fellowknight
The Devil In The Details
Markarth.
A city of sweaty-browed merchants, forsworn plots, and dark discovery. The city had run for years, decades even, on the ancient dwemer buildings and contraptions left behind by their former masters during the first era. The city itself was a cesspool of silver mines and unknown plots, all unfolding around an ancient evil, one that had yet to be seen.
Markarth. A city of wonder and innovation. A scientist of sorts, somewhere within the mountain side, had dedicated an entire museum to the study of Dwemer technology and architecture. A truly amazing set of halls and rooms now decorated the inner chambers of Understone Keep. But sometimes, even in the case of extraordinary discovery, some things needed to stay asleep and undisturbed.
Markarth.
The prime target of Gorbit's latest vision; one that included fire, screaming, and shadow. This is what drew him here. The promise of a dark future within those walls.
Something under the mines...
Under...
But when he raised his gaze to thank the man immensely, he was gone. The gates to Markarth closed with a loud click, Cedran only seeing a white staff disappearing behind the doors.
In the city, a cloaked figure moved across the empty streets and vacant merchant stalls, towards the Silver-Blood Inn. He glanced back once, mapping out the city with old, tired eyes, before turning back to the Inn's doors, pushing them open.
He was greeted first by the warm dry breeze of the large hearth fire at the other side of the room. For a moment, Gorbit found peace within this room, his mind wandering back to a vision he had two years ago. One of the future...
He shook his head slowly, releasing himself from the current troubles of the world, and walking over to the counter. Once there, he pulled back his hood to reveal his long, groomed mane of dark ash hair and his untamed chest-beard. A circlet lay nestled around his mid-forehead, the center gem of it glowing a baby blue, as Gorbit looked around the ancient tavern with a warm smile before taking a seat on the stool beside him, and looking to the Innkeeper, Kleppr.
"Ah yes. I'll have one Horker Loaf with a baked biscuit. Would you happen to have any Argonian Bloodwine?" He asked with the same warm embrace.
Kleppr shook his head and nodded to the right side of the room, behind him.
"Nope. The reserves we have are already being saved for some ridiculous party the Silver-Blood Family is throwing in a few weeks. Sorry, Gorbit. Need anything else?"
Gorbit nodded friendly. "I'll take a fresh Ale instead, then." He said, his right hand gliding up to the counter to drop a small pouch of coins before the man, whom promptly accepted them and began preparing his order.
While he did so, Gorbit took the time to look about the filled room, his white staff in his left hand, and his brown leather satchel at his side, just beneath his dark grey cloak.
A city of sweaty-browed merchants, forsworn plots, and dark discovery. The city had run for years, decades even, on the ancient dwemer buildings and contraptions left behind by their former masters during the first era. The city itself was a cesspool of silver mines and unknown plots, all unfolding around an ancient evil, one that had yet to be seen.
Markarth. A city of wonder and innovation. A scientist of sorts, somewhere within the mountain side, had dedicated an entire museum to the study of Dwemer technology and architecture. A truly amazing set of halls and rooms now decorated the inner chambers of Understone Keep. But sometimes, even in the case of extraordinary discovery, some things needed to stay asleep and undisturbed.
Markarth.
The prime target of Gorbit's latest vision; one that included fire, screaming, and shadow. This is what drew him here. The promise of a dark future within those walls.
Something under the mines...
Under...
......
A warm setting sun illuminated the peaks around the stables, lengthening the shadow of a cloaked man on a horse, his head lowered as he steered his brown, white-nosed horse towards the hostler. He stopped a few feet short of the man and climbed down from his horse, reaching into one of the pouches at the steed's side as he did so, a white blur being tossed over the horse only to barely be caught by Cedran. The man went wide-eyed when he realized what he was holding. A diamond. By all the stars white! An actual diamond!
But when he raised his gaze to thank the man immensely, he was gone. The gates to Markarth closed with a loud click, Cedran only seeing a white staff disappearing behind the doors.
In the city, a cloaked figure moved across the empty streets and vacant merchant stalls, towards the Silver-Blood Inn. He glanced back once, mapping out the city with old, tired eyes, before turning back to the Inn's doors, pushing them open.
He was greeted first by the warm dry breeze of the large hearth fire at the other side of the room. For a moment, Gorbit found peace within this room, his mind wandering back to a vision he had two years ago. One of the future...
He shook his head slowly, releasing himself from the current troubles of the world, and walking over to the counter. Once there, he pulled back his hood to reveal his long, groomed mane of dark ash hair and his untamed chest-beard. A circlet lay nestled around his mid-forehead, the center gem of it glowing a baby blue, as Gorbit looked around the ancient tavern with a warm smile before taking a seat on the stool beside him, and looking to the Innkeeper, Kleppr.
"Ah yes. I'll have one Horker Loaf with a baked biscuit. Would you happen to have any Argonian Bloodwine?" He asked with the same warm embrace.
Kleppr shook his head and nodded to the right side of the room, behind him.
"Nope. The reserves we have are already being saved for some ridiculous party the Silver-Blood Family is throwing in a few weeks. Sorry, Gorbit. Need anything else?"
Gorbit nodded friendly. "I'll take a fresh Ale instead, then." He said, his right hand gliding up to the counter to drop a small pouch of coins before the man, whom promptly accepted them and began preparing his order.
While he did so, Gorbit took the time to look about the filled room, his white staff in his left hand, and his brown leather satchel at his side, just beneath his dark grey cloak.