Some more of Renee's story...being told through the eyes of Mimi (one of her companions). She wrote this back in the summer some time, I think.

I´m sure companions have a lot to say about our characters...


I can agree about sometimes just wanting to see the inside of a town tavern inn

Didn't have time to get into Kahreem this weekend, so here is one of the Renee backstories. At this point, she had moved (altogether) from Bruma to the Imperial City, around the I.C., and then to Bravil, where we saw Mimi bitching up above. Now she is in Leyawiin.


9:12 as, Frost Fall 7, 4th Era 20

"I heard that the Kvatch Guard is driving back the Daedra! Maybe there's hope after all!" * .....

.... says a dark elf in the Mage's Guild of Leyawiin. Renee and her followers had come here to Leyawiin, after days in the wilderness, because she had heard and read that Leyawiin is devoted to Mysticism. One area in which she had excelled ever since coming to Cyrodiil was in this art. The art of seeing life, especially. It was possible to buy spells, Renee had found out, which would create longer effects, and Detect Life was one in which she sorely needed an improvement.

"Go on," says a Breton, wearing a black & red robe.

"What's the news from the other parts of Tamriel?" asks the dark elf.

The Breton then goes into a small discourse about how there was some sort of syndicate of wizards who had been leading a boycott, or something such. Renee was not sure what he said. She feels drawn to this man, though. Dirty blond hair. An aroma of lavender and spices.

"Bye!"

"So long!"

As soon as their conversation had ended, the Breton wearing black then immediately turned to the nearest wall, and began throwing lightning bolts at it. SHHH PCKHHH! SHH BOMMM!This catches Renee's eye further, since he is the only mage in the guild actually practicing his craft.. She watches transfixed. Making a hidden decision.

She knows, somehow, that the man might be for hire, as so many are these days. She knows that back in the day when her mother was alive, it was almost unheard of to just be able to recruit somebody to join you from a tavern. An inn. Even a guild. But of course, times had changed. Back in those days of the Oblivion Crisis, ver few people (or beasts, for that matter) had wanted to get involved, for fear of their lives.

But those days were gone.

"You. Mage. Throwing that magic around," she says casually, hiding an eagerness.

"Go ahead please!"

"Might wanna watch where you throw those things."

"Oh? Tell me more!" After saying this, the Breton merely smiles.

"Tell me about yourself, man of magical talents."

Renee had grown tired of her current companions. Gabrielle had become nothing but a burden, rarely protecting the party, and only protecting herself reluctantly.** She often got in Renee's way as an attack commenced, attempting to use words over weapons. This is the bard's way, and it might work in some situations, but these situations are far and few between. Gabby had a habit of fawning over her best friend, attempting to boost her ego, and Renee appreciated this, appreciated where they had been and how they had gotten here, but overall, it was time for some changes.

Renee's other companion, Mimi, was doing extremely well as an adventurer. Mimi had certainly risen to the task. But Mimi was also a sword fighter, like Renee. There were many times when it did not make sense to have two sword fighters, especially if one of them swung a 2-hander. Although Mimi was headstrong, and one of the best swordfighters Renee had ever met, it seemed to make more sense if the third person of the party were some sort of spellcaster. Or archer. Renee had tried in vain to get Gabrielle to start playing this role, but Gabrielle was hopeless.

The Breton told his name: Smokey. And he also told her he was proficient in the arts of all the magic skills: Destruction, Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Mysticism, Conjuration, and even Alchemy. He had no hand-weapon skills at all, but damn-well knew his magic.

"I would like you to join me, if you please? Want to get outside in the world, go down in some holes and kill some monsters?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Renee hopes Mimi will not take her dismissal too hard.



Mimi has been left behind in Leyawiin. She had several platinum coins, a handful of gems, 132 gold, Boots of Running, a silver longsword, and mostly iron-based armor. Mimi did not take this news well, by the way.

So Renee has done the MQ without actually doing it? Sounds like a plan if you want to live in a post-crisis Cyrodiil without having to do all the work

And a new companion, too. A male companion for Renee...

"Love is in the air...in his dirty blonde hair.
Come with me, Breton, you won't regret,
I'll show you my charms, you bet.
And when you say that you're sooo skilled,
I feel so excited and thrilled!
So let's head out tonight,
'cos the night is young and we are wild."

I love you guys. And gals.

5:05 AM Evening Star 14, 3rd Era 433





The Redguard known as Kahreem carefully reads the note he'd been handed by Glarthir the Paranoid, and then he reads it again. He does not say a word, but if somebody could see the look on his face, they'd know some serious clouds were forming. Kahreem had been joyous just a few moments before, reveling in the fact that he's seemingly duped the elf known as Glarthir out of hundreds of Septims, but at this moment, Kahreem is joyous no more.

"Come to bother me with a war story, Redguard?"

A guard asks this, then stalks off briskly, maybe a little angrily. Kahreem reads the note again. Then he folds it carefully, and puts it back into one of his pockets. "He wants me to do what?" ... He knows he can now simply go to the guard who had just sneered at him, and then possibly report Glarthir the Paranoid to the proper authorities. But he doesn't do this. Instead, he decides he'll go for a walk around Skingrad, looking behind every one of Skingrad's houses until he finds a well. According to Amusei, near or inside this well should be some sort of book.

There just happens to be a well right beside Skingrad's chapel of Julianos, but there's no book here. He goes behind a couple of homes in the business of making wine (apparently). No book. A barrel is also behind this home, so he checks it just in case. No book. It's after just a few minutes of searching that he realizes the book could actually be in the well he and Amusei had passed the previous day, and this well is all the way up in Castle Skingrad's court yard.

At he begins his walk, Kahreem passes by Dion, the bald-headed captain of the guards. Kahreem thinks about it, but decides not to report Glarthir to the authorities. After all, the letter he'd been given by the crazy Bosmer is actually PROOF that Kahreem had been working with the elf--the elf everyone had warned him was 'crazy'. This sort of PROOF could actually equal jail-time, in a funny sort of way. So he decides not to risk it.

Toutius Sextius, one of the two names on Kahreem's list, leaves his home just as the Redguard walks past it.

"Oh. Hello."

As the two men walk toward one of the town's gates, through it, and then on a solitary path leading up to the castle, the Redguard realizes it would be easy to at least attempt to kill the Imperial before him. Nobody is around to witness this. But he doesn't do it. Instead, he merely follows the man, walks up to the castle...


12:28 PM

....and does not find the book he's been seeking once he locates the well.

"FOKKE!"

He cannot remember exactly the name of the home where the book is supposed to be stashed, so he goes on an hours-long search for it. Walking behind house after house, businesses and guilds. It does not appear to be anywhere. He even risks a coin for an old beggar, hoping the man has some information, but this man only tells Kahreem about imps, those little buggers. Things the Redguard already fokkinge knows.

"How are you?" asks a Nord woman wearing reddish clothes, as Kahreem happens to walk by.

"Not bad", answers the guard she greeted.

"They say that when you murder somebody, the Dark Brotherhood comes to you in your sleep. It's how they recruit new members."

"Ah-huh," the guard answers. Tell me something I don't know is his tone of voice. But then the conversation takes a sudden turn, and this piques the Redguard's interest. "What's the news from the other parts of Tamriel?"

"Glarthir is acting even stranger than usual," answers the Nord woman.

"I agree. He's always writing in that little notebook. Sometimes I think he's watching me."

"You don't say?"

"Take care!"

Kahreem raises his eyebrows at this, and risks a smirk.


6:54 PM

"Someone should teach you some manners."

Just as the sun begins to set, Kahreem comes up with yet another plan. He begins going from door to door, reading the names on various plaques. If he finds the name Amusei had told him about, this might trigger the Redguard's memory. It's not long before he finds the door he's looking for. "Nerasteral.... hah! Found you!" He lights a torch to aid his search, and at first finds nothing behind this home. But then, he notices a bush, and behind this bush is the book everybody is so eager to find.



He picks up the book, and begins thinking of nothing but getting the fokke out of Skingrad. As he makes his way back to the Two Sisters Lodge (which ironically only has one 'sister', an orc, in attendance at all times) Kahreem wonders if he should do anything about this situation with Glarthir. Then he decides he'd much rather climb into a nice, warm, rented bed instead.

...But the Weet Bandit buys a bottle of ale from the orc in attendance, who tells him to 'JUST GO AWAY!' despite all the coin he had been dropping here over the last week or so, Kahreem comes up with yet another harebrained plan.



Morndas, 10:54 PM



"Have you ..... done... what I asked?"

Kahreem had spent the rest of Sundas, and then all of Morndas inside his rented room, mulling over his plan. Thinking it over and over, because he's decided he's going to actually do the right thing, for once. Well ... "right thing" in this case is a relative term. It's the right thing to do in HIS mind. But maybe not the legal thing to do.

As the Redguard greets Glarthir the Paranoid, he suddenly puts on his very best Imperial guard's voice, and cries... "Um.... STOP RIGHT THERE ... umm... SCUMMY CRIMINAL." He pauses, knowing that's not exactly what they say, then shrugs and continues. "Ahhhh.. NOBODY breaks the law on MY WATCH". As he says this, the Redguard is suddenly hit by an urge to giggle, as Glarthir stares wide-eyed. It takes all his willpower not to just bust out laughing as he attempts to serve his phony writ. "I ahhh I am going to umm.. remove.... no CONFISCATE. Yeah, that's it. I am going to CONFISCATE all your stolen goods, Bosmer, UNLESS ..... you give me all your remaining gold. Because you see, I am not really a soldier under employ of Bravil's Countess, I am actually here to take you into custody IF... and that's a rather BIG IF .. you do not give me your coin."

"Huh? You won't help me? You're abandoning me now, just when I need you the most?!"

Kahreem notices that Glarthir has come to this meeting wearing a giant 2-handed weapon of some sort, and is suddenly glad he's wearing his full Bravil guard's outfit, and also carrying a shield and cutlass, just in case Glarthir decides to get ... nasty. "Look elf, it's easy. Pay up .... or else. A little more gold can go a long way. You want me to not report you to the guards? It's simple. All you need is to dispense a little more gold out of your fat, grubby pockets, and you'll never have to see me again."

"No.... no. I understand.," says Glarthir. "It is my problem, and I should solve it myself. You're right. I should never have involved you. Good night."

As Glarthir begins to walk away, Kahreem is suddenly dumbfounded. "But ... but ... my gold! Give me my gold, I demand of thee!"

But the elf continues to walk away. Apparently I do not make a very intimidating guard, thinks the Redguard. As Glarthir walks, Kahreem notices there's a battleaxe on his back. He begins to follow the elf. But then, the elf does a 180 degree turn, and faces the Redguard.

"You said you wanted me to solve this myself."

"I did?"

"....And I am. Drastic measure. Didn't want to, but you're right, it is the only way."

"What is the only way? C'mon, this is silly. Just give me my gold, and it'll be all over."

But again, Glarthir ignores, and also pretends to be speaking about something other than the death of two men. "Um... no... I don't know the way to the Imperial City. You'll have to ask someone else."

"Hey .. hey elf, where are you going, elf?"

"Could be ..... the Blades," Glarthir muses. "They've always seemed to be watching me!"

"Um....STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!" Kahreem tries again, finally remembering the exact words they say, but to no avail.

"Just have to take matters into my own hands!"

"You have but three choices, elf: Pay me some gold, go to jail, or resist arrest. And right now, it looks like you're resisting!"

"My enemies think I'm weak....that I'll never act." Glarhir says, now rounding the corner of Skingrad's chapel.

"STOP! ... IN THE NAME OF THE EMPIRE I COMMAND THEE TO STOP!"

"They think I don't knowwww. They think I don't see!"

The crazy elf walks over a bridge, and straight toward his own home, or so it seems, while Kahreem follows with a torch in hand. Maybe the elf will wind up walking out of town, Kahreem thinks, and then I can just take all his damn gold. But he doesn't do this.

11:56 PM
......................... SHINK!

Kahreem at first thinks that the elf has walked into his own home, but then he realizes that Glarthis has walked (instead) into Toutius Sextius's home. Once inside, Kahreem hears the sound of a weapon being drawn, and so he draws his own.

"HAA! You'll nevah take me down!"

The sounds of weapon swings and bludgeons comes from somewhere within this plush home. Acting suddenly as an actual guard, the Redguard rushes upstairs "STOP! ... YOU VIOLATED THE LAW!" ... feeling the rush of adrenaline all those guards who had pursued him during his career as a bandit, then a thief, msut have felt many times. Kahreem runs up one flight of stairs, and then another. He comes to a locked door, where the sounds of fighting are occuring.

Fortunately, the door is only locked with a two-tumbler. It takes the Redguard less than five seconds to get inside, and once he's in there, he sees Toutius being bloodied by Glarthir.



Toutius has no weapon; instead he attempts some blows on the elf with his bare hands. "STOP!" ...but of course Glarthir does not stop. Kahreem swings his cutlass at the elf...and misses. Toutius then decides to run, now that his bedroom door is unlocked. Glarthir follows him, and Kahreem follows Glarthir. The men move quickly, too quickly for Kahreem (who is slowed by his armor). Within no time, all three of them are outside, where the ruckus attracts the attention of every single guard in the vicinity.

"STOP .... FOR THE EMPIRE!" this time an actual, real guard says.

Toutius runs across the bridge, in the direction of the Chapel of Julianos, and Glarthir still follows, but now Glarthir has the company of several men follwing. Kahreem manages to catch up to Glarthir as he falters with a missed swing, and the Redguard slams him squarely on the back.

"I'm on your side!"

"You should have PAID THE FINE!" Kahreem answers. Boy, it feels good to actually say this, he realizes.

One of the guards draws a bow, while Glarthir paces away. But he's no match. As the paranoid elf rounds a corner, and Kahreem attempts a swing with his pirate's cutlass, Glarthir falls dead. "Ahhh!"



... Apparently due to a well-aimed arrow, Glarthir the Paranoid is no more, and the excitement of the night now falls. Kahreem looks to the fallen elf, then looks to one of the guards. He can see the guard's former elan has suddenly passed, and now it's back to standing around, counting the hours away dully.

"Come to bother me with a war story, Redguard?" asks the guard.

"Another day, another Septim," Kahreem of Weet answers with a grin.

"You should have paid the fine!" This one really had me cracking up. Khareem the Lawman indeed!

Kahreem the lawman!

I LOVE THIS!! I SIMPLY LOVE THIS!!

Great writing, Renee! Kahreem really seems to enjoy his "job" as a guard Maybe in time, with all his pretends as practice, he will become a real guard!

Aww thanks. It's funny because Kahreem almost didn't bother with Glarthir at all. I initially got the feeling he wanted to leave town, but then the whole guard idea came up, and that changed everything.

I personally love the pic of Glarthir's face. He always looks like a foppy little crook up to no good

Middas, 12:55 pm, Evening Star 19, 3E433

Level: 6

Days Passed: 115
Days Jailed: 24
Active Quests: 18
Qusts Cmptd: 8

Bounty: 525
Fame: 0
Infamy: 14
Items Stolen: 1,581 (take that Lothie)
Items Pick Pcktd: 2
Trespasses: 0
Assaults: 8
Horses Stln: 4



The Redguard known as the Weet Bandit makes his way slowly toward Bravil, riding a horse, of course. He carries the following: a steel cutlass (from one of the pirates whose ship he invaded long ago), a rusty iron daggar (a token from his very first escape from jail), four bottles of Cheap Wine, two bottles of healing, one bottle of sorcery (which he has no use for), an apple, a slab of salted beef, several keys and lockpicks, and most important of all, the book he is to bring to S'krivva. Lost Histories of Tamriel. This book is very important to his career as a true thief.

The night before, he was running away on his stolen horse. Not just from the law, but also from an angry Redguard female. She was a dweller of Pell's Gate who witnessed him getting on the horse, and she had called for the guards even though he had just managed to kill a rampant scamp moments before. Despite this (unpaid) bit of heroism, she had chased him. She fell behind quickly of course, as she could not match the horse's speed, but the damage was done.

Kahreem at that point was desperate for a place to rest, and managed to enter the Inn of Ill Omen and rent a room. Unfortunately, an Imperial Legion Forester recognized the Redguard wanted for horse theft. Since Kahreem had been wearing his Bravil Guard's armor at this moment, this meant that this particular disguise was now failed. And he had to flee the Inn of Ill Omen, because there was no way he was going to give up any of his precious newfound Glarthir-gold. Nor was he ready to turn himself in to the law.

He had made it back to Pell's Gate, where the angry Redguard lady was now in her cabin, presumably asleep. Here he had rented a second room, and stashed his guard's armor safely in a sack. Perhaps he'll use it again someday.

And now on Evening Star 19, hours after the original chase had ensued, Kahreem rides slowly along the banks of the Niben. Shirtless, but not goldless. Far from goldless. He knows once he makes it into town again, he'll simply be arrested. And this is okay, perhaps. Several of the items on his person (some lockpicks and an apple) are legitimately stolen. Maybe they'll confiscate these stolen goods, ignoring the dusty old book that everyone's so keen to get a copy of.

2:33 PM



"IT'S ALL OVER LAWBREAKER! Your spree is at an end. I'll take any stolen goods you're carrying. The next move...is yours. Hand over your valuables, or I'll haaaaul you away."

Kahreem of Weet considers this.

"Okay. I agree to your terms, guard. I do have some stolen goods you can take, and they include the following: Four stolen lockpicks, and one apple, but NOT the book, okay? Please don't take my fokkinge book. I'm a bit of a collector you see, and that particular book is wanted by the Arch Mage himself. Took me ages to peruse it, sir. Can't wait to actually read it. I had to brave all sorts of daedric menaces, deep in some cave, just to get it. And to find it's actually wanted by the Arch Mage himself, imagine that?"

"Hope you rot, criminal scum."

"Yeah, whatever. See you in two or three days, you biscuit-headed fool. And just wait until I tell the Arch Mage what you're doing down here in Bravil; he'll have you doing Rat Patrol in the Imperial Sewers, this I can guarantee."

4:32 PM
But it is no matter. Arch Mage or not, the Weet Bandit finds himself in jail. Once again.

"WHEN'S THE SLOP TO BE SERVED?! .... Hey, you know they serve actual SLOP in the Skingrad jails? Yeah, that's right, SLOP. I should know, I was a slop drudge in Skingrad!" Kahreem calls to the nearest wall. "Bleeah. Makes the rancid meat and corn you all are dishing up here in Bravil seem like a 40 Septim inn, in comparison."

Nobody answers. Nobody comes.

"You know, I like it here. I like going to jail. Makes a great time to catch up on my reading. If only you all would give me my fokkinge book, I could do so!"

Nobody answers, and nobody comes.

Kahreem lays on his cot, and begins counting cracks in the wall.



Morndas, 8:32 PM, Evening Star 24
The night is cool and foggy as Kahreem leaves Bravil's jail, throwing his jail-clothes right in front of the doorway to the Count's hall, swapping them for a pair of tan britches, chainmail boots, chainmail gauntlets, and no shirt. His stay behind bars this time wound up being longer than he thought it would be, and as the hours and days passed, he began to get nervous. What if the guards realize that book is NOT wanted by the Arch Mage?

...But he had nothing to worry about. The book known as Lost Histories of Tamriel is now safely on his person, and he walks straight to S'krivva's place, already gulping down a bottle of wine.

"I really need your help," admits a middle-aged Breton woman as he passes by.

"Tidings citizen" says a younger, better-dressed woman (also Breton).

By the time he makes it to S'krivva's place, he is dismayed, but not entirely surprised, to find her door is locked. "Fokke!" So he decides to try breaking into the skooma den located nearby. "Maybe I can steal me some skooma." But this is not necessary. On his way there, Kahreem begins feeling edgy. He looks all around, making sure nobody is about. As he does so, he spies a Bosmer man, standing about halfway down an alley between Bravil's inn and general store. Kahreem has heard rumors about this man in the past, and the way he is standing, kind of hidden, makes these rumors seem true.

"Yes?" asks the Bosmer as Kahreem approaches.

"Psst. I hear you're the man to see, if the price is right, and the Septims are tight."

"Let's do business."

The Bosmer opens up a nearby case, which has a single pear inside of it.

"That it? ... a fokkinge pear?"

But there is more to be found. The Bosmer motions for the Redguard to push the pear aside, and look under a secret compartment.

"Ahhh, that's more like it. How much for these?"

....and like that, Kahreem's thousand-gold manpurse dwindles to less than half-a-thousand.

"You drive a haad baagain".

Kahreem disagrees, but this is no matter. He's now looking forward to a night of sordid fun, up in City Swimmer's squatted flat. He makes his way there, quickly gulps down a bottle, which causes the effects of the Cheap Wine he drank earlier to quickly subside.



9:02, Evening Star 25



"I think yoo should leave".

"Ha ha, very good. Nice cover. *AHEM* WELL, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO MAKE ME LEAVE? .. There, how's that? Just in case they are listening, eh?"

"Yoo have found Theranis and the Lost Histories of Tamriel?"

"Um. Well yes kitty, kind of / sort of. I got the book everybody is so keen to have right here, and you can take it. Glad to be rid of it, to be honest, it smells like fetid mold. But Theranis? He did not fare so well."

"Theranis is dead?"

"Um ... uh.... well... um..."

"I grieve for him. But at least yoo have the book. The Gray Fox has sought this book for many years."

"He has? Maybe I should have fokkinge read it instead of getting thrown in jail and sucking skooma all night."

"Here is your reward, yoo have earned it."

"What? I get another reward? Ha ha Just kidding. How much did I earn this time?"

And the Weet Bandit is not disappointed.

"The esteemed cat burglar honors me."

"Cat Burglar, I like that. Just like yourself. Need to get me a suit of fur, a tail and some pointy ears."

But Kahreem's kidding is suddenly limited by the next words spoken by S'krivva.

"Hieronymus Lex must be eliminated once and for all."

"Um... What?"

"The Gray Fox has asked that yoo do this personally. It is a most delicate matter."

Kahreem, for once, cannot actually speak, so the cat before him does. "Countess Umbranox of Anvil is hunting for a new captain of her guard. The Legion Commander of the Imperial Watch sent her a list of candidates. The Gray Fox wants this list replaced with one that highly recommends Hieronymus Lex. From Anvil, he can do little harm to the guild."

"Oh. Of course. For a moment there, I thought that Gray Fox guy wanted me to KILL that scoundrel. Not that this would be a problem," Kahreem lies.

"The letter is currently in steward Dariihill's desk. She has lied to Lady Umbranox, telling her that the letter has yet to arrive."

"Wow, she actually lied? The thought, the corruption! Who would do such a thing as tell a lie?"

"As to your former momentary lapse of judgement, * we are thieves, not murderers. That is the province of the Dark Brotherhood."

"Heh, I was just joking about killing Lex. You think this wimpy blade of tin is any match against his shiny, shiny armor? The shiniest of all armor? Anyways, I like your idea of crafting this list better. Much more ... covert."

"For reasons unknown to this one, the Gray Fox has extended his protection to the Umbranox family, and Lady Umbranox in particular.

"Mm hmm. I see. Maybe this Umbranox lady is in some sort of cahoots with the Gray Fox, this one thinks," answers the Redguard. "Go on."

"While Lex is a problem for the guild, his unwavering loyalty and resolve make him the perfect protector for Lady Umbranox."

"Yeah, and the poor people of the Waterfront would whole-heartedly agree with this. I bet they can't wait to see that bastard out of their sight. So what do we do, kitty cat?"

"Yoo will have to track down one on your own. I don't know of any in Bravil. With the forged letter in hand, sneak into the Legion Commander's office in the Imperial City Prison and seal it with his seal. Dairihill cannot be trusted. Yoo must deliver the letter to Lady Umbranox in person. Will you accept this commission?"

"By Nocturnal's sake YES," Kahreem answers, already thinking of his next clever disguise.

"That is good. Remember, this is a mission of stealth, not blood. Now.... Your payment...."

"My payment, yes, go on..."

"...will be higher than normal to cover the expense of the forger."

"Ahh, well I like the sound of that. More gold. How can I ignore? How can I disagree? .. And now I must bid thee farewell, for your breath stinks like fish, and I hear a bottle of Cheap Wine calling me ... and ummm NO DON'T CALL THE GUARDS, PLEASE DON'T, I SHALL LEAVE ON MY OWN RECOGNIZANCE! ... heh heh, how's that?"

"Shadow hide the hunter."

Long Kahreem's stories are the best!

"He has? Maybe I should have fokkinge read it instead of getting thrown in jail and sucking skooma all night."

Yet another adventure for the Weet Bandit of the Bravil Guard!

Can´t wait to see how he´s gonna do this quest! And wether or not he´ll be stoned while doing it...

Lol I love that comment! Yeah, he might wind up being 'stoned', quite literally, if he keeps up his nonsense.

Today I had no time for Kahreem unfortunately, spent most of the afternoon with my daughter and some others at a soccer game in the cold, early winter air (yeah, it's winter already here, pretty much) so enjoy a Renee Gade III story I wrote up sometime this past summer. It's a shortie. Kahreem will return next Saturday, let us hope.

------------------------------

Fredas, 9:05 am Heartfire 28, 4th Era 20



"What is this place?"

At first, Renee Gade III and her two present companions, Mimi the Nord and Gabrielle of Riften, thought the stone ruins before them might be some sort of defunct Ayelid Well. But the ruined stonework seemed different than one of these Wells somehow. It was carved of similar white stone, had a series of broken columns, and its base was near-circular. There was no glowing essence of energy in its center, but the edifice did have a center.

"It might be some sort of altar."

Renee looked to Mimi, the Nordic companion she had met in a faraway cave, and shrugged. She placed her hand in the middle of the 'altar' (or whatever it was supposed to be) and suddenly feels a tingling sensation ripple throughout.

"I think..."

She never finished her sentence. Before her eyes, just for a flash, she saw some sort of man. A vision of sorts. Then it is gone. The man had been dressed in robes, and had a 'wizened' look, as though he was a mage.

"What is it?"

"Do not know. Some sort of man, or something. I cannot remember. You try it."

But when her companions give the altar a touch, nothing happens.

"I saw something. Magic engulfed you, Renee. There were flashes of brief light."

"Maybe it has something to do with the Nine."

"Yes, this could be." She shrugs.

And with that, the trio departed, having no idea that years ago, Renee Gade's mother had been here, and had also touched this stone, as part of her dealings upon the Pilgrim's Way.

Such a nice little story there, Renee

As much as I enjoy the long Kahreem ones, it was rather nice to read a shortie where nothing major happened. Just a story where something was found without much to it but a connection to events in the past

Yeah, shorties are fun too. I can't wait to get back with Kahreem of course, but with him I gotta set aside at least 3 or more hours for his longer stories.

Mimi the Nord and Gabbie from Riften! I love it! Very cool how you reveal that touching those shrines runs in Renee's family. . . .

Good story, the final sentence is really deep when you combine present and past events.

No Kahreem this week, other than the bit I wrote up in the general section. But I got him set so that his story can continue next week.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
7:55 AM, Middas Frost Fall 10, 4th Era 20

The morning sun rises, and Renee Gade the third rises with it. She eagerly awakes inside of Silverhome on the Water, looking forward to the day ahead.



Buying and selling loot, and lots of it. There are several shops she's looking forward to visiting. Then she'll go to the Mage's Guild, and of course, she will explore town itself. She feels drawn to Bravil. She knows little about it, other than it's got the highest rate of skooma abuse in all Cyrodiil, and its ramshackle atmosphere is looked down upon by many others in Cyrodiil.



But she doesn't care. She likes this town. She likes the fact that it's run-down and disheveled. Crowded and confusing. Although she has already been in Bravil for four days, she hasn't explored it as of yet, so today shall be that day, she decides. She eats a roasted carrot and has some coffee to drink while standing in sunshine, watching the town slowly come alive. Khajiit and Nords, Imperials, and Argonians. A perfect colloquial Cyrodiilc village, where all walks of life are present, except the very richest and snootiest. Mushrooms and lichen grow out of cracks in walkways, and from fences and cedar boards. And yes, the place has a stench to it, but if you looked past this, what you might see is a town proud of its wayward ways. Renee Gade, the Warrior Princess from Riften, cannot imagine looking down.

As the clock tolls 8 o'clock, meaning that the shops are now open (in theory) a certain sadness passes through. She looks around, feels this sadness gathering, and then it is gone. Just like that. She wonders why that feeling had struck, when she is otherwise happy to be here.

Renee, ask ... eh... the other Renee if she can check up on Lothran´s apartment next to The Archer´s Paradox

He also is quite fond of this town

Whoa, somehow I have missed out on two months of updates in this thread! This calls for more tea.


Oh my gosh, I loved this story!! Kahreem had me laughing and cheering for him as he does the “right” thing. The pictures were great!

That was a nice thoughtful morning in Bravil with Renee of Riften.

Aww thanks! Wait'll you see what new disguise he's picked up!


I'll have to ask Renee II (not Renee III) because it was RG2 from my 3rd Era/PS3 days who initially lived (and loved) Bravil most of all.

Fredas, 3:12 pm, Sun's Height 5, 4th Era Year 5



"Greetings Imperial."

"What's going on with you?"

"Might I offer to you some teachings on how to perform much more fortuitously with your bow? To enhance your exactitude in the arts of archery?"

"Sure, whatever you say!"

The Imperial grins. He had just been hired by the Bosmer known as Lady Saga, who had met him right at the base of the Valus, far below. The Imperial looks forward to his first lesson from one of the most famous masters of marksmanship. As an Imperial Legion Forester, often relying on a bow of his own, the Imperial can already sense he'll become even better at his art, after hearing whatever the elf has to say.

He'd joined up with the Imperial Legion Foresters at the beginning of Rain's Hand, nearly three months ago. One of the reasons the job appealed to him was it offered something most other jobs could not: total freedom. After signing up, and going through some primary training, he could then roam anywhere throughout Cyrodiil. Anywhere he desired. He could go to the Jeralls tomorrow, if the thought tickled him. Or head south to Black Marsh.

Working behind a shopkeeper's desk or an inn? Such tediousness would never be for him.

He could go to the Gold Coast a week from now. Or West Weald, and enjoy some flawless weather. But the Imperial liked it here, right in the Nibenay Basin, skirting along the base of the Valus Mountains. It was the place he had become most familiar with since childhood.

And on this day, he became one of the lucky few to meet the elf many other Imperial Legion Foresters had been raving about, as she traveled the lands, scouring evil and gaining immense wealth, all while living off the land. It was the 'living off the land' part that the other Legion Foresters often spoke most highly of. She was sort of like one of them, in this way. Sort of.

"Be of attendance," Saga says, grabbing her black bandit's bow. "'Tis not just the aiming of the bow which is of such importance, 'tis also the propensity for re-aiming. Never shall you aim just once, and then fall towards relaxment. Always make noting of the NEXT shot to come, as well. ... Do you see?" she says, firing a cheap steel arrow straight off the mountainside. "With these actions, success shall be attained, and re-attained, within quick ordering."

"Uhhh huhh," grunts the Legion.

"When you sneak upon an enemy, let us say ... a goblin, and this goblin has not awareness of our presence, we can make choosing of our shot. ... His head? ... His arm? .... His torso? We have much control over our concernings. You aim ... you shoot..." she fires another arrow, one of many, off the mountain. "... and the goblin is hit. But death has not come upon him?

"Tis often that such an occurance shall become, are you of understanding?"

"Yes!" the Imperial answers. "Just like the fletcher in Bravil says: 'a perfect arrow flies forever!'"

"No. You are of not much understanding, I am afraid. For the fletcher in Bravil makes notice of the fact he has no perfect arrow."

"Good one!"

Aerin continues her lecture as the sun blazes from above. Deep into Mid-year, the air would be hot and sticky in the valley below, but up here on the mountainside it felt perfect. "'Tis often that the goblin makes survival of that shot. You see? .. Which is the reasoning behind the NEXT shot you are to take. Always have that next arrow nocked, and the enemy well within your sights. If he rises, now you have him again."

"Such adventures! I envy you!"

"Why? .. I was once not of such proficiency at this. As a young nymphial here in Cyrodiil, seven years ago, or perhaps eight, my knowledge of marksmanship was not nearly as it is now. I had not knowledge of the power of the bow, and the control one can attain, if one's mind is of focusing.

"You would be of much surprise how often my arrows pluck, and many enemies fall, and all I have done is stood completely still, aiming arrow after arrow with success-ment. As your knowlege grows, you too shall see the way it 'tis possible to attain complete control, of, let us say, one entire chamber within an Ayleid lair."

The Imperial nods, understanding what she is saying to him, but not really believing that he can become as talented as she. But it all helps. And his confidence grows.

Sutch a neat little story there about Saga the Bow Teacher


Some proper advice on dealing with multiple enemies too

Why thank you mirocu. *curtseys* That story, like a lot of Saga stories, began sort of spontaneously. I was just gaming one day and got the idea for Saga to give some archer lessons.

And now, another story!

Fredas, 1:37 PM, Evening Star 28, 3rd Era 433

The man enters Skingrad, glad to have some place to finally rest. He had seen enough imps and goblins in the last day to last him a lifetime, and taken down a few. He had even become brave enough to enter the goblin's lair, searching them out for their lockpicks. But he wasn't so good at this. Fighting goblins in the dark? ... Not what he was known for.

"Oh. Hello," a Skingrad guard greets the man glumly.

"Mmmph mmm hmmm shmmphmm," answers the man.

The man walks further, the air around him slightly chilly, and with a light fog. He would need to get used to this. All this heavy armor. Never had he imagined he'd wear a suit like this one. He could bear its weight, no problem, but he was used to lighter gear.

"Come to bother me with a war story, Redguard?"

"Mmm hmmmph hmm hmmm mhhmm hmm".

The man, the Redgurad, continues on. Passes by the West Weald Inn, passes by the Fighter's Guild, and Mage's Guild. Makes a right and enters Colovian Traders, in which the Nord who runs the place stolidly greets the Redguard.

"Welcome to Colovian Traders, Cyrodiil's finest selection of general goods. I'm Gunder. Just let me know what you want."

"Mmm maay."

The Redguard has some trouble speaking, but manages to sell several items he knows he won't need: a silver sword he had recently found near a dead guard's body, a bottle of magicka restoring, and a bottle of some other elixir. In total, he makes just over a hundred gold. But unfortunately Gunder hasn't got any lockpicks. Lockpicks--always in demand.

"Be seeing you!"

The Redguard leaves Colovian Traders, and turns right. He is unsure, but he swears there is some sort of armory located around the corner. He hopes to get his armor and weapon repaired there, if this is so.

"A coin for an old beggah?"

The Redguard passes by the beggah, but then changes his mind. Turns around, and decides he'll give the beggah a coin. The beggah, after all, might have something useful to say.

"I'm savin up for enough to feed me kids."

"Mmm hmhmm hmmm hmmm," says the Redguard, pointing at the armor suit he's wearing, the same armor suit he had found and looted just outside the cave where he fought all those goblins. Specifically, the Redguard points to several bashed areas on his chestplate, trying to indicate the he wants to get these areas fixed.

"Hammer and Tongs is a good place to get your armor repaired," answers Nigidius the Needy. "Just don't go there early in the morning. Agnette isn't feeling so good then."

The Redguard is satisfied with this answer, and he nods to show it. Very good! He was right with his assumption: there is somewhere nearby to get his things repaired.

A minute or so later he enters Agnette's shop. The smell of something hot and burning greets his pinched nose. It's dark in her shop. Because it is dark, the Redguard crashes into something, a set of tongs or something, he cannot see where he is going, exactly.

"Not so loud please, what a headache I've got!"

"Mmm hmmm Mmmm hmmm!"

"I'M WAITING!"

"MM HMMM MMM HMMMM!!"

Agnette looks at the man who's just entered her shop (crashing into a brazierre she had been working the previous day, she notes with pessimism), and stares.

"Mmm Hmmm Mmmm Hmmm!"

"Well what can I interest you in?" she asks, but then she seems to finally understand. The man before her (a Redguard?) is wearing an Imperial Road Patrol's armor suit. All heavy armor. And he's having trouble speaking because of his helmet, which is dented right into his dark cheek. Agnette realizes the man wants his suit repaired, starting with the heavy iron helmet on his head.

"Not smart to carry around broken equipment."

"Mmm hmmm mmm....." the Redguard says, before Agnette manages to pull off his helmet. "Hmmm Hmm.... Ohh thank the Nine! I can speak, I can breathe! .. It's hard to speak in there, as you can see! ... Dented helmet and all. I want it all fixed up, and I've got the coin. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Kellsgard the Dragon-slayer. Come down from Bruma in search of gold. And dragons, of course. Haven't seen any dragons yet, but then I've heard plenty about the daedra who have invaded Kvatch, as well. Need to get my armor fixed and ready."

Agnette the smith, who had had a round too many (actually, make that three or four rounds too many) the night before at Two Sisters Lodge, begins to get to work, as she helps the Redguard disassemble his armor. She does not speak, and wishes the Redguard would STOP doing so. But gold is gold. To fix every piece of the Redguard's armor, she knows she'll make enough gold to last an entire week, assuming she ever wanted to shut her shop down.

"Why is a Redguard wearing an Imperial's armor, you might ask? Well, you did not actually ask, madam, but I shall answer." As he speaks, she begins using her forge, banging away at this and that, and because of all this noise the Redguard must speak louder. "It's all about taking down some daedra. Ummm ... daedra and dragons. And also goblins. Yes I did take care of a few goblins, just so you know, just north Skingrad on the Gold Road. Some cave. I came upon a guard, a road patrol sort of guard, fighting a group of goblins, nasty beasts...."

"Ugly little animals. I hate the things."

"Me too. Anyway, I got off my horse, grabbed my daedric-fighting sword, and off I went to save the guard from the goblins. Took them down, I did. But my fellow guard did not survive the attack. He fell to them. Sadly, I will say. And his very last words as he looked longingly into my eyes were 'take my armor and weapon, Redguard, for you have proven yourself worthy.' And so I did. I took his things, no law against that, is there?.. Then I went inside that goblin-hole and festered them out, one by one, taking them all down. Leaving no trace of the heathens."

Agmette the Pickled bends over her forge, ready to hammer out some kinks in the Redguard's plate-mail. She realizes she'll give anything, anything at all, to make this Redguard SHUT HIS MOUTH.

"'Tis once said by a famous historian, located off the shores of Wayrest. Back when I was ...oh, sorry. I forgot. Went on a bit of a tangent, I just did. You might be wondering what happened to my daedric sword?"

Agnette the smith glares at the Redguard.

"Very well. I shall tell you. What happened was a giant goblin, taller than this room, greeted me inside his collosal chamber. Bigger than a horse! I'd never seen anything like him. And as I approached, I realized that I was finally no match for his enormous weapon. Never seen a weapon so big in my life. And he summoned some sort of creature, bigger than himself. Well I got out of there, I did. I ran! Not afraid to admit it. And my sword? What happened to my dragon-slaying sword? you might ask? Not that you did ask, I was just making a presupposition, because you see---"

"All done!" Agnette says, glad to be so. She's never so glad to be finished a job in her life. She can already taste the first sip of wine she'll be having, once this annoyingly chatty Redguard gets OUT OF HER SHOP.

"Ahh, very good then. Hammered to perfection. And off I go to Kvatch, where I aim to fight the daedra who have invaded the whole town. Well, good to see you .. um....uhh.... Agnes? ... Urrmmmm Angnette?"

"STOP ... TALKING!"

Mmmph mmm hmmm shmmphmm

Kellsgard the Dragon-slayer appears in times when there weren't any dragons around yet!

Good one!

He can walk he walk, and he can certainly talk the talk!

One of the coolest things about that story is when the beggar said those words about Hammer and Tongs, he actually said them, as if on cue. So Kahreem was looking for some place to get his gear fixed, and the beggar told him where to go, it was perfect.

Also this makes me laugh



It's such BS! Who the [censored] would say something so cheezy?

Lady Saga hired the cutest forester in the Legion.

“…take my armor and weapons…” Suuuure he said that!

Yes, that forester is rather handsome. MM hmm. And now for my next story. This one shall be called the Relief of Gabrielle.

9:51 am, Fredas, Frost Fall 12, 4th Era 20

Renee Gade III
Level: 6
Factions: Arena (Brawler), Sewer Patrol (no title)

Days Passed 47
Active Quests: 7
Quests Cmpd:: 23

Skill Increases: 194
Training Sesions:: 1
Novice Skills: 11
\Apprentice Skills: 10

Fame: 7
Infamy: 0

Days Jailed: 0
]Items Stolen: 22
Trespasses: 7
Assaults: 7
Places Found: 52

Hours Slept 564
Hours Waited: 113




"Gabrielle"

"It's my pleasure, please continue."

The moment had come, Renee decided.
"Listen. I know we have been friends a long time. I know you and I have been through a lot. But the time has come. I cannot accept your presence here in Cyrodiil any longer."

"What? Excuse me?"

Renee's friend from Skyrim had at one time been an extremely proficient fighter. She had learned the arts of wielding two swords, specially-made just for her, from a young age. Woe to those who stepped in Gabri's path! But over the last few weeks she had become lazy. Riding along the bootstraps of the party, not raising her twin swords unless she absolutely had to. Attempting to talk and reason with her opponents. She had even stepped in front of Renee's giant sword on occasion, just as her only real friend here in Cyrodiil was making a grand swing toward some enemy. It was as if Gabrielle had become some sort of old maid, or something.

"I aim to grow, and to become rich, here in Cyrodiil," continues Renee in a very deliberate manner. "Like my mother before me. I aim to continue the life I have been leading up til now. Ridding the world of banditry. And outlaws." She begins to walk slowly as she speaks. "Your skills, your real skills with your weapons, have not been in use for weeks now. We have noticed."

Gabrielle shrugs, but says nothing.

"Here is what I am thinking. I think it is time you stayed behind, in a place of your choosing, while I continue on my own path. We can go there together, if you like. I will take you there."

Gabrielle fidgets and frowns.

"Do not worry. I will come and visit, I promise. As much as I can. Maybe you can settle down, raise a family. Take life in your own sort of way, free of adventure, free of direct engagement with outlaws."

The Blonde Imperial frowns. "Raise a family? Haa! Are you kidding? Out of your mind? .. Life should be an adventure! One curiosity after another. A way to bring this 'evil', as you call it, together with the good citizens of Tamriel. To join together, to show them our ways, our passions, our livelihood!"

Now it's Renee's turn to fidget. Her friend just does not get it. She hasn't a clue. "Look, you can't face the evils I face, and use just your wits to try to combat them. They will not listen to wits. They only want your life. Your gold. And the lives and gold of innocents. I will not back down from my role in life. I aim to combat and protect. And you should find your own way."

"I could use some down time, I guess," Gabrielle shrugs. Arguing with Renee when her mind was really set was always hopeless.

"Good. As I said, you will still be under my watch. Nothing to worry about there. And for now, you will be staying here, at the King and Queen Tavern. I have already paid for your room. Later on today, after my rest, I may have you follow me to Vinicia's, where I will hopefully be able to afford that shack she was speaking of. Although this depends. I may not yet have the coin."

With that said, Renee finishes her ale, and climbs upstairs, glad to have that talk over with. She had expected things to go a lot worse. But overall, the dismissal of Gabrielle hadn't been so bad.

Renee Gade III of Riften takes her nap, and then heads to the outside world.



2:58 PM

"Well met".

"Good day Vinicia."

"What do you want?" asks the Imperial City's long-established Commerce Officer.

"I have come to collect payment on these," says Renee, handing over a sackful of bones, goblin eyes, and other such pieces of proof that she had indeed been doing her job, deep inside the Imperial sewers.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

And for this, Renee is paid a mere 180 gold. But at least she is paid. ... What Renee doesn't tell Vinincia is that she hadn't collected her proof of kills beneath the Imperial City itself, she had (instead) been traveling all over Cyrodiil, killing a goblin here, and a vicious mudcrab there. But how was Vinicia to know and prove this?

"Now, about that house. Or shack."

"Why? .. I mean of course. All I have available right now is a hovel on the Waterfront."

"Yes, a hovel, that is what you call it. That is fine. I do not care. I will take it if the price is right."

The price is not really 'right', it is a highly-inflated 2,000 gold. This seems very steep, considering the fact that to live in this shack is to live right in the middle of pure squalor. On top of this, Renee has no idea which shack, or 'hovel', she is actually buying; she has been to the Waterfront only once.

But the shack on the waterfront had been her friend's choice. Maybe Gabrielle could begin her pursuit for the accompanyment of citizens and non-citizens here.

Sometimes goodbyes are necessary but I'm glad that they remained friends. However, since Renee sees Gabrielle as an old maid, she could use her skills in the shack that she just bought.


Good to know!

8:55 pm, Evening Star 30, 3rd Era 433

"If you're looking to buy a horse, go inside and talk to Clesa."

It is a cool winter's night, the night before the night before the very last of the Year 433, as one Redguard greets another. Rain falls hard along the Gold Coast, and both Redguards are getting soaked. The Redguard doing the greeting is just doing his job, directing prospective horse-buyers toward the proper lady to speak to. The Redguard being greeted gets a puzzled frown upon his face. Can't this guy see he had just ridden up on a horse of his own?

"I have no need for a steed, my Hammerfell brother, for I have long-ago acquired one of the finest bays a Legion Soldier could ask for, as you can see." When the first Redguard does not reply, the second one adds. "You know, we're always looking for recruits. Head over to the Imperial City if you think you've got what it takes, we could use a man like you."

The first Redguard is named Ernest, a strong-working stablehand. He stands in the rain as though it doesn't bother him much at alll. The second Redguard's name is .... um.... ahmmm.....

"My name is Kellsgard. 'Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer' they call me. I have just arrived in this fair town of Anvil looking for a band of thugs who've been rumored to be doing some rabblery."

"I used to be a knacker," answers Ernest, unsure of what else to say. "That's how I fancy my horses. Ripe, stiff, and silent. Hate it when they stare at me. Dumb beasts." Did this guy just advise me to join the Legion?... Really???

"Well here. Have some coin." *clink*

"We understand each other perfectly."

"Watch over my horse, will ya? ... And think about what I said. I mean, just look at the muscles on you. You'd do well in the Imperial Legion."

Ernest shrugs, as Kellsgard the Dragon Slayer walks into the town of Anvil.




9:40 pm

"Spare a coin for the infirm?"

"Another day, another Septim."

"One more coin and I can get a pair of shoes."

"Well then, have a coin, beggar."

"Thank you kind sir." *clink!*

"How fare thee, beggar? I am Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer, new here in Anvil, and under direct employ of the Imperial City. I have come here looking for the office of Dairihill. Need to ... um .... deliver this writ of execution for a pesky Redguard thief who has been stealing precious goods all over Cyrodiil."

"To be honest, I couldn't give you any directions to any special room in the castle," the beggar answers in an Imperial accent. Yet another downtrodden Imperial. "Anyone in the castle can tell you though."

"Ahh yes of course. The castle. Of course that is where her office would be."

"I can tell you this for free, though: There are many secrets in that castle. There are secret ways, and secret people. Find the blacksmith."

"Yes, the blacksmith. Need to get my legion weapons and armor repaired, so I shall go to the blacksmith," Kellsgard affirms more loudly than he needs to. He does so just in case anybody is listening to the conversation between himself, and some lowly beggar.

"Blessings of Anu upon ye."


12:39 pm, Evening Star 31

"Do I know you?"

It is the next morning, and Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer, aka Kahreem of Weet, has arrived at Anvil's castle.

"I am looking for the blacksmith. Might you be him? You sure look like a blacksmith."

"I am The Stranger. That is all you need to know. That, and I am no-one to be trifled with."

"As an Imperial Legion Officer, I might take offense to the sound of contempt in your voice. But you are free to go, for you are not the blacksmith whom I seek."

Castle-music swirls around Kahreem, similar to the music he has heard so many other times, in other castles of Cyrodiil. Again, he is fully-decorated in Imperial Legion armor. It had taken him damn-near an hour to get this armor removed, piece by piece, the previous evening in the Count's Arms. And another hour to put it all back on his body, but this was nothing a bottle of Cheap Wine couldn't ease. Locating the blacksmith is going to take some time, he can see, and he is already wondering if it was a good idea to wear all this armor. Kahreem has no idea where he is to go, but (despite his armor) he is careful not to speak to any guards, asking for directions. To do so might allow them to recognize who he really is, and that he has a bounty.

He turns right down a corridor, and finds a door which says it leads to a 'smithy'. Very good. He walks through this door, and greets a Redguard with a bald head.



"Hello Redguard."

"You must be the cat burglar I've been told to expect. Follow me."

Kahreem nearly palms his face. Cat burglar? "No, I'm here to .... deliver this writ of execution because--ahh, never mind."

He follows the Redguard away from the forge, down a hall, and to the right. This is one opulent castle, Kahreem thinks. And very well decorated. They arrive to a small room, where the Redguard smith reaches up toward his left, and moves a decorative pillar. This opens up the wall before them into a hidden passageway.

"I see you work with the Grey Fox," says the smith.

That smith has a keen eye as to who follows the Grey Fox. He´s lucky he wasn´t wrong and just showed a real guard* the secret passageway!






*sorry, Kahreem...

Good story, my favorite part is where he talks aloud to that beggar about going to the castle. I actually pictured him doing this. So first he's a goblin slayer and then a dragon slayer.

Loredas, 6:45 am, Frost Fall 13, 4th Era 20

Renee Gade III's Imperial Shack

Level: 6
Days Passed: 48
Fame: 7
Infamy: 0


It is early in the morning when Renee Gade the third awakes in her new home, Gabrielle at her side. This 'home' is just a shack on the Imperial City's waterfront. It is small, but it is clean. It better be, for the 2,000 gold Renee spent on it. As Renee rises and dresses for the day, Gabrielle stands and stares, excited yet morose at the same time. She knows Renee's plans for this Loredas morning, and she's looking forward to them. But she is also somewhat bothered by them.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You know? Go in front of all those people again? What if you aren't so lucky this time?"

Renee ignores her friend, and gazes around her little shack, which looks as if it were built long ago during the 3rd Era. Now that she's having a look at it in daylight, she decides her new home is going to need lots of fixing. Rumor had it that the great Dyan phor a'Cauz had once owned this lowly shack; if so, she must not have spent much time here. Its walls and floor are bare. She thinks she'll need some items (cupboards and dressers) in which to store her things. All of this is going to cost a lot of gold, of course, even for such a small place. This sort of furniture will also crowd her little shack, but she doesn't care. She's just happy to have somewhere to call home.


The Waterfront itself is an .. interesting place. Although she doesn't know it, her mother once lived here as well, a couple of decades earlier. Back in those days, the Waterfront was merely inhabited by beggars and thieves, and it was well-known (but never officially proven) that the Thieves Guild itself had a major contact here. But times had changed.

The Waterfront had been (perhaps) populated by low-lifes back then, but its population had been low. Nowadays, it wasn't just 'low-lifes' who lived here, now there was another sort.



Goblins. Renee had been shocked to find several of them living amongst the Redgaurds, Nords, elves and Bretons of the Waterfront .. Her first instinct had been to attack the first goblin she saw of course, but the green-colored being had merely stood before her. Did not raise his weapon. So Renee did not raise hers.

"Are you ready Gabrielle? C'mon. As I said, you cannot follow me all the way there, but you can come along.

Gabrielle looks to the floor, as if she wants to say something, but (for once ) can't just do so.

"Look, we talked about this. I do not want you standing around trying to use your wits against them, while I try and use my blade. You are useless as a warrior, Gabrielle. Banter and bardism will not work. But you can watch and cheer for me, at least. So come on."

The Waterfront also has several people who are blatant pirates, just as it did years ago. Dozens of vessels (small and large) crowd its inlet. A beggar swims in the water as the two ladies walk by. A guard lazily patrols. A goblin openly roasts a rat. Put it all together, it's quite a seedy place to live. But she should be okay, Gabrielle will be just fine. Nobody's going to mess with her down here, and if they do, it'll be the death of them.

After a bit of lazy, sun-soaked walking, Renee and Gabrielle make their way towards the Imperial City's Arena distrcit.


2:57 PM
It takes them several hours to finaly make it inside the Imperial City itself, their morning and early afternoon is filled with exploring. Renee stops by the King and Queen tavern on her way to the Arena, and has Smokey, her newest companion and a mage, follow her as well.

5:48 PM
The trio spends a couple more hours eating, and Renee realizes she has several items she needs to sell. By the time all of this is done, it is raining heavily outside. "No way I am firgting in rain again!" she says, before heading back to the King and Queen for a night of rest. "I am not going to allow my glory to be downplayed by forces of nature this time."

Sundas, Frostfall 14, 10:34 AM
After a good, hearty meal at The Feed Bag to start the next day, Renee, Gabrielle, and Smokey the Mage finally head over to the Arena. The sky is clear, the morning sunny, which is pleasing to all. Renee hopes it stays sunny.

She speaks to the Bosmer bettor so she can place some gold on a match, then has her two companions follow her up to the Arena's spectator deck. 100 gold down on the Blue Team gladiator, who is a female. She looks either Nord or Imperial, and wields a sword and shield. The Yellow Team fighter is a also female, but with a battleaxe. She doesn't know how to use it well though. After just three blows from the Blue Team lady's blade, she's fallen to her feet. The Blue Team fighter then pounds her with blows while the crowd goes mad! ... in thirty seconds it's all over. The Blue Team fighter with the sword and shield has won the match.

"You won!" says the Bosmer at the Arena's gate.

"Mmm Hmm, I know this elf. I bet on the Blue Team, as always."

"Congratulations! Here are your winnings, my friend -- 200 gold pieces. Come back and bet on the matches as often as you like!" *clink*

"You can bet that I will."

The Bosmer's enthusiasm is infectious, and Renee cannot help but feel today is going to be a lucky day for her. She accepts the 200 gold, then heads down to the Arena's Bloodworks area, where she meets one of her favorite people in the entire land of Cyrodiil.



"I'm a busy man, what is it?"

"Remember me, Redguard? I am the one you claimed could not fight as well as your dead grandmother. ... But then I kicked some Yellow Team posterior, causing you to eat your words? Any bells ringing here?"

"You know what Brawler rank is worth around here?"

"I have no idea, but I get the feeling you are about to tell me, and with a healthy dose of sarcastic banter as well."

"Nothing! Face it kid, you're still a maggot! You need to keep fighting if you want to be somebody!"

Renee shrugs. "Not to rule out the obvious, but that is why I returned here. To prove my worth before all of Cyrodiil. What did you think, I just showed up to hear some of your fabulous wit? ... Ha. .... Soon it will be I, Renee of Riften, who calls you maggot, as you stand here in complete unrecognition from the masses in this dark, smelly place, like some scrubby outlaw bandit. Only difference is, outlaw bandits at least have some wine and skooma and women to comfort them. All you have is me."

"Ready? You call that ready? You don't--"

"Okay okay fine. Yea, I am not wearing my raiment. We all make blunders, Redguard."

Renee wears a mixture of light and heavy armor at this moment, armor which she had stashed at the King and Queen. She has no idea where the raiment she wore during her first three matches actually is. Good thing there's a cabinet nearby with several outfits to choose from. "Give me a moment, Owyn."

Owyn Junior eyes her suspiciously, like she's going to go on a rampage to try and kill him, or something. But she does nothing such. Instead she walks into the far end of the Bloodworks, and changes into the proper set of armor.

"Now, I am ready," claims she.

3:37 pm, Evening Star 31, 3rd Era 433

Days Passed: 127
Days Jailed: 29

"I see you work for the Grey Fox".

.....says Orrin, the bald-headed Redguard smith of Anvil's castle. Orrin the Smith says this to the man (another Redguard) whose name had become notorious within the ranks of the underground world...assuming you knew which name to go by.

"Listen, smith. What is it with you people and your lack of covertness? Yes, I work for the fokkinge Grey Fox," he whispers. "Could you be a little more discreet about this information, please? .. It's not much to ask."

"Shadow hide you."

The Redguard calling himself Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer places his heavy armor gauntlet over his face.


3:51 pm
Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer cannot believe he is doing this: actually sneaking deep into Castle Anvil's bowels, while wearing a heavy armor suit. Why had he made such a choice? ... He can always go back to town, maybe buy or steal some clothes to wear, that won't be so heavy .... and obvious.

"But it's cold outside. Colder than usual. This armor is well-insulated, at least, against cold. And maybe the officials won't blink an eye if they see an Imperial Legion within their sanctuary," he reasons.

He walks straight down a darkened hall, and walks up a short flight of stairs. Turns left. Climbs more stairs. Even in this darkened hallway, where (he assumes) nobody ever goes, the castle's music still drones. 'Kellsgard' climbs up some more stairs, but then stops. Turns around and walks back to the hallway where Orrin the smith had been. Once he is there, Kellsgard looks cautiously at the rack of Cheap Wine he had noticed before.

"One of those would sure go down swell right now. Or make that two."

But then Orrin returns.

"Hey, Redguard! Just making sure to close this door behind me. You know how bad it would be if somebody came along... saw this hanging open."



He closes the door, cursing the smith. But there's always later. He can always return to this spot later, the spot where he had found an entire rack of the cheap stuff, unguarded and unswallowed. He decides it's best to walk fully upright, rather than sneaking. His heavy armor boots go clank -- clank - clank... but this is okay. He is an official of the Imperial Legion, after all. And Imperial Legionnaires don't go sneaking around.

The first door he comes to is locked by a two-tumbler. Easy stuff. He's got a total of 19 lockpicks, so this first door gets opened as quickly as a bottle of beer goes down. He finds himself in another hallway, also dark, and is greeted by a giant cobweb. He stands still and silent for a few moments, attempting to listen for any sound. Unfortunately, all he can hear is music.

He takes a few cautious steps into the darkness, then gains confidence, and strides fully. If he is caught, he can just explain that he has gotten lost, here in Anvil's castle. How he got in here? Who the fokke knows. If he is caught and attacked... well... that's a different story. He pities the poor sod who'll try to take down a man wearing Imperial Legion armor though, and wielding a pirate's cutlass.

Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer / Kahreem of Weet comes to the end of hidden corridor #2, which seems to go nowhere. But then he sees a couple of floor-pillars, just like the ones he had found down where Orrin had left him. He grabs the column on his left, and is satisfied when the wall before him cleverly opens. Before him is a nicely-lit hallway, with a brilliant red carpet down its middle.

"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE."

"Ah, but I am an Imperial Legion, madam, come to deliver a writ of execution for that dreaded Redgaurd who's been seen rampaging all over Cyrodiil."

"I'm Dairihill, ," she explains, more calmly now. "...steward pf Castle Anvil. We do things differently in Anvil. And the difference shows in the comfort and trust of its people."

"Ah yes, the Gold Coast style. I have heard of such. A mocking of Hammerfell, if you will."

"The Countess deserves all the credit. I do things my way, indeed, but she gives me the authority and support."

"Does she now? Well, this conversation is just getting better and better! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kellsgard the Goblin Slayer, come down from Bruma to assist in a number of matters for the Countess herself, as well as the Imperial offices of the Imperial City. *ahem* Hey, do you know you have a secret passageway in your wall, there?"

"Make it quick."

"By all means. I am here to have .... somebody .. uhh ... sign this writ of execution," Kahreem says. "And there is no way I am going to leave this place and not have it signed. I wanted to find the Countess herself, but you will do," Kahreem says, realizing the enormous hole in this lie. "And there is also a matter of Hieronymus Lex. I have heard this man, who wears the shiniest armor in all of Cyrodiil, is up for re-assignment."

"Yes! My cousin is eminently in the position of taking charge someplace else."

"Well, perhaps I can assist in this matter too. For I have some sway within the Legion."

"Say what you're going to say," Dairihill warns, suddenly getting impatient.

As Kahreem says what he's going to say, he realizes he is going to need to make a second trip into Castle Anvil, so he can .... and there is NO WAY he's going to show up clanking in some Legion's armor while he does this. But before he leaves, he makes sure to butter Dairihil the elf up with sweet-talk.

"Kind of lonely here up in the castle, don't you think?"

"Sorry. I don't get it."

"As an official of the Imperial legion, I have many resources at my disposal," he says, giving her a quick flash at the gold in his man purse. "One does not earn this gold just by delivering writs, and kissing some Countess ass. They don't call me the 'Goblin Slayer' for nothing."

"Don't, please! I'm sorry!"

"'Tis no worry, milady. For I am free with my gold, for those who would like a night on the town. A beautiful lady such as yourself, for instance."

"I wish I could say that."

Kahreem nearly palms his face with his right gauntlet, but doesn't do so. It would go CLANK if he did this, after all. "I am offering, my lady, to take ye upon the town. See the sights. And treat you royally to a grand dinner at the Count's Arms."

"Not now. Not later. Not EVER."

"Well so be it. I shall take my leave then," he says, starting to sweat. Time to run, perhaps. "Make sure you will consider the signing of this writ, if I am not to locate the Countess herself."

"Be seeing you."

At this, Kahreem of Weet turns to go. "Really should consider getting this secret passage sealed off for good, a man could get lost." Then he pulls the pillar which causes the wall before him to close, while Dairihill the elf's impatience turns to concern.

I remember Owyn. Still wanna kick his disrespectful butt some day...



But not Kahreem´s! Eh, Kellsgard´s! Clanking around Castle Anvil´s hidden passageways like that in Imperial Legion armour may seem a bit strange, but it´s not kickbutt-worthy...

Kahreem of Goblins, clanking around castle Anvil with his Legion armor and gold-filled man purse. Oh, and an eye for the elven ladies. Actually with all that noise bling happening, he was probably wise in using the 'walk around like I belong here' approach.

That's really one funny scene - the secret passage opens and a Redguard "Legionnaire" is standing before Dairihil who knows that he's not supposed to be in there, they talk for a while, and then the Redguard closes the wall and leaves, like nothing happened at all.

And Happy New Year to Kahreem, I see that in his world the 434-th year will begin soon.

Thanks you all, and yes, it will be a Happy New Year in Cyrodiil for him. I'll have to ask Kahreem to consider his actions on this day.

Taking Care of Lex Part IV

11:06 PM Evening Star 31, 3E, Year 433

Days Passed: 127


The Redguard clanks down some hidden stairs, then takes pause to think a moment. What is he supposed to do now that Dairihill did not seem so forthcoming to help him?

... Now that Khajiit in Bravil said I am to forge some sort of letter. Was that it? .. Something like that. I wrote it down, but my book is back at the Count's Arms. Fokke! ....He has just exited Castle Anvil's private area, and entered its Smithy. At first, he does not see the other Redguard before him, for the other one stands across the room in darkness.

"Orrin, my Hammerfell brother. I could not find the lady of whom I was supposed to speak to .... about .... ahmm .... getting this writ signed for the Count of Bravil.".... He says this hoping Orrin won't notice there's two bottles of Cheap Wine missing from one of the wine racks in the next room.

"Looking for the steward, are you? Her office is in the private chambers, but she's not there much. You can find her in the audience chamber in the mornings. She dines with the Countess from evening's eighth bell until midnight."

"Ah of course. The audience chamber. Glad you have told me where I can meet the steward known as Dairihill, so I can get this writ signed. Skooma dealer. The Count of Bravil wants the head of the most prolific skooma dealer in all Cyrodiil. And this skooma dealer is also the Redguard who's been blazing through the Thieves Guild, under direct command of the Grey Fox himself. So, I shall go to meet this steward tomorrow, and get this damned writ signed."

"Shadow hide you."

*CLANK*


12:03 AM
It is not long into the Year 434, three minutes into this final year of the Third Era, when Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer stands outside Castle Anvil, gazing to the east, staring at one of Cyrodiil's long-abandoned Imperial forts. Well, 'long-abandoned' by Imperial legions, anyways. Over the last few years, chances are a place like this would now be inhabited by bandits, or some sort of outlaws. Heathens who deserved arrest, or worse.

Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer downs his first bottle of Cheap Wine while standing on the bridge between Anvil's village and castle, drinking to the new year. He gazes at the Imperial fort up on the hillside.





9:45 AM

"Good morning," says the Dunmer, glad to have lived another year in Cyrodiil.

"What's new with you?" answers his friend, a fellow Dunmer, but a lady, not a man. These two had been living up here at the fort known as Strand now for two weeks, and life had never been better.


"Rumor has it that the Nerevarine has been on an expedition to Akavir, and has not been heard from since."

"It can't be!" answers the lady, truly shocked. As former inhabitants of Morrowind, she and he both know that the Nerevarine was a foreign, bearded man who wore robes, who often fought with his bare hands. Why would he have risked his life by going to Akavir? "This is most troubling news!"

"If you say so."

But such news wasn't really so troubling. Life, after all, had been good here at Fort Strand. The land of Morrowind was now long behind them, and it had been easy to re-locate here in Cyrodiil. All they had needed was a sturdy boat, a good stash of stolen supplies, and within days they had found their new home. The best part? A local gang of phony prostitutes had recently been taken down by an adventurous, red-headed Nord, a do-gooding, righteous [censored] of a woman. Oddly enough, this had only helped the situation of the bandits living up at Fort Strand. After all, those 'prostitutes' had been competition, stealing (possibly killing) males who could instead become targets of theft, assault, or worse for the bandits of Strand.


"Without question."

"Heard any news from the other provinces?"

The red-headed Nord who had taken responsibility for ridding Anvil of its phony prostitute ring had also rid Fort Strand of its inhabitants as well, though the place had quickly re-populated. Hard not to, at such an ideal location, literally overlooking the goldmine which is Anvil.

....clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank....

"Nothing I'd" ... "Must have" ... "like to" ... "been the" "talk about." "wind."

"So long."

....clank clank clank clank clank clank CLANK ....

"Well now, LOOK WHO WE HAVE HERE!"

"To arms! TO ARMS!"

"I am Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer, and you are all UNDER ARREST. Uh... unless you pay the fine, of course. So what's it gonna be? .. Will you pay the fine? Go to jail? Or resist arrest?!?"



"Jump on my sword while you can!" screams the Bosmer man, readying his bow. The female also readies a bow, but she decides to duck behind one of Fort Strand's stone partitions while she does so. The man, on the other hand, blocks Strand's entrance, unafraid of this sudden Imperial Legion.

"STOP! You violated the law! Pay the court a fine or SERVE your sentence. Your stolen goods are now FORFEIT!"

"I'm just WORMING UP, you pathetic WURM!" he fires a shot, which easily misses the soldier with the Redguard accent.

"THEN PAY WITH YOUR BLOOD!"



Kellsgard the Goblin-slayer draws his sword, and marches upon the Dunmer with the bow, who fires a shot, but misses. Fires another shot, and misses again. Even wearing guard's armor, Kellsgard / Kahreem can move easily, and avoid the arrows of his opponents.

"Hoo-aaaah!" twick! .... dnnk!

"You should have PAID THE FINE," Kellsgard says, taking a grand swing of his pirate's cutlass. This swing misses, as the Dunmer re-positions himself. But since he is holding his bow with an arrow nocked, he moves too slowly, and takes a blow from the cutlass. woo! wooh! PLNKTH!

"Ahhhh!" .. "Let's get this over with!" "WHY ... WON'T .... YOU....Ahh!" "Give it up, Dunmer scum!"

With these words, the Redguard manages a series of blows with his cutlass. The Dunmer man clumsily switches from bow to blade, but by the time he's got his daggar ready, it's already over for him, so Kahreem now turns to the lady-Dunmer.

"You dare oppose the might ... OF THE IMPERIAL LEGION!?"

"Do your worst! Reeahhh!" *CLANG!*



Kahreem rushes down the hill, while (again) the lady with the bow misses her shots. But he quickly catches up to her while the Dunmer lady switches from bow to daggar, then begins swinging upon his shield and armor again and again! thwick twhick clank! Kellsgard realizes that her efforts are barely felt by him. And this gives him confidence.



"I'll hack you to pieces!!" she warns.

"That blade against my shiny tin suit? Ha!...Good luck with that!" wooh wooh CLINK!

"Ooogh!!"

"FORRRR THE EMPIRE!" *CLANG!*

As Kahreem strikes this final blow, and ends the life of the Dunmer trash in less than a minute, he then gazes back up the hillside, and realizes the opportunity before him.

"The Year 434 is going to be a good year," he decides.

Kahreem better watch out! He might end of genuinly good after having pretended to be for such a long time


But what´s that I see in the pic? He could choose to talk to that Bandit Bow-woman..?

I also kinda screwed up because it wasn't two Dunmer in that story, it looks like it was a Dunmer man, and Bosmer woman. Oh well. That was a pretty exciting story to write, it's hard to get all the facts straight in the heat of the moment.

- @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @


Tirdas, 1:51 pm Heartfire 4, 3rd Era 433




"You're not afraid of trouble, are you? You'd like the Fighter's Guild."

"Do you think? .. Do you think I might be okay, in the Fighter's Guild? Somebody like me?"

"If you're looking to join up, you should speak with Vilena Donton in Chorrol, Azzan in Anvil, or Burz gro-Khash in Cheydinhal."

The Breton looks at the dark elf before her with more confidence now, and is not quite so nervous. Apparently, they had been right, 'they' being various random people here in Cyrodiil. The Fighters Guild is indeed hiring new members, and is very eager to staff their ranks with new recruits.

"Training, beds, and good haahd work. Just can't beat it."

The rumor had also been going that the Fighter's Guild wasn't so particular about who they hired. "Well if you'll accept me, I would love to join." Anybody wiling and able, anybody who had the 'stones for it', could simply walk in and become a new member. This dark elf's words were final proof.

"If you're interested, see Vilena Donton in Chorrol, or Azzan in Anvil, or Burz gro-Khash in Cheydinhal," the dark elf repeats patiently.

"Oh, many apologies. I will try finding Vilena, at the very least. Hello my lady. Might you be Vilena?" *

"Greetings, how may I help you? Are you perhaps interested in joining the Fighters Guild?"

"Ah, fellow Breton, this I am. Interested. In joining the F-Fighter's Guild?" she nearly stammers ... "If you would accept me, that is. I - I just rid the bandits located under Chorrol by the way, if this should give you reasoning."

But there's apparently no question in Vilena's mind, she doesn't seem to notice the Breton's nervous demeanor at all. "The Fighters Guild is a brotherhood of warriors. We provide a service to Tamriel, lending steel and shield to those who need our help.

"Yes! And I am eager to do so."

"Whether that means ridding a town of an invading menace or protecting a helpless mage, we'll take the contract."

"So that is all then? ... No test to prove myself worthy, or any such thing as this?"

"The Fighter's Guild is always looking for new members. If you've got a clean record, and don't have a bounty on your head, we may be able to use you. . Are you interested in joining?"

"Yes! But..."

"Excellent. You are now an associate of the Fighter's Guild..."

"Yes okay but...."

"You should report to either Azzan in Anvil, or Burz- gro-Khash in Cheydinhal, for contracts."

"Do you not even want to know my name? Who I am? .. Joan of Arkay at your service. Devoted follower of the nine, but especially involved within the dealings of life, and after-life. I am keenly interested in the disposings of undead, and the ridding of necromancers and vampires. All miscreants who pollute our precious Tamriel. I have fallible reasons to believe Arkay would prefer I ... perhaps we... target these sort of miscreants above all."

Vilena Donton merely stares at Joan, not having much to contribute on these subjects, apparently.

"And ... that is all. Joan of Arkay, but you can call me Joan, or Joanie. I am glad to be an Associate of the Fighter's Guild, and will try my best not to disappoint."

"Bye."

Heh! It´s like they´re giving a badge and a gun to anyone who just happens to show up!


No offense, Joan...

It's okay, I agree with you!

Lol, Joan wanted to tell Vilena about herself but she just didn't get her chance. When I began reading the story, I at first thought that you created someone new and that this is the introduction.

I am posting an old RG3 update this week (don't hurt me!), but it should be an exciting one. This is the tale of Renee 3's fourth Arena match.

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Sundas, 10:34 AM, Frostfall 14, 4th Era 20

It takes Renee five minutes to change from one set of armor to the next. All around her are the sounds of weapons clanging, and gladiators sparring. Renee laces up her heavy armor raiment with help from an underling, really liking the way it feels upon her skin. Toughened, she is. She decides here and now that she's going to have Gabrielle carry a set of this armor out of the Arena somehow, if this is allowed. If it is, maybe she'll wear it while adventuring out in the world. Such a set might be not warm enough for the Valus Mountains, but would be decent for some road-walking around the Niben.

Renee returns to speak to her host, down here in the Bloodworks: "Is this better?" she asks, expecting some sort of rudeness in reply, but Owyn has only inspirative words to say.

"Okay Brawler, you know the drill. Head up to that Arena and show 'em who's boss!"

"That it, huh? No... 'my grandma could fight better than that and she's dead' this time, eh? Well good. Would not have to embarrass you once again with the slaughter I am about to present."

"What are you waiting for, go get 'em!"

"They shall taste my silver broadsword, Redguard. Then they shall fall."

Determined green eyes. A poignant stare. Renee had decided after her last fight here that the rare, expensive sword she brought with her from Skyrim gives too much of an advantage. Those first three matches had been far too easy for her, and it seemed the crowds up above weren't as impressed with easy fights. They want some drama. Renee had determined this after betting & watching some fights. So, instead of an �ber-schwert, today she's got an ordinary silver piece which could be found or bought virtually anywhere.

As she walks from the Red Room and up to the Arena's gate, she can virtually feel the gold slipping through her fingers. But she cautions herself anyways....

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11:12 AM
This time it's not raining. Excellent. Renee feels the old anticipation begin to build with every step, and with every step, this anticipation doesn't seem as old ...

"Good people of the Imperial City, WELCOME to the ARENA!" says the loud, booming, unseen voice.

Renee prepares her chakram, and casts a spell which fortifies her armor.

"This match is a battle of the Brawlers!!!! ... as these brave warriors fight .... for glory! ..Combatants..BEGIN!"

It is not raining It is not raining! Renee thinks without being entirely aware. She crouches down like she had done so many times while dungeoneering, crouches so she can better aim her circular chakram. As she sees her opponent begin to run toward in grand steps, Renee expertly throws her weapon, making it go zing!, hoping for some early damage. It doesn't connect unfortuantely, and a moment later it makes its way back into her right hand. So she slings the chakram, then grabs the giant sword off her back, and quickly blocks an early swing from her opponent, who manages to just make it to the Warrior Princess from Skyrim.

Renee's opponent, a Nord female who probably thought she might live another day to tell the tale of how she destroyed some Imperial scum-cheese from Skyrim, wields a longsword, and wears light armor while brandishing a shield.

"Ready for your death, Yellow One?"

"What's the matter getting tired?" she barks in return. Her breath smells of ale.

"Exactly, I am 'getting tired'. Yet after I smear your carcass all over this pit, you might begin to imagine yourself wishing you yourself had just stayed in bed."



Renee does what she did before, and runs out into the middle of the pit, so that all can see what is about to commence! She notices the crowd has thickened a bit* since she last fought here. She gives a quick wave to them, then focuses upon the maggot before her.

"I am offering you to walk away, Yelllow Team scum! Cast aside your weapon, if you know what is best for you, and just give up."

"AAAGHA!"

The two ladies trade blows, and dance around the Arena's perimeter. Renee really decides she's going to make a show of it, and moves around from one side of the floor to the other, allowing the spectators plenty to see. She blocks several swings effectively, then manages a full-body sideswipe against her foe. This causes the Nord with the smelly breath to fall right on her back. Miss Gade then takes her sword and raises it high, but does not aim it at the Yellow Team dog.

"'Tis unfair to land a blow upon a fallen oppenent!" she says, allowing smelly-breath to rise. "Come at me again, and it will be the last decision for you to make."

The Yellow Team swords-lady doesn't do so, instead she dashes around Renee's side, quick as can be. Despite some massive pain, the Nordic woman gets a good hit on her. "TAKE THAT!" Renee follows with a quarter swing to the lady's pelvis. "ARRGH!!"

"Try having babies NOW, kurba!"

... "I've fought mudcrabs more fearsome than OOOOH!"

Renee manages a good blow to her opponent, then takes several backward steps and casts a light healing spell, just in case.

"WHY .... WON'T .... YOU ... DIE?" the Nord asks, really starting to lose her patience. She had won her first three matches in less than a week; this Imperial was supposed to be dead by now.

"Because today ... is my lucky day, prasica! I hope you enjoyed that ale you have on your breath, it will be your last."

Four more blows (and this time, Renee does not let up when the lady staggers) and it's all over. * BANG! BASH! CLANG! CLASH! * The Yellow Team Brawler is down, and does not rise. As the crowd begins to cheer, Renee looks to the sky, glad to see only sunshine.

"WE HAVE A WINNER!" announces the unseen voice. "FROM THE BLUE TEAM! ... ALL HAIL THE CHAMPION ... FROM THE BLUE TEAM!"



Renee Gade the third waves, then gives a curtsey to the crowd, lumbering proudly off. She looks up to the stands, where she spots many people, Gabrielle most of all. Renee grins wolf-like to her friend. Gabrielle does not return a grin of her own.

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11:39 AM
Sweat and blood, blood and sweat. The Warrior from Skyrim feels about as good as a sword-master can be. Energy swirls through her veins, an energy which is difficult to discern, whether it is magical or simply physical. But despite all of this, she is greeted by a rather dour Redguard, who stands nonchalantly, as though he's wondering what he'd like to have for lunch.

"Four wins is okay kid, but it don't make you Grand Champion." Owyn's tone, Renee notices, is not nearly as acidic as it was the last three times she had won a match, but neither is it as ecstatic, like the way she feels. " Here's your payout," he says, as if he's doling wages to somebody with a job much more mundane. A cobbler or stablehand, perhaps. "Now go clean yourself up before your next match."

"Um yeah. Well gee, thanks. Hey, Owyn, could you be any more dour? I just won four in a row, straight, with no quitting walkouts. Tell me with a straight face that anybody else has performed such a feat, lately, eh? A little more enthusiasm would not hurt. I might become your star pupil, Redguard."

"What-ever you say, whelp. I am not impressed. Don't make me demote you back to Pit Dog. I'll do it too. Watch."

"Grab some papyrus, Redguard, and then grab a quill and some ink. Do all this so you can write down the very words you are going to eat later on, once Arena match number five definitely falls under my garters. I'll do it too. Watch."

And with that, Renee turns heel and strides away, leaving Owyn the Blademaster standing speechless.

Don´t worry, Renee. We won´t hurt you....



T´was a good story, I like her dedication and sense of showmanship.. But that spoiler thing didn´t work. Though I guess it had to do with a crowd filler mod...


Edit: Now the spoiler thing worked

This is my favorite Renee's story, it's more than just describing a match, good to see her making a show for specators. The ending is great, when she says what she has to say and then repeats what Owyn said "I'll do it too. Watch."

Oh, and the Spoiler works fine for me.