Blood on the ice (Closed investigation RP)

In the ice and snow of Winterhold not terribly far away from the hold's capitol was an inn, the Drunken Dragon inn.

Amidst the deep snow and the harsh wind blowing small stinging shards of ice a figure trudged through the knee deep drifts of slush, snow, and ice accompanied by two large armoured husky/wolves faithfully making their way through the drifts beside their master and two large black ravens soaring above.

Thorval Hammer-Hand was enjoying the fine Skyrim weather. He'd of course dealt with immense blizzards and now welcomed the cold and ice and this was a nice break from the harsh wind and hail up in the mountains. He put his hand to his forehead and saw through the buffeting ice an inn up ahead with a sign obscured by the snow and blowing madly with the wind.

Slowly but surely he made his way up to the door and entered with the dogs at his side and the ravens perched under the overhand of the roof sheltering them from the cold wind and elements. Thorvald brushed off the hounds and himself and shook his great beard to remove the snow caking them then surveyed the tavern.

At most of the tables were groups of patrons merrily feasting and laughing with delight toasting one another with raised flagons while at others shadowed in the corners thieves and mercenaries talked in hushed tones. Others sat by the great hearth with crackling red flames or were making rude comments to the serving girls while others requested more songs for the bard to play on his various instruments. Among the staff were the bartender, a tall and burly man with a thick moustache and beard, several serving girls being harassed by some patrons, a few hands cleaning up the messes of the tavern and delivering food and drink, and a shaggy hound lying faithfully at the side of the bar.

The bartender gave Thorvald a warm smile and a nod which the Nord returned before taking a seat at a table near the fire. Fenrir and Ornlu his dogs lay down on either side panting and surveying the tavern as well. Thorvald waved over a serving girl who obviously expected more rude remarks "I'll take a venison steak and a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, roast beef for the dogs. Oh and a tall flagon of honeyed mead" he asked the woman who walked off to the bartender.

Thorvald reclined back in his chair enjoying the fine Skyrim tavern and taking in the scene again.

The door creaked open and a figure entered the inn accompanied by a drift of snow.

((More norse references with dogs nice))

Kaaos walked lightly through the snow he had always had a fondness for skyrim, but the cold wind brought aching to the Dunmer's aging bones. He smiled still as he saw the snow covered and swinging sign of a small inn.

"The Drunken Dragon." He spoke to himself with a smile. "I remember this place it's been some time since I was last here." Kaaos moved forward through the snow with his light steps. As he stepped on to the porch and under the roof he pulled down his cloak.

He was a handsome Dunmer though his age did show when you looked closely. His eyes a deep blood red, and his hair white as snow and long. His skin is dark grey. He wear black leather armor that covered all of his body and tattered and well worn grey cloak. As the cloak waved a slew of weapons could be picked out at least three daggers and long sword at his side.

Kaaos opened the door and headed straight to bar where he removed the grey scarf from around his neck. As he sat a sash around his waste stood out with the symbol of House Indoril prominently displayed.

Kaaos smiled to the bartender and asked in his calm inviting voice "Do you have any brandy?"

Sylven sat upon a chair In a corner of the tavern watching as a tall Nord entered and after him a fellow Dunmer ''how quaint he thought a member of Indoril'' he thought to himself taking a sip of the mead he had bought minutes ago.

Alator pushed up the door, followed by his friend Amril. He saw Kaaos at once and said "Greetings, its been a while."

Nevarine trudged through the snow of northern Skyrim. The weather here was a hindrance, in contrast to what he had seen only a couple of days ago, on the other side of the border. His hood protected him from the worst of the snow despite this being more than an average snowstorm. The wind was not intense but it chilled Nevarine to the bone. He had originally planned to arrive in Winterhold in a few hours from now, but that thought was now discarded.

Through the opaque snow, Nevarine could scarcely see a light in the distance. It faded before reappearing seconds later, and faded once more. As he moved closer in that direction he could that the light had come from an inn, presumably a door opening and closing. As he arrived at the door he read the sign aloud. "The Drunken Dragon Inn." He proceeded to open the door. The heat was a welcomed contrast to what he had just experienced.

Nevarine was wearing blue and black robes with a black hood. The colours were barely visible until he brushed the snow from them. He was mostly unarmed though it would be hard to miss the ebony longsword and dagger by his side. He took in little notice of his surroundings but it was hard to miss the wolves in the tavern. He walked up to a serving girl and handed her a rather large coin purse, despite only asking for a bottle of mead and venison. Any trained eye would be able to tell that it had been stolen.

Nevarine took a seat in the corner nearest to the fire by himself. Within seconds, the serving girl came with what he had requested. He took back some of the change leaving her with at least one hundred gold. Venison was something he had only tried a few times prior to this, but he had grown to like it. He took a sip of his mead before taking in his surroundings. The symbol of House Indoril on a Dunmer's sash stuck out to him, but he didn't approach the Dunmer for fear of him being some sort of bounty hunter for House Indoril. His age meant that the chances weren't high, but age can be a master of deceit.

((Nevvarine you might wanna change that only yesterday across the border bit I think it would take far more time to go from norther cyrodil all the way to winterhold unless he walked for a straight or ran for a straight 24 hours I mean just to cross the state of texas takes almost two weeks))

Kaaos gave a smile and a nod to Alator it had been some time indeed. He didn't look like he was entirely there. Something was bothering him he had noticed it the further he got north much as it usually was the spirits seemed restless and sometimes even unnatural chills would come, but this was different and he couldn't figure out why.

As he thought a bottle of brandy was handed to him by the kindly looking bartender who wore a jovial smile and rosy cheeks. Obviously a happy and kind man, but no doubt the increase in patronage was helping his mood. Kaaos took the bottle of brandy and drank directly from it took a lot to get him drunk after all the years chasing the bottoms of bottles.

As he put the bottle down and swallowed the rejuvenating elixir he turned to Alator.

"It has been hasn't it. How are you doing youngster?" Kaaos spoke with his usual tone deliberate and calmly.

Kaaos out of the corner of his eye noticed another Dunmer enter he looked for house sigils and markings, but none appeared. He looked for the symbol of Morag Tong or some tell, but none appeared. As he scanned the dunmer he saw the coin purse. He turned a smirk across his face. To himself he thought of his younger years the sight did take him back.

Alator smiled and raised an eyebrow "It has been quite some time since someone called me Young, I seem to recall I am nearly four centuries old... I am faring well, I do love books but sometimes I feel a need for travelling, Daggerfall and the Council is all I could wish for, but sometimes it fells like I am called to the roads by the nature. How about you?" Alator ordered a glass of wine and again turned his attention towards Kaaos.

(is this during eso's time period?)

Kaaos chuckled to himself "Still a bit younger than me my friend. You should keep quiet with your age you know not many will understand nor care to hear a human living so long especially in these parts." Kaaos sighed after finishing speaking so brash was Alator, but it was no surprise he had known him for some time and it seems little would change.

"Glad to hear home and your order are well. As for the call of the road well it never stops calling me." Kaaos finished and then gave a quick glance.

"Who is that with you a new apprentice?" Kaaos finished and took another gulp of brandy.

The lass returned shortly with the plate of food and the tall flagon of drink followed by a young but athletic looking lad with emerald eyes carrying two wooden bowls with the meat for the dogs. Thorvald stacked the appropriate amount of coins on the table and added a small tip before taking the food and drink. The lad tried to kneel down to give the food for the dogs but Fenrir snarled as his hand got close causing Thorvald to chuckle slightly "They're a bit picky about the hand that feeds them, give them here" he said taking the bowls from the lad and setting them down in front of his armoured hounds which happily started gnawing on the roast beef.

He took up his fork and knife cutting up the steak and occasionally letting a piece of cheese fall for the dogs to catch as he noticed the Dunmer arrivals and the other two men the former of which he eyed somewhat suspiciously. He took a long swig from the rich frothy honeyed mead and when he took the flagon from his mouth his beard and moustache had drops of the beverage which he dabbed out with his gauntlet.

His equipment was a set of steel and quicksilver Nordic armour with ancient Nordic carvings all over them and a rams horn ancient Nordic helmet with two war axes and a battle axe of the same material and carvings. He wore mammoth fur beneath his armour to keep warm and a bear and sabercat fur cloak wrapped around him and several ornaments like necklaces with carved ivory and wolf claws and teeth. His frost blue ancient Nordic tattoos reflected some the light from the hearth in the melting ice from the storm outside and his hair is a straw colour.

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((Rofl see the OOC thread for thos details and thanks Maxx ;) ))

The young man with Emerald eyes looked at the patrons Tattoos. He extended his hand "My name is Wilhem Burke. Where did you happen to get those tattoos. I got mine on Solstheim from the Skaals." He showed the tattoos on his neck and shoulders which looked very similar to Thorvald's

Wilhem had beautiful features medium length blonde hair and he wore clothing that while entirely normal seemed to fit him very well. He looked to the bartender. "If you need anything just ask my father his name is Gudlin Burke. This is his place." Wilhem had a soft and pleasant voice it was somewhere in the middle of deep and high resting at the right pitch to make the words very easy to listen to and understand.

((Hope its ok if I named the characters Took))

Thorvald gave the lad a firm and hearty handshake "Aye the Skaal on Solstheim, one of my uncles lives up there and it's tradition in the family, my old man has more than can be counted now" he said chuckling "The name's Thorvald, Thorvald Hammer-Hand."

The door slowly and silently opened letting in a small gust of skyrim's bitter wind. A figure stepped in and approached the bartender placed a bag of coins on the bar and asked "Get me all the ale I can get with that, I need something to numb the impact of this horrible weather!" the bartender chuckled and passed up 3 bottles of ale. The figure walked to an empty seat in the corner of the room, getting stared at by some of the patrons. They weren't accustomed to seeing many beastfolk around Skyrim...

((It's fine man, I suck at making up names lol.))

"I'll keep that in mind lad."