Dranas Heleran

The clannfear's claws raked through the air, seeking flesh--but were met with a poisoned steel blade instead.

"RRRAAARRRRGGGHHH!"

The daedra staggered back with a pained growl, only to be pursued--a gashed arm here, a slash across the chest there--until it fell to the floor, banished to Oblivion.

Dranas' ancestor ghost was clawing at yet another scamp--was until the ghost dissipated and was replaced by a neck-severing shaft of steel. Dranas was feeling the blood lust rise within--echo of those chaotic pirate days--and he forgot all thoughts of shelter. He paused only to pour more poison over his blade, then rushed into the melee.

Dralas

Dralas watched the merchant abandon cover and rush in. He helpedd the mer where he could, putting a few well-placed arrows into a number of clannfear.

Rianne was beside him still, casting spells. She was helping the priest, he knew, but on the other hand there was a couple of nasty-looking hungers getting close to them. And a dremora made himself known. the leader of these daedra perhaps?

He dropped his bow in favor of his sword then, to deal with the hungers. One ran for him, the other went straight for Rianne...

Haz OOC: Eno is probably somewhere outside by now or at least a good way up the stairs. I'll deal with him when it's appropriate again

Haz pondered the question he'd been asked. While he didn't have a knife, he was quite certain he could just bite through those straps with some effort. That however, would be unreasonably foolish.
"All I have right now is the sword. But that is far too unwieldy for such a job." He replied as he carefully pulled the weapon from his belt. He looked at the blade for a moment, knowing fully well that the priest would not appreciate it if he wasted time.

The sword was of decent quality, but the quality of the steel was probably a bit low, if his resources had been accurate. With a mental shrug, he put it over his knee and managed to break it, leaving only a solid hand of steel protruding from the hilt. It had been poor steel indeed.
"Here, it should be usable now." He grunted as he handed over the sword.

While watching Rothan's work, he attempted to stretch out his sleeves to cover the bracers as much as possible. It didn't really work.
"I should have ignored him and ran off with a carpet or something."

Khallet

Khallet stormed through the melee, sabre raised above his head and roaring in rage. He covered the ground between him and ordinator in moments, and swiped down. The mer's shield sprang up and clanged against Khallet's sabre, rocking back against the impact but holding his ground. Khallet's own weapon bounced off the golden coloured metal, and he bought it to bear just in time to stop the ordinator's own swiping mace.

The daedric metal bit down on the steel of the ordinator's mace handle, holding it in place for a moment, and Khallet loosed one hand from his sword's handle to swing a vicious punch into the ordinator's face place.

The mer reeled back, blood streaming from the crumpled holes that were the mask's nostrils, and stumbled over the clannfear he had dispatched but moment ago. Khallet slammed an armoured, spiked elbow through the mer's chestplate, sending him falling to the ground.

Khallet raised his sword in order to swipe down on the ordinator's neck, but the mer had other ideas and swung his mace from his prone position on the floor. Khallet leapt back to avoid his ankles being shattered and the ordinator used his momentum to roll away and pull himself to his feet.

The only problem was that Khallet's sword was still in reach.

Before the ordinator could bring his mace or shield up to defend himself, Khallet's sabre swooped in and took the mer's head off clean at the neck. For a moment the ordinator stood there like a grisly statue, blood spurting from the stump of its neck, before it crumpled to the ground.

Khallet wiped his blade clean on the purple cloth that poked through gaps in the ordinator's armour, and readied his weapon for the next challenger.

Rothan

Rothan was surprised by the pilgrim breaking the sword in half but was more than glad to take the shortened piece. He was half aware of the pilgrim trying to pull his ruined sleeves down but ignored him as he slipped the broken sword under the straps of the guards cuirass and slit them. He lifted the breastplate off and tutted at the mess underneath. Rothan knew enough about healing but the cuts to the guard's side were deep and needed a skilled healer. The best he could do was to stop his patient bleeding out before someone could have a proper look.

He tore a length from the guards shirt and gingerly pulled the wound open. The guard moaned and struggled a bit, Rothan ignored him and lifted the skin apart. It was as bad as he'd feared, the hunger's foul claws had taken filth into the wound, he balled the cloth and looked to the pilgrim, "Hold him, he won't like this." Then h scrubbed into the wound with the cloth to remove as much of the dirt as he could and to refresh the stale blood with fresh. It bled anew but after a couple of moment he drew a sticky strand of the resin from its paper packet and pushed it into the wound and pulled the skin together. Once he'd worked his way all along the bleeding was much lighter.

To finish he put his hands over the wounded side of the torso and drew on some magic. As he built the spell in his head he lost it and it dissipated. He breathed but keeping calm with a battle so close was impossible. He offered a quick prayer to Sotha Sil and tried again. The spell was weak but at least there was some healing.

Rothan sighed a heavy breath and sat back, "He needs a better healer, but he won't die soon. Think we should take him outside." He tried to look the pilgrim in the face as he spoke but couldn't keep his eyes on the dark cloth which hid it, they kept slipping down to the bracer. That is a slave bracer, how did a slave end up on this?

Haz

Haz nodded.
"That would be for the best. We can't guarantee his safety while here. Those things are too close." He hissed, pointing at the fight he'd been watching. He took hold of the guard and lifted him onto his shoulder.
"Let's get out of here before we join him on the floor."

Rothan

The pilgrim, or whatever he was, was stronger than Rothan had expected and simply hauled the guard onto his shoulder so Rothan lead clearing a way through the detritus left in the wake of the evacuation. Behind them a fireball seared the ceiling. He did what he could to help on the stairs but suspected he was as much in the way as he was useful. Outside the pilgrim propped the guard on the ground a short way from the entrance and Rothan took another look at the wound.

It was stable and fiddling with it now would do as much harm as good so he stood and held out a hand to the pilgrim, "Thanks, I'm Rothan Sarayn, priest. What's your name?"

Rianne

She was so absorbed by the effects of her spellcasting so she didn't see the hunger coming for her until its sharp teeth dug deep into her side.

The shock and loosing of a lot of blood made her sink to the ground.

Death is not a big deal really! Easy I'd say

The magnificent gallery of teeth was the last thing she saw, before everything turned black

"Dralas?" she whispered with her dying breath

OOC: Err, there aren't any healers nearby for as far as I know. Even if she survives, she might be feeling the after effects for the rest of the rp.

Haz

Haz cursed himself for getting involved. This was the last thing he wanted. First would be his name, then all the other questions would follow.
"Haz Andrethi, from the mainland." He replied and, after some hesitation, shook the priests hand.
"He's seen too much already. I should really kill him now and blame one of those monsters." He thought to himself, already knowing that he wasn't going to.
"Pah, I can't kill him, not now. Doing so, would mean I rewarded his bravery with nothing but spite. I'll have to find the lies to please him. But if he gets too close later...I'll have to kill him after all."

Eno Arval

Eno was sitting outside, his back pressed against a broken off pillar. When he saw the priest and the pilgrim emerge from the shrine, carrying what looked to be a corpse, he shivered.
"OH, ALMSIVI. Please, protect us." He whispered.

OOC: Haz could always knock a rock over Rothan's head if he doesn't want to answer (or if he says too much and needs some convenient amnesia). Needn't kill him, just put him down for a bit.

Rothan

Rothan looked at Haz for a moment wandering what the best way to bring up the subject was. It was a bit awkward but he needed to know so he decided to be blunt.

"That's an unusual bracer you have there, unusual to see on a dunmer anyway, and I'd think unseen on a pilgrim..." he paused, the pilgrim had just helped with the guard. What was the right thing to do? "You've been helpful though, I'll bear that in mind." He tried a smile.

OOC: I don't think we should trust Haz's ability to strike just hard enough to cause amnesia, yet soft enough to not crack open Rothan's skull and spill his brains all over the place.

Haz

Haz's worst predictions seemed to have come true. The only question that could have been worse would have been. "Why is an Argonian pretending to be a Dunmer?"
Several possible lies fled through his mind, but in the end he settled on pretending to be from some backwater half-forgotten village somewhere. Which wasn't all that far from the truth.
"These bracers are part of a local tradition. It is customary for pilgrims to surrender all they own but the chains of their faith during their pilgrimage. As a symbol of this, we wear the bracers of a slave." He said slowly.
"A local variant on the Dark Elf religion that's slightly different from the island variety? I'll stick with that, I guess."

"And it doesn't surprise me much that you have never seen one of us before. We are just a small village, bothered by aggressive foreigners. It took gifts from everyone and many years of saving just to pay for my journey. The Pilgrim may surrender his own possessions before embarking, but he can't row across the sea by himself. And traveling by boat these days does not come cheap."
That hadn't been a lie. It had taken plenty of bribes in the right places, and some threatening with poison and daggers, before his journey to Vvardenfell by means of smugglers had been arranged.

Rothan

Rothan had heard some stories of the insane heresies on the mainland but hadn't given them any credit but this one was one of the oddest. Who would pose as a slave for a pilgrimage? It was certainly irregular. It also explained the oddities.

"Oh," he said, full of concern, "I'd heard that there is confusion on the mainland. I suppose you can't help being brought up in heresy but please, accept my offer to show you the true path of devotion. You've shown that you're heart is good, but such beliefs are misguided. When we reach the dig you should join me in prayer and offer the correct devotion."

For all he deplored the heresy Rothan felt a little hypocritical saying it. The book he had gave him thoughts he knew were blasphemous.

Haz

Haz nodded absentmindedly.
"That would be helpful, yes. No doubt a priest from the island follows a more...purer form than a priest at the swamp's borders." He said.
"I really can't afford the risk. But that's alright. When we arrive, I'll be able to hide among the slaves."

Dralas

Dralas had a hard time with his opponent. The hunger's long claws kept Dralas' sword at bay, and kept his feet moving. A claw raked across his cheek, and another his chest. He saw Rianne go down out of the corner of his eye. Dralas swung recklessly; he was getting impatient. The hunger impaled Dralas' arm with one of those razor-sharp fingernails, but at the expense of getting stuck.

The ashlander's chitin blade went clean through the hunger's wrist, and Dralas cringed as he pulled out the claw. The hunger had no hand, but it wasn't finished yet. It charged him once more, trying to tackle him. Dralas held his sword pointing forward, and the daedra impaled itself as it fell over top of the dunmer.

He kicked the thing off himself and got to his feet quickly. Finally able to come to Rianne's aid, he realized he may have been too late. Another hunger was on top of her unconscious form, its vicious teeth aimed at her throat.

OOC: I'll finish this later. kinda tired.

Rothan

The guard was breathing steadily and seemed more asleep than comatose so Rothan stood and turned to Haz, "He's not going to die very soon and there's no more I can do with him. We should go back and see if anyone else has been injured."

He turned to the entrance and noticed Eno cowering against a pillar, "Can you watch this guard?" shouted Rothan, "We're going in to see if anyone else needs aid." He steeled himself as he made towards the door of the ruin again without checking to see if the pilgrim followed.

Haz

Haz shrugged but didn't move from where he stood. For all he cared, he had done his part and going back in would just be foolish.
"Umm, shouldn't you...help him?" Eno stammered nervously. He too, hadn't moved. Haz growled angrily and shook his head.
"Speak for yourself!" He snapped back, only to reprimand himself right away.
"I can't let my anger get the best of me. Besides, if that priest finds out he's down there alone, he'll blame me. I just can't win these days, it seems." He thought.

"You heard the priest. Guard the soldier. If I come back and see that you're still cowering behind the rocks wetting yourself, I'll make you wish you had let yourself be eaten by one of those things instead of fleeing. So do as you're told. Because I do not bluff, coward!" The Argonian added and ran back for the entrance of the shrine, hoping to catch up with Rothan before he found out that his 'companion' had hesitated.

Descending the stairs as fast as he dared in the gloom, he noticed with worry that the sounds of battle were still loud enough to drown out his footsteps.
"I wish I hadn't broken the sword. But how was I to know that after fleeing, we would be leaping right back in like a brainless monkey?"

As he reached the end of the stairs, so did he reach Rothan.
"Alright, we're here. See anyone we can help? Maybe we should split up." Haz said as he let his eyes wander. Both the number of Daedra and Dunmer had fallen considerably. In a corner to the left of him, amidst a pile of rubble that might have been a closet, an Armiger sat on the floor, one arm bent at an unnatural angle, the other casting magic to support his comrades who were still fighting. To the right of him, A Dark Elf was struggling with a Hunger, very close to another bleeding body. Haz's eyes widened and he pointed.
"Hey, weren't they with us when we got attacked by..." His tongue struggled with the unfamiliar word "Ashlanders?"

Eno Arval

Eno shook his head. Part of him was still trying to break free from the panic, the other part simply couldn't belief that a pilgrim of all people had just threatened him.
"By ALMSIVI, why did I ever leave my home? To look for adventure? Hah, more like terror!" He muttered, but sat down next to the still unconscious guard.



OOC: Ok, we're in. Now let's hope Dantrag comes on and resolves the situation so we can work with it. Anyway, I'd say we go with Dralas fighting the Hunger for now.

Rothan

The shrine was in chaos, there were considerably more corpses, both dunmer and daedric, than there had been but fighting still raged. Rothan sought about for where help was most needed, and most easily delivered. Then Haz pointed out the two ashlanders who had been with them when they were attacked. One fought a hunger, trying desperately to hold it off the woman who lay on the floor bleeding. Rothan thought about helping the man against the daedra but he didn't trust his skill and the woman needed urgent help.

"She needs us," he sad to Haz, "Quickly." He started towards Rianne.

Haz

Haz nodded, but bent down to pick up a stool before following. While even more awkward to wield than the sword had been, the weight in his hands was reassuring. They quickly made their way towards the two Ashlanders, relatively unhindered by the battle. It was almost a miracle, but the Armigers had so far managed to hold the line with only a few minor breakthroughs, somehow.

Nearing Rianne, Haz's eyes began to skip back and forth between the woman and Dralas. Maybe it would be better for him to strike down the Hunger from behind first. Dralas seemed to be holding his own so far, but the Argonian was not yet sure of the man's skills in battle. Fighting kin from afar was one thing, fighting a vicious monster hand-to-claw was another. If Haz helped out first, it would give them some measure of safety while the priest attempted his healing skills on Rianne.

On the other hand, with the two moving back and forth, he didn't dare risk an attack. He might hit the Ashlander instead of the Hunger, which would surely spell the man's doom. It wasn't that Haz cared, but even now he could not forget his place. Witnesses would not look kindly upon his mistake.


OOC: Yeah, first pots and now a stool. Instead of mentioning poisons (not that he knows Vvardenfell flavours), I should have given him improvised weaponry instead. I mean, that's pretty much what he's doing here. And uh, depending on whether or not Dantrag gets on quick to resolve the fight with the Hunger, I'll either have Haz get dragged along by Rothan into helping Rianne, or bash in the Hunger's skull.

Dralas

The hunger had done something to Rianne, Dralas just couldn't figure out what. All he knew was that the blood and Rianne's lack of movement made it look bad. With a swift prayer to his grandfather, who was known for his luck, Dralas dropped his sword and charged the thing head on.

The tackle was successful and the hunger was now pinned on the floor away from Rianne's limp form. Dralas saw out of the corner of his eye what he hoped was help coming his way; the two priests. The hunger was struggling, and Dralas was struggling himself to keep from being mauled. Dralas was trying to reach the dagger in his boot, but it was easier said than done with a writhing monster underneath him.

Rianne

Oh the light! I want to go there..how beautiful...

Something prevented her from heading towards the bright light in the end of the tunnel...something strong, an ancient soul, or was it just a dream? She had to go back...

Wih a gasp Rianne opened her eyes to the real wold. The intense pain in her left side told her that she was alive so far...

In her dim consciousness she noticed the priest, Rothan was it? and another man doing something to her...something that hurt! But then...she felt the ancient spirit...fill her soul.

"Dralas?" she wispered, knowing he was present.

He must have an open mind so the spirit can dwell in it..

"My bag!...green leaves...heart-shaped...make a paste from them...stop bleeding...hurry!"

She struggled very hard not to faint, she needed to stay awake she needed soo much to stay awake

Haz

Haz was completely at a loss. When the woman cried out however, his mind was made up.
"What is she saying? Probably delusional from pain and bloodloss. Still, she's conscious, so the wound must look worse than it actually is. Alright then, the priest can handle it."

"You help the woman, I'll aid the man!" He yelled at Rothan as he dashed the short distance to where Dralas and the Hunger where fighting on the ground. As it was, both man and monster were evenly matched limb for limb, but Haz doubted that the Dark Elf had an answer to the thing's acidic tongue. Just by pinning the beast to the floor, he would not be able to achieve victory.
"Pull your head back, Elf!" The Argonian shouted at Dralas, hoping that the man would take the hint and give him a clear shot at the Hunger's skull.

Still, there was no time to wait for a response, so Haz swung the stool down, albeit slightly slower than he would have if there was only the Hunger to worry about. Hopefully he would hit the right target and hopefully he would stun it.

Dralas

Dralas did as urged and leaned backwards, just quickly enough to allow the stool to pass over him. Right into the daedra's skull.

With the danger gone, he scanned the ground for Rianne's bag. He snatched up the leaves and handed them to Rothan.

"Use these. I think they can help her," he explained.

Next he found his abandoned shortsword. The battle wasn't quite over.

OOC: EDIT: i wrote arrow instead of stool for whatever reason. sorry.

OOC: What killed the daerda? I thought Haz was going to lamp it with a stool.

Rothan

Rothan dropped to Rianne's side as Haz attacked the hunger. She was bleeding heavily and saying something about green leaves. He ignored her and looked at where the hunger had bitten her. The wound looked messy and blood poured from it. He tore back the shirt, I need water to wash this.... There was none. He put his hands against it and tried a healing spell but he had spent most of his magic on the guard and it was weak but he hadn't the energy to try again so he resorted to holding the wound shut.

There was a crash behind him and he saw the hunger fall with its head mangled. The ashlander man, Dralas if Rothan remembered correctly, passed him some leaves and said they might help. He looked at them critically, they were heart-shaped and not an ingredient he recognised but it was all he had. He thought for a moment, he had no idea of how to apply them. A tea? A paste? Or was it more subtle - burning or needing distillation? No, he thought, the ashlander man had known so it would be simple. And there was no chance of tea so paste would have to do. He moved so only one hadn held the wound shut and picked up a small piece of shattered pottery in the other and began crushing the leaves. Once the paste was smooth enough he took his hand off the wound. More blood dribbled out but he smeared the paste in as best he could then tried another spell.

Haz

Haz grinned from behind his mask at the sound of wood hitting starved flesh and bone. He'd almost missed, but the Dark Elf's reflexes had been excellent and prevented any accidents. The Ashlander did not wait to finish it off with the dagger he'd been reaching for, instead diving for some sort of bag from which he procured some sort of herbal cure that the Argonian did not recognize.

Haz smacked the stool two more times into the Hunger's body for good measure, kicked it once and then sat down on the bloodied stool. He kept an eye on the fighting, but did not try to join in. As far as he was concerned, he'd cracked enough skulls for today.
"Quite sturdy furniture, and quite lethal. Just what I needed."

"I'm no healer, so I'll let you treat the wound till we can carry her outside." He said in Rothan's direction. Sitting so close to a battlefield, he didn't dare take his eyes off the action for a moment.

Rianne

The incredible pain diminished quite a bit as Rothan rubbed the paste of green leaves into her wound. She was able to focus on other things than her tormented body.

"Ahh, thank you" she said to him, trying one of her more attractive smiles on him. Then she looked around, looked for Dralas...

"Dralas? are you ok?" She stayed lying down for a bit, no hurry, they were all there, and if necessary she would manage to cast her spell again...at least that's what she thought.


She looked at the figure sitting on the bloodied stool...

"Impressive " she smiled

Haz

Haz turned away from the fighting. It seemed that the woman had regained most of her wits. While he wasn't sure if she was still delusional or not, he thought it might be safe enough to move her now. She was looking at him and smiling, which unnerved him quite a bit.
"Can she see my face? No, I'm certain my eyes are hidden by the shadows of my hood. I should be safe." He thought, subconsciously bowing his head.

"Alright, I'd say I toss the lady onto my back and we get out of here like a pack of scared young...whatevers. I don't like this place one bit." He said, only barely managing to catch himself from naming a distinctly non-native species of animal.

He glanced back at the fighting again. Almost all of the Daedra had been either slain or forced back by now and it looked as if the Armigers were going to achieve a victory, albeit a costly one. However, that would only be if the black armoured stranger would fall in the next few moments. And looking at the growing number of corpses around him, Haz seriously doubted they would be so fortunate.
"Quick, before the spiked one comes for us." He added urgently, leaping up from the stool which tipped over on the floor with a loud clatter.

Rothan

Rothan nodded, "I'd rather not risk moving her but given the circumstances... Yes it would be safer for us all." He went to take Rianne's legs, "Get her arms," he said, "I'll see if I can get a potion, or at least some ingredients, outside."

The fight was dying down and looked like it would be over before he would finish tending the ashlander woman's wound. Rothan was secretly glad he wouldn't have to enter the ruin again.

Rianne

Rianne whined silently as they lifted her. She was by no meand fully healed and the pain was still there. However she realised they had to get out of there....

"Dralas!, please see to him..where is he? Is he okay?" She was truly concerned

Haz

Haz looked over his shoulder. Dralas, no doubt the man who'd fought the Hunger.
"Hey! We're leaving! Don't get left behind!" He shouted at the Dunmer, before picking up Rianne with the priest's help.
"The man is alive and standing. Worry for your own sake instead of his." He rasped to the woman as they carried her towards the stairs, as fast as they dared.
"No really, why did I even bother to warn him? Just let him rush into the thick of battle while we flee. It would be one thorn out of my side if he died."

Khallet

Khallet smiled a rabid grin of pure, bloodthirsty joy as his blade slammed home on the ordinator's neck, oblivion-forged steel ripping through sinew and bone. For a moment, the corpse stood there, limp as a half-stuffed ragdoll, before falling to the ground, mace clattering from useless, dead fingers.

Khallet surveyed the scene in front of him, looking for-

The impact was so sudden, so hard, he barely knew what was happening until he was bowled to the ground, his sabre skittering away across the floor.

Almost immediately he scrambled to his feet, just in time to see a large, thick bladed knife descend towards his throat. Acting purely on instinct, he grabbed, somehow managing to stop the descending edge. He looked up, into the eyes of an Imperial, a young one. Hate burned within them, some kind of maddened frenzy that he had not seen outside of the most bloodlust fueled worshippers of Boethia, or his own master.

Khallet twisted and loosened his grip, sending the young man tumbling away. He scrambled towards his own sabre, hoping to finish the fight; the man was unarmoured, and either unprepared for a fight, a master of the blade or a fool. Either way, he would die.

But first, Khallet had more pressing issues to deal with. He scrambled to his knees, reaching out for his sabre. He stretched forward, fingers closing around the hilt.

He screamed in agony as an armoured boot slammed down on his wrist, bone cracking. Khallet gasped, vision blurring in pain. Instinctively, he looked up, to see a dunmer snarling back at him, blade ready to slam down into his heart.

He scrabbled with his free hand for something, anything, sweaty blood coated fingers slipping over the ground. Suddenly found the handle of the ordinator's mace, his fingers closing over its smooth, ebony handle.

He swung upwards wildly, the heavy weapon moving slowly under his sudden weak strength, but it was enough. It slammed into the dunmer's hand, the warrior giving a yell of pain and instinctively stumbling away.

Khallet dragged himself to his feet, mace in his good hand, black blood dripping from his shattered wrist. But he knew he was beaten. He was fighting with his weak hand, his wrist was an inferno of agony and the loss of blood was already making him dizzy.

From nowhere, the Imperial's knife smashed into his chest, punching through his armour, spearing into his heart.

He collapsed, gasping, head spinning. Already, he could feel the very particles that made him up beginning to unravel, dragging him into oblivion. Colours that had no name clawed at the edge of his vision, silent voices screamed of impoverished luxury. The vision of a field of burning hot ice flew before his eyes.

And then it was gone.

Darkness. Nothing. All gone, a tiny, smooth walled cage.

Khallet roared in rage, clawing and grabbing futilely at the walls of his new prison, but it was fruitless. Wherever he was, he was trapped again, denied the possibility of returning to his home.

Erna smiled and tucked the glistening soul gem within his pocket, smirking at his own cleverness. It had been child's play to work a soul trap spell into the summoning, and then cast it on Khallet, and then wait for him to get himself killed. Now he had an extremely angry daedra with him-the perfect insurance should things go awry.

The dunmer glanced around the room, noticing the daedra were already beginning to become depleted, and decided it was time to go. No point falling victim to his own tools.

James

James awoke with a grunt as something ran past him. And after two seconds of complete fog in his mind he picked up on the screams of panic. Sure never mind not trampling the sleeping guy.

Angrily he got to his feet and marched towards where he could hear sounds of a big fight, honestly if someone had gotten drunk and knocked over an Orc or perhaps a Nord's ale he'd kill said person for interrupting his sleep.

His thoughts of revenge were stopped when he noticed the deadra doing a terrific job of beating up Ordinators. "Bugger, hehe I'll just go back nice and quietly", he mumbled mostly for himself. He backtracked as silently as he cold when he bumped into something. Something wearing a rather spike set of armour, and lastly it was alive.

Turning slowly he realized that he stood before a rather big Dremora. Honestly James stood at a respectable 6'2 but his head barely reached the chest of the massive Daedra. "Crap", he mumbled and prepared to flee when the muscled arm of the Dremora clamped around his throat and lifted him up so that they stood eye to eye.

"Y-you know...you s-sh-should have k-killed me when y-you had the chance" James managed to gasp. Then he gathered up his magic and released it through his hand as a blinding flash of light so strong that it burned out the Dremora's eyes.

It's ethereal screams echoed around the ruins as it tried to douse the flames. James after getting air back to his lungs went over to the Dremora which was twisting around in pain. He jumped onto its back and grabbed its neck in the nook of his arm and pulled for all his worth, while pushing down with his knee as hard as he could.

With a sickening !CRACK! the Dremora's neck broke and it quickly turned into dust afterwards.

"Serves you right", he quipped at the rapidly vanishing dust.

Dranas Heleran

Dranas had cut through a half-dozen scamps and another clannfear before he noticed that the horde was dissipating--low in numbers and in spirit. He applied one last swab of poison to his blade, slashed yet another scamp across the chest, then went over to aid a pair of armigers fighting the last of the hungers. Within moments it was over.

It was only then that Dranas discovered that he was bleeding (though not badly) in four places, and that his armor was once again in a bad way.

"Damn it all, I just spent 20 drakes getting this kit repaired!"

He surveyed the damage more closely. He could fix it himself, he concluded, given six hours to spare. And he'd have that time... would have it so long as he let the repairs wait until he reached the Ghostfence. Was it worth the risk? He decided it was.

That train of thought concluded, Dranas scanned the wreckage from the fight. Everyone looked badly beaten of course, including Apelles Velvus, who'd been unlucky enough to join the row unarmored. And then there were the dead--that's what really caught Dranas' eye. In particular, one poor fellow who'd fallen in his very very fine glass armor. Sure would be a shame to let that go to waste, Dranas thought. He strode over to the fallen figure with a purpose, ignoring the sudden appearance of a young, tall Breton. Forget combat--now it was time for commerce.

Dralas

The fight was dying down, but Dralas nonetheless held his sword ready as he walked alongside the trio. Rothan and the pilgrim were carrying Rianne to safety, but if they came across trouble, the hunter was the only one with a free hand.

They ran (or moved as quickly as possible while carrying a person) through the dark corridors that led to the other side of the ruins where the caravan rested outside. No monsters hindered them, but a small group of guards shoved past them to clean up the few remaining daedra.

When they made it outside, the sunlight hurt Dralas' eyes; a result of time spent in the darkness of the ruin. There was a number of dead and wounded laid out in rows on the grass. The daedra did their work well, it seemed. A few priests and alcemists milled about, tending the patients. They put Rianne down among them.

"How do you feel?" he asked her.

OOC: if i moved things too fast, i'll edit. i just didn't see much else to do inside.

Erna

Well, it was done, and Erna was pleased.

It was a good plan, as his spur of the moment ones went. The cramped, confined room had become a killing ground, and even though the guards were now dealing with the last of the daedra, the damage had been done.

The temple would be considered a no-go area, and without a doubt the caravans would avoid it, putting yet more pressure on the fence, which, if the rumours Erna had heard were true, was already struggling. As well as that, he had reclaimed Mehrunes Dagon's territory-hopefully his master would notice and there would be a reward.

He clambered up the stairs, into the sunlight, and smiled.

Today had been a good day.

Haz OOC: I really need to think of something to do for Eno one of these days. Meh, he'll probably end up sitting at camp listening to other people's stories. Maybe he should pick up writing and become a chronicler or something. Anyway, back to our scheduled piece of Argonian.


With the Ashlander's help, Rothan and Haz got away unscathed. Haz left the choosing of their path to the priest, who knew better than him when it came down to finding other healers. In the end, Rothan led them outside, to a place that had both become an improvised ward for the wounded, and a morgue. Still following Rothan's directions, Haz managed to lower Rianne down to the floor in a way that would put minimal strain on her injured body. He hadn't even let go of her arms when Dralas knelt down beside her to ask her how she felt. The Argonian shrugged, happy to let the woman have all the attention. Perhaps now he could get back to what he should have been doing in the first place, finding something with which to cover his slave bracers.

Originally their glow had been hidden by some simple paint that was meant to be washed off with water once at Ghostgate. But the Scamp's fireball had managed to burn that off. Haz concluded that the bustling chaos all around him, and everyone's focus on the wounded and the dead, was the only reason why no one had really noticed. Well, no one except Rothan.

The Argonian's eyes surveyed the scene as he stood next to the two Ashlanders. What caught his eyes was a roll of bandages that had fallen from one healer's bag. Seeing as how it was now dirty with ash and he still had other bandages, the healer had carried on towards his patients without slowing down. Haz made a quick check to make sure no one was watching what he was doing, before scooping it up.
"This will do. And besides, I can always say I got injured in the fighting if anyone asks." He thought as he began to wrap the bracers with the bandage, shielding his actions from any potential observer with his sleeves.

Rianne

She was mostly conscious when she was carried away from the fight scene by Rothan and the pilgrim.

Who is he? and what is that shining thing on his arm?

Then Dralas showed up and she forgot about everything else. When he asked her how she was, she was tempted to say OK for a second, but she surely didn't look as she was anything near ok so instead she whispered:

"I'm alive...that's all that matters, but please could you take out the worn and dirty parchment from my backpack....read the runes for me, you'll recognize them when you see them..please Dralas..it must be you who reads them..."



OOC: Yes Rianne noticed the bracelet on Haz' arm but she still hasn't actually seen what it is. If you're not ok with this I'll edit!

OOC: Well, he did carry her so it's not odd at all that she would catch a glimpse or two of the glowing arm decoration of doom. So no need to edit. With that said....
Eno

Eno had done as he'd been told, or threatened more accurately. He stuck with the unconscious soldier, till some clerks unceremoniously picked the man up and carried him over to the improvised healing office. Now Eno was loitering at the edge of the camp next to his Guar. He had taken out the Kagouti bone and continued the long job of hollowing it out, grateful for the distraction.

"Hey, you!" Someone shouted. Eno dropped what he was doing and looked up, the panic returning in his eyes. He was convinced that the Daedra had broken through and this man was here to tell him to run.
"Get your Guar ready. We're moving by nightfall." The Dunmer continued. Eno now saw that he was wearing the robes of a temple official. At least the crowd behind the man seemed unaware of a rampaging horde of monsters. Maybe they were safe after all.
"Nightfall? But we can't do that. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there at night?" Eno stammered.

"Do YOU have any idea how dangerous it is if we stay?" The priest countered, turning towards the other members of the caravan as he did so. "As the temple's representative of this camp, I command everyone who is able to walk to prepare themselves. Take everything you can carry, prioritizing food supplies. Leave behind all jewelry and other weight that is unneeded for your survival. Do not question my orders! We're leaving by nightfall."


OOC: Good enough? If you guys had rather have someone with a different profession take charge, then let's just assume that this guy is just relaying orders.

James.

James shook his head at the stupidity of the priest, really moving at night, with daedra and the Divines knew what else after them. Angrily he moved over to where the priest stood, it was practically his civic duty to try and dissuade them from leaving.

"Listen, I realize that you must have been one of the unfortunate ones when it came to distribution of intelligence, but why do we have to move at night when we have a perfectly defendable daedra ruin to stay in...for the night at least".

OOC: Yes he is cranky after being nearly trampled and killed.

Dranas Heleran

Dranas was limping back to his camp (he'd managed to heal his wounds, but now was sore from exertion) when he overhead the Breton berating the Temple priest. He couldn't resist piping up.

"Hell, it's going to take a couple hours anyway for all these slackers here to get set to leave--and that's ignoring all the wounded we've got to deal with. So I'd suggest both of you quit your bellyaching and see to your own gear. I don't want to get all my outfit ready and then have to stand around and wait."

Satisfied that he'd been heard, Dranas lit up a hackle-lo (easing his aching body, if only a little) and walked away.

James.

James gaped in self righteous outrage, here he was exercising his talented wit at the unuspecting Temple prist and then some...twit had the gall to show up and berate HIM...that just wouldn't do.

"That's...completely beside the point", he yelled at Dranas retreating back. "Not my fault that other people have unpacked their stuff for some reason", he continued to mumble for himself.

Now even more grumpy he tore into the priest again. "Well, have your steaming pile of ineptidue that you call a brain come up with a decision yet or do require me to bring out parchment and ink so that I may draw a crude sketch of my suggestion?"

Priest.

The priest was now fuming. That someone, or rather three now, had dared to talk back to him was bad enough, but that one of them was an outlander of all things was just too much.
"Was your advice requested? I think not, Outlander! And even if it had been, you are in no position to give it. In case you haven't noticed, this here is not your nice, hospitable and oh so convenient homeland! This is Vvardenfell and if you had been born here, you would know what's best and what's not. But since you aren't, your only options are to stay with those who do know and do what they do, or go off on your own and see your lifespan significantly reduced. Now if you are willing to take MY advice, I suggest you get ready for the journey because if you are still sitting on your....posterior when we're ready to leave, then you may find out just how safe this ruin is all by yourself. I hope you'll enjoy it!" He snapped at the Breton, who was the most obnoxious of the bunch in his mind.

Eno

Eno shook his head.
"Well, there go my wares. Come on, youngster. Don't agitate him any further. He is a priest after all. And the temple is...close with those who guard us." He muttered, hoping that James got the hint. There was always the possibility that those Daedra hadn't just come out of nowhere, but had rather been summoned at the moment the caravan was weakest. With everything that had happened, all the people, friends and colleagues who had died, he knew that the choice to seek someone, anyone to blame for it all was a tempting one. And if so, who better to blame than a loudmouthed outlander? Eno himself preferred not to think about what could happen if they had a summoner in their midst.

The first impression he'd received of James wasn't a good one either, but it had convinced him that the man was if anything, at least not a summoner. He was too blunt for that.

James.

James sighed and pinched his nose, really was he the only one in this bunch who possessed an intelligence higher than that of a rat?

"As you wish your worshipfulness", he sneered to the priest before turning to the other man who had adviced him to shut up, albeit in a nice way at least.

"Very well, its for the best I suppose, must not hurt his mind with big words...name is james by the way", he said to Eno.

Dralas

Dralas soon figured out why he had to be the one to read the scroll, as the incantation was in the language of the ashlands. He spoke the words, and watched as the magicka did its work. Rianne seemed better almost immediately, and he smiled at her before looking up to see his helpers.

The priest was still with them, but the pilgrim had already went his own way. Dralas spotted him crouched among the wounded.

"Thanks...Rothan, was it?" he said, trying to remember the dunmer's name, "I don't know if we could have made it out without you and your friend."

OOC: Now that I think about it, wasn't Dralas injured as well? Stabbed in the arm by a Hunger?

Eno

Eno felt inapropriately amused at James insistence on taking a final stab at the priest. So he made a little bow to the man.
"Eno Arval, a pleasure to make your aquaintance." He replied, before looking at the Kagouti bone he was still holding.
"Well, I suppose this counts as too heavy and not required for survival. It's a shame really, I was looking forward to the months of work on it. Ah well, such is life." He said with a shrug, and unceremoniously dropped it in the dust.
"So we're abandoning this place. While I admit I'd rather not stay here another second, leaving at this point is indeed, about as foolish as staying. And I'm not just saying that because of the regular dangers, but also because it appears that a good half of the caravan had decided to celebrate their arrival at the half-way mark." He noted, castinga glance over his shoulder.
"The healers had better find some way to sober everyone up quick, or things will only get worse."

James.

James smiled, here was a man of his own taste...that meaning nothing more than not being an inbred swine, and he could appreciate a good insult.

James Pathertrory is the name...sneaking about is the game, and the pleasure is mine Mr.Arval...though if these inept sheep are stupid enough to drink a Nord under the table after an attack like this then they deserve to enjoy the fruits of the next morning...though I suppose I could mix up a healing draught that tastes bad enough that they'll shudder at the mere mention of alcohol for years after".

James shrugged for himself as he dragged out his alchemy set from a bag that shouldn't be able to even hold a potion flask.

"So should we add an extract of warm liquid Kagouti droppings, or fresh troll vomit for some nice seasoning?"

Rothan

"Yes it is Rothan," he said nodding to the ashlander, "You must remember that the temple teaches compassion, even if the ordinators sometimes," he paused, "focus elsewhere."

He turned his attention back to Rianne and was surprised by the power of the healing spell the scroll had contained. "How are you?" he asked Rianne. Half turning to Dralas so he spoke to both he asked, "What was the plant you gave me, it had green heart shaped leaves? I didn't recognise it."

The woman seemed to know about healing, and the scroll hadn't been made by some idiot conjurer...

Erna

Well, it was over. A pity really, come to think of it.

Still, the damage had been done. Hopefully he could get people in enough of a panic about daedra possibly coming back that he could get them moving. The chances of them breaking through the walls of reality were actually fairly small, but people were jittery and on edge after the attack. And if a caravan was picked off whilst travelling then it would only add to the strain the construction site was suffering.

He might be killed, but that wouldn't be the end of the world. He was smart, he could slip away from an attack. Hell, worst case scenario, he had a common target with the temple; some of the blight-creatures were smart, and he could probably persuade them that he could lend a hand.

Still, he needed to get the caravan moving.

He went and found his guar, grabbing the creature's reins, before moving round to the temple's open yard where a frantic looking priest was trying to get things organised.

"Excuse me sir," he called, loud enough to be heard. "When are we moving?"

OOC: Yes, it's the same priest that Rothan and James were talking to.

Rianne

"I'm much better, thank you!" she smiled at Rothan "I do know some useful things now and then" she continued

"Those leaves...eh they're growing near the Ahemmusa Camp, our Wise Woman has always used them for healing wounds...deep wounds, and you did the right thing by crushing them into a paste..maybe you, too, know some useful things now and then?"

She noticed there was some paste left and took it in her hand to warm it up.

"Dralas! Come let me put this on the wound in your arm!"

She then turned to Rothan;

"I don't know about that Breton, he makes me feel uneasy, but that's maybe because he's just that...a Breton. Anyway if you would be so kind and help me...maybe you could find some water? I'm planning to prepare some drinks for us..."

While she had been speaking to Rothan she also rubbed the green paste into the wound in Dralas' arm. The ashlander didn't say a word, even though she knew it hurt, but with the ain came relief...or was it the words she whispered afterwards?

muskler, dra er samman

That done she took out a black, somewhat shimmering bottle from her pack...and looked at it sternly, while she once again whispered some words, nobody but Dralas would understand, but maybe he didn't hear. He was sitting on the ground, all silent...

Well if this won't pick us up, nothing will! I hope he'll find water...this must be diluted

Rianne smiled faintly...at nobody

Dralas

Dralas let Rianne tend his wound, but he also let his mind wander. He didn't know what caused the daedra attack, and he doubted anyone else did. Dralas suddenly remembered that he'd dropped his bow inside the ruin as he watched those around him rush to get things packed and moving again.

We left Morrie at that cave, too...

Rianne said something, but he didn't know exactly what. He did know, however, that he felt much better all of a sudden, and he wasn't about to be punished for losing Temple materials.

"Thanks," he said to Rianne, stretching his newly-healed arm as if testing its functionality, "We need to get Morrie, though. I'll go fetch him and meet you back here."

Rothan

"I don't know about that Breton, he makes me feel uneasy, but that's maybe because he's just that...a Breton. Anyway if you would be so kind and help me...maybe you could find some water? I'm planning to prepare some drinks for us..." said Rianne.

Rothan wandered which Breton she meant as he turn to fetch water then he saw Eno and a man he didn't recognise arguing with a priest. He didn't blame them, though he could only see the back of the templeman's head he thought he recognised the mer as being a bit full of himself. He took a closer look at the Breton then shrugged. There was nothing he could see wrong but there was something about the ashlander he couldn't quite place.

He started off to get a skin of water from the healers and vaguely wandered what sort of drink Rianne had meant. Was it some ashlander custom? Either way he intended to accept, not just to show courtesy but if he got the chance there were a couple of ashlander legends sourced in the heretical book he carried which would be wrong, of course, but nonetheless he wanted to confirm himself. When no one was listening, of course. He picked up a waterskin and a healer glanced up but saw his robes and ignored him.

When he arrived back where the ashlanders had been he noticed Dralas had gone. "Water," he said handing the skin to Rianne.