[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Volume One]

P’urza peered around Red’s shoulder curiously. “How does one enter such a door? P’urza sees no lock nor handle.”

Red tugged off her gloves, tucking them away in her belt, and rested her bare palm against the warm stone. “Like this.” She felt the rough texture of the daedric carvings against her skin. There was a soft pulse of some sort of power against her fingers and the stone began to move. It irised open in a shower of red dust, revealing a dark tunnel and stairs leading down.

“P’urza did not bring torches for you no-tails.” P’urza gave a hissing laugh. “Khajiit have no need of such things in the dark.” She stepped ahead of Red, tapping her claws on the thief’s shoulder.

Red rolled her eyes and put a hand back to stop Fin before he could pull a torch from one of the saddlebags. “We won’t need them. Daedric ruins are dangerous but each of them is dedicated to one of the princes.” She drew her longknife and gestured P’urza down the stairs. “That means so-called holy fires lighting the place up.”

“Convenient,” Fin muttered, following the women into the ruin. “But hardly comforting.” He was no more than five steps down when the door closed suddenly behind him with a rumble. “It will open again should we decide better of this, yes?”

Red chuckled. “Yes.”

“How many of these have you been in?” Fin asked softly as they followed P’urza’s silent footsteps down into darkness.

“A few.” Red blinked as red fires burst to life in braziers at the bottom of the stairs, outlining the khajiit before she turned out of sight and made her nervous. “P’urza, wait.”

The khahiit slowed, tail twitching, and listened. She cocked her head and tuned out the sound of her two companions. Her sensitive hearing picked out the fall of dust and rock from the curiously tilted walls and ceilings, the scuff of heavy boots on uneven stone. Somewhere more distantly, she could hear the sound of scrabbling claws and the deep, heavy breaths of something sleeping… or waiting. She inhaled deeply through her nose and sneezed lightly at the acrid, burning smell of molten rock lacing the air along with the odors of living things and dead. “Many call this place home,” she whispered when she felt Red and Fin at her back. “P’urza smells them.” She looked back to her companions with a rumble of her own name. “There will be much sweet and shiny in this place for P’urza to borrow.”

Red chuckled at the khajiit’s toothy grin and shook her head. “We stay together. A daedric ruin is a bad pace to split up.” She huffed out a breath and ducked her head. “And be careful what you pick up.” She tugged the shoulder of her leathers and shirt down, turning so the other two could see the tip of a jagged scar on the back. “I plucked the wrong gem from an offering plate in one of these places once.”

“What did that?” Fin asked and glanced behind them nervously.

Red shrugged her leathers back into place. “I don’t actually know. It hit me from behind and I barely escaped.” She waved a hand dismissively. “So, we’ll be very careful of what we actually pick up.” She looked at P’urza and quirked a brow. “I mean it, P’urza. Don’t let your sticky claws get us all in trouble.”

P’urza bared her teeth at the Imperial. “This one has no fear of things that sparkle.”

Fin ran his tongue along his teeth. “Perhaps we could explore the deadly ruin without trying to get ourselves killed messily.” He shrugged at Red’s laugh. “Only a suggestion.”

“This way, short-tails.” P’urza caught Fin’s wrist in a loop of her tail and gave him a tug. “P’urza smells sparklies this way.”

Fin huffed a laugh and uncurled the khajiit’s surprisingly soft tail from his arm as he followed her with Red at his back. “I wasn’t aware they had a smell.” It was not lost on him that he found himself in a likely daedra-infested ruin with a thief in the lead and another at his back. He wondered briefly if he had taken leave of his senses and realized if he had, it had happened the moment they had stepped from the snowy wastes of Solstheim into the stifling warmth of Vvardenfel’s swamps in the blink of an eye.

“Now would be a bad time to go off in your own head, Bosmer,” Red said with a smile when she walked up beside Fin and saw the far-a-way look in his black eyes.

“Just wondering,” Fin replied easily. His ears picked up a sound from further down the tilted corridor they walked at the same moment P’urza stopped ahead of them. “Something ahead,” he whispered.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

Not bad at all! Fiska is like the caretaker. The tavern adopted her. Grond is... well, Grond. Mostly if you write him ever, he's a boisterous Nord with a heart of gold and a love of alchemy and his two dogs. Lol 

Fiska though, I suppose it would be like she doesn't know anymore about the tavern than we do unless it tells her. It's quietly sentient, I suppose is the best way to describe it. Working in the background. She has a connection to it because it's adopted her to its service but even she is still learning.

The only nudge I want to give you about your add is that we're working out of Morrowind/Solstheim for these tales, as opposed to Skyrim. No big though. We can just say the Skyrim door opened long enough to let your characters through before slapping closed behind her. The tavern must have wanted you there.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

We like trouble. Trouble is fun.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

And we're on the road. Short, but got us moving again. With plenty of possibilities for trouble along the way or new faces to join in.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Volume One]

Red ducked her head and tugged her hood down further against the steady drizzle of rain. She felt P’urza give herself a shake behind her and chuckled as water droplets went flying. “You’re going to be a puff ball by the time we reach Balmora if you keep doing that. I offered you a cloak.”

P’urza growled and shifted her grip around Red’s waist, careful to keep her claws in with Savior's swaying gait. “This one does not mind the rain, only that it is so wet.”

Fin chuckled at P’urza’s observation from where he rode alongside them. “How long will it take us to reach Balmora?”

“A half-day’s ride.” Red nudged her hood back and looked over to the wood elf. “Unless we cut through the Foyada Mamaea. We could be there in three, perhaps four hours.” She looked up as the drizzle became a true rainfall and sighed. “We’ll pass Pelagiad on the way. We could stay the night if this gets worse.”

Fin quirked a brow at her. “You want to cut across a lava river?”

Red laughed, letting her hood slip back on her head. “It’s long hardened.” She shrugged. “It does stay uncomfortably warm in the foyadas though.”

“And?” Fin asked, catching the expression that flitted across her face before she could hide it.

“And there’s a daedric ruin not far off from where this trail intersects with it.” Red smiled. “It’s probably empty.”

P’urza caught the top of Red’s hood in her claws and slipped it back over the thief’s head and into her face. “P’urza thinks you are hoping the ruin is not so empty.”

Red snorted a laugh and pushed the khajiit’s hand from her head. “Knock it off. I don’t think…” her voice trailed off as the howling of animals sounded on the air, muffled by the rainfall and the light mist that had sprung up. “Nix hounds,” she said softly. “We’re definitely going through the foyada now. The hounds won’t follow there.”

Fin peered through the mist into the heavy growth of the marshlands. “How many?”

“They travel in packs.” Red nudged Savior right at a crossroads. “There may only be a few.”

“Or thirty.” Fin nodded and followed the painted gelding up a gentle slope. “The foyada it is.”

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

1 hour ago, ladyonthemoon said:

I'm still trying to make something out of it. I read the contributions and I noticed that you were using P'urza who is a main character created by another contributor. We can do that?

Absolutely! As long as your own character is there as well, you're more than welcome to write the characters of other players. That's why we put up the character sheets; for the other players who'll be writing our characters. Makes it much easier for everyone!

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

Nicely done!

Ok, not a lot happened in my add but... well there it is. Anyone want to go play tourist in Balmora? Lol

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Volume One]

Red stared around her in surprise, her eyes wide, letting her pack fall to the floor with a thump. “But this…” Her voice trailed off when a familiar khajiiti female came down the stairs into the taproom. “P’urza?”

P’urza’s muzzle split in a wide grin. She went to the thief and bobbed her head, wrapping her tail around Red’s left wrist in a show of affection. “Thank you for telling P’urza of this place. It is most comfortable.”

“But…” Red shook her head.

“What is it?” Fin asked and rested a hand on Red’s shoulder as she seemed to sway for a moment.

“This is…” Red gently unwrapped P’urza’s tail from her arm and strode across the taproom to another set of doors. She flicked a glance to the orc woman behind the bar and away before she reached the them.

“You’re tracking snow over my floors, you know.” Fiska said in a long-suffering tone.

Red ignored her for the moment and pulled the doors open. The comforting, damp heat of the Bitter Coast salt marshes met her as she stepped outside and felt her knees threaten to go out from under her. There was the same stable where she had just left her horse, tucked beneath the massive fronds of a great, weeping tree while the deep, bass trumpet of a silt strider carried on the air. She saw the gentle, blue glow of a betty netch bobbing up in the trees beyond the stable, heard the rhythmic huffing of her mate somewhere close by, the lapping of water at the dock she could just spy off to her left, and Savior’s whinny from inside the stable. Red staggered back inside letting the doors fall closed behind her.

Fiska chuckled at the expression on the red-headed woman’s face and slid a mug onto the bar, filled with the dark ale she had the sudden knowledge the woman would prefer. “You’ll be wanting rooms then?”

Fin was but a few feet behind Red and still staring at the closed doors as if they would somehow explain opening half a world away from where they had come in. “That… was Vvardenfel. Yes?”

Red nodded numbly. “Yes.” She went to the bar and picked up the mug Fiska had left her. She took a long drink, set it back down, and began to laugh. “I spent a week on that thrice-blasted supply ship and heaved my guts through that storm, for nothing!” She dropped onto a bar stool and scrubbed a hand over her face. “And all I had to do was cross the damn bar two weeks ago and open the door to get to Solstheim. By the gods…”

Fin took the stool beside hers while his mind reeled with the impossibility. “I don’t understand.”

“Here, Bosmer.” Fiska slid a mug of warm, honeyed meade to him. “Drink before you fall off your stool.”

“Does it go other places?” Fin asked abruptly though his hands curled around the mug, warmth seeping into his fingers from it.

Fiska gave a growling chuckle and shook her head. “Not at the moment.” She gestured vaguely toward the back of the tavern. “There’s other doors back there but they don’t work. I don’t think they’re safe right now.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

P’urza’s tail curled up so she could catch the tip in her hand. She fluffed it with her claws while she looked at Red. “This one does not understand. You told P’urza to seek this place. Why is Red surprised at it?”

Red chuckled. She took her mug and swallowed the rest of the ale in a rush, letting it warm its way down her throat before she thumped it back onto the bar. “I suppose I shouldn’t be.” She pushed her bright hair out of her face with another laugh and pushed her mug toward Fiska for a refill. “She’s never been exactly normal, this tavern with no name.”

Fin sipped his meade and smiled at the pleasant taste while he took in the warm interior. “This is most interesting.” He took another sip and met Fiska’s steady gaze. “That this place should appear in our moment of need.”

“Don’t look at me.” Fiska harrumphed and rolled her eyes while she slid Red a fresh mug. “I’m going to find the cooks. You’ll be wanting food.” She waved a green hand toward the wide stairs to the upper floor. “You can find your own rooms, I’m sure.”

Red turned on her stool and leaned back against the bar, sipping her ale. “Getting back to Balmora just got a whole lot easier.”

“Your stolen merchandise?” Fin asked and quirked an elegant brow when Red laughed at him.

“Borrowed. I’m returning it after all.” Red took another long drink of the ale, savoring the rich flavor. “Just not to the same person I borrowed it from.” Fin let out an amused snort at that and Red smiled. “So, Bosmer ranger who chases thieves but does not bring them in,” she said with a smirk. “Care to visit rebuilt Balmora with me? It’s worth seeing.”

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

And you thought you wouldn't have to write that bit. MWAHAHAHA

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Volume One]

Red leaned forward in her saddle while her shout echoed up the narrow path. Part of her wanted to turn Savior and use the distraction. She could escape cleanly with no one the wiser for where she had gone. Yet, as the icy Solstheim winds bit into her leathers, she knew she wasn't going to leave the ranger to the ice troll's mercies.

"Sithis take me. I'm a fool." Red kicked her heels into Savior's sides, goading him back up the trail. "Come on, boy." She watched the ranger coming torward her at a full gallop, though his head was angled back to look at the troll even then bearing down on him. The beast was fast. "Faster. Ride faster damn you." she muttered. She turned her head, letting the wind blow her crimson hair from her face and pulled Savior to a dancing stop in the center of the trail. "Keep going!" Red shouted to the ranger as he neared. "Don't stop!"
Red drew the Dread Blade from the sheath along her spine. The odd, black metal glinted in the muted daylight as she turned Savior to the side. She pulled her left hand into a loose fist and a flame flickered to life behind her fingers, slowly growing as she concentrated. Ice trolls feared little but fire was always useful; she only hoped she would have enough time to make it strong enough to do any good.

Fin and Rabbit drew abreast of the lady thief and he saw flames flickering in her off hand. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Ride!"

"We'll never make it!" Red shook her head, focusing on the magic. "Stop talking now."

At that moment, the ice troll let out a mighty roar with its prey so close to its claws. The sound echoed, building in volume in the narrow pass and was soon joined by a rumble that quickly grew to a roar.

Red extended her left hand toward the troll as it drew closer, ready to release the magic into its chest. Savior suddenly danced sideways beneath her and nearly unseated her. "Hey!" She looked down at him and then jerked her head up, hearing the new sound, and saw a wall of white coming down from the hill above them. "Avalanche!" She flung her left hand out toward the troll and let the magic go. Flames roared out in a ball the size of her head. It flew the few, short feet to the beast before hitting its body and spreading along its fur in a rush, making the beast scream. She pulled Savior around, heading after the ranger but they had run out of time.

Fin's eyes widened as he saw the mountain of snow coming for them. He swallowed his panic and drew hard on Rabbit's reins; drawing her toward the side of the pass and the only cover there was. "Thief! Here!" He shouted. He looked and saw the bright flash of the woman's hair atop her dappled horse as they followed. The sound became deafening as he forced Rabbit in against the rocky wall and slid from her back. The thief was there a moment later and Fin frowned as she all but fell from her saddle to crumple into the snow.

Red panted, trying to catch her breath. She had felt her strength leave her along with the magic and while she had expected it, she had hoped to be racing to safety on Savior's back afterward. "Not good," she gasped.

Fin grabbed hold of the thief's shoulders and dragged her into the lee of the wall and hunched above her as the snow slammed into the trail. "Stay down!" He yelled but he couldn't hear his voice over the roaring of the snow. He risked a glance up and saw the thief's horse drop to his knees and lean into the wall with his muzzle resting against her bowed head. He ducked back down, feeling something hard glance off his temple and threw an arm up to protect himself.

The sound seemed to go on forever but finally it dwindled into uneasy silence. Red coughed and raised her head cautiously, bumping it against the chest of her ranger pursuer. "We lived?"

Fin let out a raspy laugh and settled back on his knees to take stock. "So it seems. Rabbit?" He smiled, finding his horse trembling against the wall of the trail but whole. "Where's our troll?"

Red straightened with effort, resting a hand on Savior's head when he huffed at her. "Hopefully, burned and buried." She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging snow as she tried to stand and her legs wobbled.

"Here." Fin caught her arm and braced her against the wall. "Are you well?"

"That spell takes a toll." Red gave him a crooked grin and brushed more snow from Savior's hide when he scrambled back to stand beside her. He blew out a heavy breath into her face before butting her in the chest hard enough to knock her back a step. "Well it was hardly my fault! Talk to the troll!"

Fin let out a soft laugh, in spite of the situation, and stepped away from her. The trail had been blocked on either side of them. The snow piled across the gulley twenty feet deep and he knew he would have to find another way back to the legion, assuming they could manage to dig themselves out. He debated whether he could subdue the thief right then and recover the stolen merchandise when a large hump of snow at the base of the near end of the avalanche moved. "Oh, no. Thief?"

"Red," she said and rescued her long knife from the snow. Red gave it a swing to clear the blade and moved up beside him. "Call me Red. That's Savior," she said, nodding to her horse. "I truly hoped we could get away without a fight."

Fin nodded. He pulled his bow off his shoulder and knocked an arrow quickly while the troll emerged from the snow with another roar. The hair on the front of its body had been singed clean off in a long, black swath and the wind carried the smell of burning flesh to them. "I'll try to hobble him from back here."

"Try not to hit me." Red sighed, moving closer to the beast before it could get its bearings. "Bloody snow put my flames out before they could do any real damage." She looked over her shoulder to Savior and flicked her fingers at him. "Get the mare and stay back, boy."

Fin's eyes widened in surprise when the gelding obediently caught Rabbit's reins in his teeth and pulled her with him as far away as the avalanche would allow. He turned back, sighting his arrow at the troll and felt a smile crease his face. "Danger makes strange bed-fellows, thief."

Red laughed as the troll lumbered toward her with blood in its eyes.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

I have a couple videos bookmarked of ambient sounds from Morrowind. Yes, I'm that nerd. I like to listen to them depending on what I'm trying to write.

This one is a thunderstorm with the in-game ambient music playing periodically in the background: Grazelands Thunderstorm and Music

And this one is the ambient sounds of Seyda Neen. No music. I can sleep to this one. Rainy Day in Seyda Neen

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

4 minutes ago, ladyonthemoon said:

 

A dragon attack here and there would be good; it would spice our friends' life and tales.

I still need to read more of your tales since you are more experienced than I am at this and then Kibwe and Whitka will enter the inn.

Can't wait to write with you! You'll pick it up fast, I'm sure. This sort of round-robin writing is a great mental exercise.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

I'd totally expect to find the odd dragon vacationing on the island; nice volcano to sauna in and all.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Your Character]

Red

Type: Secondary Player Character

--
Name: Unknown

--
Age: Appears to be in her late twenties to early thirties.

--
Race: Imperial

--
Sign: The Shadow

--
Alias: Red

--
Profession: Unaligned Assassin/Master Thief

--
Mount: Savior, a gelded Appaloosa warhorse with impeccable direction and camp finding skills, attitude, and a sugar cube fetish.

--
Weapons: An ancient Welkynd Bow, several throwing knives hidden in her clothes, a special spring-loaded dagger of Dwemer make in her left bracer, and a long-knife that rides in a sheathe down her spine. The knife is made of a blackened steel with unknown runes inscribed on its blade; it never dulls and those who touch the hilt sometimes hear a voice whisper to them as though from a distance.

--
Equipment: She wears dark brown leather pants, sturdy boots, a comfortable shirt, bracers, and a leather jerkin spelled to repel small amounts of damage from normal weapons. Her Thief's tool belt is equipped with a length of rope, picks and probes, and various small pouches with other usefuls in them, and a pair of Dwemer Goggles around her neck enchanted with a limited form of Detect Life and Night Eye for dungeon diving.
--
Appearance: Red is slight of build, though tall. Her burgundy-red hair is wild and often tied back to keep it out of her eyes, an odd shade of green like forest moss in a fog. Her most unique feature is her crooked chin. It tilts just slightly up to the left, giving her an ever-present smirk that has flustered many trying to discern her thoughts.
She carries several knives stashed around her person but her prize possession, the Dread Blade, who's blade never dulls and that she can sometimes be heard whispering to, rides in the sheathe along her spine.
--
Background: Red has little to say about her past. When well plied with mead, she will sometimes make reference to an orphanage in Black Marsh and once, in an unusually giving mood, mentioned being given to the Dark Brotherhood as a child; A common practice among those born to the Shadow in the Black Marsh, as she was. There are many stories of how she left the brotherhood, and some stories that say she never has.
--
Personality: She's smart, with a sassy mouth given to facetious comments and bad puns. She has a mercurial temper that can turn on a dime. One moment the slight, pretty thief and the next, someone you would wonder about turning your back on. Red is steadfast in her loyalties. Once a friend, she will gladly risk death for you and likewise seek yours should you betray her or hers. Those that are her friends are not to be meddled with.
She is strong of will and can endure a great deal where others would surely give up. If she has one fault, it is an irrational and crippling fear of spiders. She once hinted it had something to do with an event in her childhood but when pressed, drew a dagger and left the room.
She has been a thief all her life, so she says. She can't pass up a bit of shine and being told something is impossible is like dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse.
--
Hobbies & Habits: Red can often be found in an out of the way little tavern singing songs and poems of her own design. She says the gift of song is a thief's best friend for it teaches patience, timing, and creativity.
--
Special Powers/Weaknesses:
-A weak healing spell for herself or others.

-Limited Invisibility once per day. Lasts for just under two minutes.
-A fire spell that gains strength the longer she has to concentrate before releasing it. It can go from starting a campfire to turning a forest glade into glass if you leave her be long enough. However, the stronger she makes the spell, the more it will drain her until it leaves her unconscious and helpless. She avoids its use as a weapon wherever possible.

 

Additional Images:

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Volume One]

The tavern door banged open in a wash of wind and rain. Fiska leaned on the polished wood of the bar for a better look as a dark figure staggered quickly inside and threw the door closed again. The newcomer was a lithe khajiit female dressed in leathers and some sort of fur at her shoulders, a bow slung across the quiver on her back, and a heavy pack she thumped to the floor by the door and left. Fiska scowled at the sopping footprints the khajiit woman trailed across her clean floor and she raised a hand. “No. No. Dry off by the door first or I’ll be mopping up after you for a week!” She stared down the khajiit female’s cool, blue eyes, noting the wide scar across her nose, and leaned back when one feline brow clearly quirked up at her.

“Khajiit is wet and annoyed and must be dry.”

Fiska’s own brows rose. “I’m Fiska and this is my tavern. Do you have a name, cat?”

“This one is P’urza.” P’urza gave the orc a toothy smile. She set her bow and quiver on the bar and crouched.

“No. Oh, no.” Fiska waved her hands. “Don’t you da…” Fiska’s voice trailed off as P’urza vigorously shook her entire body. Water droplets flew in a rain around her. When she finally stopped, the Khajiit’s fur stood up all over her body as though she had been struck by lightning. Fiska wiped her hands over her face, taking the water with them, and smoothed them back through her dark hair while she took a deep breath, calming herself. “Was that necessary?”

P’urza let out a rolling chuckle and began smoothing her fur back down fastidiously. “If you have mop, P’urza will gladly clean for you.” She looked carefully around the taproom, taking in the spacious area, the dark wood, worn tables, and homey fire in the hearth. She stared a moment at the rather large Nord and his sparkling eyes before he looked away with a smile. P’urza ran her claws deftly up her ears, flicking the white tufts at their tips into place, and sat gracefully on one of the tall stools. “The red one told P’urza of this place. She said it is good place of hiding for those who do not want to be found.”

“The red one?” Fiska asked. She went to the back of the bar and pulled out a mop, stalking around to the front and the khajiit. “What’s a red one?”

“Red is her hair.” P’urza frowned. “Or maybe her skin. Bah. You shaveskins all seem the same to Khajiit.” P’urza shrugged. “Could have been her name. P’urza needs place to not be seen; red one says this is place of not-seeing so P’urza comes.” She stood back up and plucked the mop from Fiska’s hands with another smile. “Do you have… something sweet to drink? Sugary perhaps?”

Fiska shook her head distastefully, knowing the khajiit meant moonsugar. “I’ll have none of that in this tavern.” She left P’urza to clean up her own mess and went back behind the bar. “I have a sweet, mulled cider.” She poured a mug from the cask and set it on the bar in front of her. “It’s alcoholic but should be sugary enough for you.”

P’urza finished mopping the water from the floor, set the mop aside, and took her seat again. She picked up the mug with a nod of thanks and took a long drink. She closed her eyes and savored the sweet flavor on her tongue before the bite of the alcohol warmed her throat. She opened her eyes and flicked her claws at Fiska with a smile. “Blessings of the moons upon you for this! It is perfect. Thank you, short tail.”

“Fiska.” Fiska sniffed, though she appreciated the khajiit’s pleasure in the cider. “Not ‘short tail’.”

“This one meant no offense.” P’urza smiled and sipped her cider, looking around the tavern again. “P’urza has been this way through the Bitter Coast but never does she recall this place. How is it Khajiit is not seeing this tavern before?”

Fiska gave a shrug of her own and a smile. “Only just found it myself.” She wiped the last few droplets of water from the bar. “It just sort of appeared here.” She gave a wondering shake of her head. “And it seems to like me.”

“Hmm.” P’urza turned on her stool to look more closely at the interior. “Curious.” She lifted her nose, sniffing the air and tasted many scents; dog and nord, orc, the acrid tang of the murmuring fire, and another, crisper scent underneath it all that both gave her pause and made her feel safe. “Powerful magicks in this place, P’urza thinks.” She turned back to Fiska, ignoring the huffed laugh she heard from the Nord man behind her. “This one would like a room, please.”

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

6 minutes ago, DarkRider said:

Little friendly thief competition. There's a sheet for Red in the Skyrim bin I think

 

I'll go dig it up and maybe toss her up as a secondary character for now. Or maybe tomorrow. I shall think on it. Lol

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

See, Grond being in the taproom makes me want to dust Red off and bring her back too. Dammit. *grumbling* Two thieves. I can totally run two thieves at once. Done it before.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

Woop! Way to start her off with style! LOL Our tavern does like to make an entrance. And bonus points for Grond-man at the hearth. Heh.

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: OOC Discussion, I]

P'urza is about ready to roll out. I'm just deciding where to start her off. Tricksy little kitty. Lol

[Tavern Tales Morrowind: Your Character]

P'urza

 

Type: Main Player Character

Character Name: P’urza

Age: 27

Race: Khajiit

Occupation: Thief

Guardian Stone: The Tower

 

Alignment: Neutral Good

 

Mount: N/A

Physical Attributes: White, Lynx-like tufts on her ears. She is a mix of dark brown and cream fur with faint leopard spots, and cool, blue eyes. She has a scar across her nose and never the same story twice as to where it came from. She is lithe. as all khajiit are, and has an acrobat's abilities and reflexes from many years of cross-training. She has keen senses of hearing and smell.
 

P'urza wears a patchwork of leathers and furs, rather than traditional armor. She's a sneak-thief, not a warrior, but is well-trained to defend herself or others when need be.

Weapons: She carries an ashwood bow, a one-handed war axe, and always has several throwing knives secreted about her person, along with a collection of picks and probes.
 

Spells:

Open Lock - this only works on very simple locks, like those in most jail cells.
Heal - a simple spell for healing on herself or others. It will buy time with more dire injuries.

 

Backstory: P'urza was born and raised in the Black Keirgo quarter of Senchal in southern Elsweyr. As a child, she was a runner for the moonsugar smugglers until her master 'lost' her in a dice game to the Sload necromancers. P'urza escaped her fate worse than death and instead joined the Thieve's guild, where she took particular pleasure looting gold from the Sload and the sugar smugglers. She was forced to flee Elsweyr to Vvardenfell after finding herself on the wrong end of the necromancer's hit list, following a job where two of her fellow thieves were captured, killed, and later sent to kill her. P'urza has never left a traveling companion behind again as a result for she firmly believes they would not have become zombies if she had stayed with them.

 

Personality: P'urza is snarky and smart-mouthed, even in the direst of situations. For a thief, she is burdened with an over-abundance of loyalty to those she travels with as well as a weakness for those in need. Like most khajiit, she is also a moonsugar addict. This has given her an insatiable sweet tooth, as the drug is omnipresent in most of the food of Elsweyr. She will always have candy on her. P'urza is rarely without her sweets.

She has seen the worst life has to offer, and thanks to the necromancers of her home city, also the worst death has to offer. Rather than morose, it has made her somewhat flippant in regards to her own life. She has no fear of dying, provided there are no necromancers about to 'ruin her afterlife'. Above all, P'urza enjoys her trade. There is nothing more beautiful to her than a lock in need of opening and her collection of 'shinies'. She does love her gems.

Because she spent the majority of her life in the cloying heat of Senchal, P'urza hates the cold and does not do well in dealing with it. She chose Morrowind to hide from the necromancers because it, at least, has a civilized temperature in most places, unlike that thrice-damned, frozen Skyrim which is no good place for khajiit.

 

P'urza will sometimes wrap her tail around the wrist or leg of someone she likes as a sign of affection. And often holds the end of her own tail as if making sure it's still there. "P'urza must be sure. It would be embarrassing if it were to wander off, yes?"


Special Powers/Weaknesses: She despises the cold. It makes her lethargic and she is easily prone to hypothermia in truly freezing weather.

She has no special powers save an uncanny ability to open almost any lock, due to her years of training with the nameless master locksmith of Elsweyr.

 

Night vision- because of her khajiit nature, P'urza sees in the dark like others see in the daylight. As long as there is the smallest sliver of ambient light, she will not be blind in the darkness.


Additional Images:

 

[BOOK LISTING for yours truly! Kurrie Hoyt]

Got a new book published this week!!  Some of you might recognize the characters from the Tavern Tales. Rider and Grond were kind enough to allow me to add their boys to my world with Red and the Tavern. Pick up a copy and have a read!

 

I'm working on getting the print edition live. I'll add a link to that as soon as I have it, in the meantime it's available on Kindle and all other ereader formats here:

 

 

Kindle Edition on Amazon

 

Smashwords for all other electronic formats

[BOOK LISTING for yours truly! Kurrie Hoyt]

 

At my book signing today! It was pretty damn awesome! Even had a fangirl show up. That's her next to me. She sort of hovered and squeed for two hours. HAHAHA

[BOOK LISTING for yours truly! Kurrie Hoyt]

BOOK SIGNING EVENT!!!

 

February 9th from 2pm to 4pm at Vally View Barnes and Noble

 

Valley View Mall

4802 Valley View Blvd NW

Roanoke, VA 24012

540-563-5683

 

I, along with fellow author and roomie extraordinaire C. M. Adams, will be at Barnes and Noble to sign books!! Grab your favorites and come down and meet us, get our scribbles *I mean autographs*, grab a pic and pick our brains.

 

Help us make this a memorable event! And many many thanks to Barnes and Noble for supporting local Indie Authors! *fistbump*

[BOOK LISTING for yours truly! Kurrie Hoyt]

As many of you know, I am an Indie Author. As I continue to finish and publish new books, I'll use this thread to list the links to them and keep this first post up to date for you!

 

 

Winding Deep - Book One of the Red Chronicles

The life of an assassin turned thief is rarely dull and Red has more trouble than she bargained for with a contract on her head, assassins behind every bush, an enigmatic tavern with a mind of its own and the cult of Medeana showing far too much interest in her. A stranger’s quest will lead her and new friends to a remote cave and a mystery that could endanger not only them, but the world.

 

Amazon Kindle Edition

Amazon Print Edition

All other electronic formats on Smashwords

 

 

Sereine: Book One of the Hunter Trilogy

When the fragile status quo between humans and the blood-hungry sirens is threatened, one Hunter finds himself thrust into the middle of a potential war and is forced to seek help from one of the very monsters he is sworn to destroy. Can Frank Donaldson learn the disturbing truth of the sirens and avert catastrophe before humanity finds itself knocked off the top of the food chain?

 

Amazon Kindle Edition

Amazon Print Edition

All Other Digital Formats on Smashwords

 

 

Caelestis: Book Two of the Hunter Trilogy

‘She is coming.’ Ominous words spoken in warning, siren to Hunter, that will come to haunt paranormal investigator Esca Boyde as she discovers her frightening role in the scheme of an ancient enemy. Frank and Danny return in Caelestis to find themselves caught in a web of terror as they, Esca, and strange new allies fight to save both human and siren from a darkness that could consume them all.

 

Amazon Kindle Edition

Amazon Print Edition

 

 

From Bad to Verse: A Poetry Anthology

A small collection of nine short poems exploring everything from writer's block to how the Grim Reaper may have come to be.

 

Amazon Kindle Edition

Amazon Print Edition

 

 

Shifting Sands: An Alex and Jamie Novel

This novel contains some graphic adult content and cannot be linked to. Search for and RAOR.

 

Marshal Alex Reese’s career is on the rocks. Disgraced, he finds himself chasing a run of the mill hacker but Jamie Iverach will teach Alex more about himself than he ever wanted to know. A shady club owner with a plan and a trip to the desert will change the marshal’s life forever. Can he survive being hunted by his own people long enough to find a way out of the madness?

*Note that this novel contains several explicit encounters between two consenting, male adults.

 

 

COMING SOON:

 

Cassus Belli: Book Three of the Hunter Trilogy

Winding Deep: The Red Chronicles #1

[My first novel! Now up for Sale!]

My first review on Amazon. Even better than I'd hoped for!

 

"An amazing turn out for a first time author, the verse Kurrie Hoyt creates is so tangible and raw mixing reality with fantasy to a point where you almost forget which is which. Hope to see a sequel soon I'm definitely hanging in for the rest of the ride, if you enjoy sci-fi with a supernatural feel, this one is for you."