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[Private RP] Of Debts & Consequences


Started by Samf
Post #59441
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Ebonheart Pact (Dunmer)
[Image: 600px-SR-icon-misc-Torture_Tools.png]

Of Debts & Consequences
1x1 Private Role-Play

Tables of Contents
I. WIP
II.
III.


Comments? Questions? Discussion? Please visit the OOC thread!
OOC Discussion Thread

Disclaimer
  • Welcome to the official RP thread of the collaborative story authored by Samf and Seamus. This is an Ongoing project. Although we are not accepting other player participants, all members of the ESO community are welcome to follow our story along until it’s inevitable conclusion.

    Thank you for taking the time to view our thread and we hope you enjoy your stay!

    ((If you would like to participate in our OOC discussion with your questions, comments, or concerns, please visit this thread here.))


Main Characters
Side Characters
  • N/A

Setting
  • Year: 2E 570
    Month: Sun’s Height
    Town: Undisclosed at this time
    Region: Vvardenfell, Province of Morrowind

[Image: Line%201.png]
[Image: mapmorrenormousmini.jpg]
[Image: Line%202.png]
This post was last modified: April 13th 2013, 01:07 AM by Samf


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Post #59443
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Tirdas, Sun’s Height 9 2E570
-

“Please come by again!”

He wrapped up his few wares in a cloth and walked off. The sun was setting so the crowds were thinning. Milyn hoisted the sack over a shoulder and started back to his flat. The close streets were already dark but his eyes adjusted fine. The Hlaalu kept their areas clean, even for slums.

Rounding a corner he saw a shadow far off dissapear. What the hell he thought. Continuing walking he realized his wares were clinking around. He stopped at a lean-to and set the sack down. I’m just being paranoid he thought. Standing up the realization came that he was utterly alone in the alleys. Picking up his pace, Milyn jogged through the tight areas. Suddenly they seem much closer, more dark. Sweat trickled down his brow.

The street to his flat was just around the corner. Starting to run he noticed a dark form step into his way. “Woah my friend, you gave me a fright!” His voice betraying his nonchalance, he turned around to see another form standing right behind him. He could feel his bowels dropping. The light showed a tall mer in a black leather hood, with dark ashen skin and a long, pointed beard. “Um.. hu.. hello there.” When they said nothing, realization spread over him like in cold wave. Oh Vivic grant me strength. The loan!

He struck his hand out at the face only to have his wrist grabbed and twisted. “Aaahh! What do you want? Do you want gold? I have gold! I have skooma just take it!”

“How ironic you stupid elf. Do you happen to have five thousand drakes.” The dunmer grinned at the look on his face. A hand grabbed his hair from behind and yanked. Last he saw was a brick wall before being knocked out.
This post was last modified: April 13th 2013, 02:50 AM by Seamus


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Post #59662
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A dimly lit room awaited the hired muscle as he stepped through an open archway with an unconscious man slung over his broad shoulder. He’d trekked through the winding tunnels and pathways that led him here, nearly getting lost on several occasions. This room he now stood in was small, rectangular in shape, and built with dark gray stone. Across from him was a reinforced wooden door on sturdy metal hinges that most likely led to the torturer’s chambers, though there was no point in approaching this door since the torturer herself had been waiting for him in the room where he now stood.

There was a woman, clad in black netch leather from head to toe. In the corner of this small room was a square table with only one chair- one that she sat in. A lantern emitted a warm glow from the center of the table, and the woman sat silently with a book in her lap. There was a short hooded mantle over her shoulders, which effectively hid her hair, and she wore a mask to cover her mouth and nose. Only her eyes, brow, and some slivers of skin were visible as she looked over her shoulder to the archway where hollow footsteps had been heard.

“You finally made it.” The woman closed the book and placed it onto the table. “I was certain you’d have gotten lost. Then I would have been responsible for two bodies.” Her voice was calm and articulate- smooth as silk, even as she stood and approached the man. There was nothing in the tone of her voice that might have made her seem intimidating, however, her attire, and the air surrounding her, might have suggested otherwise.

The conscious dunmeri male rolled his shoulder uncomfortably, and raised his chin slightly and addressed her. “Where do you want him?” He motioned with his head to the unconscious alchemist he supported with a hand on his rump.

The woman’s eyes squinted slightly, suggested a smile, or a grin, beneath the mask she adorned. “This way,” came her simple reply, and she steadily walked to the reinforced wooden door, opening it, and ushered the man through. “I’ll have you assist me in getting the irons on his wrists.” She followed in after him and closed the door behind them. This room is hung with hundreds of dusty tapestries. All show signs of wear: moth holes, scorch marks, dark stains, and the damage of years of neglect. They hang on all the walls and hang from the ceiling to brush against the floor, blocking the view of the rest of the room, which may have felt large due to the high ceilings. At one point these tapestries may have been vibrant with color and purpose, but have since deteriorated. Their faded color remains, and the emblem of the Hlaalu house and a few other indistinct patterns might have been made out, though the majority remained unrecognizable.

Quiet steps moved her in front of the thug, and she motioned with her right hand to the stone wall on their left side. Muffled groans and the slight rattle of chains from areas of the chamber concealed by the tapestries might imply that there were other victims. “There. I want him facing the wall. Just hold him steady and I’ll get the irons around him.” She led the man to the wall, moving any hanging tapestries that were in her way. The man did as he was told and unslung the unconscious merchant from his shoulder. He held the man upright and pressed his stomach against the wall so the woman could snap shackles around her new victim’s wrists and ankles. They both took a step back and let the unconscious man slump in his chains, through he would be held up in a standing position from the irons around his wrists. She looked to the brute beside her and waved him off, “You’re done here. Get out and don’t get lost.”

The man wouldn’t complain and removed himself quietly from the room, though he stole a glance on his way out, of a small cage on the far side of the room that looked like there was a person curled into into a ball inside of it. His pace quickened, and he exited the chamber quickly.

Our torturer, on the other hand, had brought a bag, made of thick cloth, over the merchant’s head. She tied it loosely around his neck with sturdy string so he would not be able to shake it loose. “Now.. how should I wake you?” She came up behind him and removed a pair of shearing scissors from her belt. Her hand gripped the hem of the man’s shirt, at his lower back, and cut up the fabric so that his nude back would be exposed to her. “Wakey wakey..” she called quietly and pulled over a stool to sit in. Her back straightened and her arms crossed calmly over her breast as she decided to patiently wait for him to stir on his own. “I’ll give you ten minutes..”
This post was last modified: April 13th 2013, 11:37 PM by Samf


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Post #59665
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He moaned in pain. His head swam, feeling like it was spinning off. Slowly he opened his eyes to see... nothing. Where was he? The streets? He tried to move only to realize he was already up... and chained. Milyn wrenched away from them but it hurt his wrists. He darted forward only to smash into another wall. He stood there for a long moment, trying to swallow the pain. He started shaking, cold and afraid. Slowing his breath he tried to stay calm. Think Milyn, think.

He jingled the manacles on his hands. He thought he heard it echo... ok, a room, theres that. Moving around was futile, the chains were snug on him. He felt the wall in front of him, but it betrayed nothing except its cold stone. Im trapped he told himself trapped and chained and alone.


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Post #59667
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The woman had dipped her head forward and closed her eyes as she waited for the man in front of her to awaken. At the sound of the rattling of chains and disgruntled breathing, those intense red eyes of her cracked open. She would be content with her silent observation of the man for a few more minutes to see where his mind would lead him. Would he begin to panic? Would he shout? Would he scream and beg for an explanation? These questions ran through her head as he tested his restraints and pulled the chains taught.
This post was last modified: May 23rd 2013, 10:20 PM by Samf


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Post #61636
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Milyn brushed his shoes against the floor, getting a feel for where he was. It was hard and flat, meaning a room of some kind. He stayed quiet for a time, trying to listen for anything. Staying his chains he thought he heard a noise, something alive. He leaned as forward as he could, turning his head. There it was again. "Hello? Hey is anybody there? Can you help me?"

Suddenly he heard sobbing. It was muffled, but definitely a girl. "Are you chained up? Are you ok? Please say something!" Just like that there was a sniffle and it ended. Why won't she answer? What's going on?! Then realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. There's other people down here. Trapped and afraid. This is not gonna end well.

"For the love of the nine somebody help me!" He pulled against his chains as hard as he could, but there was no give. Starting to repeatedly yank on them his ankles and wrists hurt. He didn't care, he had to get out. There was a reason he was here. Any idea of the mer in the street being muggers was gone. They were hired muscle, and he was wanted for a purpose.

After minutes of thrashing and pulling in his chains Milyn finally went limp. It hurt just as much, for his knees would not reach the floor. Please... Please I don't want to be here.. He could feel a warm trickle come down his arm from his wrists.


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Every movement, every scream, was gobbled up by a predator's unwavering gaze. She heard him, examined him, studied him. Just to see what kind of state he would be in before she got to work. And work was always the fun part, wasn't it? She lifted her head and licked her lips as the man's movements came to a sudden stop. There, she could almost taste the blood rising to the surface. But no, it wasn't his. More like the blood of those that came before, which had stained nearly every inch of the very floor beneath them at one point or another. Yes, that smell was still strong.

"I am the only one here who can help you." Her voice rang out, hollow and cold as they eyes that bore down upon him. "But I have no interest in doing such." She uncrossed her arms and stood slowly, taking two steps closer to him. "Your faith in the Divines offends our kind..." Silent hands reached for something nearby and the faint slap of leather on leather could be heard. "Last time I cared to check.. mer didn't adopt the religious beliefs of men." Distant eyes stared at the back of the man's covered head as she waited for his reply, should he give it.
This post was last modified: April 28th 2013, 06:14 AM by Samf


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Post #65039
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Milyn perked up at the voice, having a glimmer of hope. Listening, it soon wilted as he realized the situation just went from bad to worse. The snap of leather made him jerk, sending all new new sensations of pain down his limbs.

"I didn't mean it, I swear! It's just an annoying habit my father had, it stuck at an early age. I'm a faithful of the Tribunal, its the truth!" he was scared, but he thought the excuse sounded good.
This post was last modified: May 21st 2013, 02:29 AM by Seamus


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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The woman clicked her tongue at his response and took a few steps backwards, away from him. "I don't care where your faith lies," she spoke firmly. There was a slight pause in her breath, and then the powerful hissing of the object in her hand came rushing through the air, aiming right between his shoulder blades. His exposed back would feel a sharp stinging sensation, similar to that of being cut. There, however, would be no blood. Only pain. The tool she used slipped onto the floor, and she tugged the handle to bring it closer to her side. She breathed calmly and spoke again, "What do you remember before coming here?"

(( I hope this doesn't seem too fetish-y for anyone. That's not my intention. lol
This post was last modified: May 17th 2013, 08:37 PM by Samf


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"Aaahhhh!!" He twisted, yanked, trying anything to stop the pain. It coursed through his back, a throbbing that almost brought tears. Milyn hung there panting, seeing nothing but the red and white of pain clouding his vision. It took a few moments before he realized he was spoken to.

"My stall, I was selling food and trinkets at my stall. When I started home I was attacked. Listen, I've done nothing wrong. Please, just let me go okay? I won't say anything to anybody, I promise!"


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Post #66854
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A small grin spread across her lips as the man resisted her tactics. "You say you have done nothing wrong, but your information is unreliable." Her words were sultry and would have had a soothing aspect to it.. if it wasn't for her incredibly un-soothing presence. "This one.." she pointed the handle of her tool at him, not that he could see it. "This one has done the worst of crimes. He has slighted the ones who have been so generous to him. Perhaps.. some owed money.. might ring a bell or two?"


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Post #66949
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Milyn squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how much he wished, he knew he was in for it. His gut went cold, and he started talking. Whether he was being brave or craven, he couldn't tell.

"Everything was going well, it was! The renovations were complete, the shop looked good, but the shipment... They shipped me rotten product! Rotten! Have you ever made a cure with wilted Nirnroot? How about dried up, rock hard fire salts? I was duped I tell you, I spent the last of that money on garbage! The suppliers vanished, I searched there warehouse but found nothing! I even threatened the person who got me in contact with them. Can you believe that? Little old chubby me, threatening people! I meant well, I would never have slighted the Camonna Tong..."

While saying the name he choked. He was hoping to persuade this supposed female to let him go, but if she was working for them... A little quip when he was a child came to him Better to slap a Daedra, than cross a Camonna Tong.


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Post #67112
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The woman obviously heard his plea. Perhaps she even understood his circumstance. It would be made clear, however, that she would show no mercy to him. With a flick of the wrist, her unforgiving tool came down upon his back once again. It cracked through the air like lightning and it echoed within the indefinite hollowness of the room around them. Though there was no lightning, there would be a similar shock of pain as she precisely aimed right below her previous mark. "Well right there is your problem, you s'wit. What business do you have purchasing nirnroot, of all things, from anyone without seeing it for yourself first? Now that is just lazy... and irresponsible."

The woman certainly sounded displeased, and before he might respond to her, she lashed out at him again. The single leather tail of her tool flicked forward and recoiling just as quickly, aiming for the same exact spot she just stung. She raised her voice with an obvious annoyance, "But I am not here to give you advice on mercantilism!!" Quiet, deliberate steps moved away from him, giving him time to wind down from her last two lashings. He might hear the clinking of metal bits and the hiss of a hot fire. In time, those same steps came toward him, and a soft leather-bound glove placed itself deceptively on his shoulder. "You owe someone powerful something important.."

Whatever object she had gotten was being held near the flesh of his lower back- not touching, just hovering. It would feel warm... very, very warm. And the longer she held it there, it would get hotter... and hotter. Uncomfortably so. "If I were a decent person, I might suggest you deliver your payments.."
This post was last modified: May 24th 2013, 02:07 AM by Samf


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Post #68130
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"But I've.. I've done it before, that I AAAHHH!!!" The pain felt like he was cut by a sword. He almost started wheezing when she hit him again, in the same spot. This time he did start gasping for air, coughing and choking. It had hurt so much he could hardly focus anymore. He though she said something, but couldn't be sure.

As he stood there gasping, he felt something hot near his back. He focused, but couldn't slow down his breathing. Expecting it to be rammed in his skin, he was entreated with some words. "If I were a decent person, I might suggest you deliver your payments.." The voice was soft as silk while being tough as hempen. Another time he would possibly have been aroused by it, but the heat she was pressing toward him was terrifying and making him sweat profusely.
This post was last modified: May 29th 2013, 12:40 AM by Seamus


"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain
"Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do." -Eli Roth
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Post #68289
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The grip on his shoulder became more firm, and her voice tightened just as roughly. She eyed the bag tied around his head, hissing between her teeth over the cloth covering his ear. "I can almost smell the piss that you're about to get all over my floor..." she slid her hand from his shoulder and traced a finger down his side, until her hand came around and roughly clenched his gut. "You really shouldn't let yourself go at your age.. You're still so young, Milyn.." she smiled, pulling him closer to her, and coincidentally right into the hot iron she was holding up to him.

Her hold on his stomach would tighten if he struggled, and she aimed to hold the scalding hot iron against him for several seconds. The hot metal would smoke as his flesh was seared, and heat-induced blisters would begin to form right underneath, leaving the area terribly sensitive and tender. After those seconds were over, she removed the iron from his skin and stepped away from his body, leaving him there to writhe and shake in pain, or however he might respond to it. Either way he would be permanently scarred. She waited a while for him to get over the initial shock before speaking again, "Vehk, for voclur. Trash. Which is what you'll be sifting through if you really want to make sure you don't end up my in my 'care' again."

Aro glanced at the iron and wrinkled her nose at the smell. She then placed it in what would sound like a bucket of water. Her voice returned to its pleasant and sultry tone as she took a seat by her workstation. The sound of opening and closing drawers could be heard. "Your payment is long overdue." The scratching sound of a metal-tipped quill on paper came from her direction. "You have six months to return those loans. If you can't, you'll find yourself back here." She paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"I can promise you that you won't get out of here alive next time. And I do hope we meet again.. Milyn." he might be able to tell that she was smiling as she said those last few words.

(( Vehk is the pronounciation of the Daedric letter 'V'. You can find the exact symbol here.
This post was last modified: May 28th 2013, 06:11 PM by Samf


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