The Resting Mammoth Inn [Open RP]

The Inn was empty. This was normal for the cold out side and the war going on. Being in Cyrodiil was the worst of all places to be at the time. Often fights would break out for when people discussed the war and what side they where for and the town guards would often be called on. The bar keep mostly kept to himself and was secretly storing away money to leave this war forsaken land. But then the door opened and a new patron appeared.

I entered the room and was glad to be out of the rain; my hair was drenched and my body was moist and clothes were drenched; I was lost but glad there was some warmth in the room. The dim light hit my face and the bar keep made eye contact with me as I entered the inn; he mumbled a greeting though I paid little attention. I could tell it had little upkeep; the room felt empty and I was glad. I walked over to a small table and dropped into the chair letting out a small sound of exhaustion.

There before me was a small fire and I looked into it thinking to myself.

It had been sometime but I was finally getting the followers I needed. Though there were not many of my race that came from the family I did; I was high born I did hold this right. The bosmer people weren't always huge on grand royal families but I did have the blood in me. I wondered if I would have stayed where would I be; without magic, that was certain. Though I took after my mother, physically I remember seeing my father tall, yellow skin, and strong; he was a mere blurry vision due to time. He was of the Altmer race which is perhaps the only reason magic became somewhat easy for me. I smiled thinking of my father and then the thought of me as a lady shook me out of my thoughts.

I sat perched away from the fire. I kept an eye on the Bosmer. She was beautiful, even for an elf. My name is Krow. I am here for one thing. Gold. The bar keep has his savings. Unfortunately, he will be parting with it soon. It was nothing personal, it was business. He still couldn't help but watch the elf. Her beauty was distracting. It was could make his job much more difficult.

The fire cracked and I snapped out of it. How long was I thinking. It all seemed a dream and I am sure my exhaustion just added to it. I looked around the room to notice another figure; I paid little attention for I was worried about how long I was out of it. I stood up and walked to the bar and order some honey mead. The barkeep had little to say and I didn't care to speak the the man. I placed my gold on the counter and walked back to the fire. My clothes still needed to dry somewhat.

Morganayn sniffed. She was all soaked and clod from the rain. Why she had to travel in such weathers? All she wanted was a warm bed and a cuddly pillow to hide her face in. But something made her going on. She had an aim. And she wouldn’t rest till her aim was achieved. In the distance Morganayn spotted the warm lights of fire shining through windows. In her heart she sweared and cheered. Coming back to civilization she finally had found a safe haven to rest at, no matter how keen she was to get to her aim. On the hand she hated the distraction and interruption on her journey, she couldn´t help to give in too.

With a gesture she commanded her undead minions to quicken their path. They were skeletons, clad with rags a stripes of rotten flesh. She had found them in a cave, searching for shelter from the storm. On the sight of the corpses she fell to panic, but as soon she raised the dead, she felt comforted and protected by the undead.

She reached the door of the inn. Upon opening the door she felt the warmth of the inside. Joyful the black hooded, small and fragile Breton woman entered, commanding her skeletons to carry her belongings inside.
Upon the protest of the innkeeper, who was probably shocked, atleast not happy about the living dead in his house Morganayn answered in a strict tone:

“These belong to me. You should welcome necromancers wherever you meet them, citizen. Or shall I tell the worm cult that there is a little innkeeper who doesn´t like undead?

I have coins and I want a room. And I would like my minions to be stored in the cellar… I… would be happy if you could… manage to bring them somewhere dry and cold… to keep them fresh… if that´s okay with you…”
Her voice became softer and softer the longer she talked. Low and nearly shy sounding. Morganayn stood humble in her soaked robe and hood, shivering from the cold. Slowly she moved over to the fire, throwing timid looks at the other patrons.

She doffed her dark cloak and revealed a blue robe underneath. Her cheeks were hallow and pale, as her whole skin was contrasting with her black hair. Scars in her face were hidden with purple warpaint. She threw her cloak over an empty chair to let him get dry by the fire´s warmth and sat on another chair.

Zar'Karri sat in the corner still cold from outside. He hadn't taken notice to anyone entering till the necromancer entered. She was interesting. He never saw someone take so kindly to the dead. He began watching the bosmer. She was indeed beautiful, but he had his eye's on a different prize. Gold and anything that can make him rich. He could tell another had his eye's on the real prize to. This would be the first time Zar will have to compete with another. Luckily for him Krow was interested in the bosmer too. This may be an easier heist then thought. But then again there are those undead who will be stored in the cellar which is where he suspects the riches are stored. He must be quick but not so much where he'd be notice. So the kajiit settled back and began to devise a plan.

Krow eyed the Khajiit curiously. 'Who knows what he is here for he thought.' The necromancer added a twist to the equation. An unexpected variable that could help or ruin a job. 'Did the necromancer say worm cult?' He thought. 'We have a common ally then.' His one uncovered eye scanned over the room. A diversion was going to be needed if he ever hoped to make to the cellar. But how? There wasn't much to work with but it would have to do. But The Bosmer was beautiful it was as if she were a vampire seductress or something.

Dar'Rak stood, leaning up against the wall. Everyone had been looking at the Bosmer and the Breton. Dar'Rak was not attracted to them, as he was a Khajiit, and he stood up properly. He walked over to the bar, and sat down. "Water, please." He simply asked the barkeep, holding a small bag of coins in his hand. "Some bread, too."

Morganayn took a shy glance at the other people in the inn. The Inn keeper was busy with showing her skeletons the way down stairs… after he served the Khajiit Food and water. The man pushed the undead with a stick into the right direction, avoiding to touch them. Some other patrons were at the inn, a Bosmer and a Nord, beside herself and the Khajiit.

Adventurers. Obviously. Their presence in this inn made her feel uneasy. On the one hand adventurers and necromancer, witches and warlocks alike were natural enemies. On the other hand these man and woman showed so much self assurance and strength… some time ago, she couldn´t really remember, she used to be self assured and strong… what had happened? She tried to remember, but what she remembered make her shiver. The terror could be seen on her face. She slighty touched the three large scars in her face, resembling a large bird claw under her left eye.

Morganayn looked at the Bosmer, and her vision hardened. Some harsh part in her mind was taught to never show weakness. Instead she looked away and waited for the inn keeper to return. She wanted to eat something. Hopefully they had goat milk in here.

Krow watched as the bar keep left. 'Well, two Khajiit's, a bosmer, a Nord and necromancer... It sounds like the start to a bad joke.' He thought to himself. He wondered what else he could find out about these folks if he looked with his other eye. 'No that's the secret weapon weapon.' He reminded himself. Although rather unaware, Krow had begun to spin his dagger in his hand. It was a nervous habit of his. He looked at the necromancer's face and was taken a back when he saw the scars under the war paint. He thought of his scar that was hidden his bandana that also covered his left eye. Making brief eye contact with her, Krow nodded letting her she had a friend.

The Nord threw a look at her. Quickly she turned away blushing. Morganayn didn´t know why she caught glances with her pale and hallow face. And the scars. With envy she looked at the untouched Bosmer face, remembering her own scars with bitterness.

"And? What brings such a beauty like you here in this land? Don´t you miss your trees, little wood elf? I´m pretty sure your Jephre is missing you!"

But as soon she had spoken the words, she felt sorry for it, being taken aback by her own sarcasm.

"I... I´m... sorry. I... didn´t want... to..."

She looked down quickly and fell to silence.

Krow chuckled at the necromancers comment. He took down his hood revealing his headband. It was made of black cloth with three steal plates woven into the front. The band sat at angle covering his left eye. On the middle plate was a skull engraving that looked like the one on the Necromancer's amulet. His black hair stuck up in the front and off to one side. A black scarf covered the bottom half of his face. The only thing one could really see was his right eye. Green and friendly looking it almost glowed in low light. He looked at the Bosmer for her response and then back to Morganayn.

Dar'Rak looked at the necromancer. "We got a funny one here, hmmm?" Dar'Rak said menacingly. He hated the undead and especially despised necromancers. This one was just making it harder for him to contain himself.

Krow glared at the Khajiit. 'Damn Cat. I will make a pretty penny from your pelt' he thought to himself. As he did so he felt his scar burn with anger. Looking down he noticed that he was gripping his dagger rather tightly.

Dar'Rak looked at Krow. "This one is angry, no? Best not let your temper get the best of you, for you may wake up one day with a slit throat and all belongings gone."