General Boards > PBP Games
The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim- A Mind Without a Heart
LordNecross:
Markarth, they say all that goes through it is blood and silver. It is among this blood we shall find ourselves, this blood is people, they are the Blood of all Tamriel. It is among the Blood we find the few who stand out, those few make the world the way it is. Whether it is a Emperor leading his people, a bandit pillaging a village or someone with an utterly sinister purpose.
Just in Markarth you can find an example of all of this. It is these examples with which we shall associate. Let the waft of eternity grasp your senses as we open the Scroll yet again, and it shall tell you a story that had been written long before it started.
The air was warm and stagnant, It always seemed to be like this in Markarth, with the stone warmed by the bustling people in the city. The forges raged as they smelted silver from the mines, further adding to the heat. Sometimes a worker may be lucky to have the wind blow some snow into the crevasse in the mountain in which Markarth was built. The temperature differed in the higher areas though, as only the rich frequented those areas. Not even the cold mountain water seemed to help, when so close to the mine.
For travelers the stark contrast of temperature would be shocking, as it could be a steady 80 degrees Fahrenheit while just outside the entrance could be 40 and lower.
The Silver-Blood inn was not a jovial place, most of the patrons were workers who blew there Septims on alcohol to wash their troubled lives away, if only to escape for a little while.
Some were the curious sort though, who didn't have much to worry about, as they were well paid thugs in the pockets of the Silver-Blood Family.
The focus of their attention was the Robed man in the corner, who was nursing a glass of wine while ready intellectual books. He seemed fairly bulky under the robe betraying to them his armor underneath.
Occasionally he would speak to the inn-keeper and there was a slight of the hand, he was obviously paying the inn-keeper well, as this man had been living in the inn for a few months now.
Not much was known about him except he had payed frequent visits to Calcemo the Court Mage, who seemed all too intrigued in him. It was also known he was looking to hire people to help him, but the lack of available details left many not wanting to risk anything he could possibly offer.
Who would risk it? Only the Divines would know.
SirEmilCrane:
Markarth, he had finally made it to Markarth. The gates opened as the band of war refugees were let in. Gallen Velas had picked up this group around Whiterun, presumably fleeing the fighting, they didn't ask his story but were grateful for the help when bandits thought their band easy prey.
As he entered the city he was shocked by the temperature change. It reminded him of his homeland in summer, it would have been harvest season in Vvardenfell now, were it still habitable. In true nord fashion the first thing you saw as you entered the city was the inn. Gallen went in to find some food and accommodation.
LordNecross:
--- Quote from: SirEmilCrane on January 28, 2012, 05:15:37 AM --- In true nord fashion the first thing you saw as you entered the city was the inn. Gallen went in to find some food and accommodation.
--- End quote ---
As with any new stranger entering the Inn, there was a general shush and stares, the only sound the drums of the Local bard near the hearth.
The inn-keeper, Kleppr greeted the dunmer with a false grin. "Is there anything I can do for you?" The older mans eyes seemed to already be in the process of judging the dark elf.
SirEmilCrane:
--- Quote from: LordNecross on January 28, 2012, 05:23:05 AM ---As with any new stranger entering the Inn, there was a general shush and stares, the only sound the drums of the Local bard near the hearth.
The inn-keeper, Kleppr greeted the dunmer with a false grin. "Is there anything I can do for you?" The older mans eyes seemed to already be in the process of judging the dark elf.
--- End quote ---
Gallen walked up to the counter, making a small sign that he was armed but not looking for trouble.
"A room and some food sera." The man was obviously judging him, and in another life Gallen would have cut him down where he stood, but he couldn't afford trouble, not now.
mikethor007:
The road had been perilous, both because of wildlife, and because of bandits and thieves out on the road. Talib didn't know exactly what, but something seemed wrong with this land. As if it were somehow angered, or reacting to some nefarious presence. As if nature were constantly on edge.
He trudged through the gates of Markath, looking for the first place where he'd be able to get supplies, namely food. The transition from cold, to warm and then hot a mere paces from the gates made him pause though, and look around to see if there was a fire. He saw nothing but the mines, radiating heat.
He turned and headed for the nearest inn, hoping the scorch marks on his armor wouldn't attract too much attention.
Navigation
[0] Message Index
[#] Next page
Go to full version