Secrets of the Dwemer: A Skyrim RP (open, PM to enter)
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Gender:Male
Age:26
Race:Nord
Equipment: Fur armor, Steel Nordic gauntlets, Steel cuffed boots, Steel sword
Appearance: Hazel eyes, Long brown hair, rough beard, stands 5,7, scar on his right cheek, usually his sword is sheathed on his back.
I thought this was a better idea of what my character looked like
skills:Hulgar is a very capable warrior, his skill with a sword is almost unmatched by any other man,He is also a excellent unarmed fighter capible of dishing out damage with his bare fists if need be. He is also a skilled Black smith and is capable of forging almost everything.
Bio: Hulgar was raised by his dead beat father in Riften. Life for him growing up was not easy, and the Thief's Guild didn't make things much better, especially since his own father was in deep with them. One day he decides he had enough of his father's abuse and runs away. Not before of course saying farewell to his father with a good ol' swing to his jaw in public. After doing this Hulgar's life officially began.
Upon leaving Rifton he paid a horse wagon driver to take him as far as he can away from Rifton. The trip took him all the way to Falkreath, where he lived a couple years. During his stay he made a living working at the Mill and occasionally did a little bounty hunting. He also learned how to forge his own gear and weapons making him a keen black smith. His proudest piece of work was a steel sword he came to call "Death Dealer", with it he killed many bandits and things that intended to cause him harm.
However, as time passed he felt the gnawing need to experience the rest of Skyrim for himself. And so one day he decided to leave Falkreath, at least for a little while. Along the road he met a Argonian traveler who also had a passion for traveling. They bolth would have just kept on going were it not for the bandit ambush. During the fighting both men continuously had each others back and fought side by side. After the whole ordeal was finished the two became good friends and decided to accompany each other on their travels. Hulgar and J'ram, as his name turned out to be, shared many adventures together and as a result their friendship grew. But sadly it was all about to come to a crushing tragic end.
Hulgar was always for the Stormcloaks and their cause, and now he even considered joining them. He didn't expect J'ram would be to fund of coming with him to fight for a land that wasn't his own or that they would even let a Argonian join. But astonishingly J'ram was very supportive of it saying he would never abandon his friend. It was very brave of him to even accompany Hulgar to Windhelm. And it came to pass that the two became soldiers in the Stormcloak army fighting to rid Skyrim of the Empire and the Thalmor. They were inseparable, wherever one went the other fallowed and on the battle field the two fought side by side. They thought their luck would never run out, but luck always has a habit of running out. The camp they happened to be in one day was suddenly attacked by Imperial forces, it was a brutal fight but they managed to fend them off. But before one of the soldiers could die, he picks up his bow and aims it at the closest person which happened to be J'ram. Seeing this, Hulgar tried to push him out of the way but it was too late, the arrow flew and hit J'ram's back.
Before J'ram succumbed to death he gave Hulgar a ring with a flawless sapphire at its core, he said to give it to his mother. And like that J'ram died right in front of him. It was a tragic time for Hulgar, and after a few more months of service decided to resign, though he still supports Ulfric and his cause. A year goes by and the fierce Nord warrior finds himself at the city of Markarth, doing what he always did best. But at the same time looking out for J'ram's family to carry out his last wishes...
Personality: Hulgar can be a bit of a ass at times, but when you get past all that he can be a honorable friend and valuable ally in battle. He tends to take on his problems head on.
Political outlook: Stormcloak, though he supports Ulfric and his cause he does not share his and his fellow Stormcloaks Prejudice for anything not Nord. He believes the Imperials are nothing but puppets to the will of the Thalmor and that they will only lead Skyrim to ruins.
Age:26
Race:Nord
Equipment: Fur armor, Steel Nordic gauntlets, Steel cuffed boots, Steel sword
Appearance: Hazel eyes, Long brown hair, rough beard, stands 5,7, scar on his right cheek, usually his sword is sheathed on his back.
I thought this was a better idea of what my character looked like
skills:Hulgar is a very capable warrior, his skill with a sword is almost unmatched by any other man,He is also a excellent unarmed fighter capible of dishing out damage with his bare fists if need be. He is also a skilled Black smith and is capable of forging almost everything.
Bio: Hulgar was raised by his dead beat father in Riften. Life for him growing up was not easy, and the Thief's Guild didn't make things much better, especially since his own father was in deep with them. One day he decides he had enough of his father's abuse and runs away. Not before of course saying farewell to his father with a good ol' swing to his jaw in public. After doing this Hulgar's life officially began.
Upon leaving Rifton he paid a horse wagon driver to take him as far as he can away from Rifton. The trip took him all the way to Falkreath, where he lived a couple years. During his stay he made a living working at the Mill and occasionally did a little bounty hunting. He also learned how to forge his own gear and weapons making him a keen black smith. His proudest piece of work was a steel sword he came to call "Death Dealer", with it he killed many bandits and things that intended to cause him harm.
However, as time passed he felt the gnawing need to experience the rest of Skyrim for himself. And so one day he decided to leave Falkreath, at least for a little while. Along the road he met a Argonian traveler who also had a passion for traveling. They bolth would have just kept on going were it not for the bandit ambush. During the fighting both men continuously had each others back and fought side by side. After the whole ordeal was finished the two became good friends and decided to accompany each other on their travels. Hulgar and J'ram, as his name turned out to be, shared many adventures together and as a result their friendship grew. But sadly it was all about to come to a crushing tragic end.
Hulgar was always for the Stormcloaks and their cause, and now he even considered joining them. He didn't expect J'ram would be to fund of coming with him to fight for a land that wasn't his own or that they would even let a Argonian join. But astonishingly J'ram was very supportive of it saying he would never abandon his friend. It was very brave of him to even accompany Hulgar to Windhelm. And it came to pass that the two became soldiers in the Stormcloak army fighting to rid Skyrim of the Empire and the Thalmor. They were inseparable, wherever one went the other fallowed and on the battle field the two fought side by side. They thought their luck would never run out, but luck always has a habit of running out. The camp they happened to be in one day was suddenly attacked by Imperial forces, it was a brutal fight but they managed to fend them off. But before one of the soldiers could die, he picks up his bow and aims it at the closest person which happened to be J'ram. Seeing this, Hulgar tried to push him out of the way but it was too late, the arrow flew and hit J'ram's back.
Before J'ram succumbed to death he gave Hulgar a ring with a flawless sapphire at its core, he said to give it to his mother. And like that J'ram died right in front of him. It was a tragic time for Hulgar, and after a few more months of service decided to resign, though he still supports Ulfric and his cause. A year goes by and the fierce Nord warrior finds himself at the city of Markarth, doing what he always did best. But at the same time looking out for J'ram's family to carry out his last wishes...
Personality: Hulgar can be a bit of a ass at times, but when you get past all that he can be a honorable friend and valuable ally in battle. He tends to take on his problems head on.
Political outlook: Stormcloak, though he supports Ulfric and his cause he does not share his and his fellow Stormcloaks Prejudice for anything not Nord. He believes the Imperials are nothing but puppets to the will of the Thalmor and that they will only lead Skyrim to ruins.
Here is my edited sheet, now I begin the process of getting things started if none disagrees.
i'm cool with itClade-170 said:Gender:Male
Age:26
Race:Nord
Equipment: Fur armor, Steel Nordic gauntlets, Steel cuffed boots, Steel sword
Appearance: Hazel eyes, Long brown hair, rough beard, stands 5,7, scar on his right cheek, usually his sword is sheathed on his back.
I thought this was a better idea of what my character looked like
skills:Hulgar is a very capable warrior, his skill with a sword is almost unmatched by any other man,He is also a excellent unarmed fighter capible of dishing out damage with his bare fists if need be. He is also a skilled Black smith and is capable of forging almost everything.
Bio: Hulgar was raised by his dead beat father in Riften. Life for him growing up was not easy, and the Thief's Guild didn't make things much better, especially since his own father was in deep with them. One day he decides he had enough of his father's abuse and runs away. Not before of course saying farewell to his father with a good ol' swing to his jaw in public. After doing this Hulgar's life officially began.
Upon leaving Rifton he paid a horse wagon driver to take him as far as he can away from Rifton. The trip took him all the way to Falkreath, where he lived a couple years. During his stay he made a living working at the Mill and occasionally did a little bounty hunting. He also learned how to forge his own gear and weapons making him a keen black smith. His proudest piece of work was a steel sword he came to call "Death Dealer", with it he killed many bandits and things that intended to cause him harm.
However, as time passed he felt the gnawing need to experience the rest of Skyrim for himself. And so one day he decided to leave Falkreath, at least for a little while. Along the road he met a Argonian traveler who also had a passion for traveling. They bolth would have just kept on going were it not for the bandit ambush. During the fighting both men continuously had each others back and fought side by side. After the whole ordeal was finished the two became good friends and decided to accompany each other on their travels. Hulgar and J'ram, as his name turned out to be, shared many adventures together and as a result their friendship grew. But sadly it was all about to come to a crushing tragic end.
Hulgar was always for the Stormcloaks and their cause, and now he even considered joining them. He didn't expect J'ram would be to fund of coming with him to fight for a land that wasn't his own or that they would even let a Argonian join. But astonishingly J'ram was very supportive of it saying he would never abandon his friend. It was very brave of him to even accompany Hulgar to Windhelm. And it came to pass that the two became soldiers in the Stormcloak army fighting to rid Skyrim of the Empire and the Thalmor. They were inseparable, wherever one went the other fallowed and on the battle field the two fought side by side. They thought their luck would never run out, but luck always has a habit of running out. The camp they happened to be in one day was suddenly attacked by Imperial forces, it was a brutal fight but they managed to fend them off. But before one of the soldiers could die, he picks up his bow and aims it at the closest person which happened to be J'ram. Seeing this, Hulgar tried to push him out of the way but it was too late, the arrow flew and hit J'ram's back.
Before J'ram succumbed to death he gave Hulgar a ring with a flawless sapphire at its core, he said to give it to his mother. And like that J'ram died right in front of him. It was a tragic time for Hulgar, and after a few more months of service decided to resign, though he still supports Ulfric and his cause. A year goes by and the fierce Nord warrior finds himself at the city of Markarth, doing what he always did best. But at the same time looking out for J'ram's family to carry out his last wishes...
Personality: Hulgar can be a bit of a ass at times, but when you get past all that he can be a honorable friend and valuable ally in battle. He tends to take on his problems head on.
Political outlook: Stormcloak, though he supports Ulfric and his cause he does not share his and his fellow Stormcloaks Prejudice for anything not Nord. He believes the Imperials are nothing but puppets to the will of the Thalmor and that they will only lead Skyrim to ruins.
Here is my edited sheet, now I begin the process of getting things started if none disagrees.
[HEADING=1]Start[/HEADING]
The air was cool against my face as it normally is in this land. I was riding on the back of a horse wagon heading to Markarth coming from Whiterun. The trip has lasted all day and I grew weary, though I shouldn't really complain as I have ben in much worse situations in my life. I drew in a long tired breath and kept my attention along the road hoping to see the ancient stone city soon. When finally and with great relief, their appeared my destination. The place was as unlike most places I have seen during my travels. They were right to say the Dwemer were excellent sculptors and builders, as Markarth was a perfect example of their work. As the Wagon neared the steps leading to its gates it came to a halt, and I climb off its back. "Thanks for the ride", I say as I walk away from the driver and head towards the gates.
Markarth was a lively place, surely a man would be capable of finding at least some kind of work here. After wandering a bit I see a sign hanging off the side of a building reading,"The Silver Blood Inn". I open the door and enter, the place was rather large and in its center was a tavern table, behind it was a wide fire place whear people can gather and socialize. Some of the people seemed like its regular patrons, some others seemed to be like me, an outsider. I took a seat along the large tavern and just looked around a bit. Just then a man cleaning a mug approached me and asked, "can I help you sir?". I look back up at the man, he seemed rather elderly and like me tired. "You the Inn keeper?" I ask, the man nodded but before he can say another word a nagging voice called out "KLEPPR!!! why havent you cleaned the cast ironed pots?! their filthy!!".
Kleppr sighed while rolling his eyes, "I told you already Frabbi, Ill get to it after I clean the mugs now please, shut your damned mouth". He looks back to me, " dont mind my wife, she has a habbit of getting on my nerves, anyways, you were saying?". "Got any mead?" Kleppr smiled, "Certainly, hear you go, if theirs anything else I can do for you just let me know" I take the bottle of mead and payed the appropriate amount of coin. I open it and take one long drink, it was sweat and satisfying. Then I pull out a ring from my pocket and study it in my hand, it brought back good and bad memories. "Just another day, eh old pal?" I say quietly with a tear rolling down my cheek.......
*Talos damn this snow note to self attach some winter gear to my armor when I get the chance* I thought as I climbed up the side of Markarth and it wasn't easy I can tell you, the wind and snow was pushing me down and there was ice had to be careful not to slip had to fight against all of it, finally I reached the top and I could see Markarth just 50 feet below me this was going to be tough as I now had to deal with strong wind and louse rocks going downhill now I really had to be careful otherwise i'm gonna fall to my death nearly did a few as well, anyway I got off the mountain and hop on the road to Markarth.
[skip to 1:10 that is just about when John gets on to the road]
keeping my head low so not to attract attention I walk up the stone steps and approach the gates of Markarth, stupidly one of the two guards standing outside steps forward and stops me "halt!, there's a rule that all travelers must hand in-" the guard stops as my head shoots up and I stare at him intensely the guard gulps "g-g-go on t-t-through t-t-t-traveler" he tries to say without looking scared I smirk at him and continue to walk on and through to The Sliver Blood Inn.
entering The Inn I notice the nice, warm-looking fire at the very back of the room approaching the bar I say to the bartender "strongest wake up mead you got here" The bartender turns to me and nods, he grabbing a mug and filling it up before handing it to me "thanks" i say paying for it, the bartender then says "if there's anything else I can do for you just let me know" "sure" i said back as I walk over to the fire place taking my weapons and armor off until i was in just tight clothing with a hood and mask which I take off and pull down, I put my bow, arrows and armor near the fireplace, I leaned my Katana up against my sit I then sit down in a very comfortable armchair with my drink and warm my feet up against the fireplace and sip my mead from time to time.
[this is some idea of what he looks like without hood and mask, cape and armor on]
[skip to 1:10 that is just about when John gets on to the road]
keeping my head low so not to attract attention I walk up the stone steps and approach the gates of Markarth, stupidly one of the two guards standing outside steps forward and stops me "halt!, there's a rule that all travelers must hand in-" the guard stops as my head shoots up and I stare at him intensely the guard gulps "g-g-go on t-t-through t-t-t-traveler" he tries to say without looking scared I smirk at him and continue to walk on and through to The Sliver Blood Inn.
entering The Inn I notice the nice, warm-looking fire at the very back of the room approaching the bar I say to the bartender "strongest wake up mead you got here" The bartender turns to me and nods, he grabbing a mug and filling it up before handing it to me "thanks" i say paying for it, the bartender then says "if there's anything else I can do for you just let me know" "sure" i said back as I walk over to the fire place taking my weapons and armor off until i was in just tight clothing with a hood and mask which I take off and pull down, I put my bow, arrows and armor near the fireplace, I leaned my Katana up against my sit I then sit down in a very comfortable armchair with my drink and warm my feet up against the fireplace and sip my mead from time to time.
[this is some idea of what he looks like without hood and mask, cape and armor on]
"Hmmm..... Huh?" I open an eye slowly, and look around slowly. A rat was being brave and getting too close for my liking. I slowly draw my dagger, as the brown and mangy thing inches ever closely. [sub]"C'mon.... C'mon, breakfast...[/sub] HAH!" I lash out, catching the things legs with a sleepy slash. I grin as I push myself up, sitting cross legged as my prey cries in pain.
"Sorry, little one, but.... Actually, nevermind." I poke my tongue out as I look at the scrawny, pitiful, and most of all dirty thing. I rub the back of my scaly head and raise the dagger. "Well, I feel bad about this. Sorry!" The dagger sinks in and the squeaks stop. I sigh and get up, looking at the sewer that makes my home of the evening.
Markarth is an Imperial city, at least, so one would think they'd at least pretend to welcome my scaly ass around, but I strongly suspected many want to see how much blood an Argonian has. Plus the innkeeper was not very open to ideas of discounts on rooms. Stingy old Nords... So, the sewers made my lovely abode for the evening, though I strongly want to get out of here after a stiff drink and another checking up on the local merc jobs. I'd gotten quite good at them.
I walk out of the place, opening my door to see some dull light. Was it still day? I silently stroll over to the exit, and poke my head out, looking for guards. Seemed early evening to him. Drinking time. I smile as I close the door behind me, pulling up my hood and walking towards the Tavern. Riverside looked about as shit as it ever did, and the sounds of coal mining still filled the air.
I hum loudly to myself, being purposely loud and a bit annoying. I did a quick spin, my head in the air as I bump into a guard. My hand dove into his coin purse, seemed like it was payday for the guards today! I smile as I look to the ground and apologize, walking off quickly. A yell of fury follows as I open the doors to the tavern, and I throw a confused look over my shoulder. I shrug and enter, suppressing my smirk as I look about. I lower my hood again, and walk towards the counter. There was a Nord... crying there.
"Nords cry? Tears? Here I thought it was fire or something." I roll my eyes and look for Kleppr, too busy dealing with his wife and another Nord who apparently didn't know subtlety. Most assassins and thieves he knew kept their weapons a secret, to avoid getting caught, and used less... distinctive looks. He was either new or had quite a bounty. A few other, less distinctive faces loitered around as well.
I look at the crying Nord again. "You got a story, right? Want to pass the time?"
"Sorry, little one, but.... Actually, nevermind." I poke my tongue out as I look at the scrawny, pitiful, and most of all dirty thing. I rub the back of my scaly head and raise the dagger. "Well, I feel bad about this. Sorry!" The dagger sinks in and the squeaks stop. I sigh and get up, looking at the sewer that makes my home of the evening.
Markarth is an Imperial city, at least, so one would think they'd at least pretend to welcome my scaly ass around, but I strongly suspected many want to see how much blood an Argonian has. Plus the innkeeper was not very open to ideas of discounts on rooms. Stingy old Nords... So, the sewers made my lovely abode for the evening, though I strongly want to get out of here after a stiff drink and another checking up on the local merc jobs. I'd gotten quite good at them.
I walk out of the place, opening my door to see some dull light. Was it still day? I silently stroll over to the exit, and poke my head out, looking for guards. Seemed early evening to him. Drinking time. I smile as I close the door behind me, pulling up my hood and walking towards the Tavern. Riverside looked about as shit as it ever did, and the sounds of coal mining still filled the air.
I hum loudly to myself, being purposely loud and a bit annoying. I did a quick spin, my head in the air as I bump into a guard. My hand dove into his coin purse, seemed like it was payday for the guards today! I smile as I look to the ground and apologize, walking off quickly. A yell of fury follows as I open the doors to the tavern, and I throw a confused look over my shoulder. I shrug and enter, suppressing my smirk as I look about. I lower my hood again, and walk towards the counter. There was a Nord... crying there.
"Nords cry? Tears? Here I thought it was fire or something." I roll my eyes and look for Kleppr, too busy dealing with his wife and another Nord who apparently didn't know subtlety. Most assassins and thieves he knew kept their weapons a secret, to avoid getting caught, and used less... distinctive looks. He was either new or had quite a bounty. A few other, less distinctive faces loitered around as well.
I look at the crying Nord again. "You got a story, right? Want to pass the time?"
I look up at the Argonian man who spoke to me, at the same time putting the ring back in my pocket. I shrug and take another drink of my mead, "War can take allot from you friend, I lost the only person I ever really considered family in this cold hard life". Then I kinda gaze off abit as if reflecting on past times...
Finishing my mead I get up out of my sit, strap my Blade sword to my belt and go over the bar again "another one my good man" I say putting the mug on the table just before I hear another Nord a couple of sits down talk about how he lost a loved one "I know the feeling I've seen and heard many of my friends and loved ones die, It's a horrible feeling" I say waiting for my next mug of mead
I avert my attention to the Nord sitting down the row, "yea it sure is, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad in my case If I can just find any of his relatives so I can carry out his last wish". I finish the last of my mead, then I call out for Kleppr.
"Yes?" Kleppr said coming to me, "I dont suppose you have any "work" available...right?". He handed me a piece of paper, "the Jarl's men dropped this bounty letter off not to long ago, something about a Bandit leader held up in a cave to the east". I grab the paper and place it in my pocket,"another mead please" I ask...he nodded and went to fetch me some more mead. I look back to the fellow Nord, "So...you a puppet? or are you a true Nord?"...
"Yes?" Kleppr said coming to me, "I dont suppose you have any "work" available...right?". He handed me a piece of paper, "the Jarl's men dropped this bounty letter off not to long ago, something about a Bandit leader held up in a cave to the east". I grab the paper and place it in my pocket,"another mead please" I ask...he nodded and went to fetch me some more mead. I look back to the fellow Nord, "So...you a puppet? or are you a true Nord?"...
*i wonder if i can get in on that bounty on the bandit leader inthe cave* is what I thought about for a minute, hearing the fellow Nord's question I look around for a little then get up and sit right next to the fellow Nord as if I remember correctly Markarth was still legion territory "A True Nord, Skyrim belongs to us Nords" is what I whisper in close to him still looking around the taven
"How bout you? whats your stance on things if you don't mind me asking"
My inability to gain attention seemed to turn into a curse around this bartender. Or maybe he was just an asshole. Though the Nords seemed to want to talk about politics now that touchy feely times were over.
"Hm? I like Skyrim. So, I'd prefer the people in charge NOT try to throw me back across the border for the texture and color of my skin. But hey, that's just me. I'm rational. Seems rare in these times." I look the two over again, seem mercenary. And Nords.
Most likely of the mind that since they killed the previous owners, it was now there's for some stupid reason, as though land or objects truly belonged to any one person.
My inability to gain attention seemed to turn into a curse around this bartender. Or maybe he was just an asshole. Though the Nords seemed to want to talk about politics now that touchy feely times were over.
"Hm? I like Skyrim. So, I'd prefer the people in charge NOT try to throw me back across the border for the texture and color of my skin. But hey, that's just me. I'm rational. Seems rare in these times." I look the two over again, seem mercenary. And Nords.
Most likely of the mind that since they killed the previous owners, it was now there's for some stupid reason, as though land or objects truly belonged to any one person.
"Hm? I like Skyrim. So, I'd prefer the people in charge NOT try to throw me back across the border for the texture and color of my skin. But hey, that's just me. I'm rational. Seems rare in these times."
I turn my head to the Argonian when he says this "I have to admit when Ulfric forced the Dunmer into the slums, you Argonains into the docks and then said his plans to throw everyone but Nords out of skyrim, I thought it was the stupidest thing he could ever try to do, and I apologize for any Nords saying in public that "they'll throw you back across the border" I say feeling guilty about that
I turn my head to the Argonian when he says this "I have to admit when Ulfric forced the Dunmer into the slums, you Argonains into the docks and then said his plans to throw everyone but Nords out of skyrim, I thought it was the stupidest thing he could ever try to do, and I apologize for any Nords saying in public that "they'll throw you back across the border" I say feeling guilty about that
Hm. Sympathetic Nords. I raise an eyebrow, and remain skeptical. Most Nords don't give a damn about other races, what were the odds that he had run into the two that didn't care.
"If I'm getting this right, you both want Skyrim for the Nords, but also everyone else. I think you misunderstand your cause. Way I see it, Ulfric wants to be high king, and he wants to kick out anybody that isn't a Nord. That's the whole point of the Stormcloaks. You two believe in.... making life difficult for those who pretty much hold the same views as you?"
I shrug, and look between the two again. "Or, I suppose it's a Talos thing with you two? Can't see the difference between the Elves and the Imperials who fight them? It's mostly in the height, ear length, and the whole 'Immensely dislike each other, and are trying very hard to scrounge up forces for the next war'. You people have looked at a map, right? You know Skyrim is the place right in the middle of supply lines? You're helping the Thalmor, and I don't think any of you even see that!" I wave my arms out in a flourish, earning a glare from most the patrons. Most importantly, Kleppr.
"Oh, there you are barkeep. I'll have what the Nords are having. No spit, I'll be watching." The old nord glared as he went to fetch the drinks.
"If I'm getting this right, you both want Skyrim for the Nords, but also everyone else. I think you misunderstand your cause. Way I see it, Ulfric wants to be high king, and he wants to kick out anybody that isn't a Nord. That's the whole point of the Stormcloaks. You two believe in.... making life difficult for those who pretty much hold the same views as you?"
I shrug, and look between the two again. "Or, I suppose it's a Talos thing with you two? Can't see the difference between the Elves and the Imperials who fight them? It's mostly in the height, ear length, and the whole 'Immensely dislike each other, and are trying very hard to scrounge up forces for the next war'. You people have looked at a map, right? You know Skyrim is the place right in the middle of supply lines? You're helping the Thalmor, and I don't think any of you even see that!" I wave my arms out in a flourish, earning a glare from most the patrons. Most importantly, Kleppr.
"Oh, there you are barkeep. I'll have what the Nords are having. No spit, I'll be watching." The old nord glared as he went to fetch the drinks.
I sighed and shook my head, "If you don't believe that I'm not prejudice then fine, I dont have to prove myself to you, I support Ulfric in one thing only, the Imperials and the Thalmor have to go, Im sick and tired of being tolled how to live my life because that coward of an emperor couldn't defend his empire". I put my free hand up and say quieter, "Ok...ok, guess that was the wrong subject to get into, lets start over, Hi I am Hulgar, You?".
"Well what I want is people to acknowledge that Nords are Skyrim's natives, that we won't be push around just because "The Emperor" signed that damned treaty with The Thamlor in which we lost the right to pray to Talos!, I agree with you The Imperial Legion and The Thamlor HAVE TO GO!, our religion to be left alone and Ulfric not be so damn power hungry for the High King Throne." I say taking a sip of my mead.
"I help myself and those who cannot help or stand up for themselves and no one else" he said proudly taking another sip then hearing my Nord friend introduce himself "I'm Brunwulf but most call me John" I say introducing himself
"I help myself and those who cannot help or stand up for themselves and no one else" he said proudly taking another sip then hearing my Nord friend introduce himself "I'm Brunwulf but most call me John" I say introducing himself
Umbra Rimph was a patient fellow. Or at least that's what he reminded himself as he scoured through the notes in front of him. His Candlelight spell floated daintily in front of him, soft enough to not disturb other patrons of the Silver-Blood Inn yet bright enough to see what in Trinimac's name he was reading. The papers sprawled out on the table before him were notes supposedly about an alternate method of powering magic with soul gems, but the two ways the Orc interpreted the notes this far exploded in his face. Magic was a tricky *****.
Needing to take a break from this head-imploding endeavor, the aged Mer leaned back in his chair and took a deep yawn. He refused to stifle his gaping mouth and fumbled for his pipe off to the side. Umbra dumped out the ashes and packed it in again, then he stuck a stick in a nearby lamp to light the cherry. Umbra piled all his notes back up and set them in a satchel. Then he found his way over to Kleppr and threw down a few Septims for a bottle of wine. The old Nord salesman was busy shooting daggers at an Argonian man, so Umbra just lifted a bottle off the table and set the appropriate coinage in its place.
The scholar found an empty seat near the previously mentioned Argonian man and listened intently at the debate between him and the Nords nearby. The conversation wasn't half bad, it was the usual inflamed political banter among the usual suspects, but Umbra didn't want to return to his mind-bending notes so this was as good of a diversion as any. He set his semi-purchased bottle of wine in front of him and uncorked it with a deep pop while setting down his bag of priceless aged knowledge next to it. He began to drink straight from the bottle and after a few swigs watched the conversation between the Nords and Argonian, curious to see where things went from there.
Needing to take a break from this head-imploding endeavor, the aged Mer leaned back in his chair and took a deep yawn. He refused to stifle his gaping mouth and fumbled for his pipe off to the side. Umbra dumped out the ashes and packed it in again, then he stuck a stick in a nearby lamp to light the cherry. Umbra piled all his notes back up and set them in a satchel. Then he found his way over to Kleppr and threw down a few Septims for a bottle of wine. The old Nord salesman was busy shooting daggers at an Argonian man, so Umbra just lifted a bottle off the table and set the appropriate coinage in its place.
The scholar found an empty seat near the previously mentioned Argonian man and listened intently at the debate between him and the Nords nearby. The conversation wasn't half bad, it was the usual inflamed political banter among the usual suspects, but Umbra didn't want to return to his mind-bending notes so this was as good of a diversion as any. He set his semi-purchased bottle of wine in front of him and uncorked it with a deep pop while setting down his bag of priceless aged knowledge next to it. He began to drink straight from the bottle and after a few swigs watched the conversation between the Nords and Argonian, curious to see where things went from there.