The Mortal Coil: A UESRPG Game

[Vonfossen]

The bell tolls to herald the evening shift at the Drelyn ebony mine on the western outskirts of Old Ebonheart. You and your motley crew of dust caked companions emerge from the mine to spend their hard earned drakes the best way they can - at the local tavern, a cozy little brick establishment known as The Velk's Tuft.

Shein has never been your go-to drink, but times are hard and rents are high. The collective sigh of the working class seems to be muffled by the roaring fire of The Velk’s Tuft, serving some of the best kwama pastries this side of the inner sea. The dirty little establishment meshes Colovian and Hlaalu styling; the taste of the cheap saltrice that the flour was cut with comes through when you sink your teeth into the treat. It’s not much, but it’s home.

You and a few of your fellow coworkers that you know somewhat-well-enough sit at a small, round table that tilts when you lean on it. A familiar rapport and banter go back and forth amongst you, small talk for working class men. In the center of your meek table lies a slatted redware plate used to request refills used commonly in Hlaalu establishments. Despite the place being owned by an imperial, there is a mild leaning toward dunmer stylings. Orcs and Altmer insult each other’s taste in women on the other end of the small room, several accents clatter against the walls.

You put your tan, foggy glassware upside down on the slatted refill plate. It’s a calm, quiet way to request a refill in these joints. You shoot the Argonian barservant a glare and she catches it, you can see her left eye lock onto your empty cup as she manages to look over her shoulder. She’s diligent because she’s afraid of abuse, she wants out like everybody else but is afraid to change.

She lifts your cup and begins refilling it as you stare out into space. The barservant gradually loses her composure and scurries away after slamming your drink down. As your table comes back into focus before you, a fine brass ring is sitting upright in the slat under your where your cup was. The table’s eyes are on the ring, which immediately lets you understand one thing: the barservant didn’t put it there. What is this ring, and where did it come from?

What do you do?

We'll work on character sheets later. I'll link them to you.
For now, just state your race, roll and determine your characteristics, and make your action.

[Dragonne Papre]

Like everyone else at the table, Makela is surprised at the ring, seemingly appearing out of thin air. But surprise gives in to curiosity, and the object becomes impossible to ignore. And they shouldn't ignore it, if only for the fact that the topic of the ring would be a welcome alternative to the regular banter. After just a moment's hesitation, she reaches out to pick up the ring.

Why not? Sooner of later, someone is going to have to pick it up, and it might as well be her.


Orsimer:
Base statline:
Str: 28
End: 30
Ag: 22
Int: 23
Wp: 26
Prc: 24
Prs: 22

Favoured Characteristics:
Endurance, Personality

Rolling for Characteristics:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Rolling for Luck:
[roll7]

[Vonfossen]

As you pick up the ring, you notice a peculiarity. The simple brass ring has an unadorned gemsocket that was stuck between the slats of the redware plate. You wiggle it free and take a closer look at the ring, the table's eyes are on you.
[roll0]

You can't really make out what's special about the ring. All you can tell is that there is something very unusual about it.

Hey there, you can get started on your character sheet here if you'd like: docs.google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1Y3Mkj6rY8tNKI84JBTLbsJzQK3NJKi3s9-BPtxfL1Dk/edit?usp=sharing

[Nattravnen]

I look at the orc while she takes the ring, if she doesn't want it, I certainly would, it can probably get sold for some gold, maybe it's magic, which would make it even more valuable...

Argonian:
Base statline:
Str: 25
End: 24
Ag: 28
Int: 27
Wp: 24
Prc: 25
Prs: 22

Favoured Characteristics:
Agility, Intelligence

Rolling for Characteristics:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Rolling for Luck:
[roll7]

[Vonfossen]

Thanks for joining, I got your message and you're more than welcome to learn as you play. This is my first time playing over forums, but I'm experienced with UESRPG, so let me know if you have any questions on how stuff works. I honestly think it's the best RPG system that I've played, with a tremendous amount of leeway built in for creative mechanics.

I was hoping to assemble at least 4 players before continuing with the story out of this area. I've contacted some IRL peeps who may be interested in joining us. As for now, I've made you (Nattravnen) a character sheet that you can use and begin filling in here: docs.google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1OHkWQS6UL3cC7vGHRnTRUw7R8xDdWSP8vSUGqrvWaF0/edit?usp=sharing

If both of you are looking to kill some time, you can spend 1000 starting CrP to get some skills and talents set up. You can do it as if it was on character creation as outlined in chapter 2 under "Spend CrP and Purchase items" - except you don't start with any drakes or equipment. I think it's a better idea to let you pick and train some skills before I start rolling for you again. Also feel free to invite anybody you think might be interested in playing as well, I'm hoping to have between 4-6 people before we get the ball rolling. Once again, thanks for joining, you two.

[Casimir]

The apprentice looks up momentarily from writing in his journal when the waitress sets down the order, and though curious about the seemingly random brass ring dismisses it after Makela picks it up and goes back to drinking his glass of Greef.


Dunmer: Base Statline / Attribute Bonus
Strength: 25
Endurance: 24
Agility: 29
Intelligence: 25
Willpower: 24
Perception: 25
Personality: 23

Final Stats:
Strength: 40
Endurance: 36
Agility: 38
Intelligence: 37
Willpower: 29
Perception: 37
Personality: 43
Luck: 34

Favoured Characteristics:
Intelligence, Willpower

[Casimir]

Rolling for stats v2


Rolling for characteristics
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Rolling for luck
[roll7]

[Vonfossen]

A momentary lapse in the everyday happening sets off a chain of events. Sudden silence at your table causes the imperials next table over to get curious, which causes some house Dres merchants interest to pique. The three of them prop themselves up out of their chairs and shamble in the direction of your table. Although they are merchants, their appearances seem anything but businesslike. The imperials sink into their seats.

House Dres has never had a good image. Slave-owning, daedra-worshipping, desert-dwelling Dunmer supremacists who hoard slaves and travel through underground tunnels have never struck you as the friendliest sort. Since the fall of the Tribunal a few years back, they have been on a surge of popularity. Working with the Redoran, they have done everything they can to gradually weaken the empire's power in the region. Even many ashlander tribes have migrated to take hold of the economic gains. Slowly but surely, Old Ebonheart is beginning to feel imperial in architecture only.

The three of them seem quite young. The tallest of the lot stands behind Makela and puts his left hand on the backside of her chair. His thick, choppy ashlander accent is lubricated by a liberal application of Matze as he attempts to speak in your Cyrodillic. Quite loudly, he says:
"Oh, Muth'sera, it seems that you've found my ring. Many thanks."
His arms and body encircle you, blocking your right flank; his outstretched palm hovering over your plate. His two goonies, looking fresh off the silt-strider, are standing and giving you the stink eye from a table away. They're looking down at your hodgepodge table, hoping to pocket a trinket with little effort. What will you do?

Thanks for joining. We should have our fourth joining in a bit, so I'll go ahead and get things rolling.

Here is your character sheet docs.google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1UiUmfeD_29Aa1Zotw2-G5wG7VohfcIwwVZ-lGKfV6Uk/edit?usp=sharing

The three of you can go ahead and finish up the character creation process with 1000 CrP whenever you're ready (don't pick equipment or drakes). The sheet is mostly automated, so you can just select your skills and it should fill everything in. I'm sorry to say that at a 1000 CrP, it may not be good to call yourself a wizard yet in front of any NPCs. If anything, you're more like an Evoker or Apprentice right now.

Speaking of which, do any of you have any guild/religious ties?

[Casimir]

A momentary lapse in the everyday happening sets off a chain of events. Sudden silence at your table causes the imperials next table over to get curious, which causes some house Dres merchants interest to pique. The three of them prop themselves up out of their chairs and shamble in the direction of your table. Although they are merchants, their appearances seem anything but businesslike. The imperials sink into their seats.

House Dres has never had a good image. Slave-owning, daedra-worshipping, desert-dwelling Dunmer supremacists who hoard slaves and travel through underground tunnels have never struck you as the friendliest sort. Since the fall of the Tribunal a few years back, they have been on a surge of popularity. Working with the Redoran, they have done everything they can to gradually weaken the empire's power in the region. Even many ashlander tribes have migrated to take hold of the economic gains. Slowly but surely, Old Ebonheart is beginning to feel imperial in architecture only.

The three of them seem quite young. The tallest of the lot stands behind Makela and puts his left hand on the backside of her chair. His thick, choppy ashlander accent is lubricated by a liberal application of Matze as he attempts to speak in your Cyrodillic. Quite loudly, he says:
"Oh, Muth'sera, it seems that you've found my ring. Many thanks."
His arms and body encircle you, blocking your right flank; his outstretched palm hovering over your plate. His two goonies, looking fresh off the silt-strider, are standing and giving you the stink eye from a table away. They're looking down at your hodgepodge table, hoping to pocket a trinket with little effort. What will you do?

Thanks for joining. We should have our fourth joining in a bit, so I'll go ahead and get things rolling.

Here is your character sheet docs.google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1UiUmfeD_29Aa1Zotw2-G5wG7VohfcIwwVZ-lGKfV6Uk/edit?usp=sharing

The three of you can go ahead and finish up the character creation process with 1000 CrP whenever you're ready (don't pick equipment or drakes). The sheet is mostly automated, so you can just select your skills and it should fill everything in. I'm sorry to say that at a 1000 CrP, it may not be good to call yourself a wizard yet in front of any NPCs. If anything, you're more like an Evoker or Apprentice right now.

Speaking of which, do any of you have any guild/religious ties?

Only with House Telvanni and The Reclamations religious movement in morrowind

[Nattravnen]

A momentary lapse in the everyday happening sets off a chain of events. Sudden silence at your table causes the imperials next table over to get curious, which causes some house Dres merchants interest to pique. The three of them prop themselves up out of their chairs and shamble in the direction of your table. Although they are merchants, their appearances seem anything but businesslike. The imperials sink into their seats.

House Dres has never had a good image. Slave-owning, daedra-worshipping, desert-dwelling Dunmer supremacists who hoard slaves and travel through underground tunnels have never struck you as the friendliest sort. Since the fall of the Tribunal a few years back, they have been on a surge of popularity. Working with the Redoran, they have done everything they can to gradually weaken the empire's power in the region. Even many ashlander tribes have migrated to take hold of the economic gains. Slowly but surely, Old Ebonheart is beginning to feel imperial in architecture only.

The three of them seem quite young. The tallest of the lot stands behind Makela and puts his left hand on the backside of her chair. His thick, choppy ashlander accent is lubricated by a liberal application of Matze as he attempts to speak in your Cyrodillic. Quite loudly, he says:
"Oh, Muth'sera, it seems that you've found my ring. Many thanks."
His arms and body encircle you, blocking your right flank; his outstretched palm hovering over your plate. His two goonies, looking fresh off the silt-strider, are standing and giving you the stink eye from a table away. They're looking down at your hodgepodge table, hoping to pocket a trinket with little effort. What will you do?

Thanks for joining. We should have our fourth joining in a bit, so I'll go ahead and get things rolling.

Here is your character sheet docs.google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1UiUmfeD_29Aa1Zotw2-G5wG7VohfcIwwVZ-lGKfV6Uk/edit?usp=sharing

The three of you can go ahead and finish up the character creation process with 1000 CrP whenever you're ready (don't pick equipment or drakes). The sheet is mostly automated, so you can just select your skills and it should fill everything in. I'm sorry to say that at a 1000 CrP, it may not be good to call yourself a wizard yet in front of any NPCs. If anything, you're more like an Evoker or Apprentice right now.

Speaking of which, do any of you have any guild/religious ties?


Seeing the dunmers seemingly wanting to take the ring and himself not wanting to let go an opportunity like this, Walk-with-stars decide to speak up and defend this loot as he can. If there's one thing he learned while he lived by himself, it's that you don't survive if you let other take what could be yours. He turn to the dunmer and trying to look as revering as he can he says :
"I'm really sorry sir dunmer, but you must be mistaken, this ring is mine and I was just showing it to a few of my friends. But your mistake is understandable since it was given to me by my ancient master, may his soul rest in peace, when he freed me in his last will."


Well I suppose my character could have kinda worked with the thieve guild for some little things but he was never part of the organisation. Also he's not the religious kind, he just see the gods and their religion as something in the background, gold is the real thing people worship.

[Casimir]

Markan leans back in his seat and pulls out his pipe from his rucksack, lighting it with a match as he looks over this new development with amusment.

"Take my advice and take care Serjo, my scaled friend may look meek, but as soon as you turn your back to his you'll soon find a knife in it. Best you take his hint before you find yourself in a ditch somewhere today."

Markan doesn't believe the boy will actually listen to him, but he had to at least give him a warning.

[Nattravnen]

Markan leans back in his seat and pulls out his pipe from his rucksack, lighting it with a match as he looks over this new development with amusment.

"Take my advice and take care Serjo, my scaled friend may look meek, but as soon as you turn your back to his you'll soon find a knife in it. Best you take his hint before you find yourself in a ditch somewhere today."

Markan doesn't believe the boy will actually listen to him, but he had to at least give him a warning.

Walk-with-stars turn to Markan and look at him in surprise, he didn't thought the mer would have say that, nor that he would have been so bold in front of potential agressor. He then turn to the other dunmer again and say, trying to stay calm :
"I'm sure the tales my companion heard must have been greatly exagerated, my motto is that the less you fight the less you get hurt, and of course I wouldn't want to fight a dunmer from such a great house as the house Dres."

[Casimir]

Markan throws his head back and roars with laughter.

"Hahahaha oh don't mind my humble friend here, he does himself a disservice. Why Starry I remember just lask week when we where in here and you had gotten youself so deep in your cups you didn't know which way was up when a hugh barfight broke out between two imperials. The fight hadn't even begun for more than half a minute before Starry here sways over and beats them so bad they didn't wake up for THREE days. Now you can put down argonians all you want, but take care I say Serjo, this one may be humble but underneath that disguise lays a drunken fist master the likes of which you've never seen before!"

As the group looks over at Walk-with-stars with increaseing incredulity growing over their faces, Markan winks at the argonian hopeing he'll play along with the ruse.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars sigh soflty and close his eyes, if this ruse work then he will owe Markan a glass of anything he wants, if only for the boldness of it. He then open his eyes again and say, trying to look surprised :
"Oh so that's what happened ? Divines I wondered why I had those marks on my hands, guess they had a tougher skin than most..."

[Dragonne Papre]

"Friends, surely you are overreacting. These tradesmer merely made the mistake of thinking your ring was theirs. It would not be right of us to let an honest mistake lead to grave injury, and ruin the rest of the evening".
Makela leans back in her chair, closes her fist around the ring, and tilts her head up to the side, trying to get face-to-face with the Dunmer.
"This brass trinket, unenchanted and ungarnished, is all my friend has left to remember his dear old master by, and he has just now given it to me so that I can take it to his relatives in Stormhold, which is where my Legion resides".
The Dres had been met by quite the volley of words by now, and she wasn't sure that he'd buy her bluff. Or any of their bluffs. But hopefully, just showing him that they weren't going to back down easily might be enough to turn him away. If worst came to worst, they could always just give them the ring. It seemed better, right now, to be friendly but dismissive, rather than trying to pick a fight.


Closest thing I get to guild ties is the fact that my father's in the Imperial Legion, working for the Proconsul in Narsis. But he's just another guard, not important enough to have any pull.
No ties to any religious organisation, just some personal faith. Strictly speaking a Trinimac cultist, but Imperialized enough to mix it with the Imperial Cult, to a somewhat inconsistent result.

Rolling for a Warrior Birthsign.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Casimir]

That reminds me I forgot to roll for my birthsign.

[roll0]
[roll1]


Edit: Welp guess I'm losing 10 luck to get star-cursed Atronach

[Nattravnen]

Yep let's roll for that sign !


[roll0]
[roll1]


Well The Thief it is then !

[Vonfossen]

Opposed Assisted Deceive with Ex-Slave stigma: [roll0] vs.[roll1]

[Vonfossen]

Upon hearing that the ring belongs to the Argonian, the Dres merchant’s eyebrow twitches. Upon hearing that the Dunmer is backing the Argonian, a frown appears. Upon hearing that the Argonian is an ex-slave, his blood curdles. By the time that the Makela was looking to speak, he had no further interest in listening to any voice of reason.

Certainly, the ring is yours, you’ve convinced the whole tavern of that. But they can’t seem to contain their sheer rage that they were told off by a slave.
Highest team initiative roll, your +6 vs. their +7
[roll0] vs. [roll1]

[Spoiler=birthsign explanation]Sorry for the confusion, you guys are welcome to pick your birthsign, but you’ll need to pay 5 luck if you want the star cursed version.[spoiler]

[Vonfossen]

The Dres man's hair dishevels as he lets loose with a swift punch to WwS. WwS notices this and attempts an evasion.
Dres Punch vs. WwS evade
[roll0] vs [roll1]

The two thugs stand startled by this turn of events, but turn to immediately scan the table to watch for movements.

[Vonfossen]

The two goonies look let down as their leader has shamed himself. In his drunken stagger, he punches right past you without you even moving to dodge. He hits his hand on the table. The tavern erupts into laughter. His goonies quickly rush to hold him back.

Disheveled, drunken, he screams:
“You filthy lizard, look into my eyes. We own you. I have no interest in hearing some guar**** sob story of some weak willed swit who croaked and left you some trinket. I want you to shut your lying trap, and hand me back what is mine.”
The imperials a table over shout back "Go drunk, you're home" as one of the Dres goonies is trying his damndest to hold in his giggling. After a few moments of foot dragging and apologetic henchmen, the door to the tavern slams shut. They're gone. The imperials in their cowardice high five one another as though they saved the day.

WwS, closer, and a bit more sober, takes a look at the ring that he's found himself fixated on.
[roll0]

You're able to spot the faintest of engravings on the ring. It's like they're there, but then they're not there at the same time. Almost like a double vision with one over the other.

This thought is interrupted by a visitor. The barkeep, a tall, baby faced imperial man walks up to your table in an attempt for friendly smalltalk.
"I'm very sorry about the ruckus that those Dres folks caused. We had a sign up that prohibited ashlanders but the council insisted we take it down. How's your night going? Do you all work at that dangerous Ebony mine down the road? Can't be any place too fancy or you wouldn't be eating here, right? Hah!"

[Casimir]

"Right you are muthsera, we just finnished work half an hour or so ago when we decided to visit your fine establishment."

By the way, how long have we been working at the ebony mine? And how are combat rolls working in this, I had though it was a roll under system based on how high your specific skills where + their attribute. For a Example of what I mean, Say I won the initiative and went first to try and strike the Dres house member, I'd be attacking with unarmed (Fighting Style: Novice(No bonus, no malus): unarmed) roll 1d100 and need to roll under my strength score of 40 to succeed and also beat his block or evade. Have you changed this?

[Vonfossen]

You've been working at the ebony mine for about a year, drifting between temporary jobs. You guys are flat-out working class poor for your own reasons.

Holy crap, you're right. Page 9. Thanks for clearing that up for me. I've been DM'ing this for years and nobody has corrected me on this yet. This is so much easier and makes so much more sense. Thanks. I'll get your chart sheets fixed.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars clenches his fists and start to hiss trough his teeth :
"Nobody has the right to insult my old master like this..."
He looks like he is about to explode in anger, thanks to his master, nobody own him anymore, and he's not going to let some filthy ashlander say otherwise. If most of the time W-w-s just shrug off insult like they're nothing and he normaly would be laughing with the other, he can't accept people to insult the memory of his old master.

He then take a deep breath to try to calm himself before leaning and taking the ring to examine it from closer, he already saw some magic trinkets but that's the first time one is this strange.

[Nattravnen]

You've been working at the ebony mine for about a year, drifting between temporary jobs. You guys are flat-out working class poor for your own reasons.

Holy crap, you're right. Page 9. Thanks for clearing that up for me. I've been DM'ing this for years and nobody has corrected me on this yet. This is so much easier and makes so much more sense. Thanks. I'll get your chart sheets fixed.



Yeah I also didn't understood, that's also why the crit range was inversed I suppose ^^

[Toadly]

A Dunmer woman that had been sitting at a nearby table throughout the ordeal steps up behind the bartender and taps him on the shoulder with a bloody finger.
"Can I get a rag or something?" she asks the bartender sharply, brow furrowed in a pained frown. "And another mead while you're at it."
She presents her left hand, bloody with a small shard of glass still in her palm. Looking at the table she was sitting at, it's apparent that she somehow broke her glass while holding it.
Blood drips from her injured hand, the red a stark contrast to her ashen skin. The other hand clasps a dark blue, silver adorned book to her chest tightly.
She looks at the workers who just stood up to the Dres and ***** an eyebrow as a hint of a grin twitches at the corner of her mouth. "You shoulda hit him" she says to the Argonian. "I would've done way worse to the bastard."



Female Dunmer

Base statline:
Str: 25
End: 24
Ag: 29
Int: 25
Wp: 24
Prc: 25
Prs: 23

Favoured Characteristics:
Willpower, Perception

Rolling for stats:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Rolling for luck:
[roll7]

[Nattravnen]

The argonian turn to the woman and lift an eybrow while looking at her up and down, he then say :
"Trust me when I say that if it was only for me this bastard would be dead by tomorow, but I can't just go around fighting every dunmer who act like this with me, or I would be the one to be dead tomorow, with the exception that I would be executed."

He then see her injury and look genuily surprised :
"What happened to you ?"

[Toadly]

The Dunmer woman lets the tiny smile creep onto her lips a little further as the Argonian voices his displeasure, before wiping it off her face, to be replaced by her go-to expression of mildly annoyed boredom.
"Just ignore filth like that; entitled royal Dres-holes like them pass through here all the time, and most of them are just as stuck up as him." She spits on the floor in disgust, glancing back at the door.
She examines her hand, seemingly phased very little by the large cut. A slight grimace flashes across her face as she pull out the glass shard, which she discards on her table behind her before snatching a rag from the barkeep's waist and wrapping it around her hand.
"This? I guess I lost my temper a bit while I was reading, gripped it a little too hard. That or it already had a crack in it... either way, I could probably use another drink right now."

So I talked with GM, we're gonna try to work out a system for posting so that it's relatively even, no one gets left behind like 10 posts or something. I guess more to come from god emporer Vonfossen~~

[Nattravnen]

"Well, what could you read that made you annoyed enough that you could hurt yourself ?" Asked the argonian, almost impressed by this kind of behaviour.


Well then I'll try to not post too much, until we have clearer rules at least !

[Dragonne Papre]

"Let's just be glad that they've left, and that no one was armed. A stabbing would be a horrible way to end the evening".
The Orsimer takes a few deep breaths and uncurls her fists, letting go of the tension created by the near-brawl. Seeing that the some of her drink was spilled in the commotion, Makela frowns and inspects her cup to see what's left, before promptly downing most of it.
"Either way, I could use another drink". She looks over at the the newly arrived Dunmer, who's already in conversation with Walks-with-Stars, and tries to get her attention. "You're welcome to join us at the table".


It's strictly speaking still not right. The correct formula is on page 10 of the Core Rulebook.

[Toadly]

The corners of the Dunmer woman's mouth dip into a slight frown as she replies.
"It's more about what I'm not able to read, what with ********s like them galavanting about, spouting out racist garbage like they own us all. No, it's those swine that pushed my buttons a bit too far just now, i guess flipping through so many book pages has made me lose track of my own hand strength," the woman said with a bitter chuckle.
She grabs a chair and plops down at the table, pushing her slightly askew glasses back up her nose. "After you guys told them off like that, i'd love to share a drink with you." She peers at the ring. "Is that what all the commotion was about?"

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars look down on the ring in his hand, he almost forgot about it when the dunmer woman came to talk to him.
"Yeah, it kinda appeared out of nowhere and there's some strange engravings on it, I'm not very well versed into the mystery of magic but normal rings don't have things like that"
He say while showing the ring to her.

He then make sign to a bartender "Another round here !" and sit at the table.
"Anyway it's nice to know I can count on you guys to have my back when needed" He says, facing his other companions.

[Vonfossen]

The smiling bartender waves to the barservant, passing the message along. She seems to be a little warmer now. The owner pulls a rag out of his dirty apron and hands it to Lilith, his complexion grows concerned as he remains fixated on Casimir.
"I was afraid of that. The laborers from the Drelyn mine are almost all of my customers these days. I'm not one for spreading baseless rumors, but from one citizen to another, I recommend you begin searching for new work. I've heard from the guards that the mine isn't safe and that there is talk of shutting it down. They dug the thing too deep, too fast and now the dutchess doesn't want to spend the coin to shore it up proper."
He looks away and lets out a tired sigh.
"The Redoran want to buy the land for development. I doubt they'll have interest in a cheap imperial tavern. If that mine goes, so will my business. If my business goes, who will take care of poor Salamantha?"
The normally expressionless barservant rolls her eyes on the mentioning of what you could guess is nothing more than her nickname. She gently puts down a round of 4 drinks, spots the blood and broken glassware, and scurries off to find the broom and detergent.

[Vonfossen]

Lilith looks intently at the ring.
Observe [roll0] vs 37

And she has nothing. It looks like a plain ring to her. She can't see what WwS sees. But, after hearing WwS's description of it, she is undoubtedly curious. For some reason she can't quite get, she is drawn to it.

Her increasing fixation is interrupted by bartender's attempt at smalltalk.
"Please be careful with the glassware, they're the last batch from the old Hlaalu shop down the street that closed a few moons back. I can tell from your accent that you're not from around here - Ashlander, perhaps? Which tribe? I've been around. What brings you to Old Ebonheart?"

From what I can tell, since Makela has a luck bonus of 3, she has to roll 98 (95+3) or above to get a crit fail. This is shown on the sheet as saying that she has to roll over 97 to get a crit fail. Is this wrong?

I got to find a better way to roll dice or figure out why this thing is so buggy.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars sigh deeply as he hear the announce of the bartender, for once he had a stable job with a stable revenu but this land seems to never stay trouble-free for a long time so he expected this kind of news. But now wasn't the time to complain and more like the time to find something else, if only just so he could have something to eat. He seemed to think for an instant then took a look at the ring before putting it in one of his pocket and turned to the bartender :
"If you heard rumors about the mine closing soon, maybe you heard about some jobs ? I have to say, I'll take pretty much anything that can earn me a few drakes. I guess otherwise I'll just hit the road, it's not like anything tie me to this place."

[Dragonne Papre]

"I too would be interested in word about another job, if you happen to know about one".
The barternder's news was the crowning moment of an evening defined by primarily bad news. Makela wasn't sure if she was to include the ring itself into that, as the nature of the trinket was still obscure, but it certainly hadn't brought anything good so far. The prospect of being out of work did not seem appealing, especially as she barely made any money doing this.


Oh, my fault. I read it as "97 or higher" instead of "higher than 97".

[Vonfossen]

The barkeep (bartender/owner) leans against a chair and takes a swig of mellow ale, looking off into deep thought. "Available work... hmm..." he mutters to himself.

The patrons had their fill after the spectacle that just occurred and the establishment was beginning to clear out. The opening and closing of the door brings in the chill of a Morning Star evening. It's due to start snowing any day now, and the thought of being kicked from the mining company dorms onto a snowy city street sounds mortifying. The imperial cult may take you in, but they're probably up to their heads already this time of year. The Temple would probably be happy to take you in... but you're not sure if you'd be all too keen on the compromises that would have to be made as a result.

As for work, you're not entirely sure that you'd have much luck outside of Old Ebonheart. Aside from Firewatch, which is becoming increasingly isolated, Old Ebonheart is one of the few truly empire friendly places in Morrowind. You’re more able to find work as an outsider here. Redoran is expanding influence in the northwest and Dres in the southeast, both of which enact modest to extreme hiring restrictions on outlanders depending on locale. Perhaps you’d fare well to the far northwest, but that’s practically Skyrim - and you definitely don’t want to be in Skyrim come Sun’s Dawn.

You’d rather not leave Morrowind if possible, either. You have memories here and you feel relatively knowledgeable, at least enough to feel superior to other outlanders.

“I got nothing.” the barkeep looks down into his empty cup, disappointed. “Maybe you can sign off with the fighter’s guild to be a disposable mercenary for the Redoran?” He sports a wry grin “Probably not as dangerous as mining.”

It’s looking like you’ll be repeating a year in the school of hard knocks.

[Toadly]

The Dunmer woman looks up at the bartender, still half lost in thought. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm Ashlander... I was once Urshilaku, but my father and I left to travel on our own due to... differences of opinion on certain tribal matters."
A slight hesitation due to careful choice of words breaks up her last statement. Mind still partially elsewhere, she takes a long drink from her glass, leaving less than half of the contents remaining when it thuds back down on the wood.
"As to why I'm in town, I'm just hunting down a certain book that I heard rumors of being somewhere here in Ol' Ebonheart. Been looking for it for quite some time now..."
The sentence trails off as her gaze is drawn again to the ring. She sets down her book softly on the table. Wordlessly, she reaches forward, plucks the ring neatly from Walks-with-Stars' hand and examines it again for a moment before putting it on the ring finger of her unbloodied hand.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars looks at the dunmer woman with suspicion as she take the ring from his hand and say quite harshly :
"I don't think we know each other well enough for you to just take things from me without asking anything, and I've hurt some for less than that."
He then listen to the bartender's answer and get lost in his thoughts, he is no fighter and probably wouldn't really have his place among their ranks, and if nothing else is avaible... He doesn't particularly want to leave Morrowind as he consider it his country but maybe it is now the time to see how things go elsewhere, maybe Cyrodill is warmer at this time of the year, and maybe they would have some jobs for a wandering argonian...
Maybe the other persons at the table will have any plans ? He decide to just go ahead and ask, what can he lose ?
"Well I don't think I qualify as a "fighter" so that's probably not for me, do any of you have any other plans ?"

[Vonfossen]

I'm sorry, Nattravnen, I broke the continuity. I was working on this for the past 40 minutes and I just refreshed. Toadley hit an important plot point. Next time I'll post it in smaller chunks to claim space.

You slip the ring on your finger nonchalantly while WwS stares at you. Being an Argonian, it’s tough to read his expression, but you’re pretty sure he’s looking at you with some combination of anger and confusion. After all, who drops a conversation mid sentence, slips their hand into somebody else's pocket, takes out a ring, inspects it, and puts it all on with nothing more than silent, mindless fixation? Lilith, you do - apparently. It’s as impressive as it is concerning. Your peculiar behavior has seemingly stopped time, eyes on you.

Then, an interesting sensation - you smell smoke. The back of your head begins to itch and your left eye loses focus. Suddenly, with a crushing pain, it happens.

The horrid pain of your mind being torn in two from rear to front hits you and the smell of smoke fills your lungs, the taste of blood in your mouth. You fall to the floor gasping for air as you choke on your bitten-ragged tongue. Those adjacent to your stand, wide eyed in horror as you writhe and gasp for dear life through bloodied teeth. You see the barkeep looking down at you, pity and fear reflects in his eyes. Your vision goes black.

Then you see it. Dark halls expanding into infinite nothingness, illuminated by fire. The deafening screech of bronze and steel crashing down around you. Screaming, the crying of machines, the likes of which you cannot begin to fathom dart before you like minnows before a shark. You feel heavy, as you lie on the ground in this place. Then, you see the hand.

The hand scrapes across the ground, digging into the unnatural flooring, it drags a ragged torso towards you. It speaks sorrowfully, disapprovingly in a language you cannot understand. Scrape by scrape, it moves towards you. It is heavy, you are heavy. You are paralyzed, all you can do is scream.

You come to. Your finger nothing more than a twisted sack of shattered bones, your left hand scraped bloody, your right shoulder completely dislocated. In your last ounce of strength, you ripped the ring off your hand, throwing it across the room. You struggle to breathe in your own blood on the ground as the patrons scream and run out of the establishment. You faint. All those around you are stunned in terror.

No more than seconds after the last patron exits the building, the door whips open and two robed figures step inside, leaving the door ajar. Engrossed in thought, they have a calm talk as they walk about the establishment.
“Cylus, I told you that it was due to appear in this city.”
“Sera, you misunderstand this one. This one was merely saying that we were not likely to catch it in time.”
“I had to dispel my own magicka sight to prevent myself from getting blinded. I assure you, it is here, in this establishment, at this place and -”
He stops.

He gazes to the corner of the room and holds out his hand, the tables, chairs, shattered glassware, and refuse drift apart with a boring low drone. He flicks his finger, and the ring flies at him. He catches it. His eyes widen.
“The gem, it’s missing.”
“Sera, we never had any confirmation that the gem would be attached. It still may be functioning.”
“Of course it’s functioning, or it wouldn’t arrive here, Cylus. Nevermind. Let’s get this back to the hall and contain -“
A cough echoes in otherwise silent tavern. His head ratchets slowly around to face a semiconscious Lilith, lying on the ground. She managed to roll onto her side and cough out the blood and puke.
“Are you alive?” The mage asks as if he is seriously looking for an answer.
“You’re not supposed to be alive.” The khajit adds, concerned. He whips out a scroll and begins taking notes on Lilith’s condition. The two men remove their hoods.

A balding breton man with a combover and a tattered Khajit stand before you. The khajit, unamused, uncorks and shoves a potion into Lilith’s mouth. She’s still grounded and winded, but conscious and can communicate somewhat.
The breton scans the group: “How did you find this ring?”

[Casimir]

"I assume that was a healing tonic you fed her?" Markan says with a look of worry on his face as he glances down at the Ashlander.

After a few moments Markan refils his pipe and kicks his feet back up onto the table and speaks to the duo again.

"To answer your question Outlander, when the barmaid came to refill our drinks about half an hour ago, the ring was underneath Makela's cup." Markan says plainly giveing a nod to the Ork woman.

"Other than questioning her about where it came from there's not much else I believe we'll be able to tell you."

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars, completely taken away by the events, start to take an agressive position toward the two persons who just came in and take out the dagger he hid in his boot then shout :
"What's happening ?! What does she have and what did you gave her ?! And finally who are you ?!"
He seems completely on his guard and afraid of what's happening, mainly because he doesn't understand one bit of it.

[Vonfossen]

"I assume that was a healing tonic you fed her?" Markan says with a look of worry on his face as he glances down at the Ashlander.

After a few moments Markan refils his pipe and kicks his feet back up onto the table and speaks to the duo again.

"To answer your question Outlander, when the barmaid came to refill our drinks about half an hour ago, the ring was underneath Makela's cup." Markan says plainly giveing a nod to the Ork woman.

"Other than questioning her about where it came from there's not much else I believe we'll be able to tell you."

"You assume correct" said the Khajit, kneeling down and rotating Lilith's face, peeling her eyelid back only to look somewhat surprised that her eyes haven't ruptured "A simple one made from marshmerrow and corkbulb root. It won't have her springing back to life, but she's definitely not dying." As it takes effect, you can hear the popping sound of her joint working it's way back into place, causing her to make a slightly audible grunt. Her ring finger spins on its' hand as it puts itself back together.

"And so it just appeared out of thin air, here, of all places? A week behind schedule?" The fair complexioned Breton mumbled, hand to chin.


Walk-with-stars, completely taken away by the events, start to take an agressive position toward the two persons who just came in and take out the dagger he hid in his boot then shout :
"What's happening ?! What does she have and what did you gave her ?! And finally who are you ?!"
He seems completely on his guard and afraid of what's happening, mainly because he doesn't understand one bit of it.

The Khajit stares through you, understanding yet disappointed. "You wouldn't explain even if this one were to tell you. We're with the mages guild and we're not here to kill you. Happy?" He says this, slapping Lilith's face while looking up at WwS.

Still on the floor, Lilith regains consciousness, covered in a copious amount of her own blood as the barservant scurries back with a tub of detergent.

[Nattravnen]

Still keeping his dagger in hand but somehow a little bit reassured, W-w-s try to judge the two mages wondering if he can trust them. Coming to the conclusion that the fact that he trust them or not is probably irrelevant since they could probably just kill him when they want without any form of resistance, he put the dagger back in his boot and say :
”What is that ring and why did it did that to her ?"

[Toadly]

"Nnnngggg..." A weary groan slips out of Lilith's mouth as she props herself up on her elbows. Blood drips from her chin and coats her mouth, the all too familiar metallic taste and accompanying pain only adding to her newfound crappy mood.
She cracks her neck loudly, looks at the man standing above her and spits out a clump of blood onto his shoulder. Bad aim, it didn't get in his eyes.
"What in f@cking Oblivion was that?" Her tone was full of indignation at the men who were obviously connected to that damned circle of metal, but the genuine, enthusiatic curiosity in her voice was obvious.

[Dragonne Papre]

In light of recent events, Makela retracted her previous doubts about the ring. It was definitely bad news, to put things lightly.

As the Ashlander woman had collapsed, Makela shot up from her seat in one swift movement. Any attempt to stay reasonably calm failed as the situation of the knocked out Dunmer became somewhat more apparent. Still, the stanger's potion seemed to have helped considerably, since Lilith was at the very least presently conscious. With a few long strides, the Orc loved up to the side of the wounded, and wordlessly cursed herself for not remembering her mother's lessons better. For now, all she could do was to offer am outstretched hand.
"Are you... okay? Do you need help to get up?"
Makela addressed Lillith, with a question that would sound stupid, had it not been the first to leap to mind.


I'm leaving for a vacation today, and I'll be away for about a week. Now, I'll still be able to read and post, though probably not a lot. I'm just letting you all know, so that if I'm absent for a longer time than normal, you know the reason. If I'm slowing the rest of you down, just continue with Makela on autopilot.

[Toadly]

Lilith lets out a snort of laughter, blowing a small spray of blood out onto her blouse. She looks down with a sigh at the mess she had become, then looks up at the orc.
"Yeah, I feel fantastic," she says sarcastically, but takes the outstretched hand and struggles to her feet, stumbling a bit before catching herself on the back of a chair. The grimace on her face softens as she regains her bearings. "... Thanks," she says with a sideways look. Her voice is slightly begrudging, but the gratitude is sincere. Such warmth from someone during her suddenly crappy day is most welcome, even if she isn't used to it.
She turns, less shaky then a moment ago, to face the newly arrived mage duo with a curious, furious fire in her eyes. "Start talking. What the hell did I just see? Who in Oblivion was that?"

[Toadly]

No worries, just pitch in when/if you can! I'm honestly enjoying fleshing out the RP in all this and taking the campaign slow at first, it gets us time to get a feel for the rest of the party :D

[Nattravnen]

Have a nice holiday ! Just answer when you can, and if the DM wants to move the plot forward I'm pretty sure he'll do it !

[Vonfossen]

The Breton holds the ring up to inspect it under the chandelier, he says calmly: “I’m not at the liberty to discuss what this - wait!”
His head whips back down and he locks eyes with a freshly upright Lilith as he tightly clenches the ring into his palm, his assistant stands ready with pen in hand. “What do you mean ‘see’? Did you ‘see’ something? What did you -”

“YOU!” the barkeep interrupts, his demeanor turned violent “I REMEMBER YOU!”
He stomps towards the duo. “I told you to never show your face again. I am not letting you practice your wicked magicks on my patrons!”
“I offered them an opportunity and they took it, just because you don’t understand me doesn’t mean I’m in the wrong.” The breton replies, clearly agitated yet composed.
“You stuck their arms together!”
“-and put them back. Besides, I am providing them with some much needed income and treatment in exchange for assisting me in advancing restoration practices. I mean, they were just ebony miners - they were going to hurt themselves eventually anyway…” his speech trails off.
He stares through the barkeep into the floor behind him.
His assistant catches the event: “Ah.”
“17 people.” The breton makes commentary.
“No, 13 people. 17 if we don’t hurry.” The Khajit’s face grows stern.

You see a furious assortment of silent mouthing as they about-face. The khajit takes off with blinding speed. His hood flies to cover his face and the door shrieks open before him, he takes off down the street faster than a cliff racer in hunt, a strong gust pulls at his wake.
The breton puts his hood up more elegantly and says “The four of you, we need your assistance and witness accounts. Come to the mages guildhall on main street tomorrow morning. We will talk then.” he walks out and the door slams shut behind him. You do not hear another footstep.

The barkeep lets out a hopeless sigh. “You may as well go home to your dorms for the night. I’ve got a bunk the bloodied lass can use - I don’t feel right kicking a wounded girl out onto the streets. I’ll tally your tab up later... I just want to close down and go to bed. You can pay it later. Please go.” He begins silently putting the chairs and tables back where they belong, the barservant is furiously scrubbing blood out of the floor. Lililth is quietly pressured upstairs, the rest of you feel the cold night greet you. It’s time to go home.

Your dorms aren’t impressive. You get a bunk and a lockbox. There is a gathering lounge and a kitchen. It’s not much, but you feel comfortable here. You have a few friends and life isn’t bad. A few guards more than usual loiter the premises.

Moving wouldn’t really be difficult as you don’t have much to move. You started thinking about your things. What did you put in that lockbox anyway?

Thanks for the head's up, I appreciate it. I promise not to crash you into anything.

[Nattravnen]

Walking-with-stars got to his couch tired, it had been quite an evening, between the fight that almost broke, the dunmer woman who almost died and the mages who came out of nowhere, and at the center of all of this, this strange ring... There was also the fact that he would soon be out of work but that was almost the nicest thing that happened to him today.
Well he would probably have to be on the roads again, he thought about his old equipement, his travelling bag he stuffed with all he could sell at times, the lockpicks he used to get in as much as to get out, this mediocre sword he traded for some food he stole with a beggar, but he actually hoped he would never have to use it, it happened in the past and if he always succeded in getting out alive it wasn't sure he still would. No he really prefered to rely on his dagger and the fact that the people he attacked weren't aware of it until it was too late. There was also his old armor, he got it from some guy who claimed he was part of the thieves guild after he helped him to get out of a town. In a dark shade of leather it was supposed to help him hide, but he mostly hoped it was still at his size.
Of course he also had a few other clothes and a bedroll, as well as a gourd and enough to buy some foods, the basics of someone who travel.
Before going to sleep he looked at his amulette, it was a gift from his old master and bear the Hlaalu symbol since it was the house he was in. It was probably his most precious possession, the symbol of his liberty and a memory of his master, the one who taugh him how to read and write, how to count and how to survive by himself in the wild. It was a good man and he promised to himself that he wouldn't let anybody insult him, not anymore...

I hope I didn't took too many things, I didn't really knew how much you wanted us to have so I just took what I think a basic traveller/adventurer would have. But if anything is too much I'll just remove it !

I completely rewrote the text since I wasn't happy with it, but I kept the exact same possession and just added more details

[Vonfossen]

Sorry for the ambiguity, that's exactly what I was looking for. Good selection, thanks.

[Casimir]

As Markan enters the dorm and heads to his bunk, he finds himeself thinking back on the duo they met in the Tavern and the strange pain ring they seem so captivated with. What would the Mage's guild interest be in such an item?

Shakeing his head ruefully,he finds a sad irony in the fact that after years of travelling and months of working in a ebony mine, a magic rings just shows up out of nowhere to their group. He had always wondered what it would be like to find some forgotten magic relic in a ruin or tomb somewhere, but he never expected one to appear on his table in a taver of all places. Truely the ancestor spirits must be laughing at him now.

Reaching his lockbox, he opens it up to check over his belongings. The lagest objects inside where his backpack and spellbook cantaining his notes and musings on restoration magic. He set's down his journal on top of it and looks over his spare set of travelling clothes. They'd served him well for years, especially the Thick hooded cloth robe and scarf he used to protect himself from the sandstorms and rain. His Bedroll was tucked underneath his bunk.

The only other item of note inside were a pair of steel knuckle dusters Markan had gotten as a gift from an old mined who leg he healed after if had been crushed in a cave-in. Apparently he had been quite the pugilist back in the day, had even taught him a thing or two when he gave Markan his old weapons.

The only piece of jewelry Markan owns is a house telvanni signet right he has strung around his neck, and 15 Drakes to his name.

(Edited to inclued how much money I resonable have and included a bedroll)

[Dragonne Papre]

Makela trudged back to the dorm. Saying it was "modest" might be generous, but right now it offered all she needed. Sleep, and shelter. Or at the very least the illusion thereof, since dangerous rings and mages could apparently appear out of nowhere these days. She didn't like it, not one bit. Mysteries were not an important aspect of the young Orc's life, and she wasn't going to let it become one. Reaching her bunk, she practically collapsed onto the bed, harder than usual. Her muscles were no more sore than after any other workday, her body no more aching, but the night had still been supremely exhausting.

If the mine really was closing down, she'd be out of work. And that meant moving, again. Not that she was particularly opposed to a change of scenery, as it had never been her intention to stay here for longer then she had to, but she was opposed to leaving so suddenly, and without significant funds, or another job to go to. She regretted not signing up with a crew in Blacklight's harbour while she had the chance. And she had no real longing for the sea, just the places one could reach by it.

Makela twisted herself into a more comfortable position, before going completely still. Arms and legs growing heavy, then faintly numb, as she tried to become completely serene. Easier to fall asleep this way. But before she could find sleep, she decided to take mental inventory of the contents of her lockbox. She'd open it and inspect it in the morning, but she knew well enough what was in there. Inventory check was a weekly routine.

The contents were austere, and rather unexciting. A Legionary's shortsword that had been handed down. A quilted jacket (the Breton who had sold it to her in Narsis had called it a "gambeson", whatever that was), that was just barely large enough. It had cost her more than it should, considering it was basically just padding. And entirely unused. Other than that, her burlap sac lay there, as well as some dried, cured meat and a few drakes. A few assorted objects lined the bottom, like a modest knife, but noting really worthy of note.

The only truly exotic item was a crude amulet, quite literally home-made, constructed from treated wood and brass wire. Small markings Makela thought were mostly Daedric letters had been carved into it, and painted blue for emphasis. She had no idea what it meant, aside from the fact that it was at the very least supposed to be a token of her cult.

But that was a memory not worth reliving, especially now, when sleep was more significant.

[Vonfossen]

You awake to the harsh ringing of clanging pans, time for breakfast. As you get up and ready your things, you realize that it is much too dark out still for your normal shift. You’re hit by an ache as you realize you’ve only slept a few hours at best. The pans keep clanging. A mild commotion ensues as all the doors begin opening, shouts range from “shut up down there, it’s my day off”, to “I have at least another hour, who’s on duty today?!”, but the clanging continues. Finally somebody, a sturdy, solemn faced imperial man walks upstairs and begins making his rounds. The ruckus cuts out, you don’t recognize this man. Everybody stands in the hallway and stares at him silently, immediately catching the mood. He quietly says: “There is an important meeting in the messhall, please.”

As you file downstairs, you see a few wounded men, caked in dust looking down at their empty table. There is an announcement. The solemn imperial man introduces himself as a member of the Old Ebonheart mining committee. The Drelyn ebony mine collapsed last night as the night crew was excavating, killing 15 of your coworkers. You didn’t know them too well as they were on opposite shifts from you, but grieving can be felt in the messhall.

“The Delyn laborer dorms will be shut down as of next Sundas. You have a week to find new work and lodging. We will assist you best we can, and -” his voice is muffled by harmonious discontent.
“YOU N’WAH!” a random ashlander gets up and charges the man from across the room. The door bursts open and a guard moves to block him, striking him down with a wooden cudgel. He writhes on the ground, muttering profanities. An orc pulls out a flask from his boot and begins drinking. Some khajit starts crying.

The imperial man, looking disappointed, leaves the room with guards in tow. The orc shrugs, puts away his flask and gets to preparing breakfast for those with an appetite.”Well, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Who here wants eggs?” He says with a forced smile.

The three of you drudge out of the dorms silently as the sun rises, unable to fall back asleep. You walk on main street to the mages guild headquarters, which takes about 15 minutes. You arrive to spot Lilith standing in front of the building, looking far better than before. Maybe the mage will have work for you?

You open the large, heavy door of the mages guild and step inside. The receptionist, a spiky haired dunmer woman, is clearly busy writing explosive scrolls with a wicked grin on her face. The smell of shalk resin fills the air. The gradually acknowledges your existence after tossing two scraps of paper into a wastebin behind her, causing them to explode on impact with a hiss. She looks up to you three, unamused. “It’s rare that we get visitors this early in the morning. And four, very poor looking people at that. How can I help you?”

Thanks for the items, you're welcome to put them down under your "Property and Belongings" section on page 1 of your char sheet. I was away for the weekend but I'll get back to daily posting now.

[Nattravnen]

When Walk-with-stars leaved this morning, he putted on his armor and left his miner's outfit in the box, which he didn't locked, he probably wouldn't need it anymore. He took all his belongings with him then left. The armor hided most of his blue scales and only his head was uncovered, but a hood was attached behind the neck. He straped his short sword to his buckle for good measure but kept his dagger hided, as was his hlaalu necklace. When he finished to prepare himself, he couldn't help but think that it had been a year since the last time he was clothed like that and ready to go on the roads, a small smile started to mark his face as he felt truly complete again, he probably wouldn't admit it but he missed this life, mining was good and stable, but it lacked the salt that is the adventurer life.

He also smiled when he saw that the dunmer woman was in good shape and seemed healed from her injuries from yesterday and he greeted her well before they entered the guild.

Once inside he couldn't help but be amused by the receptionist, mages almost seemed to be another race, always planning to do something bad but with truly good intentions, most of the times anyway.
"We were summoned yesterday" He answered when she asked. "By a Khajit and a Breton that I would like to describe as strange but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't understand why I say that."

No problem, if you don't advance the plot we'll just banter between ourselves in the meantime I guess !

[Toadly]

Lilith collapses into her bed and falls asleep immediately. Her day had started out do well, and ended with such a horrible bang that she just couldn't be bothered with anything at all.
Dawn comes and Lilith's eyes spring open, wide awake. She feels much better after a nice deep sleep, strangely so in fact. That potion really packed a punch.
She gets to her feet and stretches with many groans, working out all the kinks leftover from the fit brought on by the ring. 'What the hell was that?' She thinks to herself, mind racing as she considers the possibilities. Being a scholar and raised by a former member of the mages guild, her curiosity was of course piqued, despite the hell she went through to pique it.
Her bag and book are lying by the bed where she had dropped it the night before. It contained everything to her name, besides whatever book she was currently studying. She had a spare blouse, which she promptly changed into from her other bloodstained one, as well as several sheets of rolled up parchment, some carcoal sticks for writing, 2 minor magicka replenishing potions, and 98 drakes in a pouch at the bottom, leftover from the last book she sold. She had been fairly minimalistic since parting ways with her father a year ago, making money by searching out rare books, bartering for them, reading through them, and reselling them.
Lilith washes up, grabs her things, and walks downstairs, grabbing a quick bite at the bar before leaving, and thanking the bartender on the way out. She runs into the workers from the night before, who she had taken a bit of a liking to after the events that took place, and joins them on their way to the mages guild.

[Vonfossen]

She looks up at the argonian with a mixed look of smug and disbelief. “So he didn’t even give you his name? Typical…” She ponders it for a moment, realizing that the fact that you don’t even know his name means you’re probably not here to heckle him for political reasons. “Hmm, yes. Ok. Let me page him.”

She sticks her two fingers to her temple, her eyebrows furrow. She’s taken aback for a moment. She tries again and nods. “The Wizard is still asleep, quite so. I accidentally entered a dream of his, not pleasant. However, the cat is in and he validates your legitimacy. The two of them were apparently out late last night piecing together some peasants who got caught under some rocks somewhere. He says that he’s busy. You’re free to roam the hall until they get back in. Most of our members are in and already at their studies. We have books to read, potions if you’re looking to trade, enchanted weapons and… scrolls.” She looks up, wriggling her eyebrows with a grin as if the best way to attract customers is by acting goofy.
She looks surprised for a moment and says “The cat just paged me, you can ‘put some stuff on my tab if they need it’, he says. Is there anything I can help you find?” Her attitude clearly peaked, anticipating a sale.

Is there anything you’d like?

[Casimir]

Markan speaks up when she asks this "Yes actually, I have some training in restoration magic and was wondering what the requirements to formally join the mage's guild here where? Also could you point out who your Master's in each of the schools of magic are here, especially in Restoration and Mysticism as I am currently studying them?"

Markan thinks for a moment and speaks to her aghain, "If you could point out the relevant sections of your library to me for those schools, and where your shrine to Julianos is that would also be appreciated."

Markar Gives a small bow to the dunmer woman, "But I forget myself Sera, My name is Markan, of House Telvanni. What is your name?"

Question, how does praying to shrines work here, will they give you some kind of blessing or help you recover health or magicka in some way?

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars start to think, he mostly have a careful attitude around magic because he always saw it as something rather instable and not that reliable, but it sure had a lot of advantages and was rather powerful.
"Could you enchant any items I have ? Like to turn invisible or to fly or something like that ? Also do you have some healing tonics ?" He finally asked. If someone else is paying, he might as well get something nice.

[Vonfossen]

Markan speaks up when she asks this "Yes actually, I have some training in restoration magic and was wondering what the requirements to formally join the mage's guild here where? Also could you point out who your Master's in each of the schools of magic are here, especially in Restoration and Mysticism as I am currently studying them?"

Markan thinks for a moment and speaks to her aghain, "If you could point out the relevant sections of your library to me for those schools, and where your shrine to Julianos is that would also be appreciated."

Markar Gives a small bow to the dunmer woman, "But I forget myself Sera, My name is Markan, of House Telvanni. What is your name?"

Question, how does praying to shrines work here, will they give you some kind of blessing or help you recover health or magicka in some way?

"Oh..." she rolls her eyes "It's a Telvanni, so far from his mushroom - the poorest looking one I've seen yet. If you want to join the mages guild, we don't want your kind. If you're looking for a shrine of Julianos to vandalize, there is a cult shrine down the road about a block from here. You can't miss it."
She gives a light sigh, "But you are our honored guests. We have plenty of quality spellbooks in the library down the hall. Don't steal or burn them."
After a moment's pause, she reluctantly says "And the name is Megulyn. It's likely going to be an hour or so until the Wizard is ready to see you."

We'll go with some kind of blessing based on a luck roll, sounds more fun.


Walk-with-stars start to think, he mostly have a careful attitude around magic because he always saw it as something rather instable and not that reliable, but it sure had a lot of advantages and was rather powerful.
"Could you enchant any items I have ? Like to turn invisible or to fly or something like that ? Also do you have some healing tonics ?" He finally asked. If someone else is paying, he might as well get something nice.

She turns to WwS and steps up out of her chair, her figure is short and slender. She looks you up and down, looking over your tattered, black leather armor. She leans down to rub some of the material between her fingers. She replies "I appreciate your spunk. I think invisibility or flight may be out of the question on those things. But, I’ve got an old petty soul gem lying around with the soul of a poor skrib that wouldn’t stop scratching at the side of my house. I can get your boots socketed and perhaps… jumping?”
A spark lights in her eyes, clearly the mark of a first class enchanter “Yeah! Jumping is just about as good as flying! You even get to come back down!” as she tugs WwS’s boots straight off his feet, a confused look on his face as he leans against the table for balance.
She draws a crude chalk circle with some runes in the center of the hallway and lovelessly throws the boots into it. She begins chanting, holding the petty soul gem in one hand. You have a bad feeling about the safety of these boots.
She pauses for a moment, she turns and says: “Oh yeah, this will take about a half hour. The alchemist is in his lab down the hall to the right. It stinks of mucksponge, you can’t miss it.”

[Casimir]

Do guilds here usually have shrines to any of the divines or daedra?

Markan laughs gives the Enchanter a warm smile and replies, "I may hardly have two drakes to my name but I assure you I make up for it in talent! Thank you Megulyn, and don't think I've given up, I'll go inquire around to see if the other guild member need any help while I'm on my way to the library. I'm sure we'll be fast friends you and I. I'll literally grow on you like a fungus! Haahahaha!"

Markan turns to Walk-with-Stars and gives him a hearty pat on the back, "Good initiative my friend, while you're at the alchemist inquire about Magicka potions for me will you? I imagine I'll need the stuff to keep you lot patched up if you end up dreaking your legs in a fall! kekekekek."

With that Markan takes his leave and heads towards the library to study, stopping to talk with anyone on the way to introduce himself and to see if they need help with anything.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars got completely taken aback when the woman took his boots and almost threw him on the ground. When people tried to steal his stuff, they at least had the courtesy to wait for him to sleep or to lay on the ground, too wounded to defend himself. Well at least she is supposed to give it back to him.
He didn't even answered the little taunt from Markan before going, with naked feets, in the direction he was given to find the alchemist.

[Toadly]

Lilith quietly scans the rows of books on the bookshelves scattered about the guildhall, more or less ignoring the receptionist, picking up the important bits of the welcome. She starts to wander off slowly before the exchange between her new acquaintances and the woman ends. There is no need for a woman as minimal as herself to buy anything here, but could probably spend years just reading the hundreds upon hundreds of books strewn about.

A slight commotion snaps her out of her scholarly daydreaming, and she looks over to see the receptionist drawing on the ground excitedly. Dark green eyes roll in their sockets as she steps down the hallway, following the tracks of the others, fingers brushing over book spines as she goes.

A slight grimace crosses her face at Markan's corny chivalry, but she shrugs it off and says, "Come on, let's just find this damned alchemist and figure out what in the oblivion happened last night." She was aching for answers more than the others, as she was the only one who had seen that vision. Her brow furrows as she recalls it, and she picks up the pace, passing the others and turning to look in the specified room.

She knocks on the door frame.

[Vonfossen]

With that Markan takes his leave and heads towards the library to study, stopping to talk with anyone on the way to introduce himself and to see if they need help with anything.

The vast empty guildhall opens before you as you walk down the hallway, the cold morning air circulates the room. It is largely empty, but you enter the library to the familiar, musty smell of books.

The library is empty, but a book on the librarian’s desk catches your eye. “Self Help for the Magically Adept”, it reads. You find yourself curious as to what would classify a self help book to be for somebody who is “Magically Adept”.

After finding a well carved wooden chair, you sink in and take a read. It’s a short book, and you burn through it within a half hour. Fortifying willpower wasn’t supposed to be this easy, you feel a little enlightened, a worthwhile read - you even picked up a new spell.Taking the book back to where you found it on the librarian's desk, you’re greeted by a sharp sneeze and a flicker of tan and orange.

A young Khajit woman is sitting in the librarian’s chair, looking embarrassed.
“I.. uh… thought you could use that.”
A continued silence.
“I… um… wasn’t watching you or anything.”
She reaches towards you and slowly, awkwardly pulls the book away from you.
“Megulyn can be a bitch, really. Yeah..”
Her butt plops back into the chair. Almost as if there was an invisibility whoopee cushion waiting for her, she disappears from sight. The true face of somebody who does not want to be seen.

Mages guild is an imperial organization. They’re quasi-religious, worshipping the nine. Daedra worshipping is considered dangerous or illegal, depending on where you are. Summoning a daedra in town is a crime.


Lilith and WwS go to the alchemist.
Following your nose leads you to the darkest room in the wide hallway of the Old Ebonheart mages guild. Inside you find a small statured bosmer man swirling a vial, it glows with each swish. He looks up to you, pulls his goggles back and gives a flat faced, yet warm greeting:
“Morning to you, strangers. It’s rare that we get outsiders in our lab. Judging by the fact that you made past Megulyn on guard duty, you’re definitely not here to steal anything.”

His leather gloves fly off his hands and thud on the workbench, he leaps up to sit on it with. Collecting his breath and sipping his tea, he states: “Being a major hub, there really isn’t anything I can’t make. And seeing as you’re strutting about with that cat’s coinpurse… there really isn’t anything I can’t sell you. You two must be important or dangerous...”
The realization falls upon him as he starts rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm and greed.
“So, what kind of deal can I make for you today?”

[Casimir]

Markan looks pleased as he glances over at the empty chair? "Why thank you, let me introduce myself Sera. I am named Markan, my associates and I where invited over by a Breton and Male Khajit to help them with some research they're currently working on. Now that I think of it I never caught their names... Anyway since I find myself here I'd like to inquire about joining your guild, Megulyn wasn't very helpful in that requard unfortunately."

"Thank you again for pointing out that book for me. Is their anything I could possibly help you with, maybe in the Library itself?"


OOC: Parish the thought that a Markan would let something like religious differences get inbetween him and Knowledge. Besides he doesn't have anything against the divines. On the Daedra part, I'm not very worried about, It's unlikely I'll be getting into conjuration anytime soon. Question for you though I thought all the spellcasting schools ran off of Willpower to use spells with intellegence determining your mana pool, why is Conjuration and Illusion different in my character sheet? Not that I'm against you running it differently I'd just like to know if that's the case.

Anyway I'm currently making it a goal for my character to gain membership into the Ebonheart Mages guild, at the very least to get himself some regular work now that the mines are closed. I'll be looking for anything to do in the library now that I'm here, and anywhere else in the hall, until the party needs to move on.

[Dragonne Papre]

The smells and impressions of the Mages Guild hit every possible sense, with strange and mostly unfamiliar fragrances. Makela could place a few of them, remembering them from her mother's ingredients, but the vast majority were strange and unfamiliar.

Once inside, she'd taken a passive role, letting the more curious and knowledgeable of her companions talk. The promise of shopping on the Khajiit's tab was intriguing, but a temptation that had to be resisted. The Orc didn't know a lot about the world inside these walls, aside from some poorly remembered alchemy lessons, but she knew that shopping with someone else's coin was just another way to put yourself in debt. Even if she knew what she wanted to get, and she didn't, she wasn't sure if she wanted to owe money or favours to someone she didn't know.

As the others wander off, Makela approaches Megulyn, careful not to provoke the Dunmer. Or, at least, that's the hope. She'd never really had much to do with the guild before, and was not entirely sure of it's function. After a brief moment of hesitation, Makela tapped the receptionist on the shoulder.

"Is there a library for books that aren't about magic? Are there any Orsimer here?"

I'm back from a brief, but lovely, vacation.

[Casimir]

The smells and impressions of the Mages Guild hit every possible sense, with strange and mostly unfamiliar fragrances. Makela could place a few of them, remembering them from her mother's ingredients, but the vast majority were strange and unfamiliar.

Once inside, she'd taken a passive role, letting the more curious and knowledgeable of her companions talk. The promise of shopping on the Khajiit's tab was intriguing, but a temptation that had to be resisted. The Orc didn't know a lot about the world inside these walls, aside from some poorly remembered alchemy lessons, but she knew that shopping with someone else's coin was just another way to put yourself in debt. Even if she knew what she wanted to get, and she didn't, she wasn't sure if she wanted to owe money or favours to someone she didn't know.

As the others wander off, Makela approaches Megulyn, careful not to provoke the Dunmer. Or, at least, that's the hope. She'd never really had much to do with the guild before, and was not entirely sure of it's function. After a brief moment of hesitation, Makela tapped the receptionist on the shoulder.

"Is there a library for books that aren't about magic? Are there any Orsimer here?"

I'm back from a brief, but lovely, vacation.

Welcome back!

[Vonfossen]

"Why thank you, let me introduce myself Sera. I am named Markan, my associates and I where invited over by a Breton and Male Khajit to help them with some research they're currently working on. Now that I think of it I never caught their names... Anyway since I find myself here I'd like to inquire about joining your guild, Megulyn wasn't very helpful in that requard unfortunately."

"Thank you again for pointing out that book for me. Is their anything I could possibly help you with, maybe in the Library itself?"

“Ah, you must be talking about my brother, Cylus and... his master… our master, the... wizard.” Perking up at the thought of her brother only to be let down by the harsh reality of her circumstances, she opens up a little. “Bronius can be.. difficult. At times.” grasping her freudian slip, continuing “He lets me stay here. I’m not very talented.”

A fuzzy hand reaches from the invisibility bubble and grabs a baked ash yam off the filing cabinet to her left, pulling it into the void to become a victim to her stressed binge eating. “This is really all I can do.”

She chews and swallows, the ash yam clearly gone “I appreciate your kindness, but everything here is taken care of except for sweeping, and I was to do that later.” You notice a broom in the corner of the room. After a pause, she continues her unconfident ramble “I don’t think that they’ll let a Telvanni into the guild… at least after what happened last time. Unless you were disowned? Oh-” She stops, catching herself in a panic, certain that she just stumbled onto a rough topic.

Willpower is the most overpowered characteristic in the game, I wanted to give intel and personality more fighting power, and to stick closer to the game. By the way, I’m revamping the rulebook and should release a new version within a month, which I will eventually post on /tg/ and in the wiki. I hope you guys are ok with homebrew, because I’ll need you to alpha test it. I’ve talked with Seht quite a bit back in the days about balancing and bugfixes and I’m pretty into seeing this game continue forward.

Also, for lore-sperging, Telvanni and mages guild are incompatible because they have fundamentally different views on the treatment of knowledge. In Morrowind, being in one gives you a -3 disposition in the other - that’s literally the same as being a vampire to the tribunal temple, they hate your guts.
To the Telvanni, knowledge is power and you hide it well. Power is used to become a god. Telvanni servants worship their respective resident wizard lord, hoping to receive knowledge or power. Telvanni have no regards for ethics, power is law. (See Davinth Fyr)
Mages guild is an educational organization established for the safe practice and study of magic. It encourages the sharing of knowledge. Ethics are everything, law is power. (See Arcane University)

I hope that helps explain why I’m sperging so much about your character being a Telvanni servant. I think it’s a really interesting idea, but you should understand the consequences of your character. I honestly thought of having them attempt to subdue or kill you when you said you were Telvanni, but turned it down for obvious reasons.



"Is there a library for books that aren't about magic? Are there any Orsimer here?"

Tapping Megulyn on the shoulder does nothing to break her from her muttering trance, she seems hellbent on shoving the poor soul of some insect into the flaking, old boots. After a brief moment, she spurts: “No orcs here. Small selection on equipment maintenance in the library. Take your time” and quickly resumes chanting vigorously, almost as if the poor insect made it halfway to the dreamsleeve before being sucked back down again for eternity in a boot.

Stopping, wiping the sweat from her brow, a snotty grin crosses her face. “Take that you little swit!” The boots are tossed to you. Victoriously, she says: “Bring those to the lizard when you have a chance. By the nine, am I good or what?” A sharp thud greets your ears as her butt makes contact with her chair, back to writing scrolls.

Good to have you back.

[Casimir]

A grimace forms on Markan's face as he replises back to the Khajit woman, "I was never disowned no, I was born into the house and trained in restoration by my mother and father. I ended up leaving... oh two decades ago now to explore around morrowind finding odd jobs now and them. I never quite liked how house Telvanni was run and was interested in seeing a new perspective. I'd like the chance to prove myself the exception at the very least."

Markan waves his hand as if to clear the air, "Ah but enough with bad memories, I never did catch your name Sera, and don't worry I'll take care of the sweeping." Markan gives her a grin as he moves over to the broom and starts cleaning the floor.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars coughed as he enter the room of the alchemist, his poor nose wasn't ready to face such an attack. He putted his hand before his face in the vain hope of stopping a little bit of the smell, then turn to the bosmer :
"Well I *cough*... Oblivion... I'd like to know if you had some healing tonics or something close enough to heal someone, and also some magicka potions."
He then prayed silently that whatever the bosmer was making wasn't explosive and that he wasn't putted away from the rest of the guild because of previous accidents.

Welcome back, nice to know your vacation was good !
Also I absolutely have no problem with homebrew as long as the changes are made clear so that we don't have surprises as we play.

[Dragonne Papre]

"Thanks".
Makela tied to sound genuine, but she suspected the enchanter wasn't paying attention. But she shouldn't complain. The receptionist might have been rude, but she had at the very least answered clearly.

But isn't this how mages usually are? The question was unspoken, but it led to a further conundrum.
Are eccentric persons more prone to study magic, or does magic somehow cause eccentricities? After very brief contemplation, Makela decided that the answer was unknowable, or at least not one she'd care to find out. There wasn't anything wrong with magic, it was just one of those crafts best left for other people.

And now she stood there, carrying a pair of boots with a newly infused insect soul. The boots looked the same, as far as she could tell, but they were apparently magical jumping boots now.
Resisting the urge to throw them onto the ground, just to see if they'd bounce back up, Makela decided that she might as well go give them back to the Argonian.

Boots in hand, she walked down the hall in search of the alchemist's lab.

[Vonfossen]

"Ah but enough with bad memories, I never did catch your name Sera, and don't worry I'll take care of the sweeping."
"O-oh.. I'm sorry, it's Casper. Thank you."
Her voice is sincere, but it's hard to tell how thankful she is due to the fact that she's invisible. Somewhere between boredom, curiosity, and appreciation for her newfound fellow misfit, she continues prodding into the topic:
"Are your parents ok with you wandering around Morrowind? I know mine wouldn’t be.. If I could find them…”
Walking onto her own landmine, she seemingly drops the topic.


Boots in hand, she walked down the hall in search of the alchemist's lab.

"Well I *cough*... Oblivion... I'd like to know if you had some healing tonics or something close enough to heal someone, and also some magicka potions."

Makela follows the pungent smell of burning hair and mucksponge into the lab where she is greeted by the sight of her two allies being swindled by a crafty bosmer.
“This healing tonic comes in a beautiful glass vial, a collectors item, and is only slightly spoiled - causing glowing sweat for a few minutes, but all other effects are as they intended to be. That’s correct! This one doesn’t even cause a crippling weakness to fire like the last one I showed you. But wait! If you buy now, I’ll include an invisibility potion stored inside of an old jam jar. It has the consistency of jam! Spread it on a sweetroll and sneak it past the guards! I’ll even give a discount to… blah blah”

Makela tunes him out as she notices the presence of a tall Khajit behind her.
“Ahh, this one appreciates your timely arrival.” He turns to the little elf. “Faragon! Top shelf! These people are trusted allies.”
The bosmer stops talking to breathe, bites his tongue and makes a tiny groan. He hops up on a small ladder and brings down two average looking potions, stating:
“Two standard restore health and restore magicka, each.”
Before WwS or Lilith have much of an idea of what’s going on, they both find themselves holding four vials.

The Khajit turns to address the group of three:
“The Wizard is ready, we can grab the Telvanni who is hitting on my sister and go up whenever you see fit. Or, perhaps you would you like something else while we’re down here? Get acquainted with more of the guild members? You may need their help soon. This one would be pleased to furnish more provisions, the Wizard will be needing your assistance greatly in due time.”
He sports a somewhat well intended, wry grin.
"Before this one forgets the formalities, this one's name is Cylus, Assistant to Guild Wizard Bronius Elista. And your names are?"

Sorry for the late response, everyone. I wanted to make sure that everybody most people had a chance to post.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars take his boots from Makela when he see her coming and thanks her for the trouble, then put them on, before worrying about their now supposed magic effect.
After that he turn to the khajit to listen to him while carefuly putting the potions in his bag in a way that should prevent them from breaking too easily.
Once he finished he stood up to look the khajit in the eyes. What could they want from them ? Two of his companions seemed to have at least basic knowledge of magic but he didn't and neither seemed Makela, truly he was intrigued by all of this, and kind of worried he had to admit. But there was no better way to sort all of this out than to ask them directly. Pondering all of this he almost got lost in his thoughts, now back in reality he decided to answer the Khajit :
"My name is Walk-with-stars, and I am truly honored to meet you good sir. I would like to thank you for the gift you gave us. I am eager to know what *The Wizard* has to tell us."

[Casimir]

Markan gives a short laugh and replies back to Casper whiles sweeping, "They approved whole heartedly actually, my father had actually aspired to be an aventurer in his younger days, but had given up on his dream to work on advancing his standing in house Telvanni. As soon as I announced that I was going to travel around morrowind he broke out in a grin, threw his old backpack at me and said, "Go and do me pround son, and don't look back." My mother worries after me though so I send them letters from time to time to let them know I'm still alive, when I have the coin to do so anyway."

Markan pauses for a moment and stops sweeping to look over at Casper, "Where you and Cylus orphans, you mentioned not being able to find your parents? How did you and Cylus end up with someone like Bronius anyway?

[Toadly]

Lilith could do nothing but frown as the small man assaulted them with his presence. A look of relief washes over her face as the Khajit pops in the room, sparing them further molestation from the elf's verbal economic tentacles.
The potions given to her are swiftly stored in her bag, accompanied by an attempted grateful smile.
"Thanks, saves a few coins I guess," she responds to Cylus. "My name's Lilith." She pauses, then turns to Makela and Walk-with-Stars. "Um... Actually I'm pretty sure I never actually introduced myself properly before, did I? It's been kind of a crappy past half day." Her slim fingers tap ever so lightly on the spine of the book she held under her arm. "Guess we've sorta fallen into whatever this mess is together."
A dark red ponytail swishes as Lilith turns to the robed cat expectantly.

[Vonfossen]

"Where you and Cylus orphans, you mentioned not being able to find your parents? How did you and Cylus end up with someone like Bronius anyway?”

Her invisibility fades away and you can see her clearly. Looking somewhere between touched and envious, she says: “That’s... nice. Cherish your parents.” She’s deep into a book.
“Oh” she continues after realizing that she glazed over your question, again. Putting away her book, she mutters: “We’re not… Orphans... We knew our parents. We were sold. To the Telvanni.”

Making eye contact with you, her dark hazel-green eyes showing no resentment “We’re twins, Cylus and I. We grew up on a saltrice plantation in eastern Morrowind, our parents were slaves. The farm fell on hard times and we were sold to a Telvanni kwama mine. We didn’t see the sun for months at a time.” Slightly shaking, she pushes herself to continue the story “Cylus… he just got it. Suddenly, one evening, or maybe it was a morning, I don’t know - he just got it. He saw a guard casting an alteration spell and he just did it. Like that. It drew attention. They were afraid of him, they tried to… kill me. They wanted to use me to rein him in.”

She pulls her collar sideways a bit to reveal a large scar running down her right shoulder. Pulling it back up, her facial expression grows dire: “He snapped, broke out of his manacles and choked two men to death. We fled. We all fled. I woke up on a bed of a sympathetic commoner in firewatch, my wound healed. The door swung open, there stood Bronius. It was as though he could detect extraordinary talent from leagues away. All he said was ‘Come to Ebonheart, work with me’, and Cylus just nodded. We were on a boat within the hour.”

After a sigh and a brief pause, she continues: “We’ve been here for years. This invisibility gag is all I can do. But, Cylus has changed since then. He’s started talking as though he’s from Elsweyr, it’s a fake accent. It’s both confusing and sad when it breaks, like he’s looking for something in himself. Bronius keeps him busy… with what I’m not sure. But Cylus thinks highly of him.”

Endearingly, she says “Don’t take it personal if Cylus resents you… he blames himself for everything. He may project his history onto you. Lay low, and I’ll try to make sure that you’re taken care of around here.”

You hear a polite knock on the doorframe and turn to Cylus, “Telvanni, the Wizard is ready. Come with this one.” You rejoin with the rest of the group on your way up the staircase.


"My name is Walk-with-stars, and I am truly honored to meet you good sir. I would like to thank you for the gift you gave us. I am eager to know what *The Wizard* has to tell us."

“This one appreciates your apprehension. We’re in the business of artifact hunting, often through contract with the imperial cult. We often acquire and dispose of dangerous artifacts. The Wizard will tell you more.” He says, speaking highly and enthusiastically, cheekbones sky-high.


"Guess we've sorta fallen into whatever this mess is together."

“A mess? No. An opportunity? Yes, as this one likes to think it. Come, let us not keep The Wizard waiting. Let us get the answers you came here for.” Expression tightening slightly, you can tell that running late on ‘The Wizard’ is a grand offense.

You three follow him out the room, past the library as he summons Markan, and up the stairs. You enter a large study room with a singular desk facing toward you, bookshelves line the walls. There at the center of it all, you see Bronius seated at the desk fixated on the ring. Cylus coughs, snapping him out of it. Superfluously, almost rehearsed, he says: “Many thanks and appreciations for coming in to assist us. You’re doing a good service. I’m terribly sorry about the wait, Cylus and I spent much of last evening piecing miners back together after our run in with you. I take it that Cylus has already taken care of introductions, so we’ll cut to the meat of this situation.”

Taking a moment to move out of his rehearsed greeting, he continues an expression of grave concern: “This is an incredibly dangerous,powerful artifact of non-daedric origin. Similar to daedric artifacts, it often relocates itself. However, it relocates itself out of mere chance, not out of will. It can land in anybody’s hands, that is precisely what makes it so dangerous. We were lucky to be able to divine its location and be tasked with its retrieval. We need to act quick or else it may vanish from us again, leaving us all to unforeseeable danger.”

“Before I get into specifics, I would like an account from all nearby parties recalling what happened when Lilith here put the ring on. How did she behave? Do you remember anything, Lilith? You mentioned seeing something, what did you see?” He scans your group, impatiently.

[Casimir]

Markan's thoughts are heavy are he follows along after Cylus, he wasn't expecting to find out Casper and he were former slaves. He thinks over what he can do about this new information before he's broken out of his musings by Bronius asking them for a recounting of the rings effects. Turning to his companions for a moment he confers with them about what happened after Lilith put on the ring.

OOC: I'd say something along the lines that she fainted after putting on the ring and started screaming soon afterwords as her hand twisted on itself before she regained her senses for a moment and took off the ring then threw it away before loseing consiousness again, does anyone have anything else they'd want to add before we give our report to Bronius?

Investigate a saltrice plantation in eastern Morrowind for Casper and Cylus, looking for any signs of their parents, Might be able to get them out a slavery if their still alive. Look into the Telvanni kwama mine they where sold to, possibly kill the overseer of operations there and get him replaced.

[Dragonne Papre]

Makela followed Cylus through the Guild and up the stairs to the mysterious mage were looking for.
Hearing Bronius mention introductions, she remembered that she'd forgotten to introduce herself to the Khajiit, and cursed her absent mind. Not wanting to make a bad first impression worse, she decided to remedy it immediately.
Directing herself towards the mage, she spoke:

"I think I might have forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Makela gra-Voltha".

She was about to follow up her introduction with a brief account of what she'd seen that evening, brief mostly because she hadn't really understood much of what was happening, when she noticed that Markan was indicating that he wanted to talk to her. Flashing a brief smile towards Bronius, as if to say that she was sorry for making the mage wait, she turned herself towards her companions.

"Can't we just each tell him what we saw?"

Should have been there for making introductions, sorry. I just plain forgot to check back in on the thread.

[Casimir]

Makela followed Cylus through the Guild and up the stairs to the mysterious mage were looking for.
Hearing Bronius mention introductions, she remembered that she'd forgotten to introduce herself to the Khajiit, and cursed her absent mind. Not wanting to make a bad first impression worse, she decided to remedy it immediately.
Directing herself towards the mage, she spoke:

"I think I might have forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Makela gra-Voltha".

She was about to follow up her introduction with a brief account of what she'd seen that evening, brief mostly because she hadn't really understood much of what was happening, when she noticed that Markan was indicating that he wanted to talk to her. Flashing a brief smile towards Bronius, as if to say that she was sorry for making the mage wait, she turned herself towards her companions.

"Can't we just each tell him what we saw?"

Should have been there for making introductions, sorry. I just plain forgot to check back in on the thread.

OOC: I'm prompting everyone to chime in since Vonfossen left the scene open ended for us to describe to them, if anyone has anything to add go ahead, I'm not stopping you or anything.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars spend some times to think about the events of last night leaning back against a wall, it was quite agitated and a lot of things happened. Once he reviewed all of the relevant things to tell he got up to get closer to the rest of the group and answered :
"Well I didn't saw a lot, the ring appeared out of nowhere, then those Dres merchants wanted to take it but I don't think they knew it was magic, only that it could be worth a few drakes. Then I decided to put it in my pocket but Lilith decided to take it back from me. Next thing I know she's on the ground screaming in pain as her hand twist in strange ways, then she threw the ring away and that's when you appeared."
W-w-s looks genuily sorry to not be able to say more about it, and hope that it will still be enough for this strange breton and his Khajiit assistant.

[Toadly]

Yeah... sorry about that. I honestly don't know what came over me, I'm not a pickpocket usually." Lilith bows slightly in apology towards Walks-with-Stars with a sheepish, embarrassed look before turning back to the Khajit. "I just felt this... urge to grab the ring and put it on. I mean I'm usually pretty curious about things, especially stuff that appears out of nowhere, but I'm not a thief..." It just hit her that she stole something from the first people she had talked to in weeks; she shifts her weight uncomfortably and continues.
"I saw the commotion between these three and those merchants, and I thought it was refreshing to see some people putting those disgusting, entitled city elves in their place. I wanted to burn them to a crisp but that guy made a fool of himself easily enough." Her fist turns white as she grips her book tightly, containing her rage at the thought of those house born idiots while keeping her expression relatively clear. "... anyways."
She goes on to recount her vision as best as she can, but it's a little blurry.
"So... what the hell was that last night." It was less of a question, and more of a demand.

[Nattravnen]

W-w-s smile at her at the best of his capacity, trying not to show his teeth too much as he learned that it could be intimidating for some to have a pack of razor like teeth in front of them, and say to her :
"Don't worry I understood that you weren't really yourself when you did that so I don't take it badly, in the futur tho it would be preferable if you asked me before taking my stuff." He laughed as he said that, to stress that it was a joke and that there's no hard feelings.

[Vonfossen]

"I think I might have forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Makela gra-Voltha".
“Pleasure to have your acquaintance, Makela. I’m Wizard Bronius of the Ebonheart Mage’s Guild and this is my assistant, Cylus. You seem the dependable sort, it’s good to have you.”


"So... what the hell was that last night." It was less of a question, and more of a demand.
The Wizard listens to your accounts, gradually becoming fully fixated on the ring on his desk. Cylus continues to scribble well after people have stopped talking, as though he’s begun fleshing out the implications.

“So… we have visions… compelling urges… and random appearance? Functions, symptoms of exposure...” Bronius confirms with Cylus while tapping his desk impatiently, Cylus nods sternly. “Very well…”

Standing up out of his desk, he begins pacing the room, agitated “I ask of you to not tell anybody about the events of last night or the visions you saw until we can derive what is happening here, I will consult with my masters in the cult - we’re not entirely sure what happened last night.”

He whips his head with a mild joy to face the Orc: “However, a little birdy told me that you’re all freshly unemployed. What do we do with able bodied people who know secrets, Cylus?”
“We employ them!” He responds, enthusiastically.
“That’s correct. As such, I would like to request your assistance in investigating and disposing of this ring. The pay will be far better than mine labor, and we’ll train, supply and house you.”
On queue, he turns to Cylus who is already preparing paperwork on a small study on the other side of the room.
“How does that sound?” Bronius continues “Any concerns, complaints, questions?”

First off, huge thanks to Nattravnen and Markan, you guys have been really on it in terms of activity and I appreciate it. This is still more-or-less the pre-game, I’ve been trying to get a feel for how you guys play (or want to play) so I’ve been lenient on attendance, but I’ll start pinging people soon once we get into actual RPing with mechanics. I'm always impressed when I see you guys continuing to RP even when I haven't posted, it's good to see group chemistry in action.

If you haven’t already, I think it’s possible to set up email alerts for new posts to the thread or if I make a post. Make sure you at least have email notifications set up for private messages so that I can ping you if we need you to wrap something up.

In addition, I hope you’ve all finished reading the rule book by now, because soon I’m gonna want you to roll on things. I’ll provide details about that later.

[Dragonne Papre]

"That almost sounds too good to be true, but if it is true, I'd be glad to work for you. Personally, I don't have any complaints or concerns, just a ton of practical questions."

The mild joy expressed by Bronius was met and exceeded by Makela's own. After all, she had every reason to be happy with the promise of work and lodging. And for an Imperial institution, no less.
She paused briefly before continuing, ensuring eye contact with the mage as she gave a moment's thought to what she might want to ask about now. There were a lot of things that would have to be determined, like pay and location of lodgings, but for now she's just ask about what felt the most pressing.

"Most of all I'm wondering what our job would be. The ring is a magical mystery, but as you can probably guess, just about all magic is mysterious to me. I'm willing to work, but I'm not sure how much help I'd be."

[Vonfossen]

"That almost sounds too good to be true, but if it is true, I'd be glad to work for you. Personally, I don't have any complaints or concerns, just a ton of practical questions."

"Most of all I'm wondering what our job would be. The ring is a magical mystery, but as you can probably guess, just about all magic is mysterious to me. I'm willing to work, but I'm not sure how much help I'd be."

“Your dependability it most reassuring,” he says, smiling “I assure you that you’ll be a valuable asset to the Ministry of Artifact Retrieval and Banishment. We mostly need people that can… be trusted to do errands.”

His expression grows a little less joyous as he goes into the fine details: “We collect powerful artifacts and seek ways to banish or seal them for the betterment of all. The fewer connections you have, the better. Nobody needs to know what you know, even describing the ring to the right people can land you in the wrong situations. Revealing your employer can get you tailed.” His hand rests in his chin, looking down at the ground in deep thought. “Recently unemployed miners is a great, believable cover story as the city is flush with people like you.”

“Of course.. We’ll need to make sure that you’re capable of defending yourselves in a... worst case scenario.” He says, turning to Cylus, who nods and pulls out another scroll to begin working on a separate set of paperwork, seemingly done with the first.
“We still have a few minutes before Cylus finishes up. Makela here seems into it. What say the rest of you?”

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars tried to hide his surprise when the breton talked about engaging them. If one day someone said to him that he would have the opportunity to work with the Mage Guild he would have laughed to his face and told him to stop the skooma. But here he was, having said opportunity in front of him.
He had to think about it, sure the idea of getting money to roam the land was interresting to say the least, even more if he still had somewhere to fall back when needed. But on the other hand he can't help but lack trust for the mages and magic in general, would all the artifacts they would have to get be as dangerous as this ring ? Visibly able to kill the one who wear it ?

He spent some times pondering both the advantages and the disadvantages of this trade, looking through a window behind the Wizard, his arms crossed in front of him. A part him feeled he was taking one of the most important decision in his life and he just couldn't take it too quickly. After a few minutes being completely cut from reality he suddenly fell back on Nirn and sighed as he looked the breton in the eyes. He then smile with all his mouth and said :
"How could I let such an opportunity go unanswered ? I'm in !" He raised his hand toward the man to seal the deal "And don't worry about discretion, it's my speciality to stay discreet."

[Vonfossen]

"How could I let such an opportunity go unanswered ? I'm in !" He raised his hand toward the man to seal the deal "And don't worry about discretion, it's my speciality to stay discreet."

“Most excellent, we have much use for people of your... caliber.” says the Wizard, a wry grin accents his enthusiasm.

He turns to the two Dunmer: “What about you two? You’ve been quiet and reserved, slightly concerning… Do you have allegiances elsewhere?” Inquisitively, he tilts an eyebrow.

Pinged Markan and Lilith.

[Toadly]

Lilith thinks for a moment, looks at the others, then sighs. Even though she preferred solitude, travelling alone for twenty years can get rather stale. Nothing but books for company can lead to madness, and although she generally disliked people, these few didn't seem... all bad. She clasps her book to her chest tightly and answers, "I'll do it. I'm sure there's no shortage of destruction mages around here, but I'll do what you need me to do as long as I get full access to the library."

The idea of seeing these artifacts intrigued her. Meeting new people scared her a lot more than potentially lethal magical items. "So... Where is that ring now? Is it even here still?"

[Casimir]

Markan waits until Lilith is done speaking before looking back at Bronius, "I would be pleased to work for you Bronius, a sentiment my companions seem to share." Markan looks back over to Lilith and points to the ring on Bronius's desk. "It seems to be oh his desk Lilith."

Markan turns back again and waits expectently, assuming he has more to say before he dismisses the group.

[Vonfossen]

“Fantastic. Yes, I’ll be keeping the ring safe here.” He turns to Cylus, nodding.

Cylus brings forth four sets of paperwork and doles them out among the team while explaining.
“Inside you’ll each find three full sets of documentation prepared for you - doctored, of course - depending on whichever alibi works best for you. We have documentation stating that you are recently unemployed miners with a severance letter stating highly of you from your former employer, full of praise for fabricated characteristics. In addition, you have access to mages guild and imperial guard documentation, stating that you’re a newly initiated apprentice or guardsman. Of course, the higher ups in these organizations are in the know and will try to bail you from accusations of fraud or forgery… but don’t press your luck. I’ve arranged rooms for you in the guild owned dorms across the street.”

Walking back to his desk, he sits down and continues explaining: “I’ll need at least a week to get an idea of what to do next regarding this ring. I’d like you to take this time to get prepared. Use the documents, make some connections, get some training, and acquire some equipment.”

Looking down at the Argonian’s flaking boots, his expression tenses as he imagines the soul of a tortured scrib eternally bound to melancholy “Yes... equipment, the gravity of the situation is clear to me. Take 1,000 drakes each to start yourselves off. This is most likely your best place to start, as being appropriately dressed will help legitimize whatever claims about yourselves you seek to make. I’ll want you back next Sundas, I’ll let you know what I’m able to find. Until then, Cylus will be around to answer any questions that may arise. Don’t bother me unless it is critical.”

Facing the group, he makes one last statement: “You’re free to take this week however you see best, but I’ll need you at your best come next Sundas.”

Cylus takes up position by the door, looking like a dignified servant. Bronius rifles through his drawer, pulls some sort of irrecognizable magical toolkit and begins getting to work on examining the ring. Muttering, disinterested, he says:
“Let me know if you have any last questions. Otherwise, you are free to go.”

Thanks for your participation, everyone. We’re out of the pregame now and the setting is established. Things will become more open ended from here out.

I’m giving you all an additional 1.5k experience. Over the next week of game time, I’d like you guys to effectively roleplay out how you want to spend it. In addition, how and where you get your gear will have a large effect on your bang per buck ratio. Good/fast training will cost money, but functional training in most fields can be acquired through the channels that Bronius gave you at low cost or free. Which skills you level up first will have an influence on what you end up with. I’m trying to make this interesting and consequential.

Also, you don’t have to worry about the house rules right now. The only major house rule is already in your character sheet - Illusion and Conjuration governed by Personality and Intelligence, respectively.

Lastly, I’d like you all to begin rolling whenever you think it’s appropriate. I’ve decided that I’d rather not roll for you unless it’s a something initiated upon you. There is a dice rolling subforum that I suggest you check out if you don’t know how to get the thing working.

I’ll be posting smaller, more frequent per-character responses because we won’t be having many railroaded happenings for a while.

So, yeah. The rails are off, get creative! And good luck!

[Casimir]

Thanks for your participation, everyone. We’re out of the pregame now and the setting is established. Things will become more open ended from here out.

I’m giving you all an additional 1.5k experience. Over the next week of game time, I’d like you guys to effectively roleplay out how you want to spend it. In addition, how and where you get your gear will have a large effect on your bang per buck ratio. Good/fast training will cost money, but functional training in most fields can be acquired through the channels that Bronius gave you at low cost or free. Which skills you level up first will have an influence on what you end up with. I’m trying to make this interesting and consequential.

Also, you don’t have to worry about the house rules right now. The only major house rule is already in your character sheet - Illusion and Conjuration governed by Personality and Intelligence, respectively.

Lastly, I’d like you all to begin rolling whenever you think it’s appropriate. I’ve decided that I’d rather not roll for you unless it’s a something initiated upon you. There is a dice rolling subforum that I suggest you check out if you don’t know how to get the thing working.

I’ll be posting smaller, more frequent per-character responses because we won’t be having many railroaded happenings for a while.

So, yeah. The rails are off, get creative! And good luck!


I have a request, could you post all of the mage guild members and there names here for the Ebonheart guild, this will help me figure out who I'll be interacting with for the next week. I'll likely do a prepost on how I'll be spending my experience and money tomorrow.

Also, rolling is cumbersome here, would anyone be interested trying out a dice roller site like https://rolz.org/ instead?


Edit: I'm taking expert and Master rank in restoration for 1125xp, 1 character advance for Willpower (so now I can roll succeed on rolls under 84), and Novice rank for Logic and Lore: Magic specialization (favored charactrtistic decreases the cost of willpower and intelligent skills by 25%)

Finally I ask Bronius who I can comission in the guild to make me an enchanted Item, I want to get an enchanted item with "Replenish" (weirdly it's marked as potions only effect with makes no sense to me, since there's 100 other effects that do way more crazy stuff and a replenish shout you can use if you have the thu'um skill so I wanted to get your ruling on that, It'd rather not have to keep track of potions constanly, and will have to learn alchemy and enchanting and try to force the effect if this becomes a thing)

[Dragonne Papre]

"I have no more questions as of now. Thanks for this opportunity, Bronius, I'm not quite sure you know how much something like this means to me".
For just that moment, the mage's obvious disinterest did noting to deter Makela's show of emotion. The wide grin was likely to be characterised as an particularly un-Orcish expression, but even if Makela had cared about such things, the situation could hardly have made her resist the opportunity to show her happiness. She was fortunate enough to never truly having been penniless, or involuntarily forced to seek her luck, but the possibility of such desperation still seemed terrible, making this safety all the better.
Turning then to the Khajiit:
"That goes for you as well, Cylus. I'm truly, truly thankful. For everything".

Having left the duo of mages behind, but before exiting the guild proper, Makela stopped and peeked into a few rooms to find one that was unoccupied, once inside she removed her quilted jacket. Taking the belt that was usually worn on the outside of the jacket to fasten it better to the body, she instead fastened it around her stomach, on top of her undertunic. She took her newly begotten pouch of drakes and fastened it to the belt, and even untied her shoelaces, using them to tie the pouch to the belt. She knew that she looked silly, but feeling the weight of the money she had strapped to her, she didn't really care. That amount of money wouldn't stay around for long.
Leaving the guild in search of her lodging, it took a significant amount of her willpower to resist spending it all immediately, buying everything from trinkets to honeyed treats at the market stalls she passed.

She had never been destitute while growing up, but she was pretty sure she had never held this amount of money, much less been given it. She felt as if she could buy the world, or at the very least something needlessly extravagant. But again, the possession of such riches had not caused her wits to leave her. At least not entirely.

Her task was preparation, which as far as she was concerned was mostly the same as exercise. Looking over the documents Cylus had given her, she assessed her opportunities, and it soon became clear what she had to do. The very same day, Makela showed up to her first weapons drill with the local Imperial guards, presenting herself as if she'd just signed up for the job. As much as she was able, she'd show up to every single drill and general exercise. Like clockwork, going through the same motions over and over again, it still provided only a modest edge in her actual fighting skill. There's only so much that one can learn without actually sparring or using the weapons in actual combat.
If anything, the real test was one of endurance, of being able to do repetition after repetition without letting the fatigue affect her ability to perform.

The training hours of the guards was valuable, but they alone were not enough, and left her with time yet to spend. Makela easily decided that whatever time she had spare, she better spend on further exercise. Trying to remember discussions with her father about such matter, the choice fell on endurance training. It was something her father had always praised as the mark of a true legionary. Strength, he said, was the virtue of warriors and champions. But for a soldier, who must march long distances, carry his gear, and never tire in the Emperor's service, nothing was better than the ability to keep going despite wounds, fatigue and pain. Amongst other exercises, she decided to fill her backpack with rocks and hike back and forth across the safe areas close to the city. It was a crude mimicry of something she'd been told Orsimer did back in the Wrothgarians, where the young would sometimes carry bags filled with stones to mountaintops to prove their physical worth to their tribe.

It was hard, painful work. Muscles ached when she strained herself, and they felt sore when she stayed still, and as the week progressed, it turned into a miserable state of general pain that would hardly have been possible had she not felt so driven. In fact, she doubted she had ever been as driven to complete anything as she was to complete this week. It wasn't so much about Bronius and the job anymore, but rather about testing herself, and being given a taste of the legionary life she had envisioned since she was young. If she broke now, she wasn't sure she could trust herself to achieve the Legion career she wanted later in life.


Spend 450 points to increase Endurance by 20.
Spend 200 to increase the personal Combat Style (Legion Legacy) skill to Apprentice.


Her only real relief from backbreaking training came from an unexpected source. It has been instigated by herself as she met the drillmaster overlooking the weapon drills. She was a Nordic Imperial Knight, old enough that she may have fought during the Simulacrum, but still as fit as members of her race was prone to be. The feature about her that caught Makela's interest was not her physique, but rather the way she carried herself and conducted her drills. Though smaller and older than Makela, the woman was still her own unique brand of terrifying when recruits didn't do as she liked, but still able to be genuinely inspiring when she gave someone a rare gift of praise. This wasn't just authority, it was more of an intense presence that you could even feel when she demonstrated drills in silence. It was even in the way she way she walked, with long, perfect moves that should be called strides rather than steps.

The repeated encounters rekindled a fascination of her youth in Narsis that she had all but forgotten. Her family had always represented the way of the common soldier, but as anyone that has spent enough time around the Legion knows, there's something about the way some members of military aristocracy, the Imperial Knights, carry themselves that's not quite like that of the legionary. It was the pride of position and the confidence of experience, but also something else she couldn't quite name.
She'd never dreamed of becoming a Knight, for Orcs rarely join them, and even more rarely do they rise in the ranks, but it was a fascination none the less. But perhaps, as her people were soon to become citizens of the Empire as much as anyone else, that too would change?

At the end of her second day of drills, Makela sought out the drillmaster in private. She was full of nagging questions, not about the correct way to do some drill, but about how to present oneself in the way the drillmaster did. She feared, of course, that she would be laughed straight out of the room. But to Makela's surprise, the Nord was kind and forthcoming, their long discussion eventually leading them to take a drink at the tavern of choice by the local Imperial forces. She was herself not a high ranking Knight, or else she wouldn't be doing drills on the fringe of the Empire, but she and her fellow low-ranking officers proved to be surprisingly personable and friendly, whey sometimes allowed a mere recruit some time around them. Makela was sure she could thank the Nord for that limited privilege, and especially some of them seemed to find her boundless curiosity for the life of an Imperial Knight (bundled with a naivete that was at times outright juvenile) to be an amusing break from the daily banter.

In the evenings every following day, she'd go back to the tavern and meet with her newfound acquaintances. If she could, she would talk to whatever officers and Knights she could find, trying to pick up on stories of leadership and command. If she could not, she'd drink some with the other guardsmen. They were a cruder sort, and not the kind to let just any Orc into their social circles. Trying to be personable and charming, Makela had some progress by the end of the week, but most of all she had an unwelcome test of her interpersonal skills. And though she picked up some lessons on fitting in and being liked, and a flurry of new racial remarks, she much preferred what time she could spend with those of rank.
Diverting some time from pure exercise was, in hindsight, probably good for her. She wondered how close she had been to actually causing some level of injury to herself, and if she would have done so had she not spent more time socialising and listening to stories. By the end of the week, despite the pain involved, she was making a conscious effort to walk a bit more upright, carry herself better, and trying to imprint upon herself everything she'd learned about how to present your voice and pick the right words. It was far from a revolution, but some sort of self-betterment. After all, if the Nord could have such an impressive presence, why couldn't she? She'd just need to figure out how.


Spend 335 points to increase Personality by 15.
Spend 400 points to buy the Combat Flair Talent (Now uses Personality instead of Perception for calculating Maximum Action Points).
Spend 100 to increase the Command skill to Novice.


The end of the week did not come fast, and waking up early to exercise while still feeling yesterday's hardships was not something she'd remember fondly, but through perseverance if finally came. The breaks she had received thanks to her resurgent fascination with the Imperial Knights was, in hindsight, perhaps the one thing that had kept her going.
If anything, Makela somewhat regretted not spending any real time with her companions. She liked their company well enough, but she had not been paying much attention to them these last days. Surely, they were busy with their own things, but she hoped they held nothing against her for disappearing into the Imperial system and her own endurance regime for a whole week.


Wasn't entirely sure how you'd want me to play this out, so I just sort of improvised.
I know I'm being "that guy who goes on forever about stuff that no one cares about" right now, so sorry about that, there's just a lot to say if I'm supposed to justify great advancements in just a week.

So, and this is probably just me being my dense old self, I'm wondering how much money I'd have left of my 1 000 drakes to buy equipment once I've paid all expenses for training. I know what equipment I want to buy (and sell), and I'd do some commerce rolls for it all, but as long as I don't know how much I've got left after training, I don't know which of the items I can actually afford (it's an expensive loadout that's going to cost me just about all 1 000 drakes).

On a related note, do you want me to do two Commerce rolls (for both finding items and haggling for them) for the bulk of my transactions, or do two rolls per item?

I can make another post detailing purchases (and sales) once I know roughly how much money I still have with me once I go shopping.

[Casimir]

"Well if any of you need me I'll likely be studying in the library." Markan leaves after Makela, and heads to the dorms to change out of his mines clothes and into his robes. Gathering his things once again he heads back to library and settles down at a table, before pulling out his books and writing paper. He looks around the library once again before sighing, settling in his chair as it hits him he's likely not leaving this space often for the next week. He's thankful Casper is here, though he can't see her right now she will at least be able to point out relevant books to him every so often.

Reviewing over his notes and musing on restoration over his two decades of travel, a kind a excitement settles over him as he finally has the time to test some of his theories, and perhaps break into the higher masteries and mysteries of the restoration school.

....

Four days later, Markan feels like he's hit a wall in his progress. He was able to organise and add on to his writen knowledge of restoration, his spell tome filled with new notes and spells to review later, but that does little to sooth his frustration at this situation. Finding information on restoration in the mage's guild was like finding a needle in a haystack, The School he's learned, was never though highly of in the Mage's guild and isn't even considered a great school of magic. Rubbing his bloodshot and weary eyes, he glances over the books infront of him, holding out hope their's something worthwile here that can propel him back into his research. The last rays of light fade as night ushers in, and looking down at the tomes on the table, Markan feels his eyes closing as he nods off at table, the last few days finally catching up with him.... and dreams.

....Before him he sees a metallic Elf before a great fire, his apostals arrayed before him listening to his sermans on the mysteries of the world, like children they clutch at his dark robes and drink his knowledge in, hopeing to one day be as he is.... I hear him speak briefly, and yet feel the words slipping around me like so much sand...

"....Your imagination and your willpower are the keys. There is no need for a spell to give you a resistance to air, or a resistance to flowers, and after you cast the charm, you must forget there is even a need for a spell to give you resistance to fire. Do not confuse what I am saying: resistance is not about ignoring the fire's reality. You will feel the substance of flame, the texture of it, its hunger, and even the heat of it, but you will know that it will not hurt or injure you..."

The dream fades away before him as Markan wakes up to a hand shaking his shoulder. Rubbing the dust from his eyes, he looks beside him to see Casper there looking down on him. The Khajit smiles at him, or he thinks she does before turning to look at the books piled up around him, "If your done with these Markan I'll start reshelving them, unless you had something you wanted to reference here?"

Markan rubes his chest slowly, trying to think back on the dream but finding it slipping threw his fingers. It feels like something has changed, but he couldn't say what. Looking back to Casper he shakes his head and starts to help her put the books away.

Not complely done with this, I haven't written out what I'm purchaceing yet as I'm unsure of what I can get enchanted at the mages guild, but besides that and some basic supplies I don't expect it'll be hard to figure out. I wonder if anyone has experimented with Welkynd Stones, or made any advancements with then. Perhaps I should start studying them to figure out how to make a reusable container for Magicka.

[Nattravnen]

Walk-with-stars shook hands with everybody once he finished signing up the documents and took the gold as he was almost shaking of excitement, oh this was going to be a good week... He finaly left quite quickly before saying that anybody who would want to find him could probably do so in the inn for the whole week.

Once he left the room he headed outside while doing a mental note of what he had to do for the week : Finding someone to renovate his armor and his shortsword, getting a little bit of training with said sword as he would prefer to be sure about using it without cutting himself, and most of all, getting to know everyone around him.

So that's what he did, spending some times around town the first day to find a blacksmith, he decided to settle for the one he deemed the most competent and gave him both his armor and his shortsword. He decided to go find a quiet place where he could train without being disturbed while the blacksmith was working and finally decided to stay in a small swamp out of town. He then came back to the blacksmith to get his stuff back.

Once that was done he headed to the inn for two things, first he wanted to know everyone in the town and even around, he wanted to know what they were doing, why they were doing it and how they were doing it, who needed what and who had what they needed and most off all, what were they ready to do to get what they wanted ? Secondly he wanted to know more about the mage guild and his new employer, for this he would need to try to get his old "friends" again. It was time for him to spend some times with the ones who knew a lot of secrets, the Thieves Guild and anything that was close to it. He didn't wanted to join it or to fall to far in illegality but he wouldn't mind doing some small favors to know what he wanted and mostly to keep his research discreet.

And at last he wanted to know his new colleagues, sure he spent some times with them at the mines but he wanted to know how much he could trust them and rely on them if they ever were in danger. So he just decided to go the good old way and just spend as much times with them as he could and as much as they would tolerate his presence. With Makela it was also a good occasion to get to know the Imperial Guards in the city and to know how they worked, with Markan it was the time to get to read more books than before and mostly to know a little bit more of the Mage guild.

So that's how his days went for a week : He woke up early and trained all morning in his cozy little swamp, then he went to grab something to eat and spent the most time he could with his new friends and when the evening came it was time for him to get to the tavern and to gather as much information as possible on everything, never too generous with a drunk or two. The night was here to spent times with his old friends and trying to learn as much as he could with them. Then he tried to get some sleep and to start again the next day.

300 to get Charm to apprentice; 150 spent to get commerce to apprentice; 150 spent to get deceive to apprentice; 150 spent to get invistigate to apprentice; 150 spent to get combat style to apprentice; 100 spent to get athletics to novice; 75 spent to get Acrobatics to novice. And I also took the duelist talent for 150.
That leave me with 275.
Also I just don't understand how you can augment a carac by 20 and only have it cost 450, is there something I don't understand in the rules ? I thought it was supposed to be 150x(char.bonus) to get 5 points, but I may have missed something.

[Casimir]

300 to get Charm to apprentice; 150 spent to get commerce to apprentice; 150 spent to get deceive to apprentice; 150 spent to get invistigate to apprentice; 150 spent to get combat style to apprentice; 100 spent to get athletics to novice; 75 spent to get Acrobatics to novice. And I also took the duelist talent for 150.
That leave me with 275.
Also I just don't understand how you can augment a carac by 20 and only have it cost 450, is there something I don't understand in the rules ? I thought it was supposed to be 150x(char.bonus) to get 5 points, but I may have missed something.

You're correct, here's the quote from the core rule book, "Characteristic Advance (+5) 150 x (Char. Bonus) CrP", "Remember that learning and ranking skills or talents governed by a favored characteristic, or advancing that characteristic, costs 75% of the usual XP (round down to the nearest multiple of 5)."

This means a characteristic advance base costs 150 exp, times the characteristic bonus of the characteristic you're advancing. For example Let's say my strength is 14 it would cost 150 to advance it to 19, then another 150 to advance it to 24, if I wanted a third advance though, it would cost 300 because the characteristic is over 20 now, so the bonust now factors in to how much it costs to advance it.

If my strength was favored though my strength advances would cost 110, 110 (112.5 rounded down to the nearist multiple of 5), then 225 because it's only 75% of the usual xp to advance it. This is how I understand it, and doesn't take in other factors, like if the GM chooses to make purchaceing something cheaper if you have a trainer or access to facilities that make training easier.

[Nattravnen]

You're correct, here's the quote from the core rule book, "Characteristic Advance (+5) 150 x (Char. Bonus) CrP", "Remember that learning and ranking skills or talents governed by a favored characteristic, or advancing that characteristic, costs 75% of the usual XP (round down to the nearest multiple of 5)."

This means a characteristic advance base costs 150 exp, times the characteristic bonus of the characteristic you're advancing. For example Let's say my strength is 14 it would cost 150 to advance it to 19, then another 150 to advance it to 24, if I wanted a third advance though, it would cost 300 because the characteristic is over 20 now, so the bonust now factors in to how much it costs to advance it.

If my strength was favored though my strength advances would cost 110, 110 (112.5 rounded down to the nearist multiple of 5), then 225 because it's only 75% of the usual xp to advance it. This is how I understand it, and doesn't take in other factors, like if the GM chooses to make purchaceing something cheaper if you have a trainer or access to facilities that make training easier.

Ok so excepted if you somehow started at 1 it's impossible to advance from 20 points for only 450 xp right ? I'm sorry to talk about that but I saw this in the post of Dragonne Papre and I just couldn't wrap my head around it, so Dragonne Papre, maybe you made a mistake ? Or is there a rule we didn't understood ?

[Casimir]

Yes, Papre likely miss calculated it, I think her endurance was 51 before this and Papre has Endurance as a favored attribute, 2 character advances to get to 61 would be 1125 xp, from 61 to 71 would take another 1350 xp. Not a big deal, just need to go over how you're spending stuff again.

[Nattravnen]

So, nothing moved for almost a week now, is the game stopped or something ?

[Casimir]

I'm waiting on Vonfossen right now, I assume he went on vacation or something, he hasn't been in the thread in a week. Besides that he might be waiting for Toadly to post, or working on his homebrew rules.

(Edit 11/16/16) Hay I got word from Von he's cancelling this campaign, he lost steam on where to take the story and had a friend quit the game, so this is officially dead. If a mod sees this they can lock the thread or whatever.

Funnily enough, Seht is back working on the system, and von's helping out. You might see me and him in the Discord chat now and then.