The TES Roleplayer's Thread

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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by SM-Dreamer »

Not familiar with 'Best Served Cold' but I was indeed thinking a warrior, or even a thief, to be honest (but that could be my love for Brynjolf bleeding through :P). She is rough, but I see her growing to something better, and I'd like someone at her side to help her through that process.

Haven't met the Companions yet (too much fun with thieves, haha), so I'm not sure who, if anyone, she might get along with.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

I'm not sure what to do with Aejiri next. In the game. She has just completed the Way of the Voice and started the horn of jurgen windcaller but she has been attacked by cultists. Dawnguard, i intend to start after the Elder scroll quest to explain why she knows what one looks like. Or after the main quest.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Dohva. »

SM: that sounds like a lovely plan for her. Keep feeling her out. One thing to try could be exposing her to various followers and seeing how she takes to them and finds the right one.

Dovah: Do what feels organic. What level is she? For ex: I wait until my characters are level 50 before finishing the MQ. Then Dragonborn. But Dawnguard Lieth did at level 19 because of roleplay circumstances, so feel out what Aeijir wants to do. :)
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

SM: Since she's in no rush, I'd have to agree with Dohva on taking on a lot of followers to find that right someone for her. And on that note, don't forget one follower that is often overlooked: Roggi Knot-Beard. True, he isn't the greatest warrior, and he's too worried about his honor to be a thief, but I think he could help her with the "someone who teaches her to be human" part.

Dovah: As a merchant, Aejiri would probably be interested in setting up trade with Solstheim. Just a thought.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

She's level 34 and i intend to not start Dragonborn untill after the main quest. I've decided to continue with the main quest and let it flow naturally.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

That's cool too. I was just throwing a reason for her to go out there. I can see many reasons for her to not go there yet as well.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

She has yet to visit Solitude and the minor holds(barring Winterhold). I think she will be level 40-50 by the time she arrives there.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Ah, excellent, she has plenty to do, merchant wise then still.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

Yep and i'm just 60 hours in. Aejiri is my first character to last more then 40 hours and i can see her being the first to reach 100k. Which would probably be at the point where she retires after ending the civil war in favour of the legion due to how close minded she believes the Stormcloaks are and does it because she feels it's her duty as dragonborn to do so.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Wow, really? I would have expected you to have characters to have lasted longer. As to her joining the Legion (get's in character), "Aejiri, you traitor, you're too late. Tullius is no more! I sent his head rolling in the dust with Ulfric's daedric longsword."
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

I usually get bored after 40 hours. By the time she joins the legion, she will be very powerful and hopefully, have every shout (baring faction requirment shouts) thus will end it quickly. Then retire, adopt a few children. Sell her homes apart from two. Breezehome and Lakeview. And raise her children. After retiring from her role as Arch Mage.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Oh I've had my fair share of characters who didn't last long as well. You get an idea for a character, think it will be good, but it turns out to not be as fun as you hoped. Some characters though can last forever.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

Aejiri seems to be my favourite as i'm not bored of her yet. Could be the roleplaying or her not being a typical mage. Either way, she may reach the 100 hour mar. :O
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Ah, you play a lot of mages then?
Whenever you cross swords with an enemy you must not think of cutting him either strongly or weakly; just think of cutting and killing him. - Miyamoto Musashi
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

Yep. I think Aejiri will be set for life after she retires and can always sell potions or smith or enchant stuff if she feels like she is running low on septims. And drink a lot of skooma. Not in front of Quintus as he disapproves of the stuff and definitaly not in front of the kids.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Dohva. »

So I planned on having Onmund's story done by today but its been a hectic day for me. I probably won't post it until late next week since I'll be gone for a few days. But we'll get there!
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Dovah: Well maybe that's been your problem. Play a character that isn't a mage.

Dohva: it's ok. We'll let you slide THIS time.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Dohva. »

Ha, oh you. It will be worth the wait. :)

Dovah, boredom is why Sylmirie uses a sword. I cannot stand pure mages. They are so dull. I prefer using a combination of tactics. Besides, being a mage is about brains right? Sylmirie has more health than the average mage as a trick to myself so she could use less magica.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Elenath »

See, I knew the momentum would dissapate.

I've still got ideas, I just haven't felt motivated to sit down and write them. Hopefully by tomorrow, I'll make time.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

It happens. The important part is you still have the ideas floating about.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by SM-Dreamer »

I think I'll do that, feel out the followers and other people for her. She's so skittish right now anyways, lol.

So this is part two to the crow thing, though from Blade's perspective. I don't usually do first person, or present tense, so I don't know how well this came out what with her speech pattern (at present, it will clear up as she gets... more educated?)

Left For Dead
Hidden:
Mayb’ I shoulda let the crow have me.

Walking hurts so damn much, breathin’ too, and my head’s pitching in. Damn Horem and them boots of his.
I ever see his ugly face again, I’ll kill him.

Bloody lip, swollen eye so crusted in blood I can’t open it, fire on my cheek, and in my hand. Smallest finger’s broke, I think.

Killing him’d be too easy – toss him in a cage with them wolves he loves so much.

See how he likes it.

Wanna just sit and sleep, but can’t. Roads ain’t safe; if I learned one thing with Horem’s gang, it’s that.

They musta thought me dead, since they di’n’t drag me back. Wasn’t like I stole from them or nothing, but then again, mayb’ my running amounts to the same thing.

Throats dryer than the road, so I need water. Stomach hasn’t spoken up yet, but I’m betting I need food, too. Used to hunger, though – it can wait.

Scan the sky with the eye that’s clear. Late morning, clouds threatening to make my day even worse.

Hobble down the road, eyes an’ ears open for anything, nose too – and the wind sending a rank, musty smell my way. Stop. I know that smell.

Vicious claws and heavy bulk, roaring bets, slick blood coating me. Crawling out, a hollow victory – or maybe not, since I wa’n’t dead, and have to do it all again for Horem.

Sabre cat.

Some rocks nearby, big and good cover. Creep to ‘em, peer over, the rock rough and cold against my bruises.
Damn thing standing in the road. What the [&@%!] is it doing’?

Can’t go that way, along the plains. That leaves into the forest and up the mountains. Dunno the land much, but it’s better than back into the Reach.

Bloody Forsworn’d be too much for me t’ handle, and if I ran into the guards – I wa’n’t gonna give up this freedom – painful though it was – for a cell. Or the mines.

Careful, one slow step at a time, up into the hills. Once I’m outta its range, I sit against another rock, tired and sweating even in the cold.

Good thing, too, ‘cause moment later, I hear footsteps on the road. Far enough away to be safe, but gather my feet under me, just in case. Listen, and under their sounds, I think I hear waves.

Voices, 2 maybe 3. Clang of arms, rustle of nice cloth. Noble and their guard?

Watch ‘em walk by, griping about some wedding. Wonder what’ll happen when they hit the crossroads. Can’t tell ‘em – don’ trust any of ‘em.

Did make me pause, though. Got no way to defend myself. Sabre cats won’t be the only thing out here – wolves, bears, spiders, too.

Last makes me shudder. First two I can avoid – the one howls when you’re near, the other roared to get you to leave. Spiders, no noise, just attacked.

Vicious, poisonous, too many legs.

That put finding a weapon at the top of the list. Scan the path again, decide the waves are on the other side. Sneak across, over the short rise. Breath of relief.

Water

Lake from the look of it. Limp down to the shore, then stop.

Tent, fireplace, mer sittin’ by the lake.

Want his stuff – need is more like – but ‘cept for the hatchet, he’s got no weapon. String of fish and the pole means he’s a fishermer. Not a threat, no reason t’ touch him.

Creep closer, peek into the tent. Bedroll looks nice, but can’t sleep here. Book. Knapsack. Quick look, he hasn’t noticed. Open the bag, try a grin – and that was stupid, lip’s stinging.

Apples, potion, boots, another useless book. Took the first three – my shoes’re so worn the rocks and sticks’re poking my feet. Tale the fish, fingers fumbling to untie the knots, little finger on my right hand on fire and not helping anything. Stash it all in the ragged remnants of my shirt, slimy and cold against my skin.

Standing behind the mer, wonder whether I oughta kill him. Take his hatchet, campsite. Could survive with this stuff, get by.

Can’t do it. Got no good reason to. No one tellin’ me, just my own survival – and he ain’t a threat, so that don’t even matter much.

Farther down, away from him. Found some geese in the reeds, a mill nearby. Don’t see no one. Birds look good an’ fat, but too many feathers t’ deal with. Shoo them away, kneel into the water, sand soft on my bruised knees.

Face is a wreck. Blood matted in my hair, a cut along my scalp. That’s why it’s in my eye. Wash it away, icy and stinging the cuts. But ‘cept for the swelling, my eye don’t look damaged. Cut just below, jagged down my cheek.

Pop open the potion, chug it down, bitter and soothing. Close my eyes; relax as it washes through me, easing the pain. Cuts knitting, bones mending. Ribs ache less. Another glance in the water – swelling’s down. Wounds ain’t gone – finger’s still stiff and sore – but its better than waiting a few days I might not have.

Cup water into my mouth, ease the dry in my throat. Tastes so good. Wanna get clean, but got no fire and the water’s too cold, air’s got a bite to it. Horizon shows more clouds coming in.

Slink back to a tree, spear-shaped, needle leaves. Fresh, sharp scent from ‘em. Sit down, pull off the worn shoes, pull on the boots. Some warmth, cover my ankles better. Pull out the fish, peeling chunks off the bones with my fingers. Cold and slimy down my throat, but food’s food. Picked one clean, then ate the apple, crisp, sour green.

Gonna have to save the rest for later, though I’m still hungry. Can make it go another day, mayb’ two if I gotta.
Glancing at the mill, wonder whether it’s worth the risk. Mid-day, people there’d be working, cross the stream. House on this side, might be worth my while.

Lean back, still tired, crunch through the apple’s core, spit out the seeds. Wonder if they’ll grow.

Something feels… wrong. Off. Looking around, don’t see nothing. Hearin’ only bird chatter and the geese foraging, the blade cutting through wood down at the mill, plop of the fishermer’s line. Smell snow off the mountains, wood dust. No others animals, no other people within sight.

No threats, so why do I feel so strange?

Because there ain’t no threats! No fights, no one barkin’ at me or kicking. Feel… relaxed for the first time since…
Bang my head against the tree, let out laughter – hurts, but feels good, too.

Cold, aching, filthy, so close to dyin’ if I ain’t careful, but one thing’s so perfectly clear:

I’m free.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

I liked that. We really get a good glimpse inside of her mind in that one.
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by Hrolf Alfblod »

Ok, I know I promised this for last Friday, but hey, at least it's done. In this one, I try to show more of the fact that Hrolf has magic happen spontaneously. He will rarely try to use his magic on purpose, but sometimes it justs happens. I hope you all enjoy.


The Drunken Legend
Spoiler:
The day that greeted Hrolf, as he was led out of the Bee and Barb, was gray. All had been sunny and bright when he’d entered, but now the sky over Riften was blanketed with clouds. It was if the heavens had decided to match his mood.

He had hoped, being the thane, that the guardsmen would lead him around the marketplace, but it seemed that would not be the case. No, for his deed, they would publically shame him, and lead him through it so that all present could see. A fitting treatment he supposed. After all, he had possibly killed someone.

As he was being led by the market stalls, Hrolf kept his head bowed. To the onlookers, it appeared that he had his head hung in shame. In reality, he was studying his bindings. He figured he could burst free, grab a weapon from one of his escorts, and fight through the guards as he fled the city.

There was a part of the elf that just wouldn’t let him do that however. That part of him that was a law abiding citizen, that was always the hero, that was proud of his country and would fight for its freedom, that fell in love and caused him nothing but pain, that part of him that he wished would just die. So instead he continued to allow himself to be led towards Mistveil Keep, and the jail that resided below it.

Just as they had passed by the old well, an all too familiar roar reverberated off of the city’s walls. A massive shadow passed overhead accompanied with the flapping of enormous wings which shook the ground with each downward stroke. Pandemonium broke out, and citizens shrieked in terror as they began running for their lives. On this day, they would all witness a myth in the flesh.

Landing heavily atop the inn, the dragon called out with another frightening roar as it took in the scene below it. The creature relished in the chaos it was causing. There seemed to be a lot of armed men about, however. No matter, these foolish mortals, with their puny weapons, were no match for such an impressive being.

His escort of guardsmen no longer paying attention to him, Hrolf suddenly found himself on the ground. He hadn’t realized that he had gotten so drunk. The elf attempted to regain his footing, but kept falling back to his knees. He needed to be able to move. That dragon would attack at any moment and then he’d be in a real bind.

Everyone still outdoors looked up as one, when they heard those great lungs draw in a breath. It was released with icy words, and winter’s fury began its descent. On his knees, Hrolf instinctively raised his arms to shield himself, as if he would be able to ward off the dragon’s attack with his palms.

To his surprise, he seemed to do just that. A shimmering force momentarily radiated from his hands just long enough to shelter him from harm. In his inebriation, he would have just thought he was seeing things, if not for the guards around him that had been frozen stiff.

Angry that one of its intended victims escaped his deadly voice, the dragon roared in frustration and took to the air again. Those sentries that yet lived began feeding arrows to their bows, desperately trying to score a fatal blow to this mythical being that had decimated their comrades. While many managed to hit the beast, most of the arrows just bounced off of its scaled hide. Not a single shot came close to wounding mortally.

The fog of intoxication began to clear from Hrolf’s mind. He was still extremely drunk, but he thought that he’d be able help fight of the dragon at least. He grabbed for a sword off of a dead guard’s belt, and had it shatter into pieces as he pulled it loose. The intense cold of the monster’s breath had apparently turned the steel quite brittle. He found himself left holding a hilt with but the merest fragment of a blade remaining. There would be no slaying the creature with it, but he’d be able to cut his bounds at least.

The mighty dovah, as it was called in dragon’s tongue, circled a few times overhead, harassing those below with its frosty breath before touching down in the courtyard of Mistveil Keep. All guardsmen present remained back, none of them too eager to fight the behemoth up close. Laughter that sounded like boulders being ground together escaped from the beast before it roared in challenge.

Desperately wishing that he had a weapon, Hrolf charged towards the fiend with a roar of his own. He would fight with his fists if he had to. He was the Dragonborn, after all, and he would protect the land that he loved, even if he truly just wished he were dead himself.

With each step closer, he kept repeating in his head that he needed a weapon. Just as he was a few steps from crashing into the dragon, a nasty looking battle-axe appeared before him, shimmering with a ghastly light. Not thinking of how it was possible, he grabbed the axe and swung it with all of his might.

The powerful attack connected, but because he was stumbling drunk it was only a glancing blow. It served a purpose however, as it caused two things to happen. The first, it had hurt the monster and made it realize that it wasn’t invincible, and the second, his attack had rallied the remaining guardsmen causing them to rush in as well.

Now completely surrounded, the dragon wished to take to the sky again, but didn’t want to risk having the delicate membrane of his wings being damaged. Instead, it grew mean, and used tooth, nail, and tail. Seeing that it could be harmed kept the Riften guard from fleeing, and the beast took a lot of punishment.

Furious, it lunged forward with its jaws wide towards the mortal who had first hurt it with a summoned weapon. The elf managed to slip the attack, somehow, but the nord behind him wasn’t so lucky. The guard screamed helplessly from inside the dragon’s maw, dropping his sword and shield. Hrolf chopped down upon his massive foe’s exposed neck, trying to save the man from being eaten. The shimmering axe bit deep, and it caused the dragon to rear back in pain. The sentry in its mouth was released, but he was already dead.

Hrolf’s weapon vanished from his grasp. Instead of wasting time to wonder how a weapon appears out of thin air, and then vanishes again, he stooped down and retrieved the fallen’s blade and shield. He may not be good with a sword, but it was better than his fist.

As he stood back up, the elf found that the world was now spinning, and that a second dragon had appeared right beside the first. He shook his head to try to clear it and found that there was only one dragon again. The world, however, was still spinning.

The fiendish creature again rushed its massive head at him. He only had time to get his borrowed shield up this time before the blow landed. The dragon now found that he had a shield lodged in its mouth, with a drunken elf attached to it. Reacting to the situation, before he found himself tossed through the air, Hrolf stabbed underneath the monster’s chin, tearing through the soft flesh of the neck, narrowly missing his own arm, and piercing the beast’s brain.

The dragon’s flesh burst into flame, burning away as its soul gathered together before flooding into the elf on the ground. Hrolf, however, missed this familiar spectacle as he was passed out. His bodily had finally shut down, and he was enjoying a drunken slumber.


* * * * * * * * * *


Laila Law-Giver stood on her balcony watching as her housecarl directed some of her guard in taking her newest thane to the jail below her keep. The elf beside her seemed just as shocked by what they had witnessed. Hrolf Alfblod, the altmeri Stormcloak, was the legend foretold.

“Anuriel, take two men and have my thane brought to my chambers.”

“My jarl, are you sure?” asked the bosmer, shocked.

“I’m sure that I can hire a new steward if what I just ordered of you isn’t done!” the Jarl of Riften snapped.

“Yes my jarl, it’s just that… what about the attack at the inn?” Anuriel asked, hesitantly. “Vulwulf Snow-Shod is an important man in our city.”

“Snow-Shod’s wife is a priestess. She will make sure that he lives. Besides, you know as well as I do that he had it coming. The way he treats every non-nord, it’s a wonder it hasn’t happened before.” Laila explained. “The Dragonborn does not get tossed into a jail cell to sleep on the hard floor. No, he will sleep in comfort… in my bed.”
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by The SheoDovah »

Excellent story Hrolf. I liked how he managed to kill a dragon despite being drunk and the implied intentions of Jarl Lalia Law Giver.
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SM-Dreamer
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Re: The TES Roleplayer's Thread

Post by SM-Dreamer »

I was trying to get into her head and show you her thought pattern, so I'm glad that you liked it.

As to your story, I really liked it. It's a great story, and like Dovah, I like that Hrolf was fighting the dragon while being terribly inebriated (at least he didn't pass out before he killed it!).
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