charlescrowe

The Nord's vision was getting fuzzy; the wound in his side was letting blood faster than he realized. He had to cut down his opponent now, or he'd never survive the night. He readied his blades, and charged the Breton, feinting right and bringing about his left hand for a fast and heavy strike. The brute blinked, and felt his blow connect; or so it felt. When he opened his eyes, his vision cleared to see the Breton had caught the blade in his bandaged hand; a black liquid seeping from underneath the linen. "Do you fear death?" Raurke whispered in the dead tongue, pulling a frightened confirmation from the Nord. "Your name. Give me your name, and I'll provide some small solace before you go to your ancestors." "Bronwulf. My name is Bronwulf, of Ivarstead." The Nord croaked out, voice raspy and on the verge of death. "Arkay guide you, Bronwulf, and hearken to your absolution at my call." Raurke spoke softly in the dead tongue, plunging his own dagger into the Nord's neck. As Raurke made his way out of the Ring, Duncan waved him over. "What was that last bit you said to him?" the Imperial inquired, apparently having heard the exchange. "Just a prayer for a dying man." Raurke lied. There'd be little rest for the wicked in the following days for such a sin. "What's the old man up to?" Raurke spat, spying Manan consulting the hedonistic Ra'Gergio about something.

i'd say they're one-time versions of spell tomes, or specially enchantent pieces of parchment that add a spell to the player's spell book. traditionally, in non-ES lore, scrolls allow casting of spells, replacing the standard physical spell components like a pinch of fine sand, and alleviate the taxation of the caster's magicka pool. in exchange, these spells are usually weaker, more basic versions unaffected by meta-magics or perks. (with a few exceptions) it can be argued that you can create scrolls with effects similar to how they'd be if the caster were an expert mage, but are much more rare. pardon the use of non-ES lore. am merely trying to fill in some blanks for you.

here's a beautiful one i found yesterday

granted, but dunno if you'll find anything worthwhile

1) kynareth 2) Mara 3) i wanna say Talos 4) Arkay 5) All, except Talos.

eh, when you think about it... Rikke dies a good death. fighting for what she believes. sure, she may not agree with the W/G concordon't, but she swore an oath of loyalty in her beliefs, and her empire. the same can be said of Galmar Stonefist. (who's voice actor i really like. Grandpa Max Tennyson ftw!)

The fact that they were merely collared was comforting to Raurke; they'd be allowed atleast some freedom. He cast a glance around for any of the khajiit that had been in his caravan, but found none, perhaps they were off inside the groto itself, buying, dealing, or using skooma. His thoughts were interrupted by Duncan, and Raurke snapped his attention back to the Imperial. "Hmm?" "I was hoping you could explain what you are." Duncan repeated himself, still eating what appeared to be either beef or venison. "Since we've got a bit of free time to kill." "I suppose we do..." Raurke sighed. "Would you like the long version, or the short?" "I'd like the long version..." Duncan said, a dry smile on his face. "If we make it out of this and back to the Tavern. Until then, I would like to know the company I keep/" Raurke smirked and gave a heartfelt chuckle. "I'm a Breton Spellsword and undead hunter." Raurk'es tone became more serious. "I'm also undead. Somewhere between Lich and Vampire, but neither. Revenant, wretched obsession incarnate." Raurke spat as he uttered that last sentence. Duncan frowned. "I'm not familiar with undead other than Draugr and Vampires... But I suppose that makes sense. I suppose I can trust you; you didn't kill me." Duncan gave Raurke a friendly slap on the back. "We'll cover the details later. A shadow loomed over the two as the burly black-furred Khajiit from their caravan examined them. "You, dustman. Fight well. This one has many septims on you." "Aye, sure. We wouldn't want you running out of coin for skooma, would we?" Raurke spat defiantly. The khajiit balled his fist in anger, pulling it back to strike. The red Khajiit handler stepped in, wielding a long khajiiti blade and snarling in Ta'agra. Whatever he'd said made the burly black khajiit stomp off back towards the grotto entrance.

welcome to TESA! i give permission for the use of my tavern characters in any relevant works, provided i get credit for character design cookie bandito; AWAY!

eh, i play a character that's been around since the oblivion invasion... personally, i feel the "empire" died with martin. my first play through , i didn't do the civil war until about level 25, in which i joined the stormcloaks... it left a bad taste in my mouth after certain documents and paradigms rose to the surface. since then, i've been akin to legate rikke...

the cookie bandito strikes again! welcome to TESA

i approve