Open Fading Hope

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Dabiene picked up a very thin see through baggy full of dead bugs with bug guts and juices squeezing out. She held the bag with her thumb and forefinger while scrunching up her nose. She hated bugs... Especially dead insects...

"Oh Soldinnn...." She growled deeply. Damn that boy!

She went over to the nearest garbage tin and threw the bag in there with a shudder. Her face scrunched up in a very unlady-like manner with her tongue sticking out, fake gagging. As she walked back to her dresser she heard Cilla shouting.

"Dabs! Dabs! Alice is having a vision! I think it's a really bad one! You've got to come RIGHT NOW!"
Shock was evident on her face and she immediately scurried out the door into the room Alice was in, Soldin not knowing what to do but look at the ground. She couldn't blame him, he didn't know what to do in this situation. Dabiene only told him once about Alice's 'gift'. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Alice, can you hear me? Look at me and take deep breaths." She sat down next to her and rubbed her back very lightly. She had read a few records that a person nearly stabbed someone after having a bad lucid vision. That person was a close friend. Dabiene knew Alice wouldn't try to do that but the middle-aged woman didn't want to scare her.

Soldin was beside himself. He kept looking at his hands, a very forlorn expression on his face. "Soldin, go get a glass of water."

She looked at Alice again, "I know you may not want to talk about it but it may be important, can you tell me what you saw? You don't have to tell everything now, in fact you should be resting but if you need to talk about it now, I'm here, hun."

She stroked her hair lightly, hoping to not disturb her.

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Alice picked off one of Dabiene's underwear off his head, and patted him.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, don't you pup?" Alice and Cilla were one of the few, besides Dabiene and Isran now and a few others, that he allowed to call him pup. It was true, even he couldn't deny his own puppy like personality. He was a social creature, he couldn't help it. "And yes, Cilla and I have the whole day to ourselves. We can feed you and pet you and feed you yummy treats, and maybe even rub your belly if you're good!"

"Well, I definately like the sound of that!"

Cilla spoke up with great enthusiasm, "AND we can hear about how he killed a million daedra!" She crawled up on his lap as he laughed, "Sure why not?"

"Was all that true Soldin!? Did you really cut that ten foot daedra in half with your claymore!? Did you really make sixty-six scamps run just by looking mean at them!? Does Isran really eat werewolf meat and vampire blood for breafkast!?" Soldin chuckled at that. Even that rumor was going about the castle, due to the lack of full rations nowadays, people thought Isran was immortal or god like due to having 'odd cravings'. "...Enthir told me he does! He even sold me a real werewolf tooth! And it was only fifty septims! He said I was a good buyer! I have it here in my pocket since I was wearing my jammies when I bought them. Do you think they're cute by the way?"

Werewolf tooth? How was that possible? The only way to get a werewolf tooth was to actually kill one, or have one turn into one and extract the tooth alive. And that was extremely rare. Werewolves were very proud of the canines and fur. Some kind of... Social status.

To have one was truely amazing... Who was this Enthir?

The girl pulled out a small tooth that definately wasn't a werewolf. Enthir and Cilla got the 'wolf' part, but not the 'were' part. She looked at her sister and Soldin, proudly showing off her prize. Soldin saw out of the corner of his eye that Alice at first looked concerned then a little irritated.

'50 septims for this? And why is...? Ooooh... He's that kinda guy. Can't blame him though, werewolf teeth are now even harder to come by. Hm... I think I have an idea for her next present... She wants a werewolf tooth? I'll get her one...' Soldin smirked as he plotted on how Dabiene could help with his little present. After all.. They were both werewolves weren't they?

Cilla honey, I don't think..."
Alice froze, and her face went to extreme pain, not physical, but emotional. When someone or something triggered an emotional or tramatic flashback on someone that wasn't expecting it.

"...Alice?" Cilla asked with concern. "Are you okay? Are you...are you having a vision?"

"Go get Dabs Cilla." Alice said in a very somber tone, thinly veiling extrieme panic. "Go get Dabs right now."
Cilla looked at her then dashed out of the room, yelling for his Breton friend. The two came in a few seconds later.

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Soldin went to fetch a glass of water in the makeshift kitchen. As he poured some water noticed his reflection on one of the pots and pans.

He looked ok, hair still exotic white, his stubble around his jaw and mouth still there. He didn't look to rugged, like someone who fought through hell to get to somewhere just to look for someone. Like he did. He flashed a smile dispite the situation and noticed his teeth.

That gave him an idea. He opened his mouth and pulled at his lips and cheeks, all the while trying to figure out how in the world he was going to get Dabs to agree with his plan. Hm...

He washed his hands, grabbed the water and raced back toward the area of the ladies.

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(OOC: Working on Severus' post. Hang tight!)

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

(OOC: I'm assuming we'll be at Dawnstar by now correct?)

Severus and Jeroo-Shei had made it through the frozen tundra thus far, as far as to Dawnstar. The last time Severus was here the place was just... So open. As if laying out its residence on a silver plate.

"Finally..."

The place was heavily fortified, and it looked like it survived a few battles thus far. The demons didn't go up far north much and as such, Severus saw very little damage to the walls guarding the place. Guards on the walls stood tall, armed with crossbows, heavy armor, along with most likely posions and disease curing potions.

The Nord vampire debated on what to do. They could lay here for half a day and rest, which there wasn't much need, they had enough blood potions and stength potions to last a week, or they could keep walking and not risk exposing themselves and cause unnecessary chaos in the fortified town. He voiced as such to his coven mate.

"We can lay up here, no doubt risking our hides for half a day, or we can keep hiking through the frozen hills to Winterhold. I don't think it's a brilliant idea to hold up here for too long if we do... We might get uncovered and cause a mass panic which is unnecessary."

He waited on his friend's decision.

(OOC: Hope you're alive out there Chief. Sorry for the wait!)

 

[Simus]

"Alice, can you hear me? Look at me and take deep breaths."

Alice heard this and willed herself back to reality. She wasn't really in Whiterun, she was still here at the College. She was safe. Dabs was right there beside her like the mother she was.

She looked to Dabs as she told Soldin to go get a glass of water and Cilla followed suit. She continued to talk to Alice, trying to calm her down.

"I know you may not want to talk about it but it may be important, can you tell me what you saw? You don't have to tell everything now, in fact you should be resting but if you need to talk about it now, I'm here, hun."
She hugged Dabiene and clumg tightly to her nightgown. Tears rolled silently down her face as she nuzzled into her shoulder and whispered in her ear, barely keeping her tears of fear in check.

"The Daedric Prince of Destruction advances on Whiterun, the light of mortals wanes and the silver haired General enters Oblivion to save it. Yet Time has been shackled by the princes. The General cannot save us. All...is lost."

Alice was always a bit cryptic after seeing a vision and she knew it usually didn't help. This only added to her dispair. She lost composure and sobbed into Dabiene's shoulder, not noticing the return ot Cilla and Soldin.

(OOC: There ya go Dabs! Alice is in Soothsayer Mode! Now if you would be a dear and RE within the month. Hopefully tomorrow

 

[fellowknight]

Marius grasped the knight's forearm, and with some effort pulled himself up. He set his hands on his knees. "Thanks Baroth, I -" His vision cleared and he noticed the hilt of a dagger protruding from his friend's shoulder. "-By the Nine, Baroth..." He said, taking a tone that was slow and caring but also sardonic."...When we get to Fort Dawnguard, I am having Isobel make you a set of Silver Blade Armor. Quality stuff, and her own creation. It'll at least prevent you from looking like a-" He quickly pulled the dagger out of the man's shoulder with his left hand, his right hand making direct contact with the wound, closing it with a Close Wounds spell. The knight briefly reacted, shouting out at the sudden pain; before he was done, the wound was closed. "Sorry for that. I'm serious about the armor though. You'll need something a bit stronger, and I'd be happy to get you some." He patted the aging knight gently on the same shoulder he just healed. Baroth gave a nod and a weak sigh. "Thank you Marius. But i don't find it neccesa-"

From behind Baroth, the mercenary arrived."To the contrary Baroth... I happen to be unscathed. The Argonian took an arrow in the shoulder but he should be fine. So much for your magic, Dawnguard... Now. What's the next step in this assault? They know exactly where we are now so we better prepare for more action." Baroth grinned, relieved that Marek was alive; but also saddened that he would have to hear his smart comments.

Marius gave Marek a quick glare, and replied

"Y'know Marek, I tend to agree with you against magic. It's just been real helpful lately. Thanks for your help on the ridge." He looked over at the Argonian's shoulder wound, and noticed it was still open. "I've got some medical supplies in my pack." He motioned to the small leather bag sitting against a jutting rock outcropping. "Look for a green balm, and get H'sikar's shoulder patched up. I'd heal him instantly, but my magic is a bit on the low side right now. See if you can find your way around some more mundane methods. Don't want our new friend dying of infection or blood loss now."

Standing, he looked over the group. A new man, short and muscular sat beside Simus.

"I figure we have only a little while before Old Red gathers a response team after our little performance. Get ready to move quietly; a stealthy approach after that explosion will hopefully confuse the enemy." Baroth quietly agreed. He turned to the Argonian. "H'sikar, if you know of this Plane, we'll definitely need any insight you can offer." His orders given, Marius removed the crossbow from his back, and began to adjust the alterations on it with a small toolkit from his belt.

"With all due respect Marius, some of us aren't exactly quiet on our feet. Plus there's only one way into that tower unless you can fly or walk over lava. I've studied most of the written work on the Oblivion Crisis and this particular plane. Each of these towers has a system of tunnels that create several secondary entrances. Makes counterassaults easier and confuses infiltrators. If we can access these tunnels we can find an enterance to one of the secondary towers that connects to the one containing the Sigil Stone, the artifact that holds these gates open. Assuming Dagon hasn't changed something in the last two hundred years."

He knelt down and began drawing in the ashen dirt with a finger.

"The Sigil Tower is connected to several secondary towers via stone bridges along the lower and mid levels. Sometimes the only way to climb one tower is to cross over into another. We may have to do this during our asault. If we enter one of the secondary towers through a tunnel enterance and climb high enough, we will find a bridge that leads to the Sigil tower. Once there we ascend to the Sigilum Sanquinis, a room at the top containing the Stone. This room will be heavily guarded so we'll have to move hard and fast. The daedra will also guard all possible route to at least some degree so there will be little room for subtlty no matter where we go."

Simus then looked up at Marius, not realizing his face was covered in ash, sweat, and some blood.

"Also, we can expect Mehrunes Dagon to know we're here. I don't know what he'll send against us to suppliment his standing forces but he may decide to pull forces from the battle back in Whiterun. We have to be prepared for an attack from behind. It's going to take caution, patience and cunning to win this battle as we're heavily outnumbered. What are your orders sir?"

H'sikar looked down at his own shoulder. ''Thank's but it will be fine.'' He said. He flashed a smile at Marek and jerked the arrow clean out of his shoulder. ''My connection to the Hist allows me to heal a lot quicker than a mere mortal.'' Even as he spoke, H'sikar's shoulder had began to sew itself up. "H'sikar, if you know of this Plane, we'll definitely need any insight you can offer." Said Marius. ''As for insight, You can rest assured that Dagon knows we are here. And as long as we keep slaying his forces, he will know our path and head us off at the destination. My suggestion is a simple diversion tactic. Two of the best fighters will go and fight as many Daedra as possible, all the while moving farther and farther away from our true destination. Dagon will follow the path of bodies and end up far away from our true goal. The other group will try to avoid conflict while taking a more subtle approach so as not to alert Dagon to the true mission. Only one question remains....Who does what?''

H'sikar looked around at the others, waiting for a response, then he spoke again.

''Oh, and how we plan to leave once this is over is another issue all together. With the gate closed we will have no direct means to leave this plane.''

Baroth stroked his short, ragged beard as he thought about his choices. If he chose to cause the distraction, he could possibly die or worse. Be caught and subject to torture. Eternal torture. Something he did NOT want to go through again. And if he chose to go with the others, they would indefinitely be a strike force, capable of closing the gate and stopping Dagon. But, then again, that would leave only one to hold off the hordes of Daedra. He chose what he would do. He stepped forward.

"I should go with the group and get the Sigil Stone from the tower. If i may suggest, Donath and Marek could stay and hold the hordes while we make our 'subtle' approach to the tower; using the quite advanced tunnel system. I could be of great use along the way, or here on the front lines. Either way, we must move fast, before Old Red catches wind of our efforts and foils our plan. Marius my friend, what are my orders?

Then, off to the left corner of his eyesight, he saw two shadowy figures approaching. He turned and faced the figures, folding his arms.

"But first, it appears that we have some company. Good or Evil they may be, we shall see soon enough."

​

 

[Dustman]

The dust-covered, ash-streaked, and blood-splattered commander made a final twist on his crossbow, and briefly stooped to grab a handful of volcanic ash. He gently poured the fine black powder over the steel of the crossbow's bow, covering the threat of a reflection of the Planes' bubbling magma ocean. He let the weapon drop from his hands, swinging back on it's dark leather strap to his side, and took inventory of the bolts strapped to his left hip. Sixteen. He'd have to be efficient with the silent and deadly weapon on his approach.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as Simus informed him of the general mapping of the area, and Baroth spoke his own suggestion. Though preferring small, easily manageable squadrons when fighting, Marius did have to admit that he enjoyed the aid, and the way he could hit many areas at once with obviously skilled individuals. And though his new comrades did not hold the same connection he had with his own Silver Blades, they were efficient and effective, given the trying circumstances. Realizing the draining time they had to plan their next move, the slayer spoke at last: "Very useful information, Commander Psyrakon, and wise suggestion, Baroth. However, with all due respect, I believe Marek would be more suited for the subtle approach, rather than the front lines, given his obvious training in such arts, and given your choice of armor I think it would be unwise for you to traverse the tunnel network."

Marius began unstrapping the heavier metal pieces of his armor, removing the large pauldron on his left shoulder, and the dark plates on his upper arms, leaving only the Dawnguard plate-tunic with added leather shoulder-pads and thigh protectors, as well as his spiked greaves and sabatons. He spoke calmly as he unequipped the noisier parts of his gear, dropping them to the rust-colored ground. "I propose we send a small strike team through the tunnels, consisting of myself, Marek, H'sikar, and..." He caught himself as he almost spoke his son's name out of habit, a shadow of loss crossing his features. "...and meanwhile, Commander Psyrakon, Baroth, and Donath will lead the enemy away from our position. Baroth, I'm putting you in charge of that. When the secondary tower is clear enough, I'll light and fire a burning crossbow bolt into the air. Baroth, keep an eye out for it; I'm sure you'll recognize it, old friend. When you see the signal, lose any followers, and get over to that position. Commander.." turned to Simus, "Make sure to save some power in that dwemer contraption of yours for the scaling of the tower. After we regroup, we'll attack the Sigil Tower en masse." Suddenly, the slayer felt a chill on his neck, as if he was being watched. 'I guess Old Red has finally taken control of his Plane.' He thought. 'Better watch what I say.'

Stepping over to his satchel, Marius unstrapped two small Nordic axes he used for close combat when his greatsword was too cumbersome. An wedding gift from Isobel's smith-master Lod of Falkreath, they were since gouged with the marks of close-combat battles, but never less were consistently razor sharp - an secret the old smith had never informed either himself or Isobel of. 'Proof that the title of master smith is not easily gained.' Marius reflected. He gripped the two worn handles, and briefly tested their weight, spinning them with little effort in his practiced hands. He sighed at the memories the axes brought, then caught them firmly and buckled them on either side of his belt.

In afterthought, Marius grabbed the satchel and turned to Simus. "Look after this, please, Commander. I can't afford to spare it's contents now." He then turned to Baroth, and made a quick, silent gesture to carry out his squadron's orders. The knight nodded.

Marius turned and strode toward the Argonian, speaking briefly. "H'sikar, lead the way."

. . . .​

​

In Riverwood, Isobel stood in front of the priest, Solifyr, staring at the amulet before her. "A Vigilant of Stendarr, eh? I can't say I or my husband agree with the more fanatical of the group, but one can appreciate at the very least the efforts to rid the world of the more terrible Princes' influence. I also imagine that the Vigilants are a bit more careful after the vampires fought back." She pushed her hand gently against the carved symbol dangling from the black chord, and continued: "Keep the amulet; you'll need it more than I. I value your allegiance, Solifyr. As for Riften, I'm sure we can offer some relief, though we are few in number, and limited in supplies. You have my word." She raised a fist up to her chest, a salute she'd learned meant something in Skyrim. "Get ready to move soon. It's about time we embraced the challenges of this journey." With that, the Imperial woman went to make final, final, final preparations. Everything was in order, the soldiers were in their positions, and the convoy was prepared to move, but something felt...missing. Without a thought, her hand moved to a pocket of her travel gear, and brought out a crumbled note, written in slanting letters by her son. She read it again, and again, and realized she'd not seen her son all morning, and felt a sense of pining for the boy. Where was he? Was he safe? He was with Falion and that healer, so he must be...but the absence of him still bothered her, like a notch in a favorite sword. Remembering Marius's parting farewell, he found some comfort in the assuring words of her husband: "I'll find Alesan. I swear it. We will be reunited at Fort Dawnguard."​

​

Then she went to lead the journey there.​

((OOC: I'll begin the journey in part two of my post - I'm simply stopping because it's late, and I want to be sure of what the road is like. I'll post soon when I can ))

 

[Zander Feredon]

"H'sikar, lead the way."

He smiled. ''Sure thing.'' He said as he turned and broke into a quick jog. He passed by the corpses from the previous attack and continued back that way for a good amount of time. Many thoughts flashed through his mind, most of which were of his time spent in the multiple plains of oblivion and in timeless-ness itself. He was so caught up in the memories that he almost led the group directly into an oncoming patrol squad. H'sikar ducked out of site, luckily the squad itself was below them. They had the height advantage and had remained unseen, but the path H'sikar had decided to take led the group directly through that patrol.

H'sikar turned and motioned for the others to take cover as well. ''We have a minor issue.'' He said pointing over the rock. ''they aren't going to take kindly to our appearance. We need a way to get past them, Of course i could clear them in a leap, but that would leave you guys stuck, any ideas?''

 

[Andre Marek]

Marek grimaced as H'sikar lead the small group almost directly into a squad of demons. Damnit... Is this guy deaf or something? How is he going to get us into those tunnels? Glancing over at the Dawngaurd warrior, Marius, Marek mused, I'm going to have to do this whole bloody thing by myself at this rate. Neither of them are very stealthy... Stepping forward and dropping to a crouch, he said, "Leave them to me." Without waiting for a reply he snuck forward until he was squatting on an outcropping just above and behind the group of four monsters. His dark grey and black armor served to blend his form seamlessly into the grim and dismal landscape so that the patrol remained completely unaware of the imminent danger.

Marek jumped soundlessly from the ledge and landed softly on the padded leather soles of his boots, only a few meters behind the group. Still in a crouch and without drawing his weapons for fear of them hearing the steely rasp of a sword being unsheathed, Marek glided up behind the nearest creature, who was foolishly standing several feet behind its companions. with a swift motion, he stood, wrapped his hand around the daedras mouth, smothering its surprised yelp, before jerking its head viciously to the side. Even before his first victim hit the hard baked ground, Marek was behind the next. Repeating the hand over the mouth technique, he then rammed his heel into the back of the demons knee, causing it to stumble and fall as its knee shattered from behind. Wrenching its head back, Marek then performed a quick but powerful jab to its exposed trachea, effectively killing it.

The next two creatures were much closer together than the first two. They would have to be silenced simultaneously. Thinking for only a moment, Marek decided he'd try an old trick he liked using when infiltrating fortified places, such as gate houses and such. Drawing his dagger, he then sat down with his back against the cliff and his features veiled in shadows. Pressing the blade to the side of his leg he then grunted loudly at the pair of dreamora. Both creatures swiveled around to look for the noise and immediately spotted both of their dead comrades along with Marek sitting against the wall. Drawing their own weapons and uttering low but surprised grumbles, both monsters walked up until they stood over Marek. Both of them fell for his trick. As the pair leaned down to inspect their discovery, Marek whipped his arm up and sliced across both of their throats. The creatures eyes widened in surprise and both fell backwards, hands clasped around their necks in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

Standing, Marek looked down on the two demons as they bleed out. After he was certain they were gone, he sheathed his dagger again before walking back in the direction of Marius and H'sikar. As he approached he simply stared flatly at the pair, "The next group is all yours... If you can keep it quiet that is." He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms as he waited for H'sikar to take the lead again.

 

[Zander Feredon]

H'sikar watched the entire exchange with a slight smile. ''Perhaps you could teach me those tricks sometime?'' He asked. He stood and looked around, trying to get a feel for which direction he needed to go. ''Alright,from here we follow the path that the patrol squad was taking, it should lead directly into the tunnel system, from there we should go relatively unnoticed.'' Said H'sikar. Without a backwards glance, he leaped off the side of the outcropping and landed squarely in between the two Dremora who had their throats slit.

While waiting for the others to descend the rock face in their own fashion, H'sikar took the time to drag the bodies off the path and store them behind a rather large boulder. ''Should take Big Red a little while to notice these.'' He said smiling at the others as they finally made it to the bottom. ''Shall we continue then?''
Once the group was settled they headed back out, following the set path that H'sikar had pointed out from the beginning, Most of the trip was rather uneventful, that is until the mouth of the tunnel system came into view.
What resembled the mouth of a serpent sat in the center of a sheer rock face. No hand hold and no way to scale it, the only way to advance was to go directly into the maw of the thing itself. From where the group was standing, merely 300 yards from the opening, you could see nothing on the inside. It seemed as if the light from the outside world couldn't penetrate the cave itself. An eerie sense of dread seeped out of the cave and it resembled black smoke in appearance.

''Well, I didn't take that into account.'' Said H'sikar. ''No light can pass from the outside world into the cave itself. The Dremora are accustomed to it, but our eyes will be nearly useless, unless someone has another idea?''

 

[fellowknight]

"Very useful information, Commander Psyrakon, and wise suggestion, Baroth. However, with all due respect, I believe Marek would be more suited for the subtle approach, rather than the front lines, given his obvious training in such arts, and given your choice of armor I think it would be unwise for you to traverse the tunnel network." Marius then, likewise, unequipped the heavier pieces of armor. As they fell to the volcanic earth, Baroth couldn't help but complement the Silver Blade on his wise move. Traveling in a silent squadron with silent allies trying to execute a silent order required little to no heavy armor. A smart move indeed. "I propose we send a small strike team through the tunnels, consisting of myself, Marek, H'sikar, and..."He paused for a second, an expression of loss crossing his face."...and meanwhile, Commander Psyrakon, Baroth, and Donath will lead the enemy away from our position. Baroth, I'm putting you in charge of that. When the secondary tower is clear enough, I'll light and fire a burning crossbow bolt into the air. Baroth, keep an eye out for it; I'm sure you'll recognize it, old friend. When you see the signal, lose any followers, and get over to that position. Commander.."

He turned to Simus, "Make sure to save some power in that dwemer contraption of yours for the scaling of the tower. After we regroup, we'll attack the Sigil Tower en masse." Marius finished, as he unsheathed two Steel War Axes. They looked quite worn, like as if they had seen many years of combat. Marius looked taken back somehow, as he swung them high in the air, likely practicing some moves he learned long ago. Baroth completely agreed with the plan his old friend came up with. He trusted his skill and his stealth would pull their efforts through; he knew they would. Then Marius grabbed his satchel, stood still for a moment, then looked to Simus. "Look after this, please, Commander. I can't afford to spare it's contents now." He said, handing the Satchel to Simus. He then turned to Baroth, and made a quick, silent gesture to carry out his squadron's orders. The knight nodded. It was time to go.

As Marius and his group headed off westward, Baroth led his east, in order to successfully carry out the plan and confuse Dagon. He slid down the ridge and began making his way towards the jagged structures and boulders off in the distance. No sooner than he and his comrades has gone around the corner of a boulder, they had run right into a patrol squadron resting in a clearing by the Rust-colored Dirt Road. As luck would have it, they had not yet been noticed. "Dagon expects us to keep patroling an empty plane! No one has set foot here since the failed siege two hundred years ago. We are patroling dust! Nothing but dust!" He growled in a low gargle, before he was shushed by another Daedra. "Hush you fool! I can feel that Dagon himself is in control of the plane. He may yet have heard what you said, so i would be quiet if i were you."

As they ranted on, Baroth turned to his group, and spoke. "It would appear we have stumbled upon some tired, complaining Daedra. What do ya say we give 'em something to really complain about, eh?" He said, before turning and running out of cover. The Daedra immediately stopped in their rant when they saw him step out. They wore surprised expressions as they unsheathed their weapons. One yelled out for help, and reinforcements; those were the last words he uttered. Baroth smiled as he drew his Silver Sword, yelling a war cry before charging head in. He wanted them to hear him. He NEEDED them to hear him. For the plan. For Marius. "COME AND GET ME, DAEDRIC-SCUM!" He yelled as he rammed his sword into a Dremora's stomach. He heard the Whoosh! as a Daedric Sword swung at his neck. He quickly ripped the sword from the bleeding soldier's armor, raised it high in the air, and blocked the stroke. He wildly swung his sword left, knocking the soldier's sword from his hand, leaving him surprised and exposed; a horrible mix, if you ask me.

He knew the other two were well aware of his arrival, and had most likely taken up arms and charged at him. He quickly finished off the second one with a quick slash to the throat and a fist to the cheekbone. Then, as he turned to look, he saw a Daedric Battleaxe swing sideways at him. He ducked and rolled out behind the soldier, slashing deep into his knee, forcing him into a kneel. While he was in sudden pain, Baroth heard an arrow being strung a few feet behind him, closer the rust-colored dirt road. He wrapped his left arm around the Soldier's neck and pulled him to his feet, just as the arrow was released. It lodged itself in the Daedra's chest, as planned, and it took the archer a few seconds before he realized what he had done. Baroth dropped the dead Daedric Soldier, his lifeless body falling to the Rust-Colored dirt, before charging towards the Archer. He made a futile attempt to unsheathe his dagger, before Baroth stabbed him through. He flipped the dagger out of his hand and stabbed into the side of his neck, allowing him to fall over sideways.

By now his comrades had most likely made their way towards him and finished off any survivors. He heard the pounding of boots and harsh commands far off, to the east. He smiled and turned to his comrades. "And here comes the welcoming party. Be sure to be polite and show your manners by giving them a quick, merciless death! To arms!" He yelled, turning back towards the sound and running along the dirt path.

 

[ChiefScalyNipples]

Jeroo-Shei disliked having to lay in the freezing cold for a day, knowing that if he didn't possess immortality and wasn't already a walking corpse that it would cause him to die, being cold-blooded, reptilian and all. He'd much rather be in some decent warmth, even though his vampiric instincts made him avoid fire too. It's difficult being an Argonian Vampire, not being able to handle too much cold OR too much warm as well as other vampires. It's difficult, but somehow Jeroo had maintained his vampirism for two Eras, having immortality compensate for it all.

Disregarding his dilemma with the cold, Jeroo-Shei had knew not risking themselves by lying in the snow was the best thing to do. The Nord guards would probably know nothing of the Argonian Nagas tribe anyway, thus automatically assuming that Jeroo-Shei would've made it up, even though it is an actual tribe, just one Jeroo is not a member of.

"*sigh* Too much cold gets on my nerves and causes me discomfort, but you're right, it'll have to do for now. No offense, but most nords, mainly the guards, are too proud and ignorant to learn about another culture. They'd think I was making up the Nagas tribe. Besides, what would an Argonian that lives or had lived that deep into Argonia be doing in Skyrim? I've used that lie successfully before, but the guards are actually paying attention now and they wouldn't believe that for a second. So yes, we should stay here for a day, but no longer. We can only assume how long it'll take 'til were in jeopardy of being discovered or encountering one or more of those creatures again.", said Jeroo-Shei wisely.

Jeroo-Shei then squatted to the ground and sat down with his tail curved. Severus did the same except for the "tail" part, of course. Jeroo turned his hooded head in Severus' direction as the breezing wind irritated him and asked, "It has plenty of Blood Potions, right? I don't mean to waste any, but could I have one or two as the night goes by to help get through this intense cold? Some warm blood would help me as I endure it." just after Jeroo asked that, something grabbed his attention in the distance. He turned his head quickly as he saw it out of the corner of his eye. He stared and focused on this intently, and wasn't able to listen to Severus' reply. It appeared to be one human shaped figure running from three figures of the same body shape as the abominations.

"Great...", Jeroo-Shei thought sarcastically.

 

[DurableDiction]

Solifyr was relieved to have been able to convince Isobel to send aid to Riften. He hoped it wasn't too late. He stared at his amulet mournfully. Fanatical as they may have been, the Vigil had raised him. Haunting memories clouded his mind. "Vampires." She had said. "If only she understood." Solifyr clenched the trinket tightly before slipping it into his rucksack. Mounting his horse, he continued to pilot the villagers and guards into a 'fortified' caravan.


K'Zaad and Lyran huddled together in the shadows of the temple, panting heavily. "Damned things." Whispered the elf. They're like Falmer. They won't stop coming."
Corinth's shade appeared before them. She was noticeably tired and the etheareal form looked exhausted and dimmer than her previous replecations. "Gorbash is growing restless. Any longer and he'll be charging out sword swinging."
"I heard that, witch!" Sounded a distant voice. A few rustling sounds and flickers of Corinth's shade later, Corinth spoke again. This time panting slightly. "Imputant ape. Sorry, what are your plans?"
Lyran cleared his throat. "There is a hidden path between the Vaults and the Guild Master's manor. He no doubt kept food and supplies there. But to get in, we need a key. Of which there are only two copies. Maven Black-Briar had one. And Mercer has the other. However, Mercer trusted no one. Not even himself. So he decided an intricate, albeit rediculous plan. He entrusted a new member to hide it within the temple of Mara, then he framed the poor Nord and had him jailed for smuggling."
"This Mercer fellow," Corinth interrupted. "Was he insane?"
"Guild Master's are notoriously paranoid. It's in the job description." Lyran grinned.
"Ok then, lets find this guy."
"Already done." Lyran pointed to a mass of slain undead. "He's the blonde one. Not very talkative I'm afraid."
Corinth scowled. "I assume you have a plan B?"
"Nord's love their poetry. No exception here. He had a poetry book that he kept stored in his trunk. I read a few of them when he wasn't around. Aside from his numerous odes to Vex," Lyran winced. "He had a few that seemed to describe a few of his jobs."
"So you think he wrote one describing the location of the key?"
"That's where you come in. I need you to find the book and read it. Aside from keeping your breakfast down, try to find anything that mentions the temple or a key."
"I'll get right to it." The shade dissipated.
Lyran reached into his pouch and pulled out a few lock picks. "In the meantime, K'Zaad, watch my back while I get us in this temple."

 

[Simoran]

The world itself seemed to change around them, as a long path to the monolith stretched out before them, though notably was neither smooth nor flat, but instead composed of a collection of rough stones much like the roads of Skyrim, stretching through a forest or even a garden. Tall trees lined the side of the path in between the roots of which flowers lay in, their heads peering through the trees branches looking for a nonexistent sunlight, surrounded by patches of grass and dirt. Such a sight may have been very uplifting Grommund thought, were it not for the petrified nature of the garden, for despite the variety of shape and surface everything was a dull shade of grey and despite the life it showed Grommund felt only death around him. The trees branches and leaves did not even waver being perfectly still and motionless so delicate in appearance that they might crumble to dust at his touch.

Nether the less Grommund felt a greater level of determination, for this was clearly a sign they were on the right path and proceeded to assist Toben who also appeared to have regained some hope and strength, successfully regaining his stature as they made their way along the uneven path, which due to having become so used to the flat surface before, they almost toppled over on a couple of occasions on the uneven path, though continued onwards regardless.

The monolith came into view and Grommund took note of its appearance resembling that of a large grey egg, with the body of an identically coloured snake around it, curving to the top of the monolith from which bright varieties of blue tore through the sky. As he looked down towards the base of the monolith, which could now be made out Grommund sighted a small door shaped formation in the monolith and a figure outside it.

Toben had also sighted the figure turning to Grommund and asking “How are we going to get past that.”

“Just stand tall and push past, it might ignore us” Grommund replied with a high level of uncertainty audible in his voice.

“But if this place is of importance, surely” Toben began before he broke his sentence with a cough “they won’t just let anyone in.”

“Well they better, because I sure don’t think I have the strength right now to fight my way in.” Grommund muttered.

Carefully proceeding towards the monolith the pair continued to approach, with Grommund in front with Toben who followed exactly behind him. As the daedric being became visible they took care to keep their head pointing forwards and avoid looking directly at it, and from what Grommund could tell out of the corner of its eye it was doing likewise.

With no movement from the daedric being Grommund strode up to the door and pushed through, the grey slab shifting open easier than anticipated and once Toben released it, there was a slam as it shut and then a click as the door locked.

“Uh oh” Grommund said anxiously turning to the door.

 

[Drahkma]

A man stood in the middle of the road, leading into the city of Dawnstar. Snow fell gently onto the red painted steel of his armour, and head, covering the man, rather than melting. Then again, snow only melted when heated, and the man had no body heat. His mid length, wavy, hazelnut coloured hair was flecked with white, as were the tips of his slightly pointed ears. However, if he was bothered by the snow and cold, he showed no indication of it, simply waiting patiently. In his hands, he held a dwarven long sword, the hilt elongated so that he could clasp it in both hands, the tip resting on the snow stones of the road.

The mans' name, was Averain Silverblade, and he was dead. Not, of course, dead in the conventional sense. He was a vampire, and had been for nearly half a decade. Before being bitten, he'd been a knight, fighting in the wars in High Rock. Even with vampiric urges, he stuck to his code of defending the innocent, and punishing the wicked. He only fed on those he defeated in combat, and had done so quite recently, on several bandits that had thought Dawnstar would make easy prey. His skin, usually a pale gold, had gained some colour, seeming more golden, and his eyes glowed with an energy that could not be mistaken for anything natural.

His keen hearing picked up on the distinct noise of seven or eight people coming down the road, by the sound of them. They were making no noise to be even remotely stealthy, bellowing with laughter, and shouting crude remarks. It wasn't long until they came into view, eight figures, six wearing robes, two others wearing what appeared to be steel armour, similar to Averains. He made no move as they approached, and kept his head lowered, and closed his eyes. An unwary observer would have thought him to be a statue, or perhaps an adventurer that had frozen in place.

He listened as they approached, calmly preparing himself for battle. He knew there would be no peaceful way of dissuading the approaching men. Only men that had devoted themselves to the Daedra moved about Tamriel so freely these days. When he judged them to be two metres away, he spoke, his voice strong and clear, with a slight Aldmeri accent. "You will not pass. Only death awaits you here.Turn back" the men stopped, the sound of weapons being drawn, obviously, they were surprised. "Move aside, fool. There are eight of us, an' only one o' you" one man ordered, in a deep, scornful voice.

He he sensed, rather than heard one man approach, weapon in hand, and he reacted. His eyes snapped open,as he brought his sword, Goldbrand, up in a powerful upwards slash, that took the dagger, and the hand holding it. The robed cultist shrieked in surprise, staring at the bleeding stump of his wrist. "KILL HIM!" Bellowed one of the men, a tall, long haired Nord, in black steel armour, with all kinds of spikes and blades on it. The five men, surged forwards, their robes whipping in the fierce wind that had sprung up. 'Interesting.The robed ones seem to take their orders from the armoured men...'

He noted that the cultists were attempting to flank him, which made sense. A man in heavy armour was much less maneuverable than the robed cultists. However, Averain was no normal man. He spun on his heel, his sword cutting through cloth and flesh as he did so. One man fell, his guts spilling across the virgin snow, as he did so, the vampire caught another man lunging for his eye, and his hand whipped out, catching the mans' wrist, and squeezing until the bones shattered. He opened his mouth to cry out, but before he could, the vampiric knight turned, running the man through with his blade. That left three cultists all who were now understandably nervous.



They went for a concerted attack, daggers slashing and thrusting in unison. All three of them died quickly, undone by Averains superior armour, and longer reach. The sixth man, the one who'd lost his hand, was on his knees, showing little desire to rejoin the fight. The vampire knight's lips were turned up in a gentle smile, as if the whole affair was a jest, or a great game. A game where there could only ever be one winner. The two armoured men joined the fray, bellowing like wounded bulls. One wielded a steel warhammer, the other a battle ax. Averain stepped inside the first mans reach, slamming a gauntleted fist into his jaw. Stunned, the man didn't react fast enough to prevent his head from being severed.


He turned smoothly to deal with his second, and final opponent. The warrior roared, swinging his ax around his head, aiming to decapitate the vampire. Averain kept out of the mans range long enough so that he tired, and grew careless. An over the head, powerful, fight ending chop from the ax was off target, and the blade buried itself into the hard, frozen ground. The knight didn't hesitate, stepping forwards, and with a two handed chop of his own, cutting the ax haft clean in half. The brute he faced didn't even hesitate, simply taking up the end half of the weapon and wielding it like a mace. At that point, Averain decided enough was enough, and let out a shrill whistle. An answering whinny came back to him, carried by the wind.

As the man pursued the half-breton, he didn't notice the magnificent, coal black warhorse cantering towards his back. He turned too late, as the horse reared up, and crushed his skull, with a large hoof. Averain finally relaxed. "Good timing, as always, my friend" he said, petting the animal on the nose. The horse, Luther, by name, nickered softly, and bobbed its head, as if agreeing. Walking to the saddle bag at the beasts side, he withdrew an apple, and a small knife, halving it. He held out the treat, on his pawn, and the always hungry war horse gobbled it down. Turning to deal with the remaining cultist, he felt a shove against his back. Luther eyed the remaining apple half with a large brown eye. With a sigh and a grin, he held out the remaining half, which was promptly devoured.

Arriving at the one handed cultist, he said curtly "Do you yield?" The man snarled something about the end being upon them, and lunged forwards, and Averain simply slashed his sword across the mans neck, ending him. Sighing at the pointless death, he lead Luther back towards the lean-to he'd constructed, just outside town. He left the bodies where they were, a warning to any other scum that might come along.

 

[Simoran]

Grommund released a heavy sigh, before turning from the locked door to survey the room which was notable that it resembled the interior of an egg in shape, with a thin pathway curving around the interior up to a platform above them, through which Grommund was certain the source of the blue energy binding their worlds together was near. His attention however was drawn to the presence of a hideous creature in the centre of the room, its complexion shades of pale white and grey, whilst spikes ran across its curved spine and with a mouth on its head that appeared little more than a gaping hole (OCC it’s a hunger.) The creature seemed to watch them with curiosity, taking steps from side to side, refusing to release the intruders from its gaze.

“Do you think we could take it”Toben asked Grommund his breathing heavy.

Grommund placed his fingers around the daedric weapon in its hilt, he knew it was heavy and he was unused to it and likely to become unbalanced, on top of which he knew neither of them were in good condition and so replied “I think we have a better chance if we ignore it come-on.”

Watching out of the corner of his eye Grommund made his way to the sloping path and attempted to climb up it only to slip down again. Grommund dashed a glance at the creature which was still keeping its distance from them and carefully clambered to his feet before looking back at the slope. It was steeper and more slippery than it looked and lacked anything to hold onto for balance and after placing his hard metal boot against the surface a couple more times he realised it provided had no grip what so ever.

Beside him Toben bent down and sat himself on the floor his back to the wall, removed his helmet and turned his head turned towards the creature; sweat boiled down his brow and Grommund realised he wouldn’t be able to cope for much longer. Feeling the exhaustion in his own legs Grommund considered sitting down to, as with the door locked, the dadera likely having realised their ruse and unable to pass through the door or up the path there was little more to do than wait for death.

A thought suddenly settled itself in his mind and armour had poor grip but perhaps. Taking another glance at the creature Grommund gently removed one of his gauntlets cautiously placing it on the hard stone floor before placing his bare hand against the steep pathway, and upon pulling his wait felt his skin grip to the surface. Reassuring himself he proceeded to remove his other gauntlet and his boots, before dragging himself upwards with his hands and feet before returning to Toben who had not turned his head away from the creature.

Shaking him by the shoulder Grommund urged him“Come-on we can do this.”Though Toben remained motionless “I am not leaving you to die, we can do that later” Grommund insisted pulling off Toben’s gauntlets and boots; who did not resist.

With a heave he pulled him to his feet and guided him to the slope “Ok let’s take this nice and slowly, we can make it.”

Grommund pulled himself up first and watched Toben slowly follow behind him as the pair gradually made their way upwards dragging their bodies along the steep surface, to which their exposed limbs seemed to grip making their way upwards, the platform coming ever nearer.

A sudden pitter patter of feet caused Grommund to turn his head to see the creature below slowly but surely begin to walk up behind them, somehow able to walk upright and keep its balance on the slippery surface.

Seeing the creature approach, ascending now with greater speed Grommund called back to Toben“we need to hurry.”

But Toben didn’t look up and continued his slow clamber up, compelled only by Grommund’s insistence that he do so, it appeared he had given up, as the creature rapidly neared him able to ascend at a considerably greater speed.

Turning onto his back Grommund watched with horror as the creature reared up behind Toben, who had still made no recognition of the imminent danger. Grasping the hard helmet over his face Grommund removed and tossed it down the side of the slope, the helmet sliding into the wall and bouncing off into the leg of the creature leaving a gash in its leg and causing it to rear backwards, almost toppling off the path; which at this height Grommund was rather sure would be fatal.

Grommund sighed shaking his head as the creature recovered and resumed its ascension once more approaching Toben. With nothing more to throw there was only one thing he could think of and releasing his grip on the slope Grommund tumbled down past Toben before pushing himself off the wall and into the creature which promptly was flung off the edge; as was the lower half of Grommund’s body, his hands desperately grasping at the surface, as he felt his arms give way under his weight. The over half of his body slid off the edge leaving only his arms on the pathway with a considerable drop beneath him, even his arms were now slipping.

Grommund prepared for the rather large fall when Toben’s arm shot out towards his own, pulling Grommund up regardless of the rough metal alongside his arm, cutting into his skin and with a final heave Grommund was on the pathway once more; Toben brushing the blood of his hands.

“Let’s move”said Toben apparently renewed with new energy and hope.

Making their way up the slope the pair reached the platform on which was a door. Pushing though Grommund revealed a square room with sharp angles opposed to the smooth nature of most of the realm, as slits in the wall showed the outside through which the endless maze could be seen and blue energy flying up to the top of the tower, whilst in the centre of the room sat some kind of stone alter with numerous symbols scribbled across it; aside from which it was deserted.

“But there’s nothing here”Grommund cried in disbelief.

“There better be we have company” Toben said panicked who was still on the platform looking down.

“Ok close the door”Grommund called“it has to be here somewhere or why would they come after us.”

“Because their angry dadera who like to kill people”Toben responded pulling shut the door.

Grommund walked over to the alter looking at the inscriptions wincing as he did so; it was in some kind of language he had never seen before. Feel round the edge he began to search for hinges or something and upon he placing his arm on the top he felt it shift; the top of the alter was loose.

“Help me with this”Grommund called to Toben who turned his eye away from the door.

With a mighty heave from them the stone slab fell to the floor, the pair gazing within to see a brightly glowing blue orb in a dip in the hollow alter, blasting energy through small holes in the bottom of the it which must lead outside, whilst four stone snakes where motionless in each corner.

Reaching down towards the orb Grommund pulled back his hand in agony as one of the stone snakes heads lunged out and bit deeply into his exposed hand.

“Arrh” Grommund cried but the pain almost immediately subsided.

“Grommund”Toben called as the door flung open and hearing the clatter of daedric feet pour into the room as it did so.

Wincing in anticipation of another bite Grommund dashed his hands into the alter once more, pulling out the orb, the stone snakes narrowly missing him, only to turn around to see a daedric sword fling towards him as both Grommund and Toben instantly dematerialised in a flash of blue light.

There was a flash of blue light upon the mountainside as the pair materialised in the middle of a snowstorm having replaced the weather from oblivion, with no sight of the portal or shrine. Grommund considered that there may have been an avalanche when he began to realise the danger they were in as the snow settled around them and he felt his face, feet and hands begin to freeze. His hands, he had dropped the stone, though his panic subsided for a moment as he saw Toben clutching it on the floor, who was now shivering erratically; as an imperial he was unable to deal with the cold as well as Grommund, though Grommund feared he would not be able to last much longer than him.

“Okay the dadera have to be somewhere” Grommund called his voice lost in the storm as he pushed his hands through the layers of snow, so cold every moment felt he was once more being bitten by that serpent. However he suddenly felt a rough sharp surface and quickly shifted the snow to reveal a deceased daedric being, presumably killed and buried by the avalanche. Quickly he tugged at his armour removing the helmet, gloves and boots taking them to Toben, who already was pale and blue not even looking towards Grommund as he approached simply continuing to shiver in the cold wind. With Toben unresponsive Grommund forced the armour over Toben exposed limps before pulling himself up to find another suit for himself.

Grommund found one almost immediately as he felt a sudden sharp pain under his foot, looking down to see a distinctive spike of daedric armour poking out of the snow. Shifting the snow and pulling it out Grommund quickly began to equip himself, the cold bighting him ever stronger as his face became frozen and everything began to blur, but upon reaching for the helmet he felt his body give way as he collapsed on the ground before him.

Summoning the last of his energy he turned his head upwards to see his frosty breath curl out before him and then dissipate to reveal two figures standing in the snow before him a young girl of standing beside her mother.

“Mila, Esmeralda”Grommund whispered his lips almost frozen solid, but then he noticed someone else, not beside them but in the distance, watching, their features concealed by a dark hood, Grommund squinted to try and make out the figure but his head collapsed into the snow as he lost consciousness.

(OCC if you don’t remember Mila or Esmeralda it’s because they have been mentioned since my CC

Also they are now out of oblivion and ready to interact.)

 

[Simus]

Simus was impressed with how Baroth dispatched the patrol. All three of the dremora were dead in less than a minute and the older Nord knight had barely broken a sweat. He had charged in with too much zeal though. They had a long way to go before this was done. Their revarie was soon broken however, as an entire platoon of dremora, along with two massive Bloodcrusher demons, was approaching from the east. Blooodcrushers were large, powerful shock demons consisting of a large hellish rhino twice the size of the Nirnan ones in Elsweyr and a mounted man-sized devil with a wicked hellspear. They served to trample, gorge and devour enemy soldiers to clear a path to other troops. Simus had heard tales of such beasts but he had never seen them.

"And here comes the welcoming party. Be sure to be polite and show your manners by giving them a quick, merciless death! To arms!" Baroth yelled, noticing the force but unaware of the danger. Donath charged in right beside him.

"Baroth! Kill the pair of mounted demons! They're directing the others!"

Simus charged in behind them, deciding to conserve the fuel that remained in his jump pack. As he ran, he focused a combination of destruction and restoration magic into his hammer, charging it with both holy energy and lightning magic: fire would do little against these creatures of the hells. Simus' superior strength and run speed allowed him to join battle before his two comrades and he brought his hammer donw in the skull of a dremora mage, the weakest target he could find. In addition to the hammer's normal burst of force and shock magic, Simus' own power released, blinding and burning the daedra with positive energy. All of the beasts were stunned, slowed or crippled but this would only last a few seconds. There were more than enough to wear Simus down and then strip him of his limbs one by one. Hopefully, Baroth and Donath would move to support him.

He stared down a bloodcrusher, the only ones not affected by the magical blinding, gave a yell and charged the beast.

 

[fellowknight]

"Baroth! Kill the pair of mounted demons! They're directing the others!" Simus yelled, shortly before charging into battle and crushing the skull of a Dremora Mage with his Warhammer. Baroth also saw two large rhinos that resembled the native ones of Elsweyr only they were much....Larger. Atop the Rhino's backs were Demons he classified as Dremora, but they surely couldn't be any COMMON Daedra; for their horns were long, black, and sharp, and their faces were scrunched up into snarls or even sly smiles. Baroth, in all his days of fighting evil and exploring Nirn, had never seen anything like this. He heard only rumors of the Nightmarish Beasts and their hellish riders but never saw them in the flesh before. But, for now, the rumors and tales would have to wait; there were beasts to be slain, demons to behead. You are a Knight, Baroth. No, not a warrior, a Knight. And that means you must act as one. If an ally is wounded, you will help. If an evil reveals itself, you will act. If a friend dies, you will avenge. And if the world is in danger, you will sacrifice .You are a knight. Never forget that. Baroth thought.

"Shor, if you can hear me, please protect my friends." Baroth murmured to himself.

Baroth nodded at Simus and began a short, which turned into a run, which turned into a sprint. He felt the hot breeze brush up against his face, he felt the pounding of both his feet and his allies, he heard the roars of the Bloodcrushers, the howls of the demons. It was time to fight. Time to die, if need be. He sprinted down the rust-colored dirt road towards the Bloodcrushers, whom were also charging. As they neared one another, Baroth noticed the demon lowered his spear to waist level; low enough to cut him a good one in the stomach. Baroth, sprinting and grimacing, brought up his sword just in time to block the stroke from the spear. As he blocked, his body was turned to face the backside of the rhino, leaving him a chance. He promptly kneeled, slipped his hand into his left Steel Nordic Boot, grabbed the handle of his honed Iron Dagger, and threw it right into the lower back of the demon. It howled in pain, shortly before making a half U turn and stopping, trying to pull the dagger out of it's back. (Just gave Donath a chance there.)

Then Baroth heard the other one storming towards him, obviously angered by the wound it's friend had endured. It flailed it's spear and made a sideways slash at Baroth's neck, attempting to behead him. Baroth gave him no such pleasure. The aged, battle-ridden knight grabbed the large crimson horn of the rhino,and threw himself up and into the demon's chest, knocking him off his hellish mount. They both crashed into the dirt, the demon howled in anger and tried to get free. Baroth shifted more weight on to the demon and attempted to smash his esophagus with his Steel Shield. The demon raised it's hand and caught the edge of Baroth's shield before unsheathing a daedric dagger and plunging it into Baroth's shoulder. Baroth yelled in pain, dropped his shield, pulled out the dagger, and stabbed the Demon's throat. Then he stood, leaving the dagger behind as he saw the rest of the company falling in.

A Daedra soldier clad in Daedric Armor, sprinted towards him followed by his fellow companions. Baroth took a deep breath and charged.

(OOC: Also saw a pic of the Bloodcrusher, Simus. I love it. Nice addition there man.)

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Mirabelle could be found walking along the stone ledge overlooking the small sleepy village bellow. The woman appeared to be deep in thought. Her younger friend was right. Not only did she need to relax but everyone else deserved some kind of extra payment as a way of saying "thank you for protection" and for the townsfolk, "for building the barricades and scouting the frozen barren tundra". They all deserved some light hearted fun.

The Breton smirked and her inner child jumped up and down with glee. Even the stern woman was excited for what she had planned. Oh yes... Tomorrow, she decided, would be a night to remember.

Little did she know how true that was... In more ways than one.

-------------------------------------------------------

Soldin returned with the glass of water. He did not hear what Alice said and therefore was completely oblivious to the inner turmoil of worry Dabiene had inside. However upon looking at her face she wore a complete mask that only bore mild concern and hidden worries. He assumed it was only to not frighten Alice even more. Because if this usually hard core woman was worried... Everyone was worried. Unless they didn't know her of course. Soldin, Alice, and Cilla knew her pretty much inside out. The woman had her secrets of course... Every woman did. Stuffed full of 'em. Put a bunch of women that knew each other in the same room and sometimes the key was found, unlocking the door and throwing away all privacy in the art of gossip.

That wasn't Dabiene though. She was a private person. Stern. Protective. And fiery when angered. He smirked when he remembered the days he got on her irritated side.

Returning to the now the Nord coughed awkwardly and lifted the glass toward his friend who was trying to comfort the young lady Alice.

-------------------------------------------------------

"The Daedric Prince of Destruction advances on Whiterun, the light of mortals wanes and the silver haired General enters Oblivion to save it. Yet Time has been shackled by the princes. The General cannot save us. All...is lost."

Dabiene held Alice as she sobbed into her shoulder. Rubbing her back she tried to unscramble what had been said.


The Daedric Prince of Destruction... That was easy to figure out who that was. Dagon. Mehrunes Dagon. Dabiene wondered if and when she could get a hold of Herma Mora on how things were going on the Planes. He was always vague and cryptic. Always making her temper known. And always... Making her have more questions than answers. She hadn't spoken with the Prince for around a month or two. Soldin made it clear that Mora wasn't to be trusted. His 'sister' after all was on the side of this chaos and he could follow her lead. But then again, Herma was always neutral at best... Only on his own side to gain whatever he could for himself... Would he side with the innocent souls being maimed and slaughtered by his "fellow Princes"? Or would he side with his 'sister' and the rest of them? He did once say if the mortals died out, everything would be out of balance. However, he also stated this could be the beginning of the end. That by Alduin's destruction could have just set off another string of destruction that was meant to end man, elf, and beast kind.


Dabiene admitted he had a point. Was this the end of them? Or was it a test? Was it a way for the fates to tell the Princes that fate was on the their side? If so... Why couldn't they find a cure and a way to demolish them back to Oblivion?

As for what was said by Alice... 'Dagon obviously had invaded Whiterun. Light of mortals.. Obviously means us. Ones who are fighting back.. Silver haired General... Oh Mara... Simus!' Dabiene shuddered as she remembered what came after it... He had entered Oblivion. One part of her cried 'IMBECILE!' while the other thought quickly and decided that Simus usually if not always knew what was best in a crisis. He probably had help with him. The last part however made her blood run cold.


They couldn't die... Could they? Perhaps it was a warning. If they didn't do something, whether it was him or they, members of the college, the Dawnguard, and others... All would be lost. Alice's visions could be vague, but as revealing as this was... The woman couldn't help but feel there was a missing piece. The piece that was said has revealed the General would fail, and everything would be lost. But what wasn't said, was that if he had help...

It was a shot in the dark, but obviously he would fail and die if he was alone.

They had to have more help... More people to help with research, planning, tactics. There could be an attack soon. Who knew when. But she couldn't shake a horrid feeling she had in her gut. And a werewolf always listened to their gut. Always.

She shook herself to the present and grabbed the glass offered by Soldin. She looked into his eyes and knew that look he had. He had a look of pure strong will to him. Damn Nords. A sad smirk graced her lips and he smiled back. Whatever happened he wasn't going anywhere. Never.

------------------------------------------------------------

Mirabelle waltzed to the door of Dabiene's chambers and knocked softly. The Head could hear soft words uttered, no doubt from her friend, and could hear heavy footfalls coming toard the door. Soldin perhaps. The door was slowly opened to reveal the tall Nord. Before she had a chance to speak however, the man motioned with his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet.

Noticing the confused look on the Arch-Mage's face he stepped aside and allowed her in. "Dabiene is in her room but... I'd be very cautious. Alice had well... Y'know. That." Her eyes widened then nodded in understanding. Alice had a vision and by the guarded look on the man's face, it was a big, bad, and scary one.

Soldin closed the door behind them and led the woman to his friends room. He wasn't joking, Mirabelle realized this as she saw the scene before her eyes. Alice was shaking and her fellow Breton was doing her best to comfort the young woman. Slowly, she walked over and sat down on the bed next to her "Destruction Mistress" as some people dubbed her.

Mirabelle rubbed her hands in worry and hesitation. Perhaps now wasn't the best time... She voiced as such, "Well... I was going to deliver some news... Good news I was hoping but perhaps now isn't the time is it?"

The Breton werewolf glanced over while sighing, "If it's good news I'd make it quick. Otherwise... It will have to wait." The message was clear. Say it and leave. End of. No dilly dallying.

Nodding she launched herself into it, "Well, I thought over what you said and you were right."

The woman raised a brow at her boss.

Taking a deep breath the Arch-mage continued, "I thought much through it and decided that perhaps... If you are willing to help along with the others, that we'll throw a grand Ball for the town and the College."

Dabiene's eyes were bugging out of her head while her employer continued, "Now, I know what you're thinking, watches, guard shifts, and yes everyone will have a chance. It will be tomorrow--"

"What? Tomorrow? Um... I know I'm a guest and all and have no idea how fast you work on such events but isn't that a little... Sudden?" Soldin spoke up now. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how this could possibly work.

"Well, Dabiene will be part of the chaperone crew as will you, although she will also have the first half our shift, followed by Faralda, Tolfdir, and so forth. There will also be other falculty at certain points. They will shift so everyone will have some time to join in on the party. I'll do a little planning on shifts later and change them as I got on with it."

"That doesn't explain how this will be done..." The middle aged werewolf voiced her concerns. Soldin was right, how on all of Nirn was this going to happen? In less than 48 hours?

"Well, you're the 'Mistress of Destruction'--" Dabiene groaned at the title, "--Are you not? You also have some class so I'm sure you can use your skills to... 'Lift' the joy around here?" Mirabelle wore a smirk.

"Yes but would you actually tell me what the theme is? I won't know exactly what I need to do before I know the theme."

"There will be Faralda and a few others helping you. Oh, she loves parties. No matter how much of a 'Tom boy' she is." The cursed smirk was still on her face. "As for the theme... Well, how about our young ladies decide that hmm??" She motioned to Alice and Cilla then stood up. Oh no. The two were going to go bonkers with this. The two loved dress up and parties. Although... She guessed spririts needed to be lifted, so... 'Let them go nuts...'*

"I'm hoping you know how to dance Soldin. Would be quite interesting to see you in a regal gentlemen's outfit wouldn't it?" The woman laughed as she walked out, Soldin's jaw hanging in disbelief.

"Oh sweet Divines.." Dabiene Caristiana couldn't believe it. Could this day start off any more crazy?

And most importantly... She had to teach Soldin how to dance.

'Great.'


(OOC: THERE YOU HAVE IT! Whoot! Severus will come up next. )

*Also, anyone recognize this? "Let them eat cake"? Eh? Eh? Yeah I know, bad pun/joke/reference. Don't let me ruin my moment! D:

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Severus looked over, seeing his friend debating the situation they were in.

Jeroo sighed. "Too much cold gets on my nerves and causes me discomfort, but you're right, it'll have to do for now." Severus nodded. Although they were both dead they did share one other thing in common. Along with some other vampires. The cold did bother them. Whether they were 'cold hearted' or not made no difference. He listened as the Argonian Vampire continued. "No offense, but most Nords, mainly the guards, are too proud and ignorant to learn about another culture." The Nord silently chuckled. 'Non taken' he thought to himself. "They'd think I was making up the Nagas tribe. Besides, what would an Argonian that lives or had lived that deep into Argonia be doing in Skyrim? I've used that lie successfully before, but the guards are actually paying attention now and they wouldn't believe that for a second. So yes, we should stay here for a day, but no longer. We can only assume how long it'll take 'til were in jeopardy of being discovered or encountering one or more of those creatures again.", said Jeroo-Shei wisely. "Yes. We'll leave before sunrise tomorrow. I want to get to Winterhold as soon as possible if we can. The sooner we get their the better the protection and more information we can get. A nice meal and some help would be nice too..." Severus replied.

Jeroo then squatted to the ground and sat down with his tail curved. The Nord vampire followed his actions then sat back, leaning on his arms. It was quiet for a time before his companion asked, "It has plenty of Blood Potions, right?" He motioned to his large leather pouch the undead man always carried. "I don't mean to waste any, but could I have one or two as the night goes by to help get through this intense cold? Some warm blood would help me as I endure it."

Severus thought it over and shrugged. A little wouldn't hurt. Before he left their ransacked cave he added ingredients and certain mixtures to enhance the blood. This time one drop could do the job of two drops. Severus loved Alchemy, Destruction, and Conjuration. But unlike his other undead brethren he didn't like reanimating the dead... He couldn't shake off his Nordic heritage. But it wasn't just that. Disrespecting the dead was... Dishonorable. Disgraceful and offending. No matter the cause. Every time he entered a Nordic tomb he would always send silent prayers to the dead. He may have always been a bastard but deep down, he had his values and virtues. And beliefs. Just like everyone else.

"I don't see any harm in it. By the way I forgot to mention, I enhanced the potion's properties. You only need to consume half of what you usually would to have the same results." He said as he unbuttoned and reached into his pouch. "I would guess you would only need a sip or two before... Jeroo?" He stopped talking and looked at his companion. The Argonian's gaze was locked at something in the distance. The Nord followed his gaze. His eyes narrowed as he saw one human shaped figure running from three figures of the same body shape as the abominations.

"Wonderful..." he growled under his breath while scowling. Removing his hand from the pouch without the potion, he snapped said pouch closed. Standing up he could hear yelling and shouting.

Turning back to the running victim he drew his sword. He wasn't a master swordsman per say but Harkon did teach him a few things...

"I guess we're going to have some company... Been a while since I had a nice glass of wine with some of the Prince's play things." The man bit out sarcastically while he continued to scowl. Looking over he nodded, signaling that now was a good time to fight as any. There were only three. And even if the person running away could fight in his panicked state, he and Jeroo-shei could handle the foul things with ease.

"Ready?" He asked while looking toward the commotion.

 

[Gregor Moon Fang]

Flashes of destruction flurried through Qiana'a mind. The destruction of her tribe's homeland roaring with flame, the faces of her fallen tribe, empty of life. The images then fast forward to a different area. The skies emblazoned in a purplish fire, buildings in shambles, numerous people littering the ground, from seasoned warriors to unguarded civilians. The images take a closer look at the silhouettes from afar. When Qiana comes to, the silhouette takes the form of Dian'Mie with Qiana watching from her the silhouette version of her. Qiana watches in horror as the dremora slays Dian'Mie and slowly walks up to her, complete terror on her face. In an act of desperation, the silhoutette takes off her jade amulet and covers it with her hands, chanting in the ancient Yokudan language. "What am I doing?" Qiana thought to herself. She barely has time to say the last of the chant before weakly letting out the words "He must be victorious." With one fell swoop, the dremora brings down his sword, killing her.

"AHHHH!!" Qiana yells out escaping from the visions. She checks her surroundings and finds herself in a section of the Nether tunnels. "A dream?" Qiana crawls over to Dian'Mie and shakes him. "Dian'Mie wake up!"

"Mmmh. Five more minutes, Lady Sayya." After a few more attempts, she realized that waking Dian'Mie now would be close to impossible. Now what was she supposed to do? She has no knowledge whatsoever of these tunnels and it's too dark to see anything. But she's too scared to go back to sleep. Kirah wobbled over on her cobbed feet to Qiana's side.

"I guess a little recon couldn't hurt right Kirah?" The raven cawed in agreement before flapping her wings

until she was at about head level of Qiana. Qiana then cast a Night Eye spell on herself so that the tunnels appeared much brighter. She was thankful that she grew up in the Moon Fang tribe instead of the Sun Fang tribe as the Sun Fang tribe saw magic the same way most of Hammerfell did: that it was for the weak and the wicked. Still it couldn't hurt to learn magic that benefited herself as well as others.

After several minutes of walking, Qiana and Kirah came upon a small group of dremora: 2-3 tops. One of the dremora was playing around with a staff of some sort when it ignited a fireball from the tips and just barely missed the head of one of the dremora. In anger the third snatched the staff out of the incompetent dremora's hands.

"Fool. That is not a toy. It is a gift from Lord Dagon."

"Dagon? THE Mehrunes Dagon?" Qiana thought to herself. One of the dremora caught notice of something and unsheated his sword.

"I smell weakness."

"Uh oh." Qiana quickly cast a Muffle Spell on herself followed by an Invisibility spell on herself and Kirah. She then takes out her bow and strikes down the pursuing dremora. The other two are alerted from the first dremora's death and search around. Qiana sheathes her bow back on her back and takes out an ebony dagger from her waist. One of the dremora notices Qiana's prescence just as the Invisibility wears off and takes a swing at her. Qiana does a small somersault before coming right behind the dremora and slices his throat. Jsust as she does the third dremora takes a swing at her from behind. Qiana senses this and quickly ducks under the swing. She does a small spin and sweeps the dremora off of his feet. The dremora falls to the ground dropping his sword. He quickly comes to and lunges at his sword. However Qiana beats him to it and puts a firm foot on the hilt before casting a pacify spell on the dremora. The teal light forms around him, the hostility gone.

"What do you wish of me, my lady?"

"I still got it." Qiana thinks to herself with a smile on her face. "Show me the way to the Sigil Stone's tower. I know that you know of its location."

"I do indeed my lady. Please follow me." The dremora took back his sword and sheathed it. He then started walking southward towards a fork in the road. After a brief moment of hesitation he walked through the path to the left. As for what was mere minutes but felt like hours the dremora stopped in his tracks.

"Why are you stopping, dremora? There is no tower here." The dremora gave a slight chuckle before turning around.


"Fear not my lady. You will see the tower. One way or another." Right when he says that Qiana is hit with a blast of energy from behind. "Take her to Lord Dagon."

"My body. What is happening to my body?" Qiana thought to herself.

"I'm guessing that the paralysis is starting to kick in. Good work private."

"I've got to...warn Dian'Mie." Qiana barely got her fingers to her mouth, calling Kirah over. She emitted a light blue light from her fingertip and drew a large symbol on Kirah's back. "Return to Dian'Mie with the utmost of haste." Kirah cawed in understanding as she flew off into the darkness of the tunnels. That was the last thing Qiana saw before she blacked out.

 

[Simus]

(OOC: A short post before bed. Something for Simus tomorrow. Right now, the girls.)

Alice sobbed into Dabiene's shoulder, filled with despair, but quieted down when Mirabelle came in. She didn't like to cry or show extreme emotion in front of the Arch Mage. It made her feel weak. This was an erroneous concept, Dabiene had told her but she had her father's pride. She simply listened to the ladies' exchange, trying to make as little noise as possible but still scared and gloomy over what she Saw. Cilla knew this and wanted to help but she knew from experience that Dabiene did the best work when this happened. Right now, Cilla and Soldin just needed to give them both space: hugs and ice cream could come later, once Alice had calmed down and Dabiene was less protective.

Cilla thought the ball was a wonderful idea. It had been ages since they had a real party and Cilla loved parties. They were always so much fun! Alice loved to dress up and help set up things and talk to people, her extroverted side really came out. Cilla liked to watch people and listen, then talk to the people who were the most interesting. She was like her brother Titus in that way: stuff your face while taking in the room and then find the most interesting group. Alice simply wanted to talk to everyone and their dad was never quite one for parties. After the talking died down, she spoke up.

"Well Miss Mirabelle, I for one think a ball's a great idea! We can dress up and dance and eat cake and get out fancy plates....oooh this is gonna be great! Back home in Cyrodiil, I would always help mama pick out the food for parties and Alice would always decorate. Sometimes she gets a little carried away but she never ever forgets anything! Right Alice!?"

Alice turned to her little sister and gave a tearful smile and nodded. The little snuggler could always find a way to cheer her up. Cilla then got next to Soldin, not going much higher than his chest, and smiled up at Mirabelle. Then she got a puzzled look on her face and rubbed one of her covered feet in a circle.

"Um...I don't think now's a good time to start planning. Alice isn't thinking good right now and her visions make her tired. Especially big scary ones like now. And I'm hungry Dabs."

She then looked up to Soldin, hoping that he too was hungry so Dabiene could make them breakfast.

"I'm hungry too." Alice said hoarsely, her face covered in tears. "And my head hurts. I'm so sorry about all this, I know I totally killed the mood and I'm in my pj's in front of you Arch-Mage and that's kind of disrespectful. I'm sorry."

She then laid her head down on Dabiene's chest, under her chin. She felt safer there and being held helped.