ROLEPLAY HQ - until-sovengarde

It was another typical cool autumn evening in Riften. The shops and stalls were getting ready to close down for the day. The blacksmith was finishing up his final horseshoe on the anvil. Workers and fishermen on the docks passed by one another as the evening warehouse shift dragged themselves to work. The guards leaned against the various walls and doors throught the southern Skyrim town, watching for anyone to give them a reason to earn their coin. Beggars made their way to the Ratway with what meager coin they managed to collect that day, ready to sleep, eat, and smoke their skooma, as one does. And in the middle of this town was the Bee and Barb, a tavern and inn with all the amenities one would expect. The evening was when it was busiest, and that night was no exception. The owners of the tavern, an Argonian couple named Keerava and Talen-Jei, served their customers, which consisted mostly of tired and thirsty Nords. The only strange thing that one might not normally see in a tavern was a pile of woodchopping axes, easily a dozen, kept behind the bar. One group of such Nords all sat together, taking up three of the round tables along a wall. They were drinking their Black-Briar mead and loudly chatting about their day. They all, to a one, were sweaty, with bits of sawdust and small wood chippings in their hair and on their clothes. But one man, just as sweaty and wood-touched, sat apart from the others. A large Nord, closer to seven feet tall than six, with fiery red hair and a matching beard, sat alone at the bar, silently sipping his mead. His wide back was turned towards the others in the tavern. It was clear that he was part of that group, yet they seemed content to chat without him, as if his behavior was normal and expected.

@Vava

Traversing through the woods outside of Riften was a dark elf. Her cloak kept tight against her with the hood pulled high over her head, hiding away her pointed ears and dark skin, but also her pale lilac colored eyes and the strange tattoos that adorned her neck and chest. Nalia let out a shaky breath as two male Nord guards passed by on the road. She kept her gaze low, not wanting to draw attention to herself. "Keep your hands to yourself, grey-skin." One of the guards snapped. The other guard spit at the Dunmer woman, but she did not say a word. She was used to this treatment. Unfortunately, the Dunmer were not liked in Skyrim, and that was obvious to anyone who would witness this interaction. However, Riften was clearly not for the rich and powerful, except for the Black Briar family. But those who lived and worked in Riften tended to keep to themselves. Riften was home to the Thieve's Guild after all, so why would the residents care about those that rolled in?

3:32 PM

The Bee and Barb was one of the only taverns that Nalia had been to before, and she needed a place to rest. She had traveled all the way from Windhelm, and she was exhausted. It had been a long journey. She needed time to recover. Sitting down at the bar, she removed her hood just a little bit so that she could speek to the Argonian woman who was meticulously rubbing a stein glass. "Can I get an ale?" "Fine, two gold." The woman said, her raspy voice almost hissing. Nalia pulled out two gold coins and handed them to the woman. She took them and went to pour an ale for the Dunmer. "The fuck are you doing here, grey-skin? Didn't we tell you last time to stay the fuck out of Riften?" A tall burly Nord with a greying blonde beard growled, his breath reeking of stale Black Briar mead. Nalia didn't move. She didn't even look at him. That only angered the Nord man more. "Oiy! I'm fucking talking to you." He snarled, grabbing Nalia's hood and ripping it down. Nalia's eyes widened and she turned, standing quickly. The stool she sat on fell to the ground. The Nord grabbed the Dunmer by the back of the neck, glaring down at her. "Hear me now, you little bitch?" Nalia glared at the man. "Get your hand off of me." The Nord gripped her hand, throwing her onto the floor. "Grey-skins don't belong in Riften, or Skyrim for that matter. Pack yer shit and leave." "Or what?" Nalia hissed. The Nord turned, immediately pulling his ax. "Or else you'll leave in pieces." He spat. Nalia's eyes narrowed and her hands immediately began to spark with crackles of lightning. No one moved... no one said a word... @The Real Santa

The lone man at the bar had not reacted when the dark elf had sat only a few stools down from him. He was lost in his own thoughts, barely perceiving the world around him. But when he heard the familiar but raised voice of one of his employees, he looked over his shoulder to see him accosting a Dunmer woman. His brow furrowed in annoyance, but did nothing at first, waiting to see if this newcomer would solve this dispute without assistance. But when he saw the crackling bolts on her fingertips, he spoke up, his deep baritone cutting through the tense air. "I think you have had enough mead for one night, Bolr. You should call it a night." Though his words were polite, there was the unmistakable tone in his words that this was not a suggestion. Bolr glanced over at him with a sneer. "Are you seriously going to take her side in this, Buliwyf?" he accused. "This... grey-skinned whore instead of a fellow countryman?!" "I said go home, Bolr," Buliwyf reiterated. Bolr tightened his grip on his axe and spat his next words at Buliwyf. "You are getting soft, Buliwyf! No wonder you never had sympathy for the Stormcloaks! You of ALL people should want this disgusting elf out of here, considering that-" "ENOUGH!" Buliwyf was suddenly on his feet, his blue eyes flaring angrily. "If you do not leave her alone, and do not keep that xenophobic nonsense within the walls of your home, you will have to earn your coin elsewhere! I will NOT tolerate that bile in my employees. Now put away your axe and LEAVE!" Bolr looked both shocked and angry at this outburst. He looked back at the dark elf woman, his expression clearly showing that he is blaming her for all of this. Then, with a huff, he storms away and out of the tavern. Buliwyf turned his gaze to the other men and growled, "Anyone else have a problem with her?" Most shook their head, along with a few "No, sir"s. (edited)

10:59 AM

With a deep breath, Buliwyf calmed himself, then walked over toward the elf. Without a word, he leaned down to pick her stool, which he placed back in its proper place. "Come," he says to her. "Sit with me." With a sigh, he sat back down, but not before sliding two coins to Keerava. "A drink for her, in recompense for my employee's behavior," he stated flatly, as if the emotional outburst had drained him. "You and your big fancy words!" one of the other men joked, apparently trying to lighten the mood. "Try reading something other than The Lusty Argonian Maid, and you might learn a few yourself, Sven," Buliwyf shot back, which brought a roar of laughter from the men.

10:59 AM

@Vava

Nalia was prepared to fight. She had no concern with fighting, especially when it came to having to defend herself. This wasn't the first Nord to try to attack her for simply existing. Just as she was about to shove her hands out to strike as the Nord went to raise his hand, another deep voice boomed through the room. Nalia quickly looked over, and her eyes landed on another Nord man, one with deep fiery red hair, and an even deeper beard. Clearly displeased, the first Nord argued back as he was told to stop. Nalia's hands stopped their crackling, though a faint blue glow still simmered in her palms. She wasn't going to lower her guard entirely, not until she knew she was completely safe. Though, she was never completely safe. No one was. The argument became intense and the new Nord suddenly rose up and bellowed. All went dead silent, and finally, the first Nord left the tavern, defeated, but his anger wasn't unknown to Nalia. She climbed to her feet and brushed her hands on her trousers. She took the Nord's opportunity and she went to sit down with the man. A free drink wasn't uncommon for her to receive, but it was usually only from drunken Nords who offered her a way to 'repay' them, and it usually ended in a fight. Keerava came over and handed the woman the mead that she had originally ordered, but now a fresh one. Nalia took the stein and she nodded at the fiery bearded Nord. "Thank you. You didn't have to get involved." @The Real Santa

Buliwyf gave a small, dry chuckle at the Dunmer woman's statement. His blue eyes looked tired and world-weary, but there was a kindness in them, one that seemed contrary to his massive muscular size. "No, I didn't," he admitted, taking a sip of his mead. Sitting the mug back down, he added, "I am sure your would have used that magic of yours to fry Bolr where he stood. And as much he as probably deserved it for that...lapse of judgement, it would have not gone well for you afterwards." Another sip, and then, "A new Dunmer lass comes to Riften, walks into the Bee and Barb, and sends a local Nord to the gods for being an idiot. The guards would get involved, and the Black-Briars would not hesitate to rid their city of a single elf in order to pacify the citizens. Either you escape, never to return to Riften, or you get caught and charged with murder and off you go to the headsman." Another drink from his mug empties it, and he slid the empty vessel to Keerava, who takes it without a word. Looking over at Nalia, he finished with, "So, no, I did not need to stop you. But there has been enough death in my life. I would not add to it over a moron's lack of control." The Nord looked over his shoulder at his men. They had returned to their normal chatter. Good. Turning back to Nalia, he introduced himself. "I am called Buliwfy, son of Tömmer Firebeard. What brings you to Riften? Looking for work?" @Vava

Nalia smirked as he stated that she probably would have fried the man that attacked her, who she learned was named 'Bolr'. "Most likely." She laughed, taking a sip of her mead. "Don't underestimate me. I've handled worse situations than an angry town mob." She had faced hoards of Draugr, and battled large Frostbite Spiders. A hoard of angry people was nothing compared to that. His comment about death peaked her interest. "I can see that. That man, Bolr, seemed to poke at a few nerves regarding the subject." She hadn't missed that comment from Bolr, and it didn't really shock her. Everyone in Skyrim had experienced death of some kind, but it had seemed to really strike this man. He introduced himself and she nodded her head. "I am Nalia. I came here in order to sell a few items to the Pawned Prawn, and also to look into a few things from the Thieves Guild." She said, shrugging. "But I'm always open for work. Coin is coin, in my opinion. What about you? Do you reside here?" @The Real Santa

At the mention of the Thieves'' Guild, Keerava and Talen-Jei glanced at each other nervously. They silently mouthed something to one another. If one could read Argonian lips (such as they are), they might have picked up, "Did you pay the Guild this month? I thought you did!" Buliwyf did not seem to react to the mention of the Guild, outside of a joyless chuckle, more of an acknowledgement that he heard her than any commentary on the elusive organization, and he did not pursue the subject further, and instead chose to answer he questions. "I live alone in the forest to the south of here," he said, the slightest hint of sadness in his voice at the word alone. "If you could not tell from the copious amount of sawdust on my men and I, we are lumberjacks, the same as my father before me. And I asked if you are looking for work because I may have something for you." One of the men was apparently listening, because he piped up and interrupted with a cautious tone, "Are you sure, Buliwyf? You do not know this woman. Especially considering what she just said..." "No, I don't," he admitted, looking back at him over his massive shoulder. "But I can tell she can hold her own in case of trouble, and that is what I need." Turning back to Nalia, he continued, "I am taking a load of lumber up to Windhelm in the morning. There have been rumors of bandits and such along the route to the north, so I would like someone to help protect my horses, cart, and cargo there and back. It is about a three-day journey one way, plus a day in Windhelm, and three days back. If you are interested, I can pay you three hundred gold, half up front, and the other half when we return to Riften. Are you interested?" @Vava (edited)

Nalia didn't hear the two Argonians whispering frnatically to one another, but she didn't care either way. She was already impressed that this man hadn't shuddered visibly at the name of the Thieves Guild. As he explained where he lived, she did pick up on the hint of sorrow that laced his tone. Perhaps he hadn't lived alone originally? She didn't speculate further. Listening to his offer of employment, she only took a second to think on it. She finished the last of her mead and she nodded. "Alright. Deal. I'll help you travel to Windhelm. Would it just be us? Or do I need to protect... other people?" She seemed to almost shrink back a bit as she said this. She didn't want to protect others, especially Nords that chose to insult and even threathen to kill her. But, if he upped his offer in gold, perhaps she could be convinced. She set her empty mug down. "If it's just you and I, then I accept your offer. If there are others, the price has to increase." She wasn't trying to be cruel. She had to make a living. @The Real Santa

Buliwyf smirked as she accepted his offer, though, like before, there was no joy in it. "It will be just the two of us," he explained. "The wagon will be loaded and ready to depart outside the South gate shortly after dawn tomorrow. When the sun crests over the Velothi Mountains, we will leave. Bring whatever supplies you think you will need." The large Nord stood up from his stool, massaging a sore muscle in his shoulder, before turning to the gathered men. "Bjorn, you are in charge while I am gone, as we discussed." One of the men, presumably Bjorn, raised his mug. "I will do you proud, Tömmersson." "Remember to only fell the trees we marked," Buliwyf warned. "The last thing I need is the Temple of Kyne up my ass because we cut down more than they like. Balance of Nature, and all that..." "You got it, boss," Bjorn reiterated. With that settled, he turned back to Nalia. He could not help but wonder if he was making a mistake bringing her along. Their peoples have battled one another since the days of Ysgramor, and the memory of elves were rumored to be long. Even with the High King offering Solstheim to the Dunmer people after the Red Year almost two centuries ago, tensions were high between their peoples. But he needed someone to help him. And there was something about this elven woman, though he could not place it. "You should get to your business," he said to her. "The Pawned Prawn will be closed for the night soon." He intentionally failed to bring up her "other" business. "I will see you at the South gate at dawn with your first half of your payment." Then, turning to Keerava, he held out a large, calloused hand. "I'm headed home, Keerava." The Argonian, in response, picked up one of the woodcutting axes from behind the bar and handed it to him. "Good luck, Buliwyf," she said in her raspy voice. "May the Hist protect you." Without a word, Buliwyf rested the axe on his shoulder, and headed out of the tavern. @Vava

Nalia was pleased to learn that it would just be the two of them. She had no interest in protecting others that wanted to treat her like dirt. "Good." She watched him appoint a man named 'Bjorn' in charge of his business while they were gone. When he confirmed that all would be handled, he turned and told her to handle her business and then meet him in the morning. She nodded and gave him a gentle wave. "See you in the morning." When he departed the tavern, she pulled her hood up and headed to the Pawned Prawn. She knew the Thieves Guild would be open no matter what time she arrived, but the Pawned Prawn had set hours. She paid the shopkeeper, Bersi Honey-Hand, a visit and she showed him several items she wished to sell, gems and pieces of enchanted armor that she wouldn't need. She then went to visit Delvin and Vex down in the Thieves Guild. She handed Delvin and Vex a few items they had asked her to pick up in her travels, and with that, she had completed her errands. She purchased a few lock picks and some extra health and magika potions. She knew that she was going to need them if she had to heal her new employer or his animals. She returned to the Bee and Barb and she purchased a room for the evening. Heading upstairs, she went to her room and shut the door, locking it tight. She removed her cloak but not the rest of her clothing. She wasn't interested in being attacked while naked. She thought of the Nord man that she agreed to work with... She truly hoped she had not made a huge mistake. She drifted to sleep a short while later, and for once, she actually slept through the night. In the morning she woke up and stretched. None of her things had moved, and she checked everything and confirmed it was all there. Satisfied, she grabbed her cloak and she threw it on and headed down and out of the Bee and Barb. She headed for the South gate, and she pushed the doors open. She could see the Nord, so she headed to him, her hood still pulled up. "Good morning." She said, bowing her head to him. "Did you sleep alright?"

4:19 PM

@The Real Santa

The night had been far less peaceful for the Nord lumberjack. His walk home was as uneventful as usual, as was his bath and dinner. It was not until he laid down to sleep that the troubles began. His eyes kept falling on the chair at the foot of his bed, where a dress sat folded, with an amulet of Mara rested atop it. Though he had seen both this and the empty child's bed across the room every night for over two years, that particular night was difficult for him. He had wondered, many times, if he should move on with his life, to stop clinging to the past. He had promised to love her forever, and to be faithful to her always. But she is gone now. Yet, every time he has felt the beginnings of attraction to another woman, it was immediately squashed in his heart along with a feeling of intense guilt, as if the mere thought was an affront to his late wife's memory. But...would she want me to be alone forever? She always wanted me to be happy. But...I just...can't... To add to the confusion that burdened his heart, his mind would, more than once, drift to the Dunmer woman he met that day. And, like always, he would shove those thoughts aside as fast as they would come. Yet, they kept coming. It took hours for his mind to still enough for him to sleep. Then, the rooster's crow told him of the too-soon dawn cresting over the Rift, and he crawled out of bed. There was work to be done. When Nalia found him, he had just finished loading up the lumber with a few members of his crew. The wagon strained under the weight, but held firm. In the back with the lumber were essential supplies, mostly some dried food, filled waterskins, rope, and repair equipment, along with a few spare wagon wheels. His tired blue eyes fell upon Nalia as she approached, and the thoughts of last night flooded back to him. With a grunt, he turned his head and pushed the thoughts away. "Not really," he answered, "I will try again when we reach Shor's Stone by nightfall." (edited)

8:22 AM

The Nord took a bag from his hip, and handed it to Nalia. "The first half of your payment. You can count them on the road. We must get moving if we are to reach Shor's Stone." With that, he lifted himself up into the driver's seat of the wagon, leaving a spot beside him for her to sit. @Vava

Nalia was surprised at the sheer size of the wagon, and also how full it was. "Wow..." She wondered if the wagon would eventually buckle under such tremendous weight, but Buliwyf didn't seem too concerned, so she let it fade from her mind. He stated that they were heading to Shor's Stone, and she nodded. "Alright." She climbed up onto the wagon seat beside him. She took the pouch and placed it in her own bag. "Thank you." She didn't need to count the money. If she had been stiffed, then it was her own fault. But she found the act of counting money in front of someone tacky. She had no intention of being tacky. As they set off, Nalia looked around, taking in the scenery. "Have you been to Shor's Stone before?" She asked, deciding that small talk was going to be the best way to pass the time. It was a cool crisp morning, and a light fog settled along the darkened path. The sunshine was slowly peering over the trees, but not quite yet. Nalia was in the same outfit as the previous evening, but she had been freshly bathed and cleaned, her silvery hair neatly combed, or rather as neatly as it could be without equipment. @The Real Santa

Buliwyf guided the four draft horses pulling his wagon with expertise, occasionally making a sound here or there, which the horses responded to instantly. It was slow going, about the pace a man walks, which explained why it would take three days to reach Windhelm as opposed to a full day and night on fast horseback. Buliwyf also takes in the scenery. The autumn colors were brief but vibrant, especially in the Rift's Gold Forest. The sunlight almost made the golden-yellow leaves of the birch trees glow, which gave the forest its name. The birds had started to sing their morning songs in the soft fog. It was a seemingly perfect early Frostfall day in southern Skyrim. Might as well enjoy the view now, he thought. In a few days, it will be snow as far as we can see. He glanced over at the elf beside him as her question. Small talk, eh? He did not think that elves would partake in such things. What else am I wrong about? "Yes, many times," he answered. "The Rift provides wood and lumber to the eastern part of Skyrim, all the way up to Winterhold, though I have not been to that village in many years. Not many folks there anymore, as you might know, aside from that college of mages. And they do not have much use for good lumber." He noticed himself straying from her question, so with a cough, the red-bearded man pivoted back. "Shor's Stone is a mining village along the road north here. There is no tavern or inn, and the homes are too small to allow us to spend the night indoors. I have a few friends there, but they have no room to house us, even for a night. So, we will make camp in view of the guards for safety from wild spiders, and be on our way at dawn. It is how all travelers and merchants spend the night there." Turning his eyes back to the road, he decided to continue the small talk. It was kind of nice to not be alone for this trip this time. "And what of you, Nalia? From where do you hail?" @Vava

Nalia felt her chest tighten a bit at the town name. "Yes... Winterhold is... an unusual place." She said, not completely in love with the town. Winterhold had been nearly destroyed thanks to the College, but the mages that resided there didn't seem to care about the destruction of the town. "I do not mind making camp. I'm used to sleeping outside." She said, shrugging her shoulders lightly. She was used to be turned away from taverns and inns, especially in Nord heavy towns, though most places allowed her to stay if she presented enough gold. "I have a bed roll and some blankets, and as long as a fire is going, we will survive." She wasn't going to complain about the accommodations. What if a tavern was available but it was too full? This was the same situation. He asked about her and she chuckled softly. "My parents hailed from Morrowind, but then they traveled up to Solstheim... unfortunately, they did not survive there. I was sent to live in Windhelm with my Uncle, but he wasn't able to feed both of us, so when I became of age, I left... I've traveled ever since. I don't really have a location to call my own." She said, her tone light, but also filled with sorrow. "It's a very boring tale." She said, letting out a soft chuckle. "I've visited Shor's Stone a few times. It's a lovely little place. Quiet. It's nice, almost refreshing, as long as you don't try to stay too long." The people of Shor's Stone had no interest in keeping guests for a long period of time, so no one ever visited Shor's Stone for long. @The Real Santa

Buliwyf nodded, glad to hear that this particular elf would not mind sleeping outdoors. Not something he would expect to hear, aside from maybe a Bosmer. Still, one less thing to worry about. He, too, had brought a sleeping bag, but he also brought the materials needed to craft a simple tent, in case of snow or rain. It was too early in the day to tell if that would be needed, but it rarely rained or snowed this time of year when there was fog in the morning. Though he mostly kept his eyes on the horses and road ahead of them, he listened to Nalia's history. The loss of her parents was something he could relate to, of course. "It is a more exciting tale than mine, I assure you," he commented with a dry chuckle. "I also lost my parents, though much later in life. But they await me in Sovengarde, so I try not to mourn them." At the mention of Windhelm, he arched a red eyebrow. "Well, then. At least you will know your way around. It was good of your uncle to take you in. I was already a man when my father died, albeit only just, so my uncle was spared from raising me. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say I was spared being raised by him." He gave his companion a wry grin. "He is...a busy man." Changing the subject, he asks, "Are you going to visit your uncle while we are in Windhelm? We will be there from midday to the next dawn, if we keep our schedule. Plenty of time." @Vava

"That's nice that you are able to hold their memory close. If you can't hold that close, then their lives were ended in vain." She said softly. She had never gotten to meet her parents, or if she did, she didn't remember them. But, their lives did hold meaning. She had been told stories about her parents, so she felt that their memories were kept alive, and since her Uncle was alive, she knew their memories were held by more than just one person. She chuckled a little as he stated that his uncle was a 'busy' man. She understood what that meant, and she chose to not say anything further about it. "I understand. Hopefully your Uncle gets time to rest one day." At the question of if she would visit her uncle, she let out a soft sigh. "I may. If he is even in Windhelm anymore. He never liked it there. His heart was in Morrowind, and when Morrowind became a problem, he wished to live in Raven Rock, though I never understood why. He was a strange man." "But, I would like to visit the White Phial. I would like to see if Quintus has any new ingredients for me to check out." She said, looking around at the sights. The fog was still prominent, but she could see the shine of a beautiful blue sky peeking through. "Do you have any other business you'd like to attend to in Windhelm?" @The Real Santa

Buliwyf gave Nalia a bit of a side-eye at her suggesting that his uncle would rest one day. Pfff, yeah, when he's dead and buried one day, he thought to himself. The only thing that escaped was another wry grin and a soft laugh though his nose. "Well, if your Uncle has moved to Raven Rock, at least you will not have to camp in the harsh north Eastmarch weather," he commented. "Candlehearth Hall has warm rooms and good food. And, before you say it," he added quickly with a knowing look, "I know Windhelm is probably the least accepting of elves of any city in Skyrim, and most Dunmer would not set foot in that place. But they know me there, and technically, you work for me right now as my guard." He gave her another sideways grin. "Let me know if you need a place to stay. I would rather you keep those magic spells for bandits and monsters instead of ignorant or drunk Stormcloak supporters, if you could." As he guided the horses around a bend in the road, he said, "The White Phial? You are into Alchemy, then? You seem to be a woman of many talents. Next, you are going to tell me you can take a cliff racer from the skies at two hundred paces!" He gave a chuckle, but, in the back of his mind, he wondered, if only for a moment, if she really could do that. To answer her question, he gestured at the lumber behind them with a thumb over his shoulder. "Just that, really. A dragon destroyed a good part of the docks, I heard." His voice tightened for the briefest of moments, but it was gone as fast as it came. "So...they need good lumber to repair it. Besides delivering this and getting paid, I have no one to see other than the tavern keep at Candlehearth. I may go see the smith, Oengul War-Anvil, to see if he can give me a better deal on some axe heads than Balimund back in Riften, but nothing else. I...tend to keep to myself most of the time." He fell silent after that, his mirth mostly gone. It was hard to tell if he was done talking or pondering further questions.

10:06 AM

@Vava