himself and ordered the food to be dished.
    ''So how was your journey friend?'' Geran asked politely, staring at the food everyone craved to tuck into.
    ''Good, came across a bandit, but he was dealt with. I see you may good use of my money'' the Jarl smiled, it was very un-convincing but he meant well ''Yes we did, we cannot say how much we thank-you, now let's tuck in''

    Geran sat and took his knife and fork, sinking the fork into the meat, the gravy pouring down. He then cut a part of the lush meat with his knife, it was then that Geran relized the quality of the meat.
    He took a bite and ate slowly, savoring the flavor in his mouth. He then took at Edwyn, smiling as he tuck in. Then looked down the table and realized everyone truly was loving the food, for a few moments no one spoke on the table.
    Geran continued to eat ''The wine is delicious, the meat is amazing, and the building is stunning. What more can a man ask for!'' Geran said in a raised voice, smiling and taking a gulp of mead.
    He then stared at Cyrus for a moment, hinting for him to speak to the Jarl.
     

    R'alle

    young but able
    R'alle chuckled at Geran's remark. He thought to himself You may be a man but I'm a predator.
    R'alle sat quietely not touching his food. He only eats what he kills or hunts. after a few minutes he found it unbearable. He took a bite out of the meat and frowned. Cooked. He looked at Geran. He didn't want to disrespect him. Honestly he couldn't care less about the Jarl. The man was handed everything from the beginning. R'alle noticed his glass of wine. He never had wine before in his whole life. He looked around to see if anyone was going to stop him or take it away from him. He took a sip and loved the taste. He drank the whole cup greedily. He looked around and saw that the other's wine glasses were still halfway full. He then burped. "Excuse me." R'alle then got up went to his room. He decided he will eat when the Jarl leaves. He wanted raw meat and he knew the Jarl will see him as a beast. But in truth he's a predator.
     

    meben15

    Lord of the Meeblings
    Jaygue slid quietly into the great hall as the feast was about to comence. He took his seat, glancing around at the other witchers. He never talked to the other except when he had to, and even then as little as possible. As Geran talked to the two lesser masters, Cyrus and Edwyn, Jaygue watched them with little interest. They seemed to be talking about guild sucession. Jaygue didn't care for such things, he found politics and politness to be a waste of time and energy. Both the lesser masters seemed to take it seriously however.

    When Jarl Balgruff entered Jaygue did not get up. He had no respect for the suposed leaders of kingdoms and holds. The only reason he followed Geran was because they shared a common purpose and Jaygue respected his combat prowess.

    As they ate, Jaygue picked at his food. It was supposed to be very good but he couldn't tell the diference between it and ash. It was like that with all food for him. He ate only because he needed it to live. As the conversation grew boring, Jaygue amused himself by watching the the young Khajiit boy, R'alle. He seemed not to like the food put before him. When R'alle excused himself, Jaygue was content to sit, staring off into space.
     

    Mini Mongo

    Drog Do Faal Mongonite Lahvu
    Geran had just finished his meal and he was starting to feel abit drunk, and stopped drinking. It was a weapon, used to turn men and weaken them, and Geran was always cautious with who he drunk. And who he calls friend.
    Geran then tilted his head to the Jarl and Cyrus ''Please excuse me, I have some guild matters to attend to. Cyrus and Edwyn follow me.'' Geran then stood and walked towards Jaygue, who was his most trusted witcher ''Come on, I need you.'' Geran then led them to his room, and then pulled a candlestick opening up the wall to a secret room.
    It was of fair size, about 3/4 of his actual room. Geran led them in and closed the door behind him, locking it with his key.

    ''This my friends, is are war room. To avoid spies we will host anything to do with contracts and politics in here. Jaygue as I know you bore of politics and more are a man of action don't worry about attending the meetings, but do attend the rest.'' He then turned facing Cyrus and Edwyn ''And you guys must attend all, unless of course injured.'' he said as he was looking at Cyrus and Edwyn, then carried on speaking ''And I do have a matter to discuss with you all, please take a seat.''
    Geran then seated at his chair, it was obvious it was his as two menacing looking spikes came off it.
    The table itself was stone, with a red cloth and the Brotherhood's symbol within the middle.
    The room was boring, it was only stone, with the table and chairs of 4. Their were candlestick to light the room, and at the end stood the guild patron's statue, Meridia. Everyone within the Brotherhood respected her.
    Whether because they did worship her like Geran, or if they followed Geran and respected his ways was not off matter.
    All Witchers had came into a deal with Meridia, to serve her to their dying breath, much like they had with Geran. And if they hold to their deal, Meridia rewards them, and so does Geran.

    Geran sat looking at the room, it was plain and boring but he did not need more. He had specially requested the room to be made by his most trusted servant, although it added great length to the building of the HQ it definitely would add the effect.
    Geran awaited his comrades to seat, a very urgent matter had rose up and he could only trust Cyrus, Edwyn and Jaygue to see more into the matters for now.
    Although he trusted the rest of the group with his life, Cyrus, Edwyn and Jaygue and been with him the longest, and he knew he could rely on them.
     

    lbrasz44

    Member
    Thorral finally got a better look at the dining hall when he changed into more respectable clothing and was shown to his seat by a servant. The hall was lit up by candles and huge chandelier that hangs from from the ceiling, 20 ft above. The tables was overflowing with food that had brought the Nord's attention again. Steak, pie, mead, ale, fish and... dear lord the sweetrolls. To say that Thorral wanted to eat the food would be a slight understatement.

    To try to bring his mind off his hungar, he scanned the table to see who his fellow witchers and superiors would be. A couple Bretons, Nords, Redguard, Khajiit and so on, this brotherhood has to be one of the more diverse ones. "The Jarls really want the best for this undead problem..."

    Soon enough the Jarl and his men came into the the dining hall. Thorral honestly did not know what to think of Balgruuf. This was the man who became the most pivotal piece of the civil war that turned the tide against the Stormcloaks, which Thorral was grateful for, but then again it caused his home city of Windhelm to be attacked and brought down to ruin. But then again he was disowned and kicked out of the city 10 years ago, so he can't really call it home anymore. "No matter, the guy is respectable enough." Thorral stood and followed his brotherhood in greeting the Jarl.

    Later on in the dinner, Thorral was having perhaps the best dinner in a long while, when he noticed the Khajiit leave the table. Smiling to himself he thinks "More food for me then." Soon after all of the superior's left the table excusing themselves for some guild matters. Probably working on the first assignment.
     

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