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Dwemer Ruin RP (open)


Started by Grape Drank
Post #176222
Member

120
Faction & Race:
Aldmeri Dominion
Khajiit
This RP is going to be open to anyone who wishes to join. You can read the discussion post to get an idea of the background and how your character might fit in. Link

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In the 575th year of the Second Era, fate has lead a small Khajiit caravan to Winterhold in the province of Skyrim. In this era, Winterhold was a city of prosperity, in spite of its isolated location and extreme climate. There was much profit involved for the traders who made the journey. The city was quite large and home to the great College of Winterhold, where many scholars and mages met to further their research and practices. It was a good place for those looking for adventure, as the College had many jobs available for those willing to risk their lives in the harsh territory of Winterhold. There was always a book or two to collect from some nearby ruin.

The Khajiit caravans were always allowed into the city, somewhat unique for the province. Winterhold was a harsh climate and the Nords who lived there wouldn’t see the traders left out in the cold. As the caravan safely entered the city and set up near the trading market, one of their members made his way to the largest tavern in town. Do’Shanji was involved with the defense of the caravan, he did not care to participate in the mundane operations of business. The caravan usually was in one city long enough for Do’Shanji to find a job or two to do between routes, especially with Winterhold as it was so far out.

The large Khajiit walked up to the Frozen Hearth, letting out a deep laugh. ‘The Frozen Hearth indeed’ he thought to himself as the cold winds whipped around the city. He walked into the building, looking for a drink, and an adventure too.


Sugar + Water + Purple

Do'Shanji - Khajiit warrior
Roac Bellecot - Redguard farmer
Jaree-Tah - Argonian agent
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The following 1 user likes Grape Drank's post:
Roflwaffleauthoritah
Post #176235
Member

83
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact
Argonian
The cold northern winds pierced Edward's thick fur coat and sent poignards of ice into his flesh as he stumbled through the thick snow, his gloved hands raised to cover his face. The Breton wasn't used to the harsh climate of Skyrim, at least not the climate of Winterhold. How have the Nords survived for this long up here? he thought to himself, jealous of the Nords' ability to ignore the cold, before he finally found the road to the city. While it was still covered with a thick white blanket of snow, it wasn't as thick as on the rest of the land. Clearly the road had been recently used. Edward studied the winding white road, stopping his eyes at the tracks in the snow. A carriage or caravan had been through here, a comforting sign to the lost Breton that he was indeed on the right path.

After what seemed like an eternity, Edward finally caught sight of the bustling northern city through the white haze of snow and breathed a visible sigh of relief. Edward strode through the snow covered road and passed into this prosperous city. Even in this weather people were out going about their daily lives damn Nord's really are resilient. he thought to himself or simply too ignorant to hide inside he quipped with self amusmant. Naturally, after a hard day of travelling through this less than forgiving environment, Edward made his way to the local tavern for some well deserved and quite frankly needed drink. And to rest of course.

Like an excitable child, the Breton sauntered up to the 'Frozen Hearth' with a wide grin on his face and thrust the doors open to be met with a wave of heat. This establishment's hearth was anything but frozen, much to Edward's delight, and he soon found himself taking off his fur coat after a minute or two by the fire. He looked around the room and saw the tavern's many patrons drinking, revelling and having a good time. He had come to the right place. As he strolled up to the bar he spotted a large khajiit, the largest he'd ever seen in fact. No one's going to be messing with him anytime soon. he concluded before setting some gold pieces at the bar and ordering.
"A bottle of your strongest ale, if you would. I need to get pissed tonight!" He announced with glee. Edward quickly received the bottle and moved off to find a seat, although the bottle wasn't exactly full by the time he did.


Death to Queen Ayrenn!
Down with the covenant!
Glory to the pact!

Xhuvara - Argonian guerrilla fighter and leader of the shadow fangs

Azhir - Redguard knight dedicated to the art of war
Like Reply
Post #176237
Member

120
Faction & Race:
Aldmeri Dominion
Khajiit
Do'Shanji was enjoying himself in the comforting warmth of the tavern, a stark contrast to the outside conditions. The Khajiit had already downed a few drinks by the time Edward stepped in from the cold. Guarding a Khajiit caravan was not an occupation that lead to much free time, so Do'Shanji knew how to enjoy what time he did get. In the back of his mind, he knew he would have to find some work to keep him out of trouble and earn some coin while the caravan was setting up shop in Winterhold. However tonight he would not let that deter him from enjoying himself.

A bottle of your strongest ale, if you would. I need to get pissed tonight!

The words were like music to Do'Shanji's ears, he looked over at the Breton with admiration and curiosity. The man was clearly of some experience in combat judging by his armor and the fine blade he carried, someone Do'Shanji could relate to. He also looked quite strong for a Breton, again something Do'Shanji could relate to.

"Make that two" Do'Shanji said, and ale in hand, followed Edward to a nearby table. "What brings a Breton to the frozen wasteland of Winterhold?" He asked, a bit loudly, drawing the ire of some of the more...sensitive Nords in the tavern, though Do'Shanji didn't pay them much attention.
This post was last modified: April 26th 2015 09:58 PM by Grape Drank


Sugar + Water + Purple

Do'Shanji - Khajiit warrior
Roac Bellecot - Redguard farmer
Jaree-Tah - Argonian agent
Like Reply
Post #176242
Member

83
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact
Argonian
Edward leant back in his chair, an albow atop the table and a bottle at his mouth. He eyed up the large khajiit as he sipped on the sweet ale, he truly was a massive specimen. A man mountain Edward thought or a cat mountain, more like. The living mountain that sat before him had features carved from stone with a defined chiseled face that was almost intimidating, even to Edward who had seen his fair share of intimidating characters. Judging by what he was wearing and by the very fact he was in skyrim, Edward could tell the khajiit was a caravan guard. A good one too, by the looks of him. His looks alone would scare off half the people dumb enough to attack the caravan, and the rest would most likely be easy prey for such a strong cat! the Breton thought to himself.

He laughed heartily when he heard the khajiit's comment, it was all too true. And more than likely to anger some of the inhabitants of the wasteland. At least the intense heat of the fire was enough to forget how much of a terrible place northern skyrim was. "Gold and a good fight..." He started, his blue eyes following the behind of a rather voluptuous bar maid who happened to pas by "and the women are more than alright, let me tell you!" He finished with a wide grin stretching from ear to ear. He took another sip of ale before saying "I don't suppose there's much point asking why a Khajiit such as yourself has wound up here? There's only one reason a khajiit would throw away a life on golden sands for one of weather that freezes your own damned piss!"

He snapped up the bottle and sent the bottom to the sky, downing the rest of the sweet ale before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and saying "The alcohol more than makes up for it." The breton thrust that very hand towards the khajiit "The name's Edward, pleased to meet you!" His somewhat childish grin remained well and truly plastered on his face.


Death to Queen Ayrenn!
Down with the covenant!
Glory to the pact!

Xhuvara - Argonian guerrilla fighter and leader of the shadow fangs

Azhir - Redguard knight dedicated to the art of war
Like Reply
Post #176251
Member

120
Faction & Race:
Aldmeri Dominion
Khajiit
Do'Shanji frowned slightly and displayed a look of regret at the mention of Elsweyr. The warrior fled his homeland, joining with a Khajiit caravan to escape the Knahaten Plague that ravaged his native land. He missed the warm sands dearly and had always vowed to return there, but the risk of the plague was too great to risk returning. Do'Shanji quickly took a large gulp of the fine ale to forget about the thoughts.

Mentally shaking off his homesickness, the large Khajiit took the Breton's hand in a firm grasp and shook it "Do'Shanji is what most call this one. It is good to meet another who values adventure." He responded to Edward.

Do'Shanji had heard rumors of a Dwemer ruin when he first arrived in Winterhold. The Khajiit had planned to ask around to see if there was interest in such a place among the mages at the college. The college certainly had a good deal of wealth and Do'Shanji was sure they would offer a handsome pay for any valuable Dwemer artifacts. Do'Shanji wanted to keep his eyes open for potential allies, exploring a Dwemer ruin was not something to do on your own and it seemed that this Edward character would fit the bill.

He looked around the tavern, which mainly consisted of drunken Nords enjoying their ale. They two received some stares, but that was to be expected considering the curiosity of a Breton and a Khajiit sharing a drink in Winterhold. Do'Shanji lowered his voice and talked to Edward "If you're really looking for a fight and some coin, this one might be able to help. We'll talk about it when there are not so many prying eyes and ears around." He said looking around again then said in a normal tone "For now let's enjoy some more of that alcohol that the Nords are so famous for" Do'Shanji let out a loud laugh and got up to have his mug filled at the bar.


Sugar + Water + Purple

Do'Shanji - Khajiit warrior
Roac Bellecot - Redguard farmer
Jaree-Tah - Argonian agent
Like Reply
Post #178214
Member

0
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact
Argonian
A hooded figure, clothed in black and red robes, stood in the corner of the tavern. He seemed to be waiting for someone. He observed the Khajiit and Breton's conversation of the Dwemer ruin near Winterhold, and was intrigued to follow them, but stayed his ground, as he was on an assignment. When he had acquired his target, a Nordic man with an axe strapped on his back, he moved toward him and offered him a drink. A pale-white tail stuck out from his robes, as well as a pale scarred face and a blinded left eye. The Argonian, making sure his target was unaware of the danger he faced, lead him to a room in the back. A few moments later, only the Argonian came out of the room, wiping his hands and carrying a strange blade covered in blood. "Another contract fulfilled." he thought to himself as he went back to his position in the corner. He placed the blade in its sheathe, and leaned against the wall, as if his work was not done. He continued to listen in to the conversation of the newcomers, but said nothing.
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Post #178230
Member

0
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact
Nord
Yvara Frostfyre sat alone at the Frozen Hearth. Originally from Windhelm, she had some magical abilities and was determined to learn from the best at the College of Winterhold. She had all the curiosity and naivety of youth and she hoped to find adventure away from the only place she’d known and called home. Instead, she’d only found disappointment and a whole new, if not more, restrictive environment. She had managed to (barely) get accepted into the college, but unlike her peers, she didn’t possess the affinity for magic that they did. It didn’t come as naturally for her as it did them and although she studied hard, she still struggled to hone her skills.

Technically, students weren’t permitted to leave the college with the exception of instructor-led excursions, but every now and then, she’d sneak away to the Frozen Hearth, to be comforted by the familiar honey-sweet scent and taste of mead, which was prohibited at the school. Like most nights, she’d brought several books she’d “borrowed” from the college, and poured over them as she drank, glancing up every now and then to observe the festivities of the room. A red and black cloaked figure stood with his arms folded over each other in the corner of the room near her. She had an odd feeling about him, but he seemed more interested in the activity on the other side of the room. When he caught her looking at him, she quickly returned to the book in front of her, ignoring his subtle, but menacing presence.

After failing numerous attempts to get her attention in the past, most of the local drunks had learned to leave her alone. Besides, the rather scantily-clad bar maid often left her unseen in comparison. Tonight she had on a particularly revealing dress that exposed the top of her breasts, sides, and legs. She did just as much flirting as she did serving, and as planned, she received the attention of most everyone in the room; including an odd couple that sat together two tables over. She hadn’t noticed when they’d entered, but she certainly was aware of them now. The cat was a brute of a Khajiit! The largest she’d ever seen; although truth be told, she hadn’t seen too many in her young life. He was clad in armor, as was his companion, a Breton male. Many travelers came through Winterhold and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were mercenaries, soldiers, or part of some caravan guard. Whatever they were doing there, they looked to be in good spirits.
This post was last modified: March 22nd 2017 02:02 AM by SpokaneJoe06
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