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 Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2012 10:19 am
 Daenlin Brallion-Scoundrel☼ ☼ ☼ ʤ ☼ ☼ ☼Vestibule Through all of the threats, implied, overt, or hidden- this Bosmer seemed entirely oblivious. That smirk rested on his face as if he was either a lackwit or the madgod had chiseled it there. He glanced back and forth between them, much as if the disagreement dancing before him was rather a pleasant conversation he was waiting on the fringes of to inquire about the weather. When she offered her hand, he occasioned a small shake of his head.
Now let us occasion a glance into the mind of a young blade dancer.
Cordal could not believe how little effort it was taking to get them to waste their precious time. He was always mystified by warriors who knowing what they were wading into would rather get caught in the web to struggle out than cut the obstacle down aforethought. The Dunmer preached the correct notion, but failed in practice. As it was, he was already dancing in his mind, trying to pierce the miasma of time and perceive their steps, such that his dance with them might be graceful. If all else failed, he knew to be like water and flow with what passed. Spells took aim, they so much as shrug to aim, the wise might move. He would force it to be sword to sword. He wondered vaguely what malice it was that allowed the do-gooders to judge him for being Bosmeri. The confident Dunmer was in deadly peril of impaling himself on his own Hubris, but such was the nature of so many of his kind. This was the substance, or so it seemed to Cordal, of their fabled ill fortune. He was not a bloody bandit, he was a sailor, a smuggler, and a swiftly flowing sword. One thing the dark elf got right, he was scum. The best kind of boat scum, the free kind. If anything, his smile deepened, showing the merest fringes of his incredibly sharp teeth. All these thoughts soon settled into the pitching calm of the undulating sea which called to him from the very depths of his being. He tilted the hilt of his still sheathed sword, and settled one foot gingerly before the other.Hillside Signaling to the others, Denni went forth. With the loping agility of a cat she began to make off downhill, the other three tagging along behind her. They ducked around stones, and cut straight west across the road, sprinting for cover. Stooping behind a stone, she took a brief vantage between the bowls of two trees, watching as the swiftly winging ship veered as far as possible from Anvil harbor, and made instead for the spires of an ancient Aylied ruin which from here looked like the gray bones of an incredible sea monster beached long ago, its spurious rib cage rising out of the waves and bleaching in the sun. The high tide was rolling in, precisely as Daenlin said it would, in fact it seemed to swell along the shoreline even as she looked. She gauged the spring she would have to make in order to beat the vessel to the shore. It was a mile and a half to the rendezvous. She turned to see 'Olin only just coming along behind. She did not even bother mustering a reprimand. She pointed along the shore, the two lads nodded and 'Olin inhaled. She stopped a moment, looking at the mage. She decided Daenlin was right, she's expendable. She turned to Alfaer.
'Take her back. We can handle this. Might as well clear the door.'
If Alfaer was reproachful, he didn't show it. He turned around immediately and all but dragged the mage roughly by the scruff of her tunic, forging north through a division in the rocks. He went up hill, he would cut east up the path and directly for the entrance to Hrota. She shook her thoughts of it.
Crouching down for a moment, stretching first one leg and then another, she prepared herself for what came next with three long deep breaths. Algaer did the same, securing his longbow diagonally against his back, well away from his thighs, calves, and feet. His quiver was filled tight with grey-feathered arrows, and did not shake around as he stretched and readied himself.
Then, pinning their hands against the hard stone before their feet, they took a last breath in unison - and pounced, running on the dry rushes and sand like the wind. Ahead of the wind, as if they might outdistance it, or outdistance time itself. The Pit Looking into her pleading face with incredible mirth in his eyes, Daenlin shook his head and curled his lip. Although he made no such sound, he gave off the raw emotion of sucking his teeth in disappointment. It was like the sardonic ghost of a 'tsk tsk tsk'. What a wicked grin, what a raw creature of desire. He continued to suspend the sweetroll before her, once again regarding not a single word which came out of her mouth. Instead he took a finger and ran it through the cream, then licked his finger, taunting her with his relish, and with his long maw of predatory teeth. He peeled off a moist layer from the outside of the roll, and offered it to her out of his hand. So close, and yet just so far, he could yank it away if he had a mind to. He probably did.
Degradation.
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Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2012 11:44 am
Neven Telvanni- Warlock
Health : Unharmed ┃ Magicka : Untapped┃ Fatigue : Rested ┃ Effects : None┃Equipped : Weaponward Cuirass (Resist Normal Weapons 9%) Leather Cuirass, Fortify Magicka Pants (Fortify Magicka 20 points) Tan Linens, Clothes, Mages Staff of Shock [Journeyman], Silver Longsword ┃ Quest Items : NA┃ Location :Hrota Cave
“Neven, l have the situation under control. l don't think the Mage's Guild would have put me in charge if they did not think l could handle this.” “I don’t think you do at all, these are the people who had the nerve to abduct a bloody Imperial Legion Guard. And unless the training has vastly dropped for Legionaries in the past 300 years, and I highly doubt that’s the case, then they are not someone you should take lightly.”’By Azura, she can’t be that stupid can she?’Neven thought to himself as he brooded on what to do. Hell he didn’t rightly care if this naive little Altmer got herself killed; it was a numbers game, the more of the group that stayed alive the better their odds they would have in rescuing that bloody guard alive.
He was still brooding when Coraline actually apologized to the bandit for his remarks, and then stuck her hand out to shake his hand. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, ”Fine get herself stabbed, I thought maybe you would have learned, but it seems nothing penetrates that tiny skull of yours.” Neven moved to put some more space between himself and Coraline, while keeping the Bosmer in front of him, as he moved he looked around once more to check on this Bosmer’s friends, and the purple wisps in the distance hadn’t moved. At least their unnecessary chat with this scum hadn’t alerted his friends of their presence in the cave. Though Neven doubted that would last much longer, it would come down to violence with this Bosmer and they needed to put him down quickly to avoid him raising some kind of alarm.
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thepoisonedmuffin Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2012 2:25 am
 ooooooooɔɵɾɐℓɩɳэɱɩɾɩэʌʈɾɐэɳɐHealth : Unharmed┃ Magicka : Untapped┃ Energy : Rested┃ Effects : Nothing┃ Wielding : Steel Short Sword┃ Equipped : Steel Short Sword, Steel Dagger and Robes of Destruction┃ lnventory : Parchment x 3, Ink Vial, Quill, Base Ring of Night Eye and Red Shard┃ Location : Hrota Cave - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ♥♥♥ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Coraline sighed lightly and put her hand down, truely hoping the man would fall for the small trick though alas he was much smarter then she had thought for a common bandit. She still had tricks up her short sleeves which seemed a bit more needed now. When she thought about it, all her advances for a diplomatic approach seemed to be falling under the table. She was failing at it and the aggressive negotiations were in order. Wasting time, which they were already lacking, seemed like an unneeded necessity at their current time. She felt like just ripping this mans entrails out and dangling them in front of him to see and gasp at as his voice carried through the caverns as he called for his mother. Though that would most definitely alert the others. Perhaps Neven's approach was right and to rip this mans throat out was the best way to solve this. She tried a sly magical move with no avail, perhaps it was just time to get to the nit and grit part of this adventure. Though his remarks about her being thick didn't seem to help her attitude. She wanted to scold him for his tongue though it would prove useless.
She had to plan her attack so it would catch him off guard, though she doubt any time would be good for that. He seemed like someone who knew that at any moment of this endeavor his life would be at the balance of his own swordplay and that he shouldn't take the two standing in front of him lightly. Sizing him up again, she tried to take note of how his body moved when he breathed and even spoke. Recalling how he moved when he walked to them and even his blinking pattern. She knew how to handle herself in a fight, though these tight quarters would make it hard to move properly. And with Neven behind her, she wanted to some how single him that she was going to advance. ''Sir, we are here under the orders of the Arch Mage to retrieve the prisoner you hold.'' she put her right hand on her hilt and with her left hand reached behind her back. ''Don't worry, l'm just getting the parchment. You see l have the orders right here.'' she said as she pretended to reach for in her back pocket but was really kept her hand out so Neven could see her fingers counting down from three.
Three.
Two.
One.
And at her own signal she pulled her blade out, holding it so the blade wasn't in the upright position and used it to strike down at him like an assassin plunging his blade into their victim.
((OOC: l didn't know to either just kill him with this post or let you decide if he has time to react. So l left it open for you to pick. Also sorry for the short post. l didn't know where to go with the rest.))
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ♥♥♥ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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