Rise of the Foresworn 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: Foxfyr on 29-01-2012, 03:18:16</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Foxfyr</strong> on <strong>29-01-2012, 03:18:16</strong>
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				OOC Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=130619.0)<br><br>Another night, another trip to the bar, and yet another attempted mugging by racist drunkards.&nbsp; Such a series of events was more than typical in Windhelm for anybody who wasn't a Nord.&nbsp; Though M'Ravirr managed to be the one standing after the conflict with his money still in hand, he had received his fair share of bruising.&nbsp; For the umpteenth time the Khajiit made a vow to himself to leave the city of bigots at the very first opportunity to do so.&nbsp; Of course this had been going on for years now and he was struggling just to make ends meet.&nbsp; At least there he had a house... or more accurately a shanty to provide some shelter from the biting cold of Skyrim.&nbsp; And sure, he could technically leave whenever he wanted, but as it stood he had a paltry sum to his name and it would only be through uncharacteristically good luck that he manages to find a dwelling before his funds run dry.&nbsp; The rundown home may not be much, but he was thankful for not being among the less fortunate who literally freeze to death from exposure during the especially cold nights.<br><br>A strong breeze of super chilled air scooped down into the clearing before Candlehearth Hall, forcing the Khajiit to grip his robes to minimize the number of places the biting wind could penetrate his attire.&nbsp; As is passed, his triangular feline ears twitched in response to hearing the flapping of parchment.&nbsp; Turing his head under his hood to follow the source of the noise, he noticed a flier pinned on the Hall's door.&nbsp; With his curiosity piqued, he approached and read the announcement.<br><br><div align="center"><em>Adventurers of Skyrim,&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>An expedition comprised of freelance mercenaries is being assembled<br>to investigate the odd phenomena happening on the western expanses<br>of our land.&nbsp; If you seek gold or glory and wish to offer your hand in aid<br>to the High King and your homeland, convene in the Cloud District of<br>Whiterun by noon on 21st of Mid Year.<br><br>Engar Gogrek, steward of the High King&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </em></div><br>M'Raviir's eyes opened wide as he read that notice.&nbsp; Though doubt ruled his mind, there was finally an opportunity to leave this retched city for good.&nbsp; He may be an adventurer by the loosest of terms, but by Fadomai's grace, this was his one opportunity and he was not going to let it pass him by!<br><br><hr><br>Though internally M'Raviir shook with uncertainty and anxiety, he somehow managed to keep those weak emotions from reflecting to his outward composure as he stood surrounded by adventurers worthy the title in Whiterun's Cloud District.&nbsp; During the entire ride to Whiterun his mind was haunted by the fact that he had uprooted himself; everything he owned was now carried upon his person and everything that couldn't be was sold for whatever coin he could get.&nbsp; It was official.&nbsp; He was homeless and with enough money to sustain him for a short time, but he had a purpose.&nbsp; An opportunity to prove himself and hopefully make himself a fair amount of wealth in the process.<br><br>There had to be more than two score people in the courtyard who were boasting their accomplishments to one another, scoffing at those who they deemed inferior, or assumed a stoic posture.&nbsp; M'Raviir did his best to stay firmly planted in the latter category.&nbsp; A man with an unusually small frame for a Nord, but dressed in the finest clothes this Khajiit had ever laid eyes on waited patiently for the sun to rise to its apex in the clear sky above.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Empyrean</strong> on <strong>31-01-2012, 05:22:07</strong>
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				"So? What do you think Tavi?"<br><br>The young woman looked at her looming bodyguard with a silvery-blonde eyebrow raised. They were in the middle of the good old Bee and Barb in Riften, back home again after a little job in Morrowind. It hadn't been much. Some up and coming merchant had opened a gem mine. It looked profitable so the Guild had sent her there in disguise to con the deed out of the luckless bastard. It hadn't been that hard. The mark had a soft heart so she and Bolli had pulled the old damsel-in-distress routine. He pretended to beat her, letting the mark act all heroic by "rescuing" her. Then Bolli had knocked off to the taverns while Octavia worked her charms. It had taken a few months of whirlwind "romance" but the merchant was wed to his dear "Lilia". She'd given him a month or so of wedded bliss and then convinced him to take a tour of the mines. <br><br>While he was away she'd snuck a little herbal concoction into his favorite drink and some blackmail material in his possessions. When he came back a week later, she served him his dosed drink. Sure enough, he fell asleep. And that's when she'd snuck Bolli in, as planned. He'd wrecked the mansion for a bit, looted anything valuable, and then they'd staged the scene. When her dear husband came to, still confused from the drugs, Bolli had roughed him up and forced him to sign some things. They made it look like "Lilia" was killed by the intruder. Bolli had carried her out, pretending to be dead, and reported back. Sure enough, the Guild was sending its' people down to seize control of the gem mines. The papers her "husband" had signed had given full ownership of the mines to Lilia's family. It was all there, nice and legal. So what if her family was a crime family? And there was the blackmail material to keep him from contesting it too. Fake evidence of his hiring the Dark Brotherhood to kill business rivals and being a cannibal. Things would go badly for the chump if he contested. Lucky him. He got to be a widower and bankrupt at the same time.<br><br>Octavia's only regret had been that washing the black dye out of her hair took <em>forever!</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Still, she wasn't one to rest on her laurels. It'd take time to get the mines up to speed for the Guild and she had plans to get the temple to Nocturnal renovated and expanded to serve as a second home for all Guild members in case their main home in Riften ever became unlivable. That took money. And she was bored. Back a week from Morrowind and after the big celebration there just wasn't that much to do. So this letter talking about a paying gig from the King sounded better than lounging around until the Nightingales or the Guild needed her for something. <br><br>"Sure. Why not? We could always do with more gold. Might even get something out of it." <br><br>So it was that she found herself in the courtyard on the appointed day, looking around with pale blue eyes. She wore an elegant silken blouse top of red Morrowind silk, cut low to leave her shoulders bare and expose much of her generous breasts. A short, tight red skirt clung to her hips and rear. High black doeskin boots reached to her knees and matching gloves stretched to her elbows. Her silvery-blonde hair was cut in a neat bob, and at her side was her long tapered blade, tinted a dark purple by the secrets of it's forging. A matching longbow with quiver full of arrows was strapped to her back, while a freshly shined elven shield hung on her left arm. The arm that was currently supporting a hand on a curvy hip. Behind her was the hulking Bolli, decked out in his set of orcish armor. His giant warhammer was strapped to his back and in his hands he carried the packs for both of them. <br><br>The two thieves eyed those around them with assessing gazes, waiting for the show to start.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>01-02-2012, 20:08:05</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://img687.imageshack.us/img687/5104/trianna.jpg)</div><br>A good hour before noon, Trianna arrived in the Cloud District of Whiterun, dressed in simple leathers with most of her clothes covered by a thick bear cloak.&nbsp; The easy weapon to spot, and what marked her as an adventurer, was the long elven bow and quiver laying ready for use upon her back.&nbsp; Trianna rarely wore armor, mostly because she'd yet had the necessity for it; few of her targets so far had been able to reach her in time to even make the attempt to respond in kind.<br><br>She took the time to adjust to the area, getting to know some of the nearby people, judging the cost of a room at the inn and preparing herself to once again step into the boots of an adventurer.&nbsp; The Night Mother had not been very busy of late, and there had been few sins for her to baptize over the last few weeks.&nbsp; This was pleasant in its own way, but it didn't allow her the opportunity to fill her coin purse as deeply as she preferred.&nbsp; Hopefully this new situation would rectify matters.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>05-02-2012, 10:55:05</strong>
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				ORIGINAL POST<br><br><em>The foresworn were out of control.</em> The thin leather of Kereva's boots did little to protect her from the falling snow. Her clothing was destroyed, almost all of it. The pack that she carried at her side, like the dead body of game, was mostly empty. The gown she was wearing had been ripped apart and left dirty under the hard iron boots of a foresworn rapist. <em>Her porch had felt so safe, they walked through it like kindling. She felt silly for even existing in such solitude, considering herself safe and independent... the irony shocked her.</em> The thick leather leggings that she usually had on were gone, also taken away by her western attacker. Her hair was dirty, and covered by a hood. She was all in brown, by mud and wet leather. the snow fall stuck to her hair. It was all was starting to freeze through. She tested the field between Eastmarsh and Windhelm. The fire's of the city were still many paces to go, she had yet to see them, or even the walls. <em>Four of them had ridden up on horseback, she'd killed two of them during the assault, but all of the bolts for her crossbow were out of reach. For a moment prolonged by their enjoyment, she was cornered in her four walled cabin directly across from the fireplace.</em> <br><br><em>She was holding up her hands in a plea for mercy before they started to hit her.</em> 'That was seven days ago,' she thought. Magicks had been used to heal herself on the shores of The Clearpine, a pond about 15 minutes South of her old home. Death had been her partner on the way. She had been letting blood out from four holes, and her vision was foggy from head trauma. Kereva was Traveling as far east as possible, as fast as possible. <em>She was a Nord. They hadn't let her forget that for a second. She submitted quickly, and her fireplace was let free by one of them. The cabin started to burn. She was carried outside onto the snow, and one man had requested to be left alone with her. That's when her clothing was discarded</em> Kereva didn't have any coin that first day. After ten hours walking, she arrived at Morthal, there one of the men employed at the inn had offered her a chance to prostitute herself. The offer wasn't missed. <em>The foresworn had completely defiled her, and he mistook her for a dead woman, defeated and crying on the ground, bleeding, and abused. But, he wasn't finished. As he was raping her, she took inventory of his weapon placements, he had left his axe on the snow in front of the burning porch. His Quiver of arrows laid, still, over ten feet away. But the dagger on his hip, that was only two inches above her hand, and the main artery in his armpit was only about 37.&nbsp; It only took one moment of resistance. She was stronger then she looked, and the dagger was bigger than it looked. She shattered his ribs and stabbed his heart. He was dead, not even, five seconds after she had acted. He wasn't finished</em><br><br><em>That brought light to her heart, no matter how bad he had broken his way into her. She had finished him, and he wasn't finished.</em> Most of her belongings were burnt up. She had only one bottle of wine that had been acquired in Rorickstead, two blankets, three dresses: Two that were mostly diminished by the fire, and the one that was ripped and bloody from the assault. And, her crossbow which escaped the fire without a mark on it. <em>Wisely, Kereva stumbled into the house to retrieve anything that could be saved before the fire consumed her entire life.</em><br><div align="center">#</div>In the last week she had been a whore four times, it seemed easy compared to the rape, almost enjoyable. But, she was beginning to hate the person she had become. As a proud Nord in the hills of solitude, she felt righteous and demur. Now, she felt like scum. the skin of her thighs must have looked like leather, she hadn't been cleaned. The snow had frozen the mud onto her body and her dress. <br><br>It was 21st of Midyear, and the sun was still climbing towards it's highest point in the sky. Her journey had come to an end, she had reached Windhelm. The walls were breached easily, her face was strong and her hair was blonde, the guards up front were more than welcome to let another Nord into the city. Once inside, Kereva found herself in the middle of a commotion. The Cloud district was full of dangerous folk, recognizable by their weapons and armour. But, just as easily recognizable by the cold look in their eyes. She couldn't help but take notice of them. In addition, some of them were taking notice of her. She felt culture shock, and it was a challenge to swallow. On the way here, she had traveled through five towns, and two of them had walls. None of them had as many people as there were in The Cloud district, right then. But she wasn't scared, only insecure. Her crossbow was strung up around her shoulder, and she was keen to the anxiety in the air. Most, if not all, of these people were waiting for something to happen.<br><br>There was a stench in the street that got her mind stirring. It was food, burning metals, Nords, and elves. Her luck had delivered her into this place at this time. The foresworn had assaulted her for being a Nord, the men of the hills were well aware of her existence, she had hunted with them for years. Now, a small army was traveling directly back from where she had just came from, if there was any vengenace in her heart at all, the idea may have excited her. But, she didn't even know what these people were gathering for, and her desires had sucked her directly into the inn. Although, she did <em>not</em> need to ask for it, she needed a bed and a bath. In no time, she got her way. There was coin in her pockets, now. <br><br>The bath was hot, the warmest she had felt in her entire life. Unwilling to sit in a pile of mud, Kereva had scrubbed the dirt off of her body before climbing inside. Another tub was beside her, but nobody was in it. She breathed slowly, trying to put the fragile pieces of her mind back together, like a clay pot, broken, and vital. Suddenly, a smile crossed her face, and it was hard to be angry. It was difficult to even remember why she was mad. The water was as powerful as her magicks. they only operated on different parts of her. "I could get used to this." she hummed into the perfect silence. <br><br>POST AFTER EDIT (affected text is in red)<br><br><em>The foresworn were out of control.</em> The thin leather of Kereva's boots did little to protect her from the falling snow. Her clothing was destroyed, almost all of it. The pack that she carried at her side, like the dead body of game, was mostly empty. The gown she was wearing had been ripped apart and left dirty under the hard iron boots of a foresworn rapist. <em>Her porch had felt so safe, they walked through it like kindling. She felt silly for even existing in such solitude, considering herself safe and independent... the irony shocked her.</em> The thick leather leggings that she usually had on were gone, also taken away by her western attacker. Her hair was dirty, and covered by a hood. She was all in brown, by mud and wet leather. the snow fall stuck to her hair. It was all was starting to freeze through. She tested the fields North of Whiterun. The fire's of the city were still many paces to go, she had yet to see them, or even the walls. <em>Four of them had ridden up on horseback, she'd killed two of them during the assault, but all of the bolts for her crossbow were out of reach. For a moment prolonged by their enjoyment, she was cornered in her four walled cabin directly across from the fireplace.</em> <br><br><em>She was holding up her hands in a plea for mercy before they started to hit her.</em> 'That was seven days ago,' she thought. Magicks had been used to heal herself on the shores of The Clearpine, a pond about 15 minutes South of her old home. Death had been her partner on the way. She had been letting blood out from four holes, and her vision was foggy from head trauma. Kereva was Traveling as far east as possible, as fast as possible. <em>She was a Nord. They hadn't let her forget that for a second. She submitted quickly, and her fireplace was let free by one of them. The cabin started to burn. She was carried outside onto the snow, and one man had requested to be left alone with her. That's when her clothing was discarded</em> Kereva didn't have any coin that first day. After ten hours walking, she arrived at Morthal, there one of the men employed at the inn had offered her a chance to prostitute herself. The offer wasn't missed. <em>The foresworn had completely defiled her, and he mistook her for a dead woman, defeated and crying on the ground, bleeding, and abused. But, he wasn't finished. As he was raping her, she took inventory of his weapon placements, he had left his axe on the snow in front of the burning porch. His Quiver of arrows laid, still, over ten feet away. But the dagger on his hip, that was only two inches above her hand, and the main artery in his armpit was only about 37.&nbsp; It only took one moment of resistance. She was stronger then she looked, and the dagger was bigger than it looked. She shattered his ribs and stabbed his heart. He was dead, not even, five seconds after she had acted. He wasn't finished</em><br><br><em>That brought light to her heart, no matter how bad he had broken his way into her. She had finished him, and he wasn't finished.</em> Most of her belongings were burnt up. She had only one bottle of wine that had been acquired in Rorickstead, two blankets, three dresses: Two that were mostly diminished by the fire, and the one that was ripped and bloody from the assault. And, her crossbow which escaped the fire without a mark on it. <em>Wisely, Kereva stumbled into the house to retrieve anything that could be saved before the fire consumed her entire life.</em><br><div align="center">#</div>In the last week she had been a whore four times, it seemed easy compared to the rape, almost enjoyable. But, she was beginning to hate the person she had become. As a proud Nord in the hills of solitude, she felt righteous and demur. Now, she felt like scum. the skin of her thighs must have looked like leather, she hadn't been cleaned. The snow had frozen the mud onto her body and her dress. <br><br>It was 21st of Midyear, and the sun was still climbing towards it's highest point in the sky. Her journey had come to an end, although she didn't know it, Whiterun's border's and farms surrounded her. The walls were breached easily, her face was strong and her hair was blonde, the guards up front were more than welcome to let another Nord into the city. Once inside, Kereva found herself in the middle of a commotion. All the streets were full of odd folk, She could see The Cloud district from the second level of the city. It was full of dangerous folk, recognizable by their weapons and armour. But, just as easily recognizable by the cold look in their eyes. She couldn't help but take notice of them. She felt culture shock, and it was a challenge to swallow. On the way here, she had traveled through five towns, and two of them had walls. None of them had as many people as there were in The Cloud district, right then. But she wasn't scared, only insecure. Her crossbow was strung up around her shoulder, and she was keen to the anxiety in the air. Most, if not all, of these people were waiting for something to happen.<br><br>There was a stench in the street that got her mind stirring. It was food, burning metals, Nords, and elves. Her luck had delivered her into this place at this time. The foresworn had assaulted her for being a Nord, the men of the hills were well aware of her existence, she had hunted with them for years. Now, a small army was traveling directly back from where she had just came from, if there was any vengenace in her heart at all, the idea may have excited her. But, she didn't even know what these people were gathering for, and her desires had sucked her directly into the inn. Although, she did <em>not</em> need to ask for it, she needed a bed and a bath. In no time, she got her way. There was coin in her pockets, now. <br><br>The bath was hot, the warmest she had felt in her entire life. Unwilling to sit in a pile of mud, Kereva had scrubbed the dirt off of her body before climbing inside. Another tub was beside her, but nobody was in it. She breathed slowly, trying to put the fragile pieces of her mind back together, like a clay pot, broken, and vital. Suddenly, a smile crossed her face, and it was hard to be angry. It was difficult to even remember why she was mad. The water was as powerful as her magicks. they only operated on different parts of her. "I could get used to this." she hummed into the perfect silence. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kate</strong> on <strong>07-02-2012, 17:01:54</strong>
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				Sandra walked her horse to the district, and had pleaded for the guards to let her and insisted that it would not make a mess on the fine streets, Strangely the did accept grudgingly however she was sure a fine may occur if the horse did prove her wrong.<br><br>Many were assembled, and many were talking. This seemed a lovely town, why any who lived here would want to risk everything was well known to her, ... what if right ?<br><br>She was one of such people. Her robes making it clear what sort of powers she would bring to any group which formed.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Foxfyr</strong> on <strong>10-02-2012, 02:31:04</strong>
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				Looking upward to verify the sun had reached its highpoint on the daytime sky, Engar returned his gaze to the gathering of ruffians before him.&nbsp; Drawing in a deep breath, he spoke in a booming voice that seemed entirely out of place coming from such a lean looking man.<br><br>"I am sure you all are already aware of why you are gathered here today, so I'll skip the details and get straight to the point.&nbsp; As you may know, rumors have been running rampant regarding the mysterious happenings to the west and your High King is just as curious as you are to figure out the cause of Markarth's silence.&nbsp; In an effort to shed some light onto this mystery, your king has set aside a purse of 75,000 septims to the first person or persons who return with a full report regarding his matter and irrefutable evidence to support it.&nbsp; As you can expect, such a bounty will not be offered out readily and will not be content with circumstantial evidence backed by the word of a stranger.&nbsp; Even after the grand reward has been given, an additional purse has been set aside to reward those who provide additional information that may help us in dealing with any threat that may be lurking to the west.&nbsp; The race for the prize has officially begun!&nbsp; Once you find your proof, return with it to Dragonsreach where your case will be judged."<br><br>With that, the gathering of mercenaries with dollar signs now in their eyes, begun to disband.&nbsp; Looking around, M'Ravirr noticed that several had either arrived in a group or were making temporary alliances in order to strengthen the odds of their success at the cost of a portion of such a generous reward.&nbsp; From the sound of the current situation the Khajiit could tell he was out of his league on his own and if he wanted any chance at that grand prize, or even surviving the journey, he would need help.&nbsp; Scanning over the group of moving bodies, his gaze fell upon an elven woman whose figure and attire suggested competency through lithe grace.&nbsp; Of course, there are always situations where one's agility is hampered leaving only brute strength and wit.&nbsp; Though he could not yet measure how keen her mind was, his physical strength would likely do well in supporting her swift skill and it seemed like the most logical person to approach in hopes of forming an alliance.<br><br>Doing his best to keep a cool swagger to his step, despite the uncertainty that was still warring in his mind, M'Ravirr approached Trianna.&nbsp; "I couldn't help but notice that you do not yet have others who are going to aid you in this race we now find ourselves in.&nbsp; I get the impression that you are skilled with a bow, but my forte lies in dealing with multiple adversaries who get in close.&nbsp; It stands to reason that our individual styles compliment the other's quite well.&nbsp; By chance would you be interested in working together to increase our odds of claiming the grand prize?"&nbsp; Regardless of the woman's answer, he would not be content in leaving Whiterun without a few traveling companions even if it meant spending all afternoon in search for them.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>10-02-2012, 18:16:00</strong>
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				The mention of so many septims, especially all at once, was a little awe-inspiring.&nbsp; She'd barely ever imagined even having more than a tenth of that money all at once, and only then if she was phenomenally lucky.&nbsp; It showed a sense of fear within the nobles of this city; they were horrified by what was going on, and it would need to be dealt with, one way or another.<br><br>Trianna glanced up once approached, her thoughts shifted from her considerations.&nbsp; It was actually somewhat of a relief, for even though she had many talents, standing up close and fighting simply wasn't one of them.&nbsp; "Indeed," she replied.&nbsp; "I'm more of a scout.&nbsp; Archery, stealth and gymnastics."&nbsp; She offered him a hand.&nbsp; "I'd be happy to work together for an even split when we find something, although if so much money is being offered, I'm not sure if even just the two of us would suffice."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>10-02-2012, 20:44:02</strong>
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				Kereva spent a matter of minutes naked out of the bath to apply some attention to one of her dresses, the burnt up one, with a baby blue color. Most of the fabric that would have covered her chest and back was burned away, and the black charcoal color of the edges displeased her. She ripped the burned sections away further to discard the singed fabrics. The bottom of the gown was also tempered, the heat had burned away a layer of cotton or two, and a very thin gown was left to wear. She put it on over her moist skin to test it's usage, still. Her left breast was exposed, as well as the better part of her back. The top part of her left hip also showed, but her legs were completely veiled behind a thin layer of wool and one of cotton underneath. Rough leather against the sensitive skin of her chest would not be favorable. She took a long piece of black stretched cotton and anchored her breast inside of it, wrapping the clothe around her opposite shoulder, and around her back under her left arm. She pinned it there, against her rib, and then put on her leather vest. <br><br>she gathered what was left of her belongings from the bedroom she had purchased and made way toward the Cloud District. Her bathe had reignited her spirits, and a loud clatter was surging from the small section of city above her. She decided that she could sleep later, commotions only last for so long, and if unattended, one was likely to miss some value. Her crossbow rested on her back attached to a sling and seven bolts for that weapon were dangling in a quiver on her left hip, the one still exposed from her burnt gown. Her feet were covered in leather, but her legs were still bare under the dress and it irritated her. <br><br>She would be on the lookout for an adventurer with wares to sell, specifically, one selling leathers for a thin woman's legs. Her coin was low, but she had developed unique bartering skills on her week long journey to Whiterun.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Empyrean</strong> on <strong>12-02-2012, 19:12:06</strong>
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				Octavia's eyes, despite themselves, widened at the purse being offered. That plus an additional purse! "I don't know about you Bolli, but suddenly I'm feeling very civic-minded." She heard the big man chuckle behind her and then turned her attention to scanning the crowd. Much as she'd love to have that purse all to herself, if the nobles were offering this much money it was probably for something serious. She might need backup. Or meat shields. She wasn't some hulking Nord berseker that could just plow through any challenge. Besides, if the group thing didn't work out there was always the possibility of just stealing the septims out from under that weedy little announcer's nose. <em>That</em> would be a challenge worthy of a Nightingale!<br><br>She scanned the Khajiit and the elven woman with a raised eyebrow and then approached in a smooth gliding motion. "Morning there. Name's Octavia. This here is my bodyguard Bolli." The big man nodded once. "So I was thinking we might team up for this little run. On our own each of us is undoubtedly mighty but together we stand a better shot of getting that purse. I don't know about the rest of you but I'm certainly not built to handle every potential challenge on my own." She gestured to her willowy frame, and then pointed to Kereva. "Besides, not every challenge will be physical, and sometimes it's useful to be underestimated. Take her for example. She looks like a beggar and she just might be. Or she might be a fantastically talented warrior or wizard hiding her light under a bushel. You just never know."&nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kate</strong> on <strong>14-02-2012, 09:06:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well I am a Sorceress, and a damn good one"<br><br>Sandra said to the few organising a group<br><br>"The best at conjuration you will find and probably the best at a few others also" She winked<br><br>"Happy to demonstrate at any oppitunity, but I hope to join some who would be happy to share such gold"<br><br>She got on her horse and started moving towards the gates. <br><br>"Happy also to wait for any to buy a horse or get food or feed for travelling, or we can see how lucky we are on the way"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rise of the Foresworn IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>19-02-2012, 12:08:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kereva approached the group that was forming, she could see a few members of the party glance her way at the same time, and though she was only looking for some one to barder with, or offer her body in exchange for coin, she was filled with purpose as she took every step. The bustle around her was hypnotic, and the still building anxiety couldn't stop from grasping her attention. As she got with in speaking distance, she tried not to expose too much of her skin, placing her arms strategically around her torso. It was an odd reaction for her to partake in, displaying her beauty to strangers had been working well for her lately. she still looked striking underneath the broken clothing and her withdrawn eyes. "I am Kereva Maalkum. I've heard a lot of noise from my place inside of the inn." She gestured down towards the lower districts, and asked the only real question on her mind, "what's everyone gathered for? there isn't any danger nearby is there? I've traveled a long way to escape these troubles of the foresworn. I'm starting to fear that it will follow me no matter where I may arrive." <br><br>A low gust of wind found it's way around her fabrics, and it forced itself against her skin, she felt hollow for a moment and tried not to stare at anyone with too much focus. She feared displeasure from the group, as she felt helpless before them. their bodies were hard and trained to kill, and their eyes looked ready to deliver damage. Bolli inspired most of Kereva's reserved behavior. He was threatening in every way she could imagine.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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