Rianne

"Sure! I still got gold and I don't think anyone would say no to a coin or two...maybe they even will get us some food."

She jumped to her feet, took Dralas by his hand and headed for the inside of the shrine.

Rothan

"Is a priest required for any duties?" Rothan asked the mer in long robes.

The bureaucrat looked at him, "Well other than housekeeping..." he broke off looking at the entrance. Rothan looked back and saw the two ashlanders who had fallen behind with them. "By Vivec," muttered the steward, "Not their type. Why do they have to come here and bother me. Yes I have a duty for you, see what they want or make them go away. Just keep the swits out my sight." He turned back to his papers.

Rothan looked at the pair and wandered what they were up to. What could bring two ashlanders into a temple caravan? He severely doubted it was a sudden vision of faith in Almsivi. He chided himself, what of the grace of courtesy? Clearly the steward was under pressure so it fell to him to offer them welcome. And besides he wouldn't mind asking them about certain myths referenced in the banned book he carried.

He wandered over to the entrance, "You look lost, can I help you?"

Rianne

Rianne gave the man who approached them a friendly smile, she was somewhat aware of that the others in the caravan didn't exacyly love Dralas and herself, the curse of being ashlander she thought.

"Yes, Serjo, you actually can help us by telling where we can find something to eat, we are rather hungry by now"

She gave Dralas a quick glance and squeezed his hand....it felt good to have a true friend, and she really liked Dralas...really liked him!

Rothan

Rothan returned the woman's smile, "Of course, I'm not certain but I think there are vendors though there," he pointed at a door off the main chamber he'd seen most people wandering through, "I was thinking of getting some myself, please, join me."

He walked over to the door and entered. A few vendors had stalls round the room, there was a bookseller, a smith and a odd looking dunmer pedalling a range of oddments. Opposite them were the food stalls offering a variety of simple fair. In the corner was a temple stall offering some sort of stew, by the smell which filled the room ashyam featured heavily.

Rothan turned to the ashlanders, "I can offer you temple food if you wish." It had been a while since he'd visited the shrine of generosity so he made up where he could.


OOC: again I took the liberty of assuming they would go there (as seemed obvious), if this is an issue tell me and I'll edit and stop doing it

Erna

With Khallet's help, Erna drew the summoning octagon, a shape bordered with jagged and twisting geometrical patterns. Khallet murmured some words and the flames burned higher, their diabolical illumination sending shadows in a schizophrenic, mad dance.

There were a few shelves in the deep dark corner of the hall, stacked high with books. Khallet fetched the ones with the appropriate incantations, Erna found the page he wanted, and started chanting rapidly in daedric,

The summoning had begun.

Soon, hell would be unleashed.

OOC: The summoning can be indefinitely long, so folks can get their characters in place. Once you're ready I'll start the attack. I'm tempted to write it from Khallet's POV too-I've developed a soft spot for him.

Haz

Haz found himself placed before a serious dilemma. At least, it was a serious one for him. On the one hand, he knew that he was safest while he was alone. But that safety only lasted for as long as he remained near the camp, which was something he couldn't do. His target was the building site and to reach it safely, he would have to rejoin the caravan.

"Now I could just stay here and try to join up without a fuss again by morning. But my garb is quite distinctive. They'll recognize me and ask questions. So I should go in and show my presence so that they've gotten used to me again by morning. With the elves mingling about, I might pull it off without blowing my cover." He thought and sighed. It really would be best for him in the end if he just got himself registered. With those thoughts, he ventured into the camp and ascended the stairs to the entrance of the shrine.

Eno Arval

"There is truth in those words but I am just lacking in faith. Maybe they were foolish when they let us go alone. Perhaps it was continuing foolishness that made them travel on without even thinking of looking back. Or perhaps they felt they were completely inadequate to deal with any trouble we might have gotten into. And if they felt that way, then how much safer would it really be to stay close to them?" Eno muttered to himself as Rothan wandered off to speak with to an official looking person.

Eno's eyes swept around the chamber in search of a scribe. He waved a greeting at the two Ashlanders as they came down the stairs and rose an eyebrow when Rothan was apparently ordered by the official to speak to them.
"That man probably wants them to leave because they aren't dressed like a temple-going city Dunmer, yet doesn't want to lower himself to telling them himself. It's a bit of a shame to find such shortsighted people within the temple of ALMSIVI. Those two are good people, I think."

Eno shook his head as Rothan led the Ashlanders to another room and returned to the task of seeking out a scribe.
"Yes? Please hurry it up, I don't have all day." The rather young Dunmer said without looking up when Eno's shadow fell over the parchment he'd been working on.
"If I may have a moment of your time, sir. Would you happen to know when the next caravan leaves?" The instrument-maker asked.
"Tomorrow morning most likely. Straight line to Ghostgate. Everyone knows that. Stop wasting my time, old man."

Eno felt slightly offended at the brusque answer he received.
"No, forgive me for misphrasing my inquiry. I did not mean the caravan to Ghostgate. I meant the caravan to Balmora." He clarified, his voice growing somewhat terse.
Now the scribe did look up, with a mixture of astonishment and contempt upon his face.
"Balmora?! There is no caravan to Balmora, you wrinkly fool! Now go away. I have reports to make." He snapped.

Eno's nostrils flared. Acting upon his rising anger, he slammed a fist down on the piece of parchement, knocking over the scribe's vial of ink in the process.
"Have your parents never thought you the virtues of politeness and respect towards your elders, boy? You won't be making any report till I have received an answer. Now there has to be a caravan that goes the other way. How else are these reports..." He raised his hand and used a handkerchief to remove the ink from his fingers.
"..Ever going to come before the eyes of the Arch-canon?"

Dranas Heleran

"Damn it all, there's only some old bones in this pack. Must be the raw material for that Ghostfence. Ain't worth a damn thing to me."

Dranas continued his casual inspection of the cargo, muttering softly to himself as he went. He hadn't found much that he dared take--mostly just some hackle-lo, a little bit greef and sujamma, anything easy to carry, easy to conceal, and easy to sell. Back at his tent he stowed away what he could, rolled up and lit a leaf of hackle-lo, and gazed up at the stars. The moon was getting high--which meant that the repairs to his armor should be just about done. Slowly, he began the short walk back into the shrine.

Dralas

Dralas and Rianne entered the common area only to end up in what seemed to be the Temple's base of operation. Dralas spotted an official-looking priest speaking with another that had a familiar face. The former gave the ashlanders a rather unwelcoming look, while the latter seemed to be genuinely nice enough.

Rianne asked directions, and they ended up with a new companion. At least for lunch.

"You're very gracious," he said to the priest, though he felt bad about taking without having something to give in return, and even worse about eating from the Temple's kitchens. But he'd already been smoking their hackle-lo, and would soon be working for them. What more harm could eating do?

"We've seen each other, but never met. I'm Dralas Lasamsi, and this is Rianne," he instinctively gave an ashlander hand sign, but remembered afterwards to shake hands, as was the custom of most Imperial citizens.

Rianne

She smiled inside when she noticed Dralas' handsign, and then his handshake.

Hmm he do know some customs of the others, good that will probably make things a tad easier

She then took out some gold from her backpack and offered it to the priest.

"Here, allow me to give a donation to the Temple, its from both of us"

There, we can now eat in peace

"c'mon Dralas, let's eat!" she grabbed a piece of bread and then forgot all around her, concentration on the food.

Rothan

Rothan took Dralas's hand, "Good to meet you, I'm Rothan Sarayn."

After they had helped themselves to food the ashlander named Rianne offered some money. Rothan had noticed she either lacked or didn't tell her second name, but then ashlanders were foreign for all they lived so close. "My thanks, and those of the Temple," he said taking the gold, he would deposit it at a offering bowl later.

For a while they ate in silence. The food awakened the hunger in him and he ate ravenously. Once the edge had been blunted from his appetite he swallowed a mouthful of bread and said, "So what brings you along with this caravan?"

Apelles Velvus

Apelles and Ralas returned to the main chamber and then parted ways. Salms needed to continue to fight the losing battle for reinforcements. Apelles needed to eat.

He made his way to the large room where the merchants and dining hall were. He looked around at the food merchants. He saw a butcher hawking various cuts of hound and kagouti meat. Another merchant seemed to be selling a variety of cuttles and cheeses. Still another sold fruit.

This far from the nearest market, I doubt any of this food is very fresh, Apelles thought to himself. I'd go for something that's already been cooked, if I can get it.

Then his nose turned his attention to the corner, from which the strong smell of ash yams emanated. There he saw a Temple-operated stall serving a hot stew. It looked and smelled nourishing enough, so he threw some coins into the offering basket and helped himself to a bowl and a piece of bread.

Apelles looked around the room. It was crowded with people eating. There didn't seem to be too many good places to sit, and he didn't want to go outside to eat. Suddenly, he noticed three familiar faces sitting and eating near the wall - the two Ashlanders and the priest.

Well, I might as well eat with people I'm familiar with, Apelles thought. Besides, I might even get to know them a bit more.

He walked over to where the three were sitting.

"Excuse me, would you mind if I join you?"

Dralas

Dralas was at a loss as to what to say to Rothan; it wouldn't be the smartest thing to tell a priest that you wanted to take something back from the Temple. Luckily for him, the escort from the guar incident approached the table before he could answer the question.

"There's room for one more. Have a seat," he said to the Imperial, motioning to the empty chair across from him and Rianne, but beside Rothan.

Rianne

She smiled at Rothan, but said nothing at first. Of course she couldn't exactly tell him the whole truth but maybe another version of it.

"Oh .." she said vaguely "I figure I could be of some use with the work at Ghostfence, I'm pretty good with herbs and stuff"

Rianne continued eating, but when the Imperial approached them she nearly choked.

Ah great, an imperial lackey! I could loose my appetite for less!

The Imperial asked very politely if he could join them; Rianne's first impulse ws to shout at him to go to some very warm place and then stab him with her knife, but since Dralas obviously thought it was OK she didn't make a move, except putting down her eating-equipment. She felt physically sick and had to struggle very hard to stay put and not show the whirling emotions inside her.

She put a friendly smile on her face...although those who knew her could see that it hardly was sincere.

Rothan

Rothan recognised the imperial as one of those who’d been with them when the ashlanders attacked. A hired guard probably. He tried not to edge away in distaste, if the temple hired him then so be it but he was still and outlander, and an Imperial at that. Glancing across he saw Rianne was no more pleased with the foreigner than he, she hid it well but she had stopped eating.

He gave the outlander a curt nod before turning back to the ashlander woman, “Apologies,” he said, “Are you temple goers then?” He couldn’t imagine anyone else wanting to give time to the project, but Dralas hardly looked civilised.

Dralas

"We're not Temple goers," he answered honestly, "But the Blight from Red Mountain affects us all. The herds are getting smaller and sicklier, and the hunting grounds more dangerous to travel. Now we rely heavily on traveling merchants, so we come to help the ghostfence effort and earn some gold as well."

He noticed both Rianne and Rothan's aversion to the Imperial, and while he had no love for outlanders himself, he did have a certain respect for this one since they accidentally split from the caravan. The escort had an air of experience about him, and the fight with the rogues proved it. Dralas ate another spoonful of stew. Food had been scarce lately and he couldn't deny his hunger.

Apelles Velvus

"I'm not a templegoer, either," Apelles said, noting the obvious, "and I agree completely. And House Hlaalu does as well, which is why they sent me. You don't need to be a templegoer to know that it's bad for the wildlife, it's bad for business, and more importantly, it's bad for every living thing that walks on the Mundus."

And even more importantly, it's bad for our future settlements and ore prospecting, Apelles thought cynically to himself. Ah, what's the difference, though? I'm doing my duty and saving lives. Besides, the House has always treated me well, even through my skooma addiction. They pay me well, too - very well. I figure the Council can do whatever they want with their slice of the island. Whatever their motivation may be, I'm going to do my job.

Apelles continued eating. He had noted the way the others had responded to him. The priest seemed to have rather begrudgingly accepted his presence (emphasis on begrudgingly). The Ashlander woman made a rather insincere attempt at smiling at him - her mouth smiled but her eyes did not. But the other Ashlander's expression was something he could not read - not entirely friendly, but not as hostile as the others.

Apelles was used to seeing such reactions from the native Dunmer - the Hlaalu tended to be an exception. The Empire was tolerated but not very well-liked - particularly not by the Temple and especially not by Ashlanders. Ironically, after having been to the Ashlands on many occasions, the Ashlanders were probably the people he respected the most out of anyone on the island. To be able to survive there was a sign of admirable strength and endurance.

"In any case, I find it heartening that one cause can unite a band of individuals of such disparate backgrounds."

Rianne

She sat silent, feeling sick when she noticed how Dralas just continued eating, even though she was completely aware of the sensibility in doing it. Food was rare so she should really try to eat more.

"Well that's how it is" she said in a low voice "There are things that can unite different people"

She still felt uneasy in the imperial's company


What if he knows Marcus? What if Marcus sent him to capture me? I swear I'll kill him if I find that out

Rothan

Rothan listened to the heathen spout about the common good with doubt. The Hlaalu and Imperials shared a passion: wealth, it was why they got on. An Imperial in Hlaalu was something he didn't want to contemplate. The question was how was he on the make.

"Yes," he said, "I'm sure it only happens to be a convenient way to get onto the island. You won't be doing any prospecting will you? Vvardenfell is not open for settlement or trade under temple law, so know that I will be watching you and reporting."

OOC: Eh, Olen - Apelles didn't say the part about settlement out loud - he isn't allowed to in any event. That was his internal monologue, which is why it was in italics rather than quotation marks. I probably could have made that clearer.

Edit: Double post.

Apelles Velvus

Apelles swallowed another spoonful of soup as the priest made his veiled (yet admittedly accurate) accusations. He remained calm - it's not as though it was very difficult to figure out. He chose his next words carefully.

"We are quite aware of that law, and we respect and obey the Temple's authority in this matter. In fact, I have personally reported and even cleared several squatter settlements - near and around Balmora, and elsewhere on the island. My last mission prior to this one was preventing the construction of a settlement in the middle of Molag Amur, of all places. House Hlaalu is not interested in breaking the law - any who did so would certainly be prosecuted."

The part about the squatters actually was true. He had cleared out several settlements - mostly rival Telvanni, but there were a few renegade Hlaalu who were mining and prospecting without the Council's permission. It was good to keep up appearances, and not be too aggressive, lest our hand be overplayed. The nobles stood to gain much more if settlement was opened legally.

Dralas

"So you have the right to force others off the very land that you yourself have no right to?" he asked. It wasn't really his place to speak, but he did anyway. It sounded to him like Hlaalu had already marked the land they wanted so that the moment the law changed, they could be taken.

Besides, the Erabenimsun usually made camp in the Molag Amur region; would Hlaalu be taking the territory in the coming months?

Dranas Heleran

The smoke from his rolled hackle-lo blended with torch-smoke as Dranas Heleran stepped back into the shrine and let his eyes adjust to the odd interplay of firelight and daedric geometry.

"Hmph. Getting to feel naked without that damned pauldron on. I bloody well hope these Temple blighters knew what they were doing when they cleared this den out."

Once accustomed to the dim light Dranas wasted no time in making his way to the armorer's stall, where he collected his scrap of netch leather and immediately strapped it on over his shoulder. Now feeling much better, he was free to observe the gathered masses in the common area. Mostly there were just the Temple bureaucrats. He also counted a couple of armigers, and an ordinator in the glossy golden armor that comes standard in that order--pricey stuff, Dranas thought, but hard to move. Still, one could make a fortune selling it in the Heartlands, if one had the right buyer. If one could get any of the armor. If one could get it to port. If one could do all the above without getting killed.

Dranas Heleran was finally (mercifully, one might say, if one were privy to Dranas Heleran's innermost thoughts, which were almost always about commerce) distracted from this line of thinking when he spotted a familiar face. Actually, four familiar faces, to be somewhat more precise. One extremely familiar face and three somewhat familiar faces, to be much more precise. The priest, the two ashlanders, and his old foil Apelles Velvus were all seated together, eating and chatting. Now what on mundus could they be talking about?

Apelles Velvus

Apelles resisted the urge to fidget in his chair. They seemed to be asking all the right questions. As a younger man, he'd throttled people for being that straightforward. Now, as an older, and wiser man, he composed himself for a moment, choosing his words very carefully. And then he spoke.

"Well, we have to follow the law. I've reported other Hlaalu as well. Why should it be any different for anybody else? Besides, the authorities don't seem to object."

He paused to eat another spoonful, then continued, his intensity and focus increasing with every word. "Look, I know my House's reputation. And I know why you're looking at everything I say through the lens of business and politics. But I'm neither a businessman nor a politician. I am a scout and a soldier, and I try do my job as best I can. Yes, Hlaalu has a lot of businessmen. But it also has soldiers and farmers, just as Redoran has businessmen. And it's just as much my House as it is theirs. And I will defend my House, and its honor, to the hilt - just as you would defend your clan," he gestured toward the Ashlanders, "or your Temple." He nodded toward the priest.

"And I'll defend this country, too. I've lived here for twenty years - and I reckon I'll probably die here, too. I'd be just as willing to die for it. Things like loyalty and honor aren't unknown to the Hlaalu. They don't exist in the names of Great Houses, but in the hearts of men and mer.

"So I ask you to believe me - not as a Hlaalu, but as a man - when I say that I haven't come here to defy the Temple or pillage your lands. And despite what you may think, that's not why my House sent me, either."

Apelles exhaled deeply and ate another spoonful. Oddly enough, he had managed to lie about the Council's intentions while still believing every word he'd said.

Khallet

It was done. By Dagon, it was done. He would be free!

Within the hall, the daedra crawled. A trio of clannfears hooted and clacked their beaks, while another three hungers hissed and spat at each other. But they wouldn't attack each other. Not when there was much more delicious prey to be found.

The Dremora turned to the mortal that called himself Erna, and bowed deeply.

"Will you accompany us?" he asked. "Take the honour of battle?"

"Alas no," Erna said. "My duties take me further North."

He mimicked Khallet's bow.

"Glory in death," he said. "Hopefully we shall meet again in Oblivion."

Khallet smiled, before roaring; "Children of Dagon! We shall cleanse this place of its stain!"

The assembled daedra hooted, howled or screamed their assent, and followed their leader in a formation of the most ragtag army seen in Vvardenfel's recent history. After a moment, they reached the wall of thick, claggy ash clay that had kept Khallet trapped for many years. There were marks in there, when he had tried to once dig his way to freedom, but that was long ago.

Now, however, he could be free. With a shriek, the clannfears threw themselves on the clay, tearing great sods of wet earth away with their talons.

Soon, Khallet thought. Soon, they would be free.


Erna

Erna scrambled out of the hole he had dug, and, remembering the guard's directions, hurried towards the central area of the temple, wiping himself clean of dirt as he went. If he couldn't remove it by the time he got to the central part, he could just say he tripped. There were treacherous stones sticking up out of the dirt at random moments, after all.

Hopefully, he should arrive just in time for the fun to start.

Rianne

She had begun to eat again, listening to the conversation around the table, with a stern look at Apelles Velvus

He's a talking type, that Imperial, bla, bla bla, very self-centered, as all of his kind


"Excuse me!" she said loud and clear " Mr Imperial, I do not believe a word of what you just said, you are a skilled lier, as most members of Great House Hlaalu, and like most Imperials. And believe me, I know what I am talking about"

She moved her hands, making sure Dralas would notice...

Watch out he's not to be trusted!

Apelles Velvus

Apelles glared back at the Ashlander woman. "No offense to you, milady," he said between gritted teeth, "but I don't give a damn if you believe me or not."

Suddenly, a loud crashing sound came in from the next room, followed by terrified screaming, and a host of demonic growls.

Apelles stood up from his chair and drew his sword. He had heard these sounds before. "Daedra," he snarled. Then he turned back toward the Ashlanders. "I hope you have your weapons with you. Because we're going to need them."

He turned back and began dashing toward chamber from whence the noise was coming. He had neither his armor nor his shield with him. But he did have a sharp sword, and plenty of targets to drive the pointy end into.

Rothan

Rothan barely trusted his ears. But there was no denying it, he recognised those snarls: clannfears. He shivered remembering how his last meeting with one had gone. Apelles shouted and ran for the source of the growls. Rothan reached into his bag and raked for for his cudgel. He pulled it out as he remembered it had broken in the fight with the ashlanders. He cursed his sloth in not having it mended. Bare hands it was then, that hadn't worked so well last time.

Who had cleansed the shrine? Daedra shouldn't be appearing like that. He wandered whether someone had botched the ritual, or sabotaged it. It was that or someone had summoned them. He didn't want to go through, but knew he had to, if only to observe for his report and try to help the injured.

He grabbed a table knife and followed Apelles.

Eno Arval

"There is only one convoy. It goes from here to Ghostgate, then a new one is formed that goes back to Balmora. We don't have the manpower to escort tw..." The scribe's words were cut off by a thump coming from the direction of the clay wall.

Eno looked quizically at the source of the sound.
"Who made that noise?" He muttered. Then, a small piece of the wall crumbled away, and a viciously snapping beak was thrust through the gap.
"Oh, ALMSIVI! What is that?!" An acolyte yelled. Eno felt a shiver run down his spine. Suddenly, the whole place felt icily cold to him.
"Beak, Daedric shrine. Clanfear, most likely. Tribunal, protect us." He thought, remembering the crude sketches his Redoran armsmaster had used.

"Umm, I think we should evacuate, everyone. Come along, boy. Leave the fighting to the experts." The old man added, limping towards the exit as fast as his legs could carry him. He'd nearly been killed by a common Cliffracer in the past. He was not going to take his chances with a Daedra.
"If I can just get out of this place before they break through the wall...I don't want to die!"

Haz

Haz had been carefully descending the stairs when some sort of commotion broke out ahead.
"That's odd. Is there a riot going on? Wouldn't surprise me very much, with all the hatred these Dark Elves feel for their own kin." He thought to himself. For a moment he debated whether it would be wiser to turn around and wait outside till things had calmed down.
"MONSTER!!!" The sudden cry made him stop. Now there was a neverending symphony of panicked screams and...beastly roars. The Argonian realized that it really would be for the best if he turned around. But a morbid curiosity had taken hold of him and made him press on.
"This, I have to see." He muttered as he pushed his way passed the first escapees.

Dranas Heleran

Daedra!

Dranas did what any sensible mer would do--he flipped a pair of tables on their sides, hastily arranged a couple of crates, and huddled behind his improvised fortification, sword and throwing stars at the ready.

Cowardly? Perhaps. But then, in Dranas Heleran's view, racing through the dimly lit halls toward an unknown number of daedric foes was foolhardy at best and suicidal at worst.

He glanced over at the ashlanders. What in mundus were they doing?

"Hey, you two! Grab your bows and get the hell out of the open!"

Khallet

Freedom!

Finally, after so many years trapped down in the dank dark, he was out.

Free.

The clannfears had made short work of the earth wall, tearing through it and howling madly. Behind them poured the rest of the daedra, scamps, hungers and scuttling, nameless horrors, born in the deepest pits of Oblivion, tearing through the weakened skeins of reality. On their own, these nameless things were relatively weak, but they were like rats, swarming and overwhelming their foes in a tide of biting teeth and ripping claws.

Khallet roared and pointed his sabre forwards, sending the mob of daedra forward, general of a mounstrous, bestial army.

Their excavations had been heard, and a few of the elves had tried to flee already. Guards had already scrambled to position, and half a dozen arrows screamed through the air towards the daedra. A few clannfears and hungers fell, but they carried on, scamps sending fireballs out at the guards in return.

The battle had begun.

Dralas

While Dralas didn't disagree with Rianne, he didn't have much more time to think on it as the room reacted to a threat. Daedra.

Apelles strode off, sword in hand, and the merchant from earlier shouted at them to grab a bow and find cover. Dralas saw some sense in that, and ran behind a nearby pillar, pulling Rianne along with him.

Fireballs flew, and both clannfear and hungers were pouring into the chamber.

Eno Arval

Eno stumbled as something hit him in the back. He frantically glanced over his shoulder, giving himself a brief glimpse of the carnage that was about to unfold behind him, as well as finding out that his cloak had caught on fire.
"Agh! Get it off!" He yelled, tore the burning fabric from his shoulders and tossed it down at his feet before continuing on his flight to the stairs.

Haz

As he reached the end of the stairs, it became harder to move against the ever increasing tide of panicked mer. A part of him was amazed at the number of people that had made this place their home. With a sigh of relief, he managed to leap to the side when he reached the hall proper. Now that he was out of the turmoil, he could take a calm look at the far end of the hall where the guards had engaged some sort of army of hideous creatures.
"What's this? More of the local Morrowing wildlife?...No wait, that little midget just threw a fireball! These aren't mere animals and they're obviously led by some person in armour. Strange, spiky armour." He muttered under his breath. Then his eyes widened as he saw how a guard managed to duck a fireball, only to have it now heading for the Argonian.

"Dammit!" Haz cursed as he threw up his arms to shield himself from the spell. When the fireball hit, it ate through the robe in the blink of an eye. Undeterred, Haz pushed his arms forward against the flames, bringing them into direct contact with the slave bracers he wore to drain away the magic, as his instructors had taught him. The Argonian scowled as he observed the large gaps in his sleeves. He would have to find something to cover up his bracers soon, preferably scavenged from one of the dead. Though that would mean he would have to get closer to those...things.
"Agh, that makes me angry. Fine, I'll get in, grab some guy's shirt and get out! And if that means I have to poke out an eye or two, so be it! The only thing that bothers me is this robe. I can't move my legs in it." He growled to himself and began to move closer, dashing from cover to cover, usually tables he knocked over to hide behind.

Rothan

Rothan kept low. There were more daedra than he'd ever seen in one place before. The guards fought them near the opposite end of the hall but they were being hard pressed. Daedra did appear near ruins, but not in numbers like these, this had to be sabotage. He looked around but there was to much chaos to see any faces. The pilgrim was near the back watching. Rothan tried to shout to him to flee but his voice was drowned out, then a fireball emerged over the head of a guard and flew straight for the pilgrim. Rothan grimaced but when it struck the magic seemed to dissipate most of its power. Even so he feared for the pilgrim.

He stood to go to him then saw a guard fall back wounded. Which should he help? Rothan didn't know, really he wanted to run.

OOC: do you want me to push on and bother Haz or leave him be?

Rianne

She didn't hesitate when Dralas pulled her along with him, she was a bit taken when she saw the numbers of Daedras coming.

"You lead" she whispered. "I know an extremely powerful spell...though"

She waited for the best opportunity to use it.

Gah, there are too many people around, if I use VC, they'll all go...damn it

Haz

Haz's advance came to a halt when he felt the eyes of several of the tiniest monsters fall on him.
"Ah great, looks like I've been noticed." He muttered dryly, grabbed a pot and tossed it at the small pack, causing it to scatter. He wasn't too worried about the little ones. The big ones could be a problem though. And while he was no general, even he could see that the line of guards wouldn't contain those much longer.

Sooner or later, one of the green lizards or starved looking zombies would get through. He would have to prepare for that eventuality. His hands reached for another pot in case the critters came back while he looked for something that could give him the edge, or at least prolong his life, for if he encountered something bigger. Much to his dismay, he didn't really see anything at first.

That is, till he saw a guard go down under the vicious assault of a Hunger.
"Hmmp, I could borrow that one's sword, not that those are my preferred weapon. Though I'd have to face that thing as well...I'll take the risk." He decided and dashed for the Hunger while throwing the pot, both to gain its attention and to hopefully stun it long enough to pry the sword from the wounded mer's hands.


OOC: Well, Haz is at the moment still moving so probably fine. The guard is not. Using that line of reasoning, I'd say that Rothan makes the guard his priority. Of course, you can also say that they're running towards the same guard.

Also Minque, wasn't Vomica Cruor a spell that required you to touch the victim and caused spontaneous internal combustion in only the touched victim? Since you imply that the current version is dangerous to everyone in the hall, could you please elaborate on this incarnation of the VC a bit?

And dang, I'm not quite sure why Haz is getting himself involved anyway. If he wants clothes, he could have used the confusion to steal some laundry, instead of diving into the midst of things.

Erna

Erna reached doorway to the central shrine, adopting a suitable look of concern and confusion as he did so. A pair of terrified men in scribe's robes hurried through the doorway past him. One of them was supporting his companion, who had a deep cut along one arm.

Once they were past, Erna stepped inside, before immediately diving for cover behind some crates, deciding that terror was a good one. After he was certain nobody was looking, he peeked his head over the barricades and grinned.

It was utter chaos. A few guards had already been overrun, their corpses shredded by the claws of daedra. There were several of the oblivion spawned creatures dead, but Erna did not care. He knew this attack would be enough to scare the caravan authorities away from the ruins for good, and disrupt the caravans severely. That was what he loved about Mehrunes Dagon. Even if you plan was an utter failure, the fact that it failed would be enough to be a tribute to his lord. Destruction always won.

He saw a pilgrim, still wearing a veil, throw a pot into a small pack of the minor daedra that had come through on the attack with him. They scattered, and the pilgrim took another pot. Nearby, a hunger tore another guard down, and the pilgrim noticed that too. No doubt hoping to grab the man's sword, he dashed forward and hurled his pot the hunger, the heavy ceramic slamming home and sending the thing reeling back, shrieking in pain and stunned surprise.

Erna eyes narrowed, and he watched with a sense of bemused surprise. This would be interesting.

Dranas Heleran

Dranas flung a throwing star at the nearest scamp and immediately regretted it, since the foul little daedra screeched something awful and launched a fireball his way. Dranas ducked behind his fortification just in time to avoid scorching his face.

"Throwing star versus fireball-casting daedra. Not going to work."

OOC: Jack! The VC is also remote controlled see the quote from AMU below!



Rianne

She prepared for the devastating spell. The heat in her left hand increased and she could spot a very small purple flame on her palm. It was quite some time since she used this spell now and she remembered far too well when the last time was.

Come on you beasts...I'll just cook you!

She didn't trust her accuracy so she wanted to make sure nobody was near her target

I really like to try this!

Rothan

The pilgrim seemed unhurt by the fireball so Rothan ran for the downed guard. The hunger which had ripped him open advanced to finish him. Rothan half paused then redoubled his speed, the table knife in his hand felt utterly silly, but he gripped it for what comfort it gave. He was almost at the guard when a clay pot sailed past him and smashed into the hunger's head, he didn't waste a second of its disorientation and grabbed the guard's outstretched hand and tried to pull him away.

Before he got a decent grip a scamp threw a fireball at him. He ducked and threw the knife at it but missed. With both hands he grabbed the guard and started pulling him away, but the mer was heavy and his armour didn't slide well against the ruin's floor. "Help," he shouted to any who might be listening.

Dranas Heleran

Dranas let the scamp cast another fireball (which he ducked), buying himself a scant moment to summon an ancestor ghost--provided he remembered the spell rightly.

"Ajude-me, avô!"

Dranas found himself staring into the expressionless face of a spectre.

"Don't just stand there!" Dranas yelled, chucking another throwing star at the scamp (which cried in pain, once more). "Get him!"

OOC: Ah, ok. That was before my time though. Which just reminds me that I still haven't read that rp. Anyway...

Haz

Haz grinned with satisfaction as his pot hit the beast square between the eye. That had gone a lot better than he'd expected and he reckoned he'd bought himself a few seconds. That grin vanished when he saw someone else had gotten to the guard before him.
"It's times like these that I hate tunnel vision. I hadn't noticed the priest being here." He thought darkly, his eyes trailing the latest fireball back to its source.
"Help!" The priest shouted. To Haz, it seemed obvious that the plea for aid was more meant for the guard than for himself.
"What a self-sacrificing person. If he wasn't a Dark Elf, I might just start to respect him." The Argonian groaned inwardly.


Another of the midgets was the culprit, dancing around and cackling madly as it formed another flame in its outstretched hands. All of its attention was on Rothan, so Haz found it an easy matter to slide to the left three steps and throw himself on top of it, one hand raised to stiffle the fire with his slave bracer, the other being used to slam the Scamp's skull against the floor with all the weight that a full-grown Argonian could bring to bear.

Otherwordly or not, bone was still bone and there was no way for the Scamp to avoid having its face restructured by the impact with the hard floor. Haz left it laying where it was, either dead or unconscious. Not that he cared. All he cared about was the need to move quickly. His assault hadn't taken only a few seconds, but his eyes had been on the Hunger all the time and he knew that the monster had shaken off most of its surprise. Now its tongue was lashing back and forth as it shrieked in a mad rage. It would be coming for him soon, and although the guard had managed to injure its side during their brief struggle, Haz knew that it was still far faster than him.

"The sword, priest! Give me the sword or we're both death!" Haz hissed at Rothan, running for the man and the guard he was trying to drag to safety. For the moment, the need for deception was secondary to the need to keep his head on his shoulders.

Khallet

Khallet's sword slammed home into the stomach of a guard, the Oblivion forged weapon punching through the mer's chainmail with ease. The soldier fell limp and lifeless, and Khallet kicked the man off his blade, already bringing it up to confront the next target.

There was a shriek from behind him, and he span to a clannfear sail through the air, its chest crushed by a mace. Khallet looked for who could dispatch such an opponent with obvious ease and found him.

He fought with deadly precision and skill, golden and purple armour spattered with daedric blood as he smashed a snarling scamp away with his mace. With reflexes born of years of training, the mer span, raised his golden shield and sent a fireball scattering away. An impassive golden mask turned and saw Khallet, the eyes behind it steely and cold.

Khallet knew the title of this man. One of the most dangerous warriors in all Vvardenfel.

Ordinator.

Their eyes met across the panicked melee and without a word being spoken a challenge was issued.

"Come mortal!" Khallet called. "Test the might of Dagon."

He raised his sabre above his head and charged.


OOC: Minque, are you planning on roasting Khallet with that spell? Only I was hoping to use him later on in the RP (Erna would snaffle him with that gem of his and keep him as insurance). And I've developed a soft spot for him too, and wouldn't mind if he made it out of the RP alive, as I'm hoping to use him again in a later one.

OOC: Well, you very obviously COULD bring him back, since you can't really KILL a daedra, just send them back to Oblivion.

Rothan

The pilgrim ran past the guard and leapt onto the scamp who'd been preparing a second fireball. As he bounced its head against the ground Rothan noticed that the pilgrim wore a funny looking bracer, almost like a slave bracer but that was unthinkable. An escaped slave posing as a pilgrim? No one would go inland though. The pilgrim's skin showed through burns the dark robe, it didn't look good. Maybe burnt, but they were the oddest burns Rothan had seen. He decided he'd have to have a look at it later.

The scamp lay broken but the pilgrim was already up and facing the hunger which had injured the guard. "The sword," he shouted. For a moment Rothan was confused then he realised the guard still had his sword in a desperate grip. The fingers were tight about it and the guard thrashed. The blood was slick under him. Rothan struggled for a moment but the hunger was looking much improved. There wasn't time so he elbowed the guard's jaw and for a moment the grip loosened. Rothan scooped the sword out and leapt up to give it to the pilgrim who took it. He stepped back a little.

"Go to it," he shouted and readied himself. When the pilgrim had all the hunger's attention he was going to try to stamp its knee.

Dranas Heleran

With the scamp distracted by the ancestor ghost, Dranas was freed to extract a vial of poison from his belt. He popped it open, emptied the contents over his blade, and darted out from his shelter. The scamp's head was severed with a single stroke.

A clannfear leaped in to take the scamp's place, claws slashing the air, beak snapping.

Rianne

The hunger that was fiercely attacking Rothan, the man who joined Dralas and her for dinner, was obviously get his target. Now that was nothing Rianne could accept.

The flame in her palm grew a bit bigger, she focused on the beast, terrified to hit Rothan... Then there was that other figure, she recognized him vaguely but couldn't really tell who he was.


She waited for an opportunity to cast her devastating spell...

May Azura be with me in this

There! Now! The hunger got a bit away from Rothan, the other man was closer but not that much


Rianne sneaked a bit closer..."Vomica Cruor" she shouted, pointing at the hunger with her left hand. A thin purple ray of light emerged from her hand and hit the hunger in its side with a poof...

As usual it was spectacular to see the effects of this spell. The hunger's body slowly grew swollen and his scream of unspeakable pain as his inside was turned into ashes was tormenting..

oh by Azura, I did it, ahhhh

Rianne stood absolutely still...watching her target slowly turn into dust

Apelles Velvus

Apelles came bounding into the chamber with his sword pointed outward, his eyes focused and intense. Behind him he could hear the sound of snarling Daedra, shattering plates, and bursts of magical flame.

His bow and his armor were both in a footlocker down in the room that served as the barracks - he had only his sword and his hunting knife. And he was charging in like a crazed Nord. Not his wisest decision - yet he was committing to it. There were officers in that chamber that the caravan could not afford to lose, and at the moment, a large number of Daedra were in that chamber.

In the main chamber a number of Armigers and Ordinators alike were fighting to fight off the Daedric horde. Hungers, Clannfears, and a number of small horrors that Apelles could not even name filled the hall. A few of the guards had already fallen before this onslaught.

Amid all the clamor and pandemonium, Apelles saw movement in his peripheral vision that caught his eye. He swung his sword around to meet it.

Then, he received a glancing scratch to his side. He turned and saw a clannfear, baring its teeth at him. He slashed furiously at it, hitting it three times and taking a medium-sized cut to the leg.

Apelles was fighting like a man possessed - not at all as he usually did. He was fighting as he had as a young man - purely on energy and instinct, like an enraged drunkard. He knew not why - perhaps the anger from the heated conversation had clouded his judgment. At the moment, he was not yet exhausted from the fighting, nor limping from his wounds. Yet somewhere, deep in the dark recesses of his mind, he knew it was just a matter of time. But he pushed these thoughts aside for now.

Then he saw it - a tall, imposing Dremora, dressed in spiky black armor and in the midst of separating an Ordinator's head from his shoulders.

Then, he saw Salms Ralas approaching it. They glanced at each other. They would need to take this one down together.


OOC: I'm assuming Khallet is a Dremora. Let me know if he isn't.

Haz

Haz took the sword and held it in front of him awkwardly. The hilt was meant to accomodate only one hand, but the Argonian felt too uncomfortable to hold it in any other way than with both. Whereas before he had cursed his tunnel vision, this time he welcomed it. The only thing he could see was the Hunger and its movements.
"Ugh! Normally I have the element of surprise. This is different."

When the snarling beast leapt, Haz performed a clumsy swing that was both executed too soon and too high to hit, leaving him unbalanced for when it would strike. The Hunger's tongue shot out, striking at his shoulder and burning yet another albeit tiny hole in his robe with its acidic saliva.
"Missed, I guess this is it then. Heh, such a pathetic fate." Haz thought as he waited for the inevitable. But fate had other plans.

The Hunger's screams changed in pitch dramatically and it collided with him not as a killer, but as a dying, popping, burning piece of meat and bones. Haz instinctively pushed it away from him and threw himself backwards, away from it. Before him, the thing that had been about to kill him was turning to ash. The Argonian felt the urge to puke. The sight wasn't the most horrible, it was the smell.
"What...just happened?" He mumbled, shaking his head. With a frown, he brought himself back to more urgent bussiness.

"Anyway, let's get out of here now, priest." He said as he tucked the sword behind his belt. Hopefully the blade wouldn't cut through his clothes anytime soon.
"You risk your life to save your kin. No matter my hate for you, I admire such actions. So, I guess I'll help this time." He thought and bent down to grab the guard by the legs.

OOC: I've described the effect of Vomica Cruor, tell me if I'm wrong and I'll edit (or do it yourself)

Rothan

Rothan shied away from a beam of purple light which passed his head. What in oblivion? he thought. It struck the hunger he faced and the daedra stopped advancing. Rothan backed away, he had no idea what the magic might do. The hunger's body began to swell and it roared pain. Rothan backed away further, this was powerful and nasty magic, he wanted to glance behind to see who had cast it but the writhing hunger held his gaze with morbid curiosity. It's skin split like an overcooked ashyam and steam rushed out in a fetid burst, then more gashes opened and he saw its insides were smouldering. Ash began to fall from it then suddenly there was only dust.

Rothan stared in shock for a moment then rushed back to the fallen guard before another daedra could fill the hunger's place. Looking back he saw Rianne had been watching the spells effect. Had she cast it or merely observed? He didn't know and the guard needed help.

Then the pilgrim was there. Rothan grabbed one of the guards arms and the pilgrim took the other. As they dragged him away towards the enterance of the cavern Rothan noticed the pilgrims arms again, the robe had been burnt by a fireball and the bracer showed through clearly. It was a slaves bracer, there was no doubting it, and the pilgrim had very odd skin. Very odd. Perhaps the pilgrimage was for a cure.

At the back of the chamber Rothan dropped the guards arm and looked at the wounds. All his stuff was in his pack, he patted his robes pockets and was relieved that he had left a bit of resin mixed with corkbulb in a packet. For a moment he fiddled with the guard's cuirass straps but they were slick with blood.

"Do you have a knife?" he asked the pilgrim.