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    Sweetroll76

    Member
    Name: Eoluen the Gentle
    Race: Breton
    Gender: female
    Class: Conjurer/Alchemist.
    Appearance: Tbh


    The tavern door creaks open, followed by the telltale thump of heavy armor against the wooden floor, and the labored breath of a female. Upon closer examination, everything about her is strange. She seems to be in her late 20's to early 30's. Her face is round, with rosy cheeks beneath the dirt and grime of the day. Her skin is both pale and tan, a de-saturated brown color if you will, which against her royal blue eyes is again, odd. A scar made up of 3 jagged lines runs across the right side of her face, like an animal raked it claws across her lip and cheek. Her short, reddish-brown hair is held out of her face by a once-white hankerchief, now sullied with dirt and strange splotches of color. She is short, standing around at '5,5' but is surprisingly sturdy due to her pear-shaped body. She is dressed in...rather outlandish attire. It's really the body armor that sticks out so bad: the shoulder pads, as well as the breast plate, are made by what seems to be chitin plating, all the way from Solstheim. Underneath the plating is Netch leather, and some hints of corundum metal around the edges. A red cloth is wrapped around the collar, insinuating it is used to cover the mouth when needed. Besides the armor, the female stranger wears simple working gloves, as well as ordinary boots. Her hands grip the strap of a rather ordinary satchel, the thing lugged over her shoulder. "By the eight!" she exclaims breathlessly (her voice legitmately sounds like the ingame female voice for the dragonborn), "I really should have thought that through!"

    "Did you go all the way to Hjaalmarch again?" The barmaid behind the counter folds her arms on the wooden counter in sly amusement, simply looking at the bizarre woman with a cocked eyebrow.
    The woman hesitates, looking at her before looking away "I may have..." she begins while grinning sheepishly "taken an unplanned trip."

    The barmaid gives a loud exasperated sigh, to which the woman defends "Lots of deathbells grow near there! And Deathbells are costly!"
     

    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    Hulgar turns to see the young Breton enter the tavern. He downs another tankard of mead. "Another foreigner. Soon all of Skyrim will look like the Reach with all these Bretons."
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    The woman's eyes flick over to the nord, and she frowns, squinting at him, but in a rather disappointed manner. She lumbers over toward him, and as delicately as possible, sets down her bulging satchel onto the ground before climbing up to sit on the stool next to Hulgar. She removes her gloves and places them next to her before folding them delicately on the wooden surface. "Hey now, not all of us are from the Reach. I personally am not. I'm from the rural regions toward Falkreath. There's no need to be so distrustful" she reasons, having a surprisingly soft voice, sounding more or less legitmately concerned.
     

    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    "I've been all over Skyrim and the Reach is crawling with Bretons," grumbled Hulgar. "Can't go anywhere without getting ambushed by Forsworn."
    Hulgar looked at the bottom of his tankard, feeling the mead taking it's affect.
    "So what brings you this far north?"
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    She grimaces even more, sad that she was unable to lighten up his mood. She orders some Honningbrew mead herself, but doesn't really touch it at first. She brightens at his question with hope "oh! I was visiting a friend for a bit. This is where I'm staying while I do some studies of the local flora." She gestures to her bag, and seems to be an avid talker with her hands


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    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    "Must be some hard working going across Skyrim looking for flowers. Need any help?"
    He takes a swig of his recently filled cup.
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    This seems to confuse he, and she flushes in embarrassment. "Uh.... That depends on how much you know about plants!" she gives the smallest of chuckles, it being a little bit awkward and unsure.
     

    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    Hulgar scraped his mind on what he knew about plants. "I had an aunt who used to live out in Morthal. When I was a boy she would show me the different mixtures she would make. Rockjoint got her about 10 years ago. May she rest in Sovngarde."
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    Her face saddens "Ah...my condolences" she then chuckles a little "I don't usually go to Morthal, most of them eh...don't trust people like me." She gives a sheepish laugh and a shrug. "Anywho, if you really are interested in helping me, I would be happy to lend you my book to help you identify certain plants!"


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    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    "Well I don't have any jobs at the moment so I guess I'll take a look." Hulgar gets up and stretches. He stumbles a little but regains his balance. He then pulls out a coin purse and sets it on the counter.
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    She watches him, tensing up when he stumbles and instinctively reaches an arm out to steady him, but pulls back quickly. Some people just dont appreciate the 'help'. "Oh-d-do you expect payment?"


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    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    "I don't get much work these days so I'm fine without payment." Hulgar pulls out a map and presents it to Eoluen. "Where to?"
     

    Mirro9@

    Mirro9@
    As attention is diverted from him Micael abandons the rune he was tracing to watch the interaction between this new woman and Hulgar, laughing to himself and finishing his stew.
    With a sudden motion Micael stands up snatching up his brandy and raising it up.
    "My lady you seem to be quite heavily armored for flower collecting. I would be a poor excuse of a man if I did not offer you my services. I expect no payment though...i would very much like an introduction to whoever made that odd armor you wear."
     

    Sweetroll76

    Member
    She leans over, squinting at it and bringing it closer to her face. Its a wonder she hasn't had her face snapped off by a carnivorous plant. She mutters to herself as she traces her finger along the map. Her head then snaps up, startled by Micael, not noticing him before this moment. She blinks at him, her shoulders relaxing, and she smiles gently at him, relieved to see a Breton who isnt a stick in the mud. She takes a glance down at her armor before chuckling slightly nervously, "I know it must seem odd, but I tend to find myself in the wrong places at the wrong time." She jokes, sheepishly. She looks between the two men, before smiling. "But perhaps I will happily accept your services in exchange for that knowledge. He'll love the service. She then goes to stand up, not taking a sip of her mead. She might not be a huge drinker. "I heard of A cave nearby that has a lot of glowing mushrooms. Unfortunately Iii am not very familiar with the land here. You all have horses? Or do you want to walk there?"


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    Mirro9@

    Mirro9@
    Smiling sheepishly Micael replies, "You could say I'm fresh off the boat. I have little to my name but the clothes on my back, my coin purse and my blade. If you don't mind the delay is like to find a solid shield and I could speak to someone to buy a good horse. It seems no matter what my business in Skyrim I will be needing both."
    He then finishes his brandy and leaves a half dozen septims on the bar giving the khajit bartender a nod.
     

    JRMoosePaul

    Stormcloak Warrior
    Hulgar turns to Micael. "There's a blacksmith on the way up to Castle Dour. Decent steel and a good price." He then looks to Eoluen. "I can get us a set of steads at the stables. Geimund still owes me a favor so I can probably get a good deal." He looks to the mead that was left on the bar. He looks to Eoluen eagerly. "You gonna finish that?"
     

    Mirro9@

    Mirro9@
    Micael gives her a playful smile, "I am. The Name is Micael Reinhart. My family were once prominent knights in the homeland."
    As he stands and gathers his few possessions he looks to the large nord.
    "Are you still coming or does the idea of traveling with a couple foreigners sour your milk?" he says sarcastically. Looking back to the Breton woman he asks, "Have you ever been to the homeland? It's quite beautiful."
     

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