The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Eternal Blade on 13-08-2013, 03:58:04</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Eternal Blade</strong> on <strong>13-08-2013, 03:58:04</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Markarth </strong></span></span></div><div align="center">(http://i1234.photobucket.com/albums/ff406/Cal_Eternal_Blade/preview_zps8fb515ef.jpg)</div>The Foresworn Resurgence was a bloody affair, especially for Markarth which the Foresworn still claim as their own. The Jarl was killed in the battle to keep the city, and not even the Silverboods escaped the city. Only those who had fled early in the battle for the city were able to escape, and to a man the Nords of Markarth were slaughtered. Ulfirc once again took the city back from the Foresworn, and as the former Jarls line had been killed, the High King placed a bastard son of his as Jarl of the city.<br><br>So Jarl Mirach's rein began, fraught with a low population which he worked to increase, via lower taxes, and promises of property. Over a few years time he's proven that Ulfric was right to put him to the task, but ever since they drove the Foresworn out, the Nords have kept Understone Keep sealed. A year ago rumbling under the city almost caused a panic, and now people whisper of some Dwemer curse having been awakened by either the Foresworn or the new Jarl. <br><br>Regardless it is known the Jarl has buried three scholars, all of them experts in the Dwemer, and he seeks more, though almost none still exist in the Reach. Worse for the people of the Reach, the Foresworn still live, though scattered into their tribal society, they still pose a threat, and seem to be trying to claim smal; areas for their own. With time and resources, they will be strong enough to be a true threat once again, but for now travelers be wary, for the Foresworn are like starving wolves, hungry for the hunt.<br><br><div align="center">(http://i1234.photobucket.com/albums/ff406/Cal_Eternal_Blade/Markarthmapkey_03_zps8d39c2bb.png)</div><br><ul class="bbc_list"><li type="disc">The Silver mines are still working to an extent in Markarth, but much of the mines have been closed down, and the working conditions very dangerous. Now with Jarl Mirach at the helm, it's a work for hire, and the work is profitable enough, especially for desperate men and women. However, the Jarl holds the deed to the Silver Mines, and thus it's resources have largely been used to fuel rebuilding within the hold. However, a rumor has it that the Jarl has put the Deed up for sale. </li><li type="disc">Tales always spread in the Reach of a new king among the Foresworn, but their recent raiding shows a great deal of planning and patience, almost as if their planning for a long organized guerrilla war. Merchants whisper of steel armor, and not of the Nord make, and a cunning in their eyes. Some merchants, those with luxuries seem to pass without incident, but those with ore, or food meant for store for long periods are attacked ruthlessly. Who's been giving the Foresworn the details of what merchants carry what, and who would this new leader who seems to be civilizing the Foreswirn be?</li></ul>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>21-08-2013, 17:13:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open, Aelfgar to join in.<br><br>The pain in her legs had abated long ago, but the tension in her back and up through her neck and shoulders never seemed to go away. It existed as a hot, tingling sensation that occasionally walked up along her spine and nestled into the occiput, a nagging prickle that demanded Drake to take her hands, press the pads of her fingers into the base of her scalp, and massage along and through her hairline in hopes of relieving herself of this menace. She was eager to get into Markarth and find herself a comfortable room, one with a thick mattress and the luxury of a hot bath. She just hoped that the rumors of this city being cast entirely out of stone didn’t extend to the simple comforts her body needed right now.<br><br>A small fire crackled up against the stone that shielded her from the wind; she used collected bits of dry bark from the juniper trees where an elk had scrapped it off with its antlers to act as smokeless fuel, leading the two travelers here, preparing for dinner. The large cat Asher was out of sight, silently stalking the same elk that had left its scent everywhere, and so she took this opportunity to settle in for dinner, before the short trip into the city. Buying food at an inn was likely an easy answer, but the great cat wouldn’t be following her once they were within line-of-sight of the walls for his own protection, and she often felt guilty for leaving him alone for so long. She even started to miss him.<br><br>This one last meal was a ritual they shared. She still found it strange that the cat seemed to understand each and every word she said, but was growing far too fond of the large beast to question the will of the gods. The cat eased the ache in her heart that longed for her family, and so she would stall a little longer and eat with him before continuing on into the city, cutting herself a section of fresh meat only to leave the rest for Asher to consume. His appetite was mighty in comparison to hers.<br><br>The Reach was a dangerous place; she knew little about the savages who roamed the land, dressed in the furs of the wild, and brandishing crude weapons that were as showy as they were sharp. Their tactics were easy to manage from Drake, yet she couldn’t deny the advantage they help from knowing the terrain of their native land. Where she saw the constant reach of rocky mountain tops and a twisting road before her, they found hiding places and ambush locations, slowing the elf’s progress but failing to stop her. The deeper she went, however, the more they left her alone; even if she caught the occasional sight of a feathery head poking over a rock, judging to see if she was worth their hassle. After stumbling upon the scene of a broken wagon and no supplies or survivors, it became clear to her then that they were far more interested in those who had supplies worth storing. Flour had coated the wooden planks of the tipped wagon, as well as a few stray beans.<br><br>Curious.<br><br>But they weren’t her problem. Markarth would be a location for the elf to rest, restore and resupply. After that, she had a few days travel until she reached her goal of Whiterun, and if she was lucky, at the end of the week she would be achieving her goals and earn her way into the Companions.<br><br>With the luxury of a sigh, Drake reached over to her opposite shoulder and tried again at giving it a rub. Her muscles felt more like the taunt string of her bow rather than living flesh. Perhaps she might indulge in a few more luxuries in the city, should time provide. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>22-08-2013, 04:29:31</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, open<br><br><br>If life didn't always have another amaze beyond the next ridge or copse of trees, then Aelfgar was fooled these last sixteen years of traipsing through every terrain imaginable, always hunting for the next fur or skin.&nbsp; The huge, knotted-muscled, but surprisingly deft-footed man had been hoping to get a few more bear pelts before reaching Markarth, but even his skill at trapping had come up short in this part of the Reach.&nbsp; He'd traveled it before--always aware of the Foresworn and their dim view of Nords and the two people's shared history.&nbsp; He'd normally done well in avoiding them, but he'd occasionally found a trap looted, and to keep things as smooth as possible, he just assumed that such theft was a form of tribute from him to keep operating unmolested.<br><br>But here, not more than seventy yards away, across the rocky, broken terrain, stood something much more valuable than a bear.&nbsp; Well, the big man didn't know exactly what the name of it was, as he'd never seen one of its color or size before.&nbsp; However, he knew, whether magicked or born naturally, it had the blood of a lynx in it, and lynx fur was fine and soft and always in demand by lazy, warm-blooded nobles and merchant-types from nearby lands.&nbsp; It looked to be nearly as big as a sabre cat, and that meant its pelt would be as good as at least eight normal-sized lynx.&nbsp; He first smelled the air, feeling the first flickers and twitches of the blood-hunger coming upon him, and found nothing else predatory within range of his nose.&nbsp; Then he removed his massive war hammer from his back, hefting it with both skill and ease in his great, calloused hands.&nbsp; His eyes narrowed, and his lip curled enough to reveal a canine that was more than a little larger than the average man's.<br><br>He made his way towards the beautiful beast, silent on his feet--his armor was stowed on his pack horse and war-mount, hidden in a tiny box canyon a quarter-mile away.&nbsp; Besides, he'd always felt that wearing armor for a hunt was disrespectful to the spirit of the animal, and might keep it from returning to inhabit another body, thus leaving him with less game to hunt for in future seasons.&nbsp; And he had another, even deeper reason for respecting the big, carnivorous animal.&nbsp; His plan, as he'd used it for many years now with predators, was to get close enough to catch its attention, then engage it in the pristine, glorious competition of hunter against hunter.&nbsp; He used no bow or any ranged weapon, and while he sometimes used a spear, that was for reach, and not throwing.&nbsp; No, his own blood and honor demanded that when sacrificing a creature on par with himself as far as predatory instincts, the match be respectful and honest under the sky and all the gods that may be watching.<br><br>But the beast was a cat, and he was certain it would sense or spot him soon enough.&nbsp; Instead, he greeted it with something of a mix between a war-cry and a roar, reveling in the feel of the cold air as he sucked it in, and the vibration of his chest as he bellowed forth his challenge to it.&nbsp; A smile crossed his lips and remained, and he was growing fully into the joy of the hunt already.&nbsp; "Come now, cat!&nbsp; Let us find who holds claim to your fur..."&nbsp; He eased, then tightened his grip on his great blunt weapon, used to protect the integrity of the pelts he tanned and sold--the fewer holes the better.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>22-08-2013, 05:02:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Open.<br><br>The cry that echoed in the canyon she nestled in was unlike any animal she had heard before; Drake had felt her heart leap into her throat from surprise. The elf was on her feet, bow in her hand with her arm halfway to the quiver before the sound registered to her ears; not an animal, a human. A battle cry that could cause the fur on a battle-torn bear to turn white with shock. The way it bounced off of the stone and twisted in her ears made it difficult to judge where it was coming from directly, but the voice that echoed this cry had Drake sprinting in the direction her gut told her to go. This was no cry of the Forsworn, and with Asher out of sight, the hunter could only worry.<br><br>She had good reason. There, further down the path and into the deeper passageway of the canyon, Drake could make out the massive form of Asher. His ears were pressed down flat, mouth open as he hissed at the brute of a man approaching a war axe. Even from this distance she could make out the sharp set of canines that lined the cat’s mouth, there was no doubt that the fool below had a better vantage point of those fangs. The cat’s bite promised dismemberment, if the Nord was too slow. Drake had enough time to realize how crazy this man must have been to challenge a cat of Asher’s size; he came up to the man’s waist, and rippled with sleek muscles. But crazy wasn’t an excuse, and he was challenging her companion. An arrow was notched as the Bosmer lined up her sight, letting the arrow fly without as much as a second thought.<br><br>Blood sprayed like a fine mist; the arrowhead embedded into the man’s hand, piercing straight through the flesh between the carpals until the serrated tip bit into the wooden hilt of his warhammer. She felt too much anger burning through her veins for her to give him any more warning than that shot, yet it was more than enough for the great cat to turn, bound away until he stood behind her. Asher was on her side, but the angry hiss that came from his throat was more sensation than sound; a bass so deep it vibrated in her chest and down the stony path towards the Nordsman. “If you <em>dare</em> try that again, Nord, you’ll find my arrow in your eye the next time! Walk away!”<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Note</div><div class="spoiler_body">For the readers and GMs: I swear Hannibal said it was okay for me to shoot him! ^__^ He knew about his poor hand ahead of time.</div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>22-08-2013, 05:31:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong>The Reach just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong>Early evening, dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br><br>Iljana glances up at the encroaching darkness and blinks as a snowflake lands in her right eye.&nbsp; Icy breath is the only thing she sees for the moment however her nose picks up the scent of the bear she's been carefully stalking.&nbsp; The crunch of the snow packed stony ground makes her wince as she steps forward.&nbsp; Quickly traveling from a low lying juniper to a rocky outcropping, Iljana takes a peek around the stone to get a better view of the bear.&nbsp; To her horror, she comes face to face with the animal and lets out a loud curse as she backpedals away from danger.&nbsp; With a loud roar, the defensive bear takes the offensive role and the hunter becomes the hunted.&nbsp; Briefly her gut dropped as she heard another less loud roar nearby that strangely sounded like words and worried for the moment there were two bears but there was no time to ponder it.<br><br>Iljana's initial instinct is to turn tail and run as if the vilest nightmare is chasing closely behind.&nbsp; Right at this moment, it might as well be the monsters of her childhood terrors, but thankfully her fathers words slip into her mind.&nbsp; <em>Never run!&nbsp; It triggers a strong prey drive.</em>&nbsp; Dropping her bow, she grabs for her great axe knowing she wouldn't be able to really get a shot off with an arrow.&nbsp; As the bear rushes her, she lets out a scream and swings her axe at its head as she attempts to dive to the side.&nbsp; <br><br>The axe misses its intended target but bites deeply into its shoulders.&nbsp; Her arm wrenches nearly out of the socket as the bear passes her but she managed to hold onto the axe as it pulls from its shoulder.&nbsp; The bear staggers and then turns around, rising up on its hind legs letting out a second roar. Iljana takes that opportunity to try to find cover but the bear drops down and rushes towards her again.&nbsp; It swipes out an arm but this time her dive isn't as successful.&nbsp; Claws rake across her upper back and the force of the blow knocks her forward.&nbsp; She lets out a scream of pain and spins wildly with axe out in front of her.&nbsp; Blade of axe meets skull of bear and shears the top portion of its skull clean off.&nbsp; <br><br>Dropping to the ground, the bear's lifeless body slumps onto Iljana as she slips on the snow and falls flat onto her injured back.&nbsp; Gasping in pain and from the adrenaline dump, she blinks again as a snowflake lands in her right eye.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>24-08-2013, 03:44:53</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, open<br><br>The joy of the hunt was just beginning to envelop him--much different from the bloodlust that took him during a berserker rage, and nothing whatsoever like the dark, burning hunger for blood that identified his were-form.&nbsp; He looked at the cat, deep appreciation in his eyes for the opportunity to test his mettle against such a grand beast.<br><br>That was when the arrow struck his left hand, spattering his clothing near it with a fine red mottling.&nbsp; He felt the arrow embed in his hammer-haft, and then turned at the angry female voice that spoke next.&nbsp; Looking up and seeing the cat siding with what appeared to be an elf--and an obviously skilled archer at that--he suddenly realized why such a strange beast could be in the Reach.&nbsp; Mistakes will be made, he mused, looking at his bleeding hand.<br><br>Ignoring the elven woman, he let go of the hammer with his impaled hand and with his right, set it carefully on the ground.&nbsp; Then he made a tightly knotted fist with his left, and gripped the arrow in his right, snapping it cleanly in two.&nbsp; He then removed the shaft from his left hand.&nbsp; Through the entire action he made not a single sound or facial tick of pain.<br><br>Tossing the remains of the arrow on the ground, he again looked up at the archer.&nbsp; "I&nbsp; assumed your cat's lack of ownership.&nbsp; I apologize for such.&nbsp; For a trapper like me, finding any beast of such beauty is a rarity, and worth a combat to win its skin."&nbsp; He looked at his wounded hand.&nbsp; "A great shot, and I have deserved it.&nbsp; Though I do not think I deserve one in my eye...I have not harmed a hair on him, and your warning is well-taken."&nbsp; He pulled a loose cloth from his belt, meant to be used to clean the blood of a kill from his hands, and his own blood if necessary after a fight, and wrapped his injured hand carefully and well.&nbsp; "You are far from the land I assume you hail from," he spoke in his booming voice, eyes still on his hand and the wrapping he was engaged in, showing neither fear nor haste, "it is bold of me to ask why you are in my homeland, but I have little excitement out on the hunt, aside from the occasional beast I choose to match my skill with."&nbsp; <br><br>He managed to sit on a nearby fallen tree, and place his hands on his knees.&nbsp; "Here, I am easily at the mercy of your bow, or your friend's fangs and claws.&nbsp; I prove I am no threat.&nbsp; Surely you know the power we Nords place in our word?&nbsp; Come, speak."&nbsp; His face was calm.&nbsp; If this elf meant to try to take him anyway, arrows would be a poor tool to bring him down, even without his armor, unless she did pierce a vital area...and if she was to choose to attack, his wolf-form would be much more able to resist injury, and be on par with the cat's speed.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>24-08-2013, 19:16:51</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Open.<br><br><hr>Drake stretched out one hand, but didn’t release her bow with the other. She trusted her skills and the distance that separated her and the Nord that, should he give her more reason to fire, she had the speed and intuition to notch and release a couple more arrows before he could make it up the hill. Asher seemed to think so as well; for the great cat took advantage of the outstretched palm by rubbing his brow against it. On all fours, the creature was nearly as tall as the elf; his head stopping just under her chest. The strength of him rippled under his beautiful coat, and pushed at Drake’s hand as if it were nothing. Even from up here on the hill, his deep rumbling purr could be felt by Aelfgar. He seemed quite content to have her fingers scratching behind his pointed ears. The threat, for Asher, was apparently forgotten.<br><br>But Drake still walked the line of caution, tense and ready to move while the Nord sat and tied up his wound. She didn’t understand how he could keep such a straight face after a blow to a hand; especially when something like stubbing a toe on a rock always had her cursing up a storm until the wave of pain passed. A hand? Maybe Rage was better suited against him than her bow? Maybe the next time she used violence against this man, should he give her further reason to, she would invest some of her energy into forming fire around her arrows? The Elf slid the bow around her shoulder, freeing up her hands, and gave Asher a single pat on his shoulder before she began moving forward. She wasn’t beyond apology, but that didn’t make it any easier.<br><br>He was wrapping a cloth around his hand, one that was quickly stained with blood. It wasn’t guilt she felt for making such a wound; life out in the Reach was hard. Life as a hunter in any means was even harder, and you did what you had to do in order to protect and survive. But you could make amends, and the Turrels were known for being gracious as well as ferocious when they needed to be. Drake stopped just before the Nord, well out of the man’s reach. Caution, always. Trust wasn’t something that could simply be given freely.<br><br>“A trapper in the badlands? Wouldn’t you have an easier way west of here? I’d imagine the pelts of snow wolves would sell better than the common, if brutish, bear.” The elf took in the details of his face; handsome, as far as Nords could be handsome, for she found them to be made of blunt angles rather the fine curves of her people. And big. Far taller than she and Drake noted that she was grateful that the man was sitting down. It made her feel less like a child when she was the only one on her feet, and she questioned now how her confidence would hold had he decided to rush up the hill at her just moments before. Rage would have been drawn, her family’s magic would have been summoned, and blood would have poured down the hillside. Likely hers.<br><br>She was realistic. No one was invincible, while she had speed, grace and agility on her side, this man had the brute strength she lacked. The arrow in his hand, she came to realize, was like a sliver in the finger; an annoyance, not a real injury. Inside she winced, hoping Asher wasn’t too far behind.<br><br>Still standing, the elf closed the distance between them, an act that made her uncomfortable but strengthened the woman at the same time; she was here in Skyrim to test herself, after all. “I can close this for you. You’ve not injured Asher; allow me to reciprocate by taking back your wound. Perhaps then, we might try this introduction again.”<br><br>It seemed tonight was full of screams. With a frown, Drake looked over her shoulder, once again taking a moment to pinpoint the location, which was difficult to isolate because of the canyon walls. With a sharp, quick whistle, the elf jerked her head off to the side, indicating to Asher to go investigate. The cat turned as directed, and soon disappeared in the mist that began to settle into the air around them. She looked back at the Nord, waiting for his reply, but now curious as to what made this evening so sociable.<br><br><hr><br><em>The lynx made no sound as he moved, the wide paws as large as a human’s face ensured the even distribution of his weight, so that he was as silent as the wind pushing through smoke. Wind brought to his senses blood, and through several open-mouthed huffs, tasting the molecules of this essential fluid on his tongue, he had decided that it belonged to two creatures; bear, a common flavor on his maw, and a woman. Creeping up along the canyon to a small valley below revealed the sight of a great bear crushing the form of a tall woman. The cat was indecisive, as they usually are, and with a flick of it’s stubby tail, Asher decided to move down to the valley to the bear in order investigate further.</em><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>25-08-2013, 04:00:28</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, open<br>He smiled genially at her suggestion of better trapping elsewhere.&nbsp; "I'm heading to Markarth, and merely sought to pick up some additional pelts to trade while there.&nbsp; And yes, the Snow Wolves do indeed have fine pelts, but I regard them as...brothers.&nbsp; We have much in common, they and I, prowling the lands for our needs."&nbsp; <em>Much more in common than she could ever imagine.</em><br><br>Her offer to heal the wound she inflicted was noted with a nod.&nbsp; Such offers were normal for the Nords...keeping oaths, satisfying spirits of the ancestral dead through great deeds, these were the norm in his society.&nbsp; Even transgressions such as taking a god's name in vain could be made up by valor in one's next battle.&nbsp; Such was the weave of his culture's tapestry.&nbsp; "I accept," came the simple response, as well as the pointed, honest eye-contact.&nbsp; He held his great hand forth; the cloth was now bright with his blood, although it seemed to have slowed.&nbsp; "I am Aelfgar, son of Chieftain Torvald, berserker of the vanguard of the King and Herdrya, daughter of Hrolfgar the Black, smith of renown."&nbsp; He recited his family with pride, though spoke nothing in particular of himself--his deeds would speak for themselves.<br><br>The Nord heard the sounds of bear and human, and looked off into the growing dark.&nbsp; "Oft it is that the wilderness claims us back.&nbsp; It is only fair.&nbsp; What we claim from the wilderness must be repayed, at the least with honor and prayers."&nbsp; He said it matter-of-factly, and gave the aura of someone quite prepared for his day of death...perhaps even, in some deep, distant way, welcoming that moment when it came, and the freedom he would finally have from his life-long curse.<br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>25-08-2013, 06:28:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Open.<br><br><hr><br>Drake wasn’t nervous for Asher in regards to the bear they heard; the feline was capable of taking down a troll on his own, yet the thought of not watching his back as he watched hers made the elf uneasy. She almost wished that they had settled elsewhere; away from the bear, away from the Nord, once more lost in the solitude of the land. Since Cyrodill, Drake found herself to become less drawn to people and more reclusive. It seemed the noble had unsettled her in more ways than one; in his life, and now by his death.<br><br>With a frown that wrinkled her brow, Drake turned her attention to the Nord’s hand, but didn’t actually see it. The cloth was there dripping with blood, the hot copper bite filled her nose and told her that the wound was clean, unspoiled, but these were just details that were set aside in categories and easily dismissed. It was a short time till she replied, as if unwrapping the cloth at his palm was a task that needed her full attention. “Your family’s skills at the forge are known even back in Valenwood,” she stated. Her father had a piece belonging to this man’s ancestry; one kept on the mantle out of respect to its history. It had been there even before she was born. “Your grandfather Hrolfgar had crafted a dagger for my father some thirty-years ago, if I recall correctly. He called it Wyrm Tongue.” She smiled, a flicker that lasted for only seconds while she used the cloth to clean the gore from his palm. “He fancied the challenge of killing a dragon one day, and used the blade to do so. Your grandfather made a fine weapon that my father is able to depend on.” The death of the dragon had was a story he loved to tell. So much so, she had named her from it.<br><br>Drake stretched her much-smaller palm over the Nord’s, allowing it to hover over it for a few seconds as she adjusted her thoughts and recalled the spell to her mind. There were no fancy words or hand-gestures, only a look of concentration before her fingers began to tingle and a soft azure aura covered their hands passing heat through to their bones. It was a comforting sensation, especially out here in the badlands of the Reach. Aelfgar, should he watch, would see the way his skin seemed to expand outward, building up from the dermis layers first, before moving out towards the epidermis. Blood vessels that had been punctured closed, nerves reconnected, until all that was left was fresh skin, just slightly tender to the touch. She stopped the flow of magic as soon as his hand was whole, and dropped the bloody cloth that no longer served any purpose. “I am Drake Turrell, my companion is Asher. We’re on our way to Markarth as well, hoping to rest for a few days and resupply before the last stretch of our journey west to Whiterun.” The elf looked over her shoulder, hoping to catch sight of her lynx. Still nothing. “If the Fletcher we passed was correct… Markarth shouldn’t be far from here.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>26-08-2013, 04:35:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Asher, Iljana, Open<br><br>After blinking out the snowflake from her eyes, Iljana with all her remaining strength half shoves and half wriggles out from underneath the large bear.&nbsp; Wincing in pain from the claw marks in her back, she attempts to survey the damage done to her.&nbsp; She gingerly reaches around to her back, trying to feel the wounds to see how deep they might be, to little success.&nbsp; The feel of blood dripping down her back alarms her a bit but her attention suddenly is captured as a large shape moves out of the corner of her eyes.&nbsp; Out of the near darkness emerge a large feline form.&nbsp; She tenses up at the sight of the largest lynx she's ever seen.&nbsp; Wondering if she is hallucinating, Iljana closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head trying to clear the cobwebs from blood loss.&nbsp; <em>Nope, still there, there really is a giant lynx approaching</em> she thinks to herself.&nbsp; <br><br>Iljana tries to recall if she's seen such a magnificent animal around these parts before.&nbsp; Fear nudges aside fascination as it approaches.&nbsp; There is the thrill of the hunt and the dark part of herself finds excitement to the idea of risking her life, however she acknowledges that she doesn't have a death wish.&nbsp; At least not today.<br><br>The snowfall dampens sound all around and the only thing she can hear is her breath and her rapid heartbeat.&nbsp; As the cat gets closer she hears its breath.&nbsp; Staying as still as possible, and hoping the cat will lose interest in her and potentially finding the bear to be a better meal, she waits at a disadvantage.&nbsp; As the lynx sniffs the air, she gathers her courage and prepares to jump to her feet.&nbsp; If she is going to die today, she'll at least give this great cat a hell of a fight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>26-08-2013, 06:05:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> <em>Asher</em><br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dusk<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Iljana, Open.<br><br><hr><em>Asher preferred elk over bear; often the beasts were inedible, their meat toxic from the berries they’ve consumed over their lives, mixed with the rotting flesh only their stomachs could handle. This one, however, was edible, and for a while the Lynx considered clawing into the beasts belly and consuming the offals he so enjoyed. The great cat licked his maw, eyeing the carcass still warm even in death. Up here, where the snow hadn’t yet turned into mist, steam rose from the blood spilling the ground, and from the woman’s bleeding back. If he acted quickly, he could satisfy his hunger before Drake would come looking for him; and he’d bring back her share, minus a few slabs of fat…<br><br>But there was the matter of this woman to take care of, and so the feline huffed, the sound plunging steam into the air like smoke from a dragon’s mouth. He meant her no harm, and started purring just as he had done with Drake when he first found her. It seemed the sound had a soothing effect, comforting and familiar. Safe. Asher was large and very deadly, yet he only wanted to act as a guide. He eyed the woman with amber hues, patiently waiting for her fear to slip away before he turned around and looked over his shoulder at her. He didn’t stop purring, and even mimed stepping forward as if to say, ‘Come along human. We both know you can do this.’<br><br>The beast offered his shoulder if the woman needed something to steady herself with, ready to lead her back to the others… if her elf hadn’t decided to kill the human.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>26-08-2013, 20:11:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, open<br><br>He didn't even bother to look over his hand; he'd told her his family's name, and she had responded with the respect of his grandfather; it was more than sufficient for him to completely trust her motives.&nbsp; "I thank you," he rumbled.&nbsp; "I have some skill at removing poison and a little with diseases--they come in handy out here.&nbsp; For normal wounds..."&nbsp; He shrugged.&nbsp; "I carry the blessings of the Lord's Stone.&nbsp; Pain is to be expected in life, but one's work goes more smoothly when it is lessened.&nbsp; And perhaps I can smooth out your own journey.&nbsp; I have been to Markarth several times in my life; I know some of the fur traders there well enough to call them friends.&nbsp; Not a political sot among them--they are rough, honest men, with no power within the city, and I feel no shame in sharing table with them."&nbsp; His words hinted at his general view of rulers...those who hid behind walls of stone for most of their lives and failed to seek the true beauty of their land were sadly losing much of what he lived for.&nbsp; <br><br>He gazed at the elven woman; she had a blunt, simple way about her that spoke well of her own integrity and honor.&nbsp; True, too, she was much easy on the eyes, as were all of her kind--he'd bedded a few elves in his time, and found their bodies to be quite exotic and tempting, but tended to be lacking somewhat in the area of stamina.&nbsp; He was a rough lover, and many a time he'd spent in a distant land, wishing for a simple Nord wench who could match him for both energy and...feistiness.&nbsp; He'd had offers of marriage from some parents for their daughter's hands, and the daughters were in no wise displeased with the possibility of it--most of them he'd already fucked, anyway, and knew he was from good stock and would make a dependable husband--but nearly all of them expected him to take up smithing full-time, or even a chieftainship.&nbsp; He'd not told any of them, or any other woman, for that matter, of his curse...he would have no way to settle down, give a wife many strong children, and see a community through what it needed to become a thriving place of life.<br><br>He didn't even fully understand his current journey.&nbsp; He had no idea what he was seeking, other than some way to find more permanent friendships...all of the ways to do that seemed to require sticking somewhere.&nbsp; And he had no reservations about ever removing his curse--one did not undo what a goddess put in place...and even if it was possible, what retribution would he earn for being so bold as to challenge her power through such an act?&nbsp; No, he did not waste time wishing for what could not be...he only lived, and lived again the next day, until he had no breath left to take.&nbsp; Besides, death would undo his curse, and he'd find solace in a mead-hall full of similar warriors in the afterlife, spending their eternities combating one another and honing their fighting skills beyond anything he could dream of in Skyrim, so as to be ready to come to the service of his gods on the appointed day of doom.&nbsp; <em>That </em>was something to look forward to, he knew, and just the thought of it brought his blood to near berserker heat.<br><br>"Why do you seek Whiterun, if I may be so bold?&nbsp; Have you family there?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>27-08-2013, 05:18:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Open.<br><br><hr><br>It didn’t take long for the sun to drop out of the sky completely, transcending the night across the hills like an ebony flood across every canyon and every ridge. The mist settled, the snow began to fall towards the deeper valleys, and tickled the elf’s cheeks and tangled in her dark eyelashes. A few blinks sent them melting and drifting away. Pulling her cloak’s hood over her scalp shielded the rest of her face from meeting the same fate, as well as to preserve her body temperature. The concept of ‘snow’ was still new to her, as was the bittingcold. Her progress north had prepared her over the last year, yet she never found any joy in the white-hell her father always recalled with such admiration. Apparently, she hadn’t inherited that particular gene that made her mental status questionable. There was nothing good about the snow. Luckily, the central capital wasn’t supposed to be as bad and the northern borders.<br><br>“Whiterun is the home of the Companions,” said Drake, making a casual hand gesture that said something along the lines of, ‘that explains itself’. Her father had earned his name in the history books by becoming a dragon slayer, and succeeding. Her grandfather exterminated the Telboth hive in Falinesti. Her lineage dated back to even before the days of Tiber Septim, where her family heavily supported the emperor and his endeavors. She, herself, had every intention of living up to that great name. Dragons may no longer exist, but that didn’t mean there were no other glories to be had. There was power in a name; the name never died. She wished to instate her own ‘immortality’ with pride. She was a Turrel. There was a lot to live up to. “My family hails from Valenwood. Rather than traveling by ship along the Ghost Sea, I chose to travel north, straight through Tamriel’s heart. It’s been… quite a journey.” To say the least.<br><br>However… having a ‘guide’ the rest of the way wasn’t a bad idea. Safety in numbers, and she saw the benefit of having the massive presence besides her. For one; it might detour any hesitant Forsaken looking to make one last attack before they found the safety of Markarth’s walls. For two, she struggled enough as it was with socializing with one man these days, she didn’t know how she was going to feel once in the city, surrounded by strangers… some of which might have been members of the Dark Brotherhood, waiting for her to resurface.<br><br>Frowning now, the elf caught herself staring off into space again, replaying that moment that changed her over and over again. The man was dead. People die. But she had promised to return, as she did, yet she also promised to save him. Was the guilt from the noble’s death and the loss of his family? Or did it stem from the flood of rage that caused her to slaughter those bandits without her usual… care. They had suffered because she suffered. How did the gods see her now? Not worthy of the name Turrel.<br><br>“If you’re heading to Markarth, then I shall accompany you. Thank you.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>29-08-2013, 03:28:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Asher, Iljana, Open<br><br>Iljana's senses are sharp as she opens herself up to her surroundings.&nbsp; Snowfall dampens some sounds and yet others seem deafening.&nbsp; Her heartbeat should be causing an avalanche right about now!&nbsp; Her nose catches the coppery scent of blood.&nbsp; Her blood mingling with bear's blood.&nbsp; With shaky breathing, she watches the large feline as it approaches.&nbsp; Her breath catches in her throat as the cat's golden eyes meet hers.&nbsp; With relief, Iljana's mounting fear releases its grip on her as the cat glances away as if disinterested in harming her.&nbsp; Curiously, it appears not to be interested in the bear carcass either.&nbsp; <br><br>Iljana slowly shifts into a kneeling position and winces in pain as the wounds stretch and rub against the leather and ebony wood remnants of her damaged armor.&nbsp; Slightly unsteady&nbsp; she lifts a hand towards the great lynx to sniff.&nbsp; At the sound of purring, she watches its body language closely and marvels at its seemingly gentle behavior.&nbsp; Slowly she lays her hand on its proffered shoulder and gingerly rises to her feet.&nbsp; <br><br>The lynx takes a step forward and looks back at her as if to say follow me.&nbsp; Shaking her head to herself&nbsp; she steps forward and follows the magnificent beast to where it wishes to lead.&nbsp; The sun now completely hidden, the dark and starless sky contrasts greatly with the white of the snowy land.&nbsp; Trudging through the hard packed snow, she notices that the large pads on this impressive creature leaves no tracks.&nbsp; Coming over a rise, Iljana is greeted with an inky vision of two people in conversation.&nbsp; Not being able to make out who the two are, she watches as the lynx continues onward as if there is nothing to be concerned about.&nbsp; <br><br>As she approaches, Iljana stops a respectful and safe distance away and softly calls out a greeting.&nbsp; Wanting to let the two know they aren't alone, she didn't want to potentially startle either one.&nbsp; Upon closer inspection, Iljana makes out that one appears to be a male while the other, slighter form could be female.&nbsp; Hood hiding features of the smaller person makes it hard to tell for sure.&nbsp; Iljana watches to see what the lynx does next and hopes the pair are friends rather than foes.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Black Howling</strong> on <strong>30-08-2013, 19:08:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LeXUKip.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Moric<br><strong>Location:</strong> Just Outside Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Iljana, Open<br><hr><br>The bard practically missed his first steps as he ventured from juniper treeline, finally having made his way back to the main road. In his hands rested a good indication of why the man's face was twisted into an expression anger. The oaken, gemstone inlaid lute that has mentor had gifted to him upon completion of his studies. Cracked right at the center bowel, broken in half and only hanging together by the graces of the strings. With a frustrated sigh, Moric tossed the instrument to the side and began to make his way further down the rugged path. His clothes were still ripped and sliced from the run in he'd had with his barbaric cousins. He'd thought people were just telling stories until he seen them, but now he wasn't so sure. <br><br>Steel blades in their hands, well crafted bows; metal armor. The last part is what had Moric's mind really blown, never had he seen such a thing before; and he'd studied the barbarians enough he'd have known. Sure, it was still the half plated and scanty styling that young men often fantasized about, but that didn't change the fact that they never wore steel before. The bard's mind was soon drawn form it's absent frustration, however, when the sound of a wild roar pierced the air. His eyes widened for a moment, hand gripping the Nordic axe slid through a clever loop on his belt. Ducking lower, he began to hurriedly sneak back into the nine's forsaken juniper treeline, feet taking him forward even as a warrior's battle cry pierced the air, followed in turn by another roar. <br><br>Unfortunately Moric didn't make it in time to see the Nord fell the creature, no he arrived just in time to witness her rising up on a large hunting cat. He found himself blinking several times to make sure the frost and moonlight weren't tricking his eyes. Was that a tiger? He knew damn well they weren't indigenous to the area, so what the hell was one doing here. More over, why wasn't it attempting to make the red headed lass it's next meal? He kept his breath hushed though, fingers trailing a small circle as a faint purple aura surrounded him for but a second before fading. Cloaking his scent from the cat's nose so his higher vantage wasn't given away to the creature if it decided to turn hostile. <br><br>Moric shadowed the two then, glad now that these nine's forsaken trees granted such great cover. Soon he noticed the lass, accompanying the lynx, slowing her movement. From his vantage, he couldn't see what she was approaching; didn't notice the two figures she was coming upon. He could hear them, though; at-least one&nbsp; of them. It was fairly obvious by this point that the great cat wasn't going to attack, but the wounds on the woman would need to be tended if she was to make it to the city ahead. So at the risk of drawing the cat's ire, The bard stood from his hidden vantage to begin making his way down the steps toward her. <strong>"Get a few bear claws where they don't belong?"</strong> He asked, letting his cloaking over his scent drop as he approached the woman. Knowing if she was as surprised by the cat as he, then his coming must have seemed like another fiasco on to of what she'd already been dealing with. <br><br>While Moric seemed fairly ruffed up from his tattered clothing, the slight punctures in his armor, he was no worse for the wear. He had some bruises, but nothing major. <strong>"Markarth is not far now, but I think you may need some bandages if you're gonna make it there. Let me tend your wounds."</strong> He offered, despite the offer being in the form of a statement. He kept a fair distance from her, hand near his axe if the kitty decided to get claws on him, but not drawn as to show no hostility. He'd just escaped a band of hostile foes, he wasn't looking to get in a fight with another one. He hadn't cast a look in the direction of the the other's he heard yet. He figured if they weren't already attacking then they weren't going to. If he had to wager a guess, he'd say the cat's trainer was that direction. The beast obviously having some domestication to it. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>31-08-2013, 23:57:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br>Aelfgar nodded to Drake's agreement; this was a trust, and besides having healed him, he was honor-bound now with a traveling companion, however newly-met.&nbsp; He liked things simple.<br><br>However, when the big cat returned, things became somewhat more complicated, as he saw the Nord woman clinging to it.&nbsp; A moment later, before he'd even reacted, yet another figure appeared; an armed Breton, it seemed, but in a non-threatening stance.&nbsp; He stood, leaving Final Word sitting against the log he'd been resting on, and moved towards the two newcomers, but then turned his head to Drake.&nbsp; "It seems both your healing and mine may be needed."&nbsp; He came forward, assisting the injured warrior-woman to a sitting position, allowing her to lean against him..&nbsp; "I would say that you have been both cursed and blessed, countrywoman; all three of us here can aid you with your battle-wounds."&nbsp; He already saw that she was formidable if she'd taken on a local bear.&nbsp; As for the Breton, he was glad he was just another well-meaning traveler.&nbsp; "I shall support her while the two of you may work your craft."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>01-09-2013, 20:25:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br><br><hr><br>Complications arise when you least expect it. Drake didn’t want company; she found it. Drake didn’t want to be recognized; yet here were two more bodies that would be able to describe the elf, should the right sort of person wander by and offer them a little coin. The frown on her face was the only visible feature not shadowed by her hood, but its displeasure could easily be explained away by concern for the injured woman, if one was looking for it. Send Asher to scope out trouble, trust him to bring it back.<br><br>Without word, Drake turned to face the two new strangers, gliding up the path with the fluid grace one as stealthy as she had perfected over the years. Maybe she had learned a thing or two from the great cat who sat, still purring, but ears pressed flat against his head. Asher hadn’t liked Moric sneaking up behind him, but hadn’t lashed out in anger. Instead, once Drake was reaching the group and extended out her hand, the lynx stepped forward, nuzzling against her palm with the side of his large face, smashing his whiskers against her. The cat’s nudge forced her hand to travel over his cheek to the back of his neck, trailing the sweep over his spine to the tip of his nubby tail as she walked past; a tail in which she grabbed to much of his annoyance. Asher huffed, making a sound-less hiss in her direction, but it only caused the elf to smirk with satisfaction, knowing full-well that the cat would only grumble about it.<br><br>Drake approached, and stopped out of arm’s reach of the other Nord and the Breton. Lifting one hand, glowing pale blue as it had done for Aelfgar not long before, the elf gestured towards Iljana. Even such a casual gesture as that had been regal in its own right. “May I?” She wouldn’t over step her boundaries, or assume anything until the woman gave her permission to work. Drake herself disliked most magic; strangers couldn’t always be trusted to be compassionate even to those who suffered. She would wait for Iljana to make her choice before taking action.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>03-09-2013, 18:08:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Moric, Drake, Open<br><br><hr><br>Iljana turns to the side as a dark haired man reveals himself to her and the Lynx.&nbsp; She eyes his tattered appearance for a second but relaxes her shoulders when she realizes he means her no harm.&nbsp; In fact, this stranger seems willing to help her tend to her wounds which was very generous of him considering he has never met her before.&nbsp; She smiles at him.&nbsp; <strong>"I thank you for the offer of help.&nbsp; It looks like you were having the same kind of day as I.&nbsp; Though you look less injured.&nbsp; But at least we made it out alive, yes?"</strong><br><br>Iljana watches in wonder and a tad bit of envy as the great lynx approaches its companion and greets her with a rub of its cheek and body.&nbsp; She wishes she could have that sort of relationship with some of the wildlife out in these parts.&nbsp; Most just want to eat her though she can't always blame them.&nbsp; Everyone and everything has got to do what they must to survive in this harsh climate.&nbsp; <br><br>Iljana's eyes glance down at the woman's proffered hand which begins to glow.&nbsp; Again she wishes she had some aptitude for magics but alas she's meant for other things.&nbsp; Iljana again smiles gratefully and steps forward towards the elfwoman.&nbsp; <strong>"Is there anything I should do to make it go easier?&nbsp; Do I need to take off my armor for this to go easier?"</strong>&nbsp; She asks, knowing she's showing these strangers how ignorant she is about certain things.&nbsp; She hates having to appear that way but whatever right?&nbsp; <br><br><strong>"Thank you to you all for willing to help a stranger!"</strong> She looks at the big blonde male, who offers his steadying assistance and again smiles.&nbsp; Hopefully she doesn't come across as a smiling fool.&nbsp; <strong>"I am Iljana Horviksdotter.&nbsp; I am very pleased to meet you all and am sorry I am being such a bother."</strong>&nbsp; She looks at the elfwoman thankfully as she begins her work.&nbsp; <strong>"Does this wonderful creature belong to you?&nbsp; You must be pretty powerful in the ways of magic to have tamed such an impressive beast."</strong> She says in wonder.&nbsp; <strong>"It is dangerous to be in the wilderness in the darkness but I can at least guide you all to Markarth quickly if you wish."</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>05-09-2013, 16:29:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br><br><hr><br>If Drake were to be honest with herself then she would admit that these curious questions coming from Iljana were a little overwhelming for her. It was something of a challenge to keep the placid façade tightly under control on both her face and within her body language. But, since the last three months were spent mostly in solitude, minus her grumblings at the occasional pack of bandits and Forsworn alike, intelligent conversation had been an absent part of her life. She didn’t entirely understand how she felt about having it back in abundance, since not too long ago she had engaged with the tallest nord she had ever seen, a man who stood silently at Iljana’s side in order to take the burden of supporting herself with sustained injuries. Had she changed so much already? And were these changes the sort she wanted?<br><br>Had she been alone, a soft curse would have left her lips at that exact moment, but instead she shook her head to answer the woman’s first two questions and shifted her palms so that they were slightly cupped and just inches from the woman’s clavicles. The glowing grew brighter, casting those around her in the soft hue that tingled Iljana’s skin pleasantly. Without pain, flesh seemed to melt together; restitching itself just as it had done to Aelfgar not ten minutes before. Pain ebbed away, sensation of flesh returned where it had been ripped asunder and after nearly a solid minute of keen focus, all that remained on the woman were the red flesh of new skin just a little tender to the touch.<br><br>The elf lowered her hands, the glow dying out almost instantly. “You will feel right again tomorrow after some rest and a warm meal.” With a fluid half-shrug, Drake took a step back in order to give Iljana her personal space again. Now she turned her attentions to the Breton, quirking one slender, dark brow in question. “Shall I tend to you next?” He seemed healthy enough, if a little battered from a scuffle at one point in recent history. Forsworn? If so, and they were attacking this close to Markarth, perhaps that should be taken into consideration?<br><br>She just wanted to get to Whiterun and be done with this. Perhaps she had changed more than she thought? Suddenly, stepping food in a city full of people felt daunting; if a company of three were starting to spook her, what about adding a few dozen more? And going without Asher at her side caused her heart to sink into the pit of her stomach, filling her with a cold, nagging dread. Perhaps she could ask Aelfgar for a favor, or penance for healing his hand?<br><br>Yet, even still, she knew this needed to be done. Getting over her anxiety here would make it easier to do so in Whiterun, where she intended to establish her life and make her family proud. Sometimes the only options were uncomfortable ones. And a nice, soft bed did sound rather enticing… perhaps a hot bath as well? Remembering these little luxuries helped, and gave her the strength she needed at least to get to the gate. Hopefully by the time she reached them Drake would have figured out how to pass through.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>18-09-2013, 03:56:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br><br><br><br><br>Iljana appeared in much better shape than she had been; Drake's healing skills were significant and quite valuable.&nbsp; However, he was not at all certain of four of them traveling together for any distance other than to Markarth.&nbsp; A were- was not comfortable in larger numbers when those larger numbers were all strangers.&nbsp; He wondered how he would deal with city life again...for so much of his life, he'd simply taken his wolf shape and hunted when the blood hunger came upon him, and it was easily sated with an animal or two of the wild.&nbsp; However, with Drake at his side for the foreseeable future, and Asher as well, he was uncertain of what to do.&nbsp; <br><br>"Perhaps this would be a good time to take stock of our situation, and make camp or move on.&nbsp; I myself must head back some small distance and retrieve my horses and gear; it should take me only a little time."&nbsp; He looked at Drake--she was secure enough with her skills and Asher's support, and he did not believe the two newcomers to be dangerous, but he'd just taken oath to travel with the elf to the city...was leaving her even for this short time a breach of his word?&nbsp; No, for they were not traveling at the moment.&nbsp; Besides, Drake was likely far safer with the other two than he would be alone, getting his belongings.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Black Howling</strong> on <strong>21-09-2013, 09:35:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LeXUKip.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Moric<br><strong>Location:</strong> Just Outside Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Iljana, Open<br><hr>When the statuesque Elf approached, Moric stepped back a few strides. It wasn't out of caution, no just the way the lady carried herself. It was obvious to someone skilled in reading body language that she could handle the woman's wounds far better then he could. He had a pack full of bandages and medicinal herbs to dull pain and increase healing. If his gauge was correct, this elf had the gift of healing magic; and if that was the case his meager skills would just get in the way. So he stood a fair distance apart from them, smiling with amusement as the Warrior Woman made her barrage of questions. <br><br>Most wood elves were quite chatty, this lass managed to surprise him though. She seemed almost distant, even as the Nord accepted her aid and she produced the soft glow of her healing touch. Moric had seen the magic plenty enough times to know it was cast quite skillfully, but still that elsewhere act kept up in the Elf. It was a curiosity, and while he wanted to press her concerning it, he held off his wandering mind. He didn't know any of them well enough to badger them with his eccentricities, so for now he'd keep them at bay. For now.<br><br><strong>"No, I'm fine. Just a few bruises, and a torn shirt."</strong> Moric answered the Elf in a pleasant tone. It was around that point the tall Nord Man spoke, announcing his ideas for a plan and what he needed to do. The Bard just nodded to the words, tilting his head. <strong>"We can camp here if the lot of you prefer it. It'd give him time for the horse, but back that way is crowded by more then a few Forsworn. I'd be happy to accompany you if you'd like."</strong> He offered the help, but when considering the pairs existing hesitance,it really didn't seem likely he'd accept. He had to make the offer though, it was part of his code. <br><br><strong>"Regardless, I'm not much for caring. The City is just a stone's throw from here in comparison to how far I've traveled as is. A nice fire and sleep sounds equally agreeable, though."</strong> He said as he fished a single piece of dried meat from his pack, and chewing on it lightly. He offered a few to the others after the breach in manners caught up to him. He hadn't expected to find company on the road this far north, but he wouldn't reject other intelligent creatures to speak with. After all, his conversations with the rocks and random animals were beginning to turn rather one sided. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>21-09-2013, 10:59:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Moric, Aelfgar, Drake, Open<br><br>Iljana flexes her shoulder blades and turns back to Drake.&nbsp; <strong>Thank you for helping me with my wounds.</strong> She says gratefully.&nbsp; She smiles at Moric and says <strong>I'm fine with either decision.&nbsp; I can start building a fire if we wish to camp for the night.</strong>&nbsp; Iljana looks around at the group noting Drake's quiet gracefulness, Aelfgars concern for his horse and belongings, and Moric's seeming hesitancy.&nbsp; <br><br>Iljana inwardly kicks herself for being so chatty to total strangers.&nbsp; It's been a while since she's had any real social outlet and sometimes she can get pretty gregarious if not careful.&nbsp; She's surprisingly shy natured and deals with nervousness by talking.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>21-09-2013, 19:51:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br><br><hr><br>Drake felt a frown threaten her lips, yet she managed to keep it off her face and away from her eyes, swallowed down like bitter bile. The thought of camping out here another night was… well she found it baffling. They were so close, and the overly cautious part of her mind couldn’t quite make out the logic of camping as an option. Had they ulterior motives; looking to rob the great nord and the elf in their sleep, if not slip them some poison? Or was it that the thought of traveling another hour was too daunting a task, and exhaustion had taken root in their limbs? Ah… paranoia. When the Dark Brotherhood was out to get you, everyone seemed to play the role of assassin.<br><br>Mentally she kicked herself. Really, she wanted to roll her eyes and scoff but that may have been taken out of context. “I must keep traveling,” she stated simply. “You are welcome to come along, or to stay if that is your desire, but I will be traveling to Markarth tonight. I’ve business to attend to, and it has taken too long already.” Drake bowed her head respectfully, then stepped away to allow the two additions to make their own choices. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t needed for their deliberation, and the extra space soothed her nerves that weren’t any longer accustomed to being around so many people, except the ones who needed an arrow in their throat.<br><br>Asher was purring softly off to one side; the great cat had found himself some shelter from the wet snow under an outcropping of stone. Steam rolled from his mouth like a dragon, but his lazy eyes simply said ‘content’, rather than ‘hungry, terrible monster’. A lazy yawn stretched his mouth and showed his formable teeth, but it snapped closed before a few licks of his chops. “Oh, and are you staying?” The elf asked, one hand on her hip while her brow quirked in question. Asher blinked at her for a few seconds, until stretching out his stocky form and climbed to his feet. He left prints the size of Drake’s head in her wake. “Lazy beast.” Yet her hand automatically reached for his face, scratching behind one of those tufted ears as she made her way down the path towards the horse and supplies Aelfgar had indicated.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>26-09-2013, 04:34:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br><br><br><br>It took only ten minutes to reach his tethered horses; they were under the overhang near the bottom of a cliff outcropping.&nbsp; He approached the hulking black warhorse, stroking its chin and forehead.&nbsp; "Minnefat, aye, that's his name...ten years with me and built all of courage."&nbsp; Then he moved to the slightly smaller draft horse, which seemed just as intelligent as Minnefat, nickering and nuzzling Aelfgar's hand.&nbsp; "This is Terious...he's the heavy lifting boy among the two...but he'll not give a single complaint.&nbsp; He's been with me twelve years.&nbsp; These two are my closest friends in these wide lands, and they know me better than any two-legs."&nbsp; He said this with some humor, but there was much truth in it--and further, both of them were unfazed by his were-form, as there was too much of his human scent when in it, and he'd spent much time in the deep reaches of Skyrim in were-form while leading them towards a kill.&nbsp; He knew he ran a risk, if he couldn't find something to prey upon, that he might turn on his own horses, but so far he'd been wise enough to never put himself in that position.<br><br>After checking the gear on his horses, he began walking them back towards the camp; he was too respectful to mount Minnefat and ride while Drake walked.&nbsp; "Tell me more of the Companions," he spoke suddenly.&nbsp; He had a sudden urge to understand them better--to know what they offered someone like the elf...and perhaps he himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>30-09-2013, 09:34:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div>Name: Iljana<br>Location: The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br>Time: Early evening, dusk.<br>Tagging: Drake, Aelfgar, Moric, open<br><br><hr><br>Iljana watches the elf as she begins to walk away in the direction towards Aelfgar.&nbsp; She looks at Moric and turns to follow Drake.&nbsp; She walks past Asher and gives him a curious but wary look.&nbsp; Listening to Aelfgar's introduction to his horses, she smiles at the great beast of a warhorse.&nbsp; <strong>Minnefat is a beautiful beast!&nbsp; </strong>She says in awe.&nbsp; <strong>You are looking for the Companions?&nbsp; I've always wondered about them.&nbsp; How to become a companion.</strong> Hopefully she's not seeming too nosy but curiosity for where these people come from and what experiences they've had is very strong.&nbsp; Navigating the land as they walk, she waits for Drake's or Aelfgar's reply.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>17-10-2013, 05:12:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br><br><br><br>Aelfgar nodded politely at Iljana's praise of his horse, then gave a frown at her next question.&nbsp; "Something I myself am wondering."&nbsp; He turned to his elven companion.&nbsp; "what do you know of the Companions?&nbsp; I've spent so much time in the wilderness, I've gathered much less of them than most of my countrymen."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>22-10-2013, 07:35:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br><br><hr><br>Having the subject matter shift towards her own desires once again left the elf with a hallow feeling in her chest. Drake couldn’t quite make sense of the nervous flutter of her heart, and found herself giving the landscape a quick scan with her eyes for threats. Such a gesture was common practice in these lands, and who would blame her for being cautious? If only she understood the root of her sudden insecurity. She took to speaking in order to calm her nerves.<br><br>“They are quite similar to the ‘Fighters Guild’ in Cyrodiil, in that they are often hired out to serve and protect those in need. Yet these men and women have been leaderless since Ysgramore, and govern themselves as equals, if it is not already obvious by their very name.” Drake slowly turned her eyes from the landscape, meeting the Nord’s before allowing them to drift back towards the dark, jagged peaks that slowly accumulated the lazy snow. “They are the very best fighters in all of Skyrim, hunters of beast and man alike. But do not mistake them for mercenaries who can be persuaded by gold; these are people of honor.”<br><br>Drake’s head canted off to one side, a passing look of curiosity flickering openly across her face before one fine brow arched in question. “I am honestly surprised a Nord has not heard much about them; I’ve been captivated of the tales of the Companions since I was a little girl learning the bow in Valenwood. Only the best and the worthy may become part of the guild.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>22-10-2013, 09:48:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br><br>Aelfgar caught the arching brow of Drake; she'd done it a couple of times already and it brought an attractive expression to her already-attractive face.&nbsp; Above those heavy lashes, the slim eyebrows made a most pleasant contrast...but that was what elves were known for--those angelic faces untouched by the typical diseases of humanity, and their limber, youthful bodies.&nbsp; Aelfgar wondered then what her body looked like under her cleverly segmented armor--likely as lithe and toothsome as any elven maid he'd been lucky enough to see unclothed...though she was a warrior, and he was sure she sported some fine muscle as well.&nbsp; She was certain to be a step above the softer, untrained elven women he'd bedded in his past.&nbsp; And if his mind slipped to thoughts of more carnal delights, he had to be forgiven the roughness of his culture, which held such things as natural and unnecessary to hide behind civilized taboos, regardless of his steady and upright honor.&nbsp; Yes, he was sure she'd be a delight untasted before by his heady palate.<br><br>"I've spent more time in the tales of our distant and less recent past, as my family is storied like yours, though likely not storied with as many years.&nbsp; I do know of the Companions somewhat, but...being as solitary as I have been for most of my life, was uninterested in what they might offer...until now."&nbsp; He mused on the words she'd spoken, then gazed out, as she had so briefly before, on the darkened horizon.&nbsp; "Do you feel it in the air?"&nbsp; It was more than his were-developed sense of smell.&nbsp; "War is coming.&nbsp; The two factions in my land are coming closer to breaching the gates of Death with oaths and deeds of blood.&nbsp; Most of it I have no need or interest in...rulers rule from behind walls of stone, and pay little heed to the lives of the rest of us; I have small use for kings and lords upon the mountainsides of my homeland, where I walk alone and chieftain of my own life.&nbsp; If the Companions harken to deeds of honor, though, that makes them a worthy and respectable fellowship to attain.&nbsp; Such allies would be a boon to belong to in the coming dark days.&nbsp; At the least, the glory to win in death would be greater under their banner."<br><br>He turned to Iljana and Moric.&nbsp; "<em>One new companion an accident, two an act of the gods</em>, or so says our <em>Book of Exalted Deeds</em>."&nbsp; He knew Iljana would be familiar with the phrase of Nordic religious text.&nbsp; "What does that make three?&nbsp; I've already had enough godly interference to sate a lifetime, but if we meet thus in a nondescript portion of Forsaken land, who is to say what more may come?&nbsp; Let us make the quick distance to Markarth, and at the least lodge in relative safety within its walls.&nbsp; I feel a fire and a tankard of ale is the least we all deserve tonight."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>raptorlady80</strong> on <strong>23-10-2013, 03:13:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bb/Nord-Iljana-small.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Iljana Horviksdotter<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, Just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Drake, Moric<br><br>Iljana looks around at the landscape now shadowed in darkness.&nbsp; The biting cold settling more and more through clothing even for those used to it.&nbsp; She wonders if the elven woman has gotten used to it yet.&nbsp; She assumes that elven lands are more temperate though she imagines that they probably experience all sorts of weather patterns too.&nbsp; The snow is beautiful even in its cruelty.&nbsp; Though Iljana's imagination often wanders to thoughts of warm places, she would miss the harsh but beautiful land that she only knows.&nbsp; <br><br>Agreeing with Aelfgar's opinion regarding warm fire and ale, Iljana begins to trek through the snow towards the city of Markarth.&nbsp; The snowfall at this point is just large flakes sprinkling around them rather than the heavy curtain it was before.&nbsp; Breath frosting in the crisp air and muted sounds of the night join the group as they make their way towards comfort.<br><br><strong>I have a modest but warm home where you can find respite.&nbsp; I could prepare a meal and offer drink to you all if you'd be my guests?&nbsp; The beds are simple yet comfortable.&nbsp; All I ask for in return is your company.&nbsp; You may stay as long as you need.</strong>&nbsp; Iljana continues to lead the way as she allows each to either take her up on her offer or go on their separate ways.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>28-10-2013, 02:00:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Drake Turrel<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Dark<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br><br><hr><br>The ground was becoming treacherous as the snow fell from the heavens, turning the patches that could qualify as grass muddy underfoot as the small pools of water iced from the freeze. Even the stone path the companions found slowed their pace, but failed to stop them completely. They were getting close now, evident by the sudden, electrical buzz that hung invisible in the air around them that signaled life and activity. Tall peaks of stone stretched out on either side, but as the road curved towards the east, a soft glow of the city lights soon became clear. The thin hum of music from a tavern echoed around them, destroying the silence of the evening, even though they were still too far away yet to make out the notes of any particular song.<br><br>Drake fell back from the line, fading into darkness like a wraith while the remaining three travelers conversed and spoke with comfortable ease. The elf didn’t <em>not</em> want to enter into the city, where she was still tantalized with the thoughts of a soft bed and a hot bath, but instincts were hard to ignore. There was no safety in numbers, being seen with strangers would only lead trouble their way, as well as more guilt and shame the elf didn’t wish to bear.<br><br>With an inward sigh she allowed them to take their steps and round the corner, leaving her alone in the dark until the great cat padded silently beside her. She stroked his ears, content with the deep rumble of his purr. “Just the evening,” she reassured him, shifting her weight as Asher rubbed his cheek along her side and nearly pushed her from her feet. “You think you’ll behave yourself? Leave the cattle and horses alone…” The cat continued to purr, then yawned widely, flashing his fangs in the dark. Drake only assumed that was acknowledgement, before she stepped forward again on the path. Asher was gone when she looked over her shoulder, off somewhere in the rocky cliffs until she returned. He’d find her, he always did.<br><br>As the road began to break apart between stretches of snow-covered mud and crumbling stone, the sounds of life greeted the three traveler’s ears. Guards could be seen up ahead, some standing watch in dwemer ruins, looking down into the valley, others standing by the twin doors that stretched taller than even a giant could hope to reach. Torches were lit to cast a pale glow on the stone steps that led towards the entrance of the city, but no guard in their right mind would allow stranger entrance into a city past the hours of sunlight without some measure of interrogation. Vampires were always a problem.<br><br>“Who comes?” Asked one woman, lightly armored and armed with a mace. Her stance was relaxed enough to state that no surge of trouble was threatening the city, but not so relaxed that she couldn’t swing her weapon and smash a skull like a melon in seconds, if provoked. They were all fresh-faced and alert. It seemed the party had caught the guards just after the changing of the shifts. “State your name and business in Markarth.”<br><br>“Drake Turrel,” the elf spoke up first, seeming to reappear from the dark she had disappeared in not minutes before, “with companions met on the road, one of which takes residence here. We’re looking for room and board, not trouble.”<br><br>“Turrel?” The guard who stood to the left flank spoke up, surprise ringing clear in his voice. “As in Valenwood?”<br><br>“Aye,” Drake stepped forward, keeping her right arm loose at her side while the left lifted to pull her amulet out from beneath her armor.<br><br>The guard lifted a brow under his helmet before nodding, giving a half-laugh of disbelief. “Well I’ll be… You’re a long ways from home, with all due respect.” He released the pendant of Drake’s amulet, and stepped to the side. “A Turrel is always welcome in this city. Welcome to Markarth.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Elder Scrolls: Brothers at War[Markarth IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HannibalBarca</strong> on <strong>30-10-2013, 02:15:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd461/rikk_319/Character%20Images/Viking_Warrior_by_severeene.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Aelfgar<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Reach, just outside of Markarth<br><strong>Time:</strong> Early evening, dusk.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Drake, Iljana, Moric, open<br><br><br><br>"Aye, and you'll know me as well, Bjerik," Aelfgar rumbled with a wry smile, stepping into the light and the view of the first male guard.<br><br>"That I do, Torvald's son.&nbsp; It is good to see you've survived another season in the wild...though I wish you'd take up a position in the city, for we'd not mind your arm or blade beside us in these troubled times."<br><br>Aelfgar chuckled.&nbsp; "I'd chafe here, Toric's son...my spirit is larger than my body, and needs the space of the wilderness!&nbsp; These others travel with us, though Iljana Torviksdottir dwells within the walls, and Moric is a bard and, I am sure, knows how to warm the hearts of any taverngoers in Markarth.&nbsp; I shall vouchsafe for him."<br><br>"Very well," the female guard replied, nodding.&nbsp; "I can't say I'm saddened to see four sturdy types take lodging in our city.&nbsp; The Foresworn are up to something, I can feel it."<br><br>"You're feeling the need for a tankard, Berdulfa, I'll warrant," Bjerik replied symathetically, "as am I, and the warmth of roast boar in my belly, but our change of guard has just begun.&nbsp; And the Foresworn do not worry me as much as the threat that looms between Ulfric's Heir and Baldr."<br><br>"Hrm."&nbsp; Berdulfa gazed grimly on her guard companion, and at the four travelers.&nbsp; "That is true enough, I am afraid.&nbsp; Enter Markarth, and heed all laws and representatives of the city guard.&nbsp; <em>May Shor guide your way to the Hall of Valor</em>," she ended with a particular blessing from the god of the afterlife.<br><br>"<em>And I before you</em>," Aelfgar spoke the usual reply, wishing the guard well.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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