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RolePlay!
updated 8 years, 7 months ago
5 Members
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23
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This is the forum in which you will rp.
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Azalan stalked along the roofs of Windhelm. He was not on a contract, but rather a personal grudge he needed to take care of. The drunk Nord that had made him drop his pie at a tavern. He drew his bow and took a deep breath. Silently, he let the arrow fly, slipping through a small crack in a window, nailing the Nord in the throat. He let out a small maniacal laugh as he watched him fall to the ground in a puddle of blood, and his (who he presumed was his wife) started to panic and ran to get the town guard, screaming and crying. “This is why you don’t fuck with my pie…” he said in a smooth, yet gruesome voice.
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(lol XD)
*Dendrite walked through wind helm with her hood up and her hands jammed in her pockets, she scoped the area trying to find work. If she couldn’t then she’d resort to wood chopping, Roro padded right behind her*
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Dar’tesh grins from a second story window of Windhelm’s manor district, watching as guards and civilians run towards the sound of a screaming woman. Silently he pried the window open and crept out, easing the window closed before clambering down to the street, a small sack of valuables tied to his belt.
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Stretching her legs, skali clambered off the coach as it rolled to a halt outside windhelm. Shivering slightly, she headed inside with haste, seeking a tavern.
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Azalan saw the Kahjiit sneak away from his casing. “Seems like I’ve helped more then myself.” He said and sheathed his bow. He slowly stood up in the cold night wind. He pulled the mask of his cowl up, covering his face. Azalan made a sharp turn and started a silent sprint across the roof tops.
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*Dendrite sighed, she had not found any work today, She made here way to the local wood choping station. Roro panted and whine, Dendrite stopped and rummaged through her pack before producing a meat chunk. She held it out to Roro which he ate happily, When her hand was empty she smoothed the hair on Roro’s head. It was cold slightly, she decided after thirty minutes of chopping she’d turn into the tavern so Roro wouldnt get a cold or freaze over*
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*entering the tavern, skali paid for a room for the night, then inquired about work. It was the usual deal. Monsters and bandits. Hissing slightly, she ordered a meal and a drink and headed to a corner table*
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*Dendrite’s breath came in huffs as she struck the tree stump, once she was very tiered she collected her wood and headed to the tavern. She entered the tavern quietly before going over to the bar keep and tried to sell the wood to him/her (i forgot the bar keeps gender in wind helm XD) She sold most of it but he wouldn’t take all of her wood. When that was done she sat at the nearest table to the fire, she recooked some venison before tearing off a piece and giving it to Roro. She sat at the table and took out some smoked salmon and started eating that.
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He blew into Windhelm as he did any other town. It didn’t matter that only a month ago he swore to never travel this far north again, lest the cold finally take him. There was no work in the warmer south, none that he was willing to touch. Perhaps this god-forsaken glacier might prove more bountiful. That was his only hope. But by Ruptga, did he hate that city. Nords were known for their nationalistic pride, sure, but as a Redguard, Baqi avoided most of the flack thrown the way of other races, mostly elves and the beasts. Yet it seemed that Windhelm couldn’t help but hold a special degree of resentment for anyone without ice in their blood. It was the only hold where people would cast their eyes down on him. He’d even heard a guard once mutter to his comrade about “Redguard mercenaries” coming in from the border. What an assumption. Sure, it was /true/ in his case, but that was beside the point. He could have been anything: a writer, a scholar, hell it was a port town! He would more likely be a sailor! Hadn’t those people heard of the Iliac bay? But no, the /Redguard/ had to be a mercenary.
Sure, it wasn’t the violent hatred that the city would afford the Dunmer or Altmer, but it was enough to set him in a foul mood as he breached the walls to town. Nonetheless, he marched to Candlehearth, the main tavern, and had himself a seat. He was already fed up with the cold and looking for a warm fire and spirits to warm his gut. He sat not away from everyone, but more among them, scanning the crowd for a kinder sort to take his mind off the bitter nature of the city.
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*Dendrite was chewing on a leek now for some reason, she just wanted to chew on something. a old half full bottle of mead was in front of her, She was saving money alright. She would live of the things she caught or got from helping people out with daily labor and the accessional bandit clean out.
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A quick visit to a trusted fence and Dar’Tesh had replaced his loot for gold. He moved through the shadows as a habit, mostly avoiding the ire of the local nords, and made his way to the tavern, slipping inside and ordering mead.
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Azalan hoped down into an alleyway, out of site of anybody’s gaze. Quickly he took of his boots, cowl, and gloves and put them into his knapsack. He put on a pair of loose clothes to cover his armor and a pair of leather boots. He hurried out of the alleyway and fixed his hair into a ponytail. Azalan walked to the front of the local tavern and went in. As he went in few of the people looked at him and grunted, but returned to their solemn drinking. He sat down at the bar and ordered an apple pie.
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Baqi let his dark eyes scan the crowd. They did their part, lingering on a few fair faces. He looked over a nord woman fairly thoroughly before moving on to another, a Breton. Ah, they were normally sweet things. But the bar was unusually saturated with elf folk and even the beast people. Which was more than a little odd considering the beast races weren’t allowed in such a biased, hateful city.
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*A nord glared at Dendrite noticing her presence, she felt the glare and a few others. Her ear flicked nervously before she slouched a little trying to make herself become less noticeable. Her tail tucked close to her and she put her hand on her lap next to her sword hilt, the other finished off her mead bottle and set it down quietly. Roro was half awake with his belly full of meat*