Private The Last Dragonborn

[Artemis Shadows]

I remember...back when I was so much younger...so much more ignorant of the world..that I found peace. I could actually sleep and have careless dreams...Seryn had silently watched as everyone had retreated to their bedrolls and she also watched as each one fell asleep so easily. A sigh escaped her lips as she looked up at the caverns walls and continued examining them for what seemed to be hours. A man was the first too rise, Irelius, she believed that was his name. Seryn closed her eyes and rolled onto her side as he footsteps passed her. For a moment it was silent, but her sharp hearing caught a sound coming from deeper in the cave. Again and again it seemed to happen, so the elf stood and followed the noise. Irelius appeared to be training, or just randomly throwing around spells for fun. A smile flicked across her face as she wondered what being a mage was like. Seryn flinched when the soft sound of a thud reached her ears and she watched as the man just lay there and chuckled. Her head tilted slightly and she watched from the shadows, Such a strange yet intriguing person.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

Roggvar woke silently, quickly observing his surroundings. The silence in the room was a stagnant pool of warm water, coating everything with its dullness. It felt as if the floor was glass, and any small move may break the silence and the room itself. He slipped carefully out of his bag and tightly wrapped it in a length of cord, stuffing it back in his saddlebag. Roggvar noticed Irelius, the mage, was awake. The rest of the adventurers were still sleeping, as far as he could tell. He pulled off his pine green hooded tunic, and replaced it for a brown sleeveless shirt, then placing his camouflaged curiass over it. He strapped his hide boots on, grabbed his bracers and silently trotted outside, bringing with him an apple he had purchased yesterday.

I think it's time I take a little walk.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

The crunchy leaves of the forest floor were an obvious giveaway to most anyone who stepped on them. But with Roggvar, the leaves made no noise beneath his feet. The forest was his playground, and when he was a child, every spare minute was spent in its depths.

His horse, Brego, was sleeping on the tall grass, still tethered to a tree just outside the cave's mouth. Roggvar grasped his ears and looked into his eyes. "How are you, old friend?" The horse carefully nudged Roggvar's face, licking the ranger's cheek. "Here you go." He took a bite of the red apple and placed the remainder in the horse's mouth. It munched gratefully on the fruit, growing tired of the grass it had grazed on since they arrived. Roggvar couldn't stand the clutter of the cave any longer. He slowly strolled down the remote trail that meandered to the cave mouth. It was small and nearly invisible unless you knew it was there. As he walked, the morning breeze made a familiar whistle in the brambles of the evergreens. Before he knew it, his stroll became a walk, his walk became a run. As Roggvar sprinted down the path. A low-hanging branch tempted him in a tree to his right. He used his momentum to grasp the branch and swing himself onto the trunk, grasping it and climbing its strong limbs. As he reached the top of the tree, more early sunlight poured from the top boughs. He broke the surface and sat on the highest stable branch, where the sun reached and warm his cool arms. Thinking of his arms, he fastened his bracers on as he scoured the forest below. As he casually strung his bow, plunk plunking it to test the taught string, he caught a blink of motion in the corner of his vision. He carefully turned, and saw an elk, too far off to accurately shoot, grazing in a clearing. Maybe this farm boy will have a use after all.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya awoke to the sound of magic and the smell of cold. She listened for a moment and then sat up, looking around. The Nord boy was gone, a fact that pleased her. She looked over toward the source of the sound and saw the Nightingale standing there, watching Irelius fiddle with magic, and she immediately lost interest. Other elves were not to be trusted as far as she was concerned.

Instead, Anya stretched and laid back on her bed roll. She was intrigued by the insane man Virk and the little Breton Remy. They were the only two she felt she could trust to any degree, perhaps because Virk did not seem to be capable of treachery and Remy was not a physical threat. Since both of them were asleep, she sighed and tried to be patient. She'd already decided she had to know what the insane one had done to his father.

 

[Snoball]

Sleep served a bigger purpose than just catching rest for Remy, it was a release. Being able to dream of a time before the dragons returned, a time much simpler than this was one of many things the Dwemer-crazed enigma held dearest to him. Most consisted of childhood and teenage memories, back when he built not to serve a definitive purpose, but to emulate his father's work. Yet he'd often get the same dream often. A memory of sitting on his father's lap, telling Remy a simple phrase that would stick with the him to this day. "Life is your ocean. It doesn't matter how treacherous it may be, whether you stay afloat depends on how much you are determined to be afloat. So son, will you sink or will you float?" Remy knew what his answer was at the time, but has forgotten since then. Each day the dragonborn threatens more lives, Remy feels himself sinking deeper, especially without his father's guidance.

Waking up staring at the ceiling, Remy picks himself up and changes out of his worn-out clothes. He pulls a lightweight wrench from his satchel to re-tighten the bolts on his eye and arm, which release some steam upon adjustment. Remy puts on a fresh white suit and takes out tools needed for the day. Lastly, he pulls the diary from his bag for just a moment.

"I sure hope your safe.
~519 days"

He puts it away and steps out from his room. It appears that everyone but Virk was already awake, yet Roggvar was nowhere to be found. "It seems the ol' chap is taking care of his own matters." Irelius was training as the Wood Elf whom Remy had yet to introduce himself was watching him. Anya was just sitting by minding her own business, something on her mind by the looks of it. "Morning, friends! I trust you all slept nicely?" He addressed the group while setting up a cooking pot near the center of the cavern. The group didn't have food yet, but he set it up regardless. Remy believed a family that eats together, co-exists together.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk opened his eyes gently. Shaking his head he got up already with his clothes on. He put on his belt of shivs and his two different boots. The question of the reason of wearing that floated by his mind. "Why not...?" Was his reply, as usual for anything he could not explain. Sighing, he began juggling in the dark, training his dexterity and amusing himself at the same time, until a shiv slid through his fingers and the sound of steel hitting the floor echoed through the cave. He immediatly picked it up and stopped juggling, afraid someone might still be asleep.

 

[heliumradio]

"Morning, friends! I trust you all slept nicely?"

Anya kept her eyes closed, a small smile on her face. "Good morning, Remy." He was rummaging around with something, but she didn't feel the need to look. She hoped it was food. She didn't carry much with her, and she'd run out the night before.

A loud crack of steel on rock drew her attention, so she sat up and looked around. The boy still hadn't returned, the Nightingale hadn't moved away from the mage, Remy was indeed dealing with the food issue, and Virk was fumbling around with his shivs again. She stood and ambled over to the crazy man. "Sleep well?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk atempted to hide the shivs behind his back, trying to not look like the one who made the noise, when the elf spoke. But she had already noticed it was him so he gave up. "Let's just say Virk managed to fall asleep." He had told the truth, but not all of it. He had a terrible nightmare about vampires. His mother being bitten and becoming one was the worst part. Remembering those dreams, he shook his head. "W-w-what a... about Anya?" Tension was easily noticed among his words, as the nightmares were still affecting his behaviour.

 

[heliumradio]

"Well enough, considering the circumstances." She saw him try to hide the shivs and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You didn't wake anyone, brother. Relax." She sounded more Khajiit, more like Jo'Rakha, when she was trying to comfort someone, a habit she'd never seen fit to break.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Looks like you guys are getting comfortable." Roggvar stood at the mouth of the cave, the morning light warming the cold walls of the cave around him. "Anyone hungry? 'Cause I'm starving!" Roggvar strolled into the center of the circle and opened his game bag, revealing 2 rabbits and 3 squirrels, all strung on a length of braided leather cord. Roggvar quickly jogged back outside, and came back with something dark across his back. "... and the final piece!" With a thnk, the ranger dropped a wolf on the ground. "The bloke tried to make me into breakfast... but look at that shot!" He pointed to the wolf's arrow wound, placed perfectly behind the shoulder, going straight into the heart. He quickly pulled an accent he remembered hearing on a distinguished chef he met in his travels, "Mwah!" Roggvar kissed his hand and waved it at the arrow wound. "Perfecto!"

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Hate to go so quickly, but I think I saw some leeks, and maybe a juniper bush down by the river. Anyone here know how to cook? I'm half decent, but everything tastes like dog meat when I cook it."

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The imperial sighed reliefed as she comforted him. "Where were Virk and Anya before they went to sleep?" Virk spoke with a smile. His smile then vanished when he remembered the subject of their chat. "Oh... Virk's father..." The nord showed up with a bunch of hunted animals and so Virk noticed his stomach was growling a long time ago. "Does Anya still want to know the story?" His voice now wielded a demoralized tone, both by the hunger and the sadness. He then turned to the nord. "Virk is absent knowledge about cooking. Apologies." The madman never had tried, but it was not in such a pressing condition he would try and risk to poison someone.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya waved her hand at the boy dismissively and kept her attention on Virk. She could hear pain in his voice, and she considered not asking further questions, but he seemed willing enough to tell. "Yes, if you can."

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

By the time Roggvar returned with the plants he had gathered, still no one had accepted his offer to cook. "If you insist." Roggvar pulled his orcish dagger from its sheath and started skinning the animals, placing their entrails and other inedible areas into a separate pile. Then he begun to skin the fat from the animals' hides, carefully stroking with the broad side of his knife. At last, he wiped his dagger on the thick cloth of his pants and slid it back into its sheath. "Anyone wanna help me start the fire?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk gathered his strength to get some wood to help making fire. "If Anya wishes to know, may she accompany Virk while he gathers wood and tells the grim story of his father's death?" He grabbed a nearby woodcutter's axe and closed his eyes while approaching the mouth of the cave, due to the intense sunlight.

 

[Humbungala]

Irelius looked behind him over his shoulder and saw that Mr. Green was skinning animals he had hunted and brought in. Irelius' hunger then suddenly hit him. He reached into a pouch around his waist and grabbed what was left of a loaf of elvish bread from his journey. I forgot that I've been getting by on this awfully stale bread. It had rained when Irelius passed the plains near whiterun, and his bread had been stale since then. He placed his hand on his stomach and felt it growling. Irelius heard Mr. Green ask everyone to help make a fire. He smiled, stood up and walked towards the pile of skinned animals. Irelius ignited his hands with fire, "I can help with that."

 

[Snoball]

There "dining area" had been set. Remy finished setting up the pot's stand and the mats around it. He responded to Roggvar regarding the fire. "Already on it Mr. Green!" His face suddenly went blank before thinking to himself. "Or not." All that was left was to set up a fire, not quite Remy's specialty. He had never practiced destruction magic, so that was no good. He kept a couple of small logs and two sticks around to start one up the old-fashioned way, again, no good. "How the hell do adventurers make this look so easy? Come on sticks, light up!" After about five good minutes of him attempting to ignite a flame, he leaned back on his mat and called it quits. From there he saw the flames in Irelius's palms and stood right back up, approaching him. "Fire magic! If you can start up the fire, we can get this show on the road! Don't use the sticks though, I think they're broken or something."

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Seryn watched as everyone had migrated too an area where they would prepare their meal. The elf was not hungry, she wasn't accustomed too such things as sitting down and having a warm meal. Perhaps this would be a good time for some well deserved solitude. As everyone was distracted by something, she simply strolled out of the cave and outside. Her eyes squinted against the burning glare of the sun and she threw up her hood and mask. With a few quick glances around, Seryn set off for a nice walk. The area seemed quiet, especially a few miles away from the cave. A sound of an animal being the only one Seryn could hear. The woman leaned on a tree and closed her eyes. With the snap of a twig, her amber eyes opened and her bow was already in her hands. It was not a animal...no...too heavy of a step. Seryn pulled an arrow out of it's quiver and aimed for where the sound had come from. A stag came prancing out and Seryn lowered her bow and shook her head. Paranoia..perhaps?. She put away her weapon and crossed her arms, scolding herself silently. A clatter of metal caused Seryn too whirl around but it was too late, a sword came whizzing past her. She jumped back but it cut into her armor and gashed her stomach. The woman ducked from another swing that would've taken her head clean off her shoulders. Seryn turned and ran, as fast as her feet would carry her. This foe however, pursued her. She gabbed her bow and quickly pulled out an arrow and turned around, it slowed her pace but if she could just concentrate....the arrow whizzed through the air and buried itself right between the eyes of her enemy. Seryn stopped and gasped for breath, the ordeal had scared her but she'd never admit it. She put her hand over her bleeding wound, upon closer inspection it wasn't serious...but it would leave a scar. Holding the gash, Seryn walked closer and investigated. He could've been a bandit...no...This armor...where have I seen it.... The armor was different, almost odd in design, yet it seemed familiar. Seryn was almost 100% sure she had seen it somewhere. She shook her head and looted the body, only finding three gold coins which she pocketed, and rolled the body into some bushed. Seryn grimaced and began the trek back too the cave.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya nodded and grabbed her weapons. The others didn't look like they needed any help. She wielded minor destructive fire, but Remy and the mage seemed to have control of that problem. She followed Virk outside, blinking in the bright sun and enjoying the bite of fresh air. Just as they stepped out, the Nightingale rushed past then, and Anya thought she saw blood.

She argued with herself for a moment before coming to the conclusion that Virk was decidedly more interesting than the standoffish Nightingale. She'd barely spoken except to show off that she had read about the Dragonborn, with a few words thrown at the Nord boy when they sparred. In her eyes, it was elves like the Nightingale that gave them all a bad name. The boy, too, with his arrogance and constant need to talk. Neither one of them sat well with Anya, but then, Nords and elves rarely did.

Rather than dwell further, she turned her attention to Virk. "So your father, then?"

 

[Humbungala]

Remy's lack of knowledge on how to start a fire brought a smile to Irelius' lips. I guess I can't say much really, I can just light a fire on command. Not sure how I'd do without it. Irelius looked at Remy, "My friend, broken sticks can be lit as well, don't you worry." Irelius let out a small chuckle and removed the fire in his hands in order to form a stick pile under the cooking pot. Once he was finished, he snapped his fingers and a flame burned on his thumb. He looked up a Remy, gave him a coy smile and blew onto his thumb, igniting the pile of sticks almost immediately. Irelius stood up and turned back to Mr. Green. "When do you think you can get the food ready?"