|  Author | Topic: A Day in Anvil (Read 137 times) |
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Karma: 35 |  | A Day in Anvil
« Thread Started on Apr 25, 2007, 4:57pm » | |
A cool sea breeze sprung up, coming in off the sea waves lapping at the cool shore that met with the docile Abecean Sea and was the south border of the beautiful little city of Anvil. It bypassed the silent sentinel of the lighthouse and ruffled the sails of the ships docked in the harbor, billowing past around the buildings and up and over the walls separating the dock from the rest of the city. Along its path it enveloped a tall man in its grasps, teasing the dark blue robe he wore and carrying it from its formerly still resting about his calm form.
The man stood passively staring out to see, watching the sea birds swooping and calling lazily in the mid-morning sun. Behind him stood a large dog, panting peacefully as the sun was absorbed in his dark mottled coat. The Altmer wondered briefly, as he watched these birds, if they served any actual purpose in the world other than flying. However, as he watched, one of them folded wings to its sides and plummeted into the waves just past the lighthouse. The man’s dull green eyes widened slightly, and a light brown eyebrow rose daintily, but the bird soon came shooting out of the crystal waters, a fish grasped tightly in its beak. Ah, the man thought, that explains it.
“Are you aware that you are in everyone’s way?!” an angry voice grumbled suddenly, and the man turned from the peaceful scene to find a ship crewman practically dropping a wooden crate on the ground behind him. It was only at this moment that the man realized he was standing in the way of a large pile of crates which he assumed were being offloaded from one of the ships, and that the crewmen were obviously just getting to work.
“In everyone’s way, sir, or in your way? I hardly see a reason to worry over an Imperial sea rat,” the Altmer man replied, a slight smirk on his face. The stout Imperial sailor muttered under his breath as only a sailor could: that is to say, with much cursing. He picked up the package and shouldered his way past the Altmer, shoving him none too gently out of his way to drop the crate on the stack with a heavy thud. “Such poor manners,” the Altmer commented, starting another string of mutterings from the departing sailor.
“Filthy Altmeri son of a…” the Imperial muttered as he trudged off back towards one of the docked ships, followed by the barking of the large canine. The Altmer smirked after the sailor before he turned with a rustling of robes and the slight metallic sound of the armor he wore under it, heading towards one of the well-kept buildings lining the docks, the dog following him. The structure was of all wood, but well built and kept clean, with a sign hanging next to the door, a picture of a moon painted upon it: the symbol of inns in Cyrodiil.
The mer opened the door to the quiet jungle of the bell rigged to it and stepped in to the dimly lit room of the inn’s barroom. The innkeeper looked up from the parchment he was reading, then quickly put it down and began pulling out a glass and bottle from behind the counter, watching the Altmer as he spoke. “Good morn’ to ya, Henende, will ya be havin’ tha’ usual?”
“Yes, Cidius, thank you,” Henende said in an amiable voice, closing the door behind him and walking regally to the counter, accompanied as always by the metallic clinking of his armor and the rustle of his robes. He stood in front of the counter and removed a few Septims from a bag tided at his waist and placed them on the counter as Cidius placed a chunk of fresh bread and a cut of venison on a plate and slid the wine and the plate across the counter to the Altmer.
“Thank ya for yer patronage, as always,” the Imperial man said with a grin, colleting the Septims greedily as the Altmer collected his meal and went to one of the tables in a shadowed corner of the room, seating himself elegantly in one of the wooden chairs. It creaked quietly, and he wondered briefly if it could hold his weight, but when it showed no further signs of weakness, he was assured that it would be fine and began to eat his meal, a slightly finer quality one than most of the patrons of this inn would be found eating.
When he had finished the meat and bread, it was only about half a second later that the Imperial had come and picked up his plate, leaving a copy of the Black Horse Courier in it’s place, “Tha’ latest issue, sir. Interestin’ stuff, this time,” he said. The Altmer smiled politely, dropping a few Septims’ tip into the man’s hand. Cidius muttered a thank you and returned to the bar.
Henende sipped his wine slowly as he picked up the parchment and began to read. Indeed it was interesting, especially to this particular Altmer; a certain mage Erthor had been recently discovered as a necromancer in the guild hall in Skingrad, and the Arch Mage had dealt with him by killing him, along with a hive of several other necromancers. The Altmer smirked with an air of arrogance to it, Fools to get themselves caught. I suppose not everyone can be as skilled as I.
Henende continued to read the rest of the issue, pausing to sip his wine or to pat the large dog who sat faithfully by his side every so often, or to hand off another Septim to the innkeeper, who paid special mind to make sure his glass never emptied. The necromancer wondered how much longer he would have the inn to himself to continue enjoying such treatment; given the amount of ship traffic today, he wagered that it would not be for long.
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Lorren
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #1 on Apr 25, 2007, 5:47pm » | |
The breeze was cool as it blew across the docks, rustling the clothing of the sailors and townspeople, along with the few sea plants that nestled their roots in the soft sand-mixed dirt that surrounded the area.
This breeze brought with it the smell of the ocean, a refined salty aroma mixed with the smell of sea-born fish and other creatures. It was a smell that one grew used to after living in Anvil for years, and one that the sailors that often docked there found intoxicating, stirring their spirits as they carried about their business of loading and unloading the ships, and selling their goods.
However, not all creatures loved the smell of the sea, the most notable of these the small young Bosmer woman that made her way down the docks. If one took the time to look at her, they might think that she had smelled something particularly foul. Her nose was scrunched up tightly, eyes narrowed in a perminant glare. The fact of the matter was, however, she was poised like that in an attempt to keep the salty air from causing her to sneeze.
As long as she could remember, Lorren had been somewhat allergic to the smell of the ocean, a fact that had caused her to hate it with a fiery passion. So it was no surprise that Anvil, being nothing but sea, was the most Shadow-forsaken town she'd ever been to. Luckily for her, she didn't usually have reason to be there. On the other hand, she had to stay here for another couple of days, a fact that she could hardly forget as her whole body seized up and she sneezed violently for about the tenth time since arriving in Anvil that morning.
If it weren't for the fact that she owed her mage friend from Bruma for concocting her several very effective high powered invisibility potions, she wouldn't be anywhere near this place. As it was, the strange Khajiit had requested that she bring him back ten samplings of Ninroot. Why he wanted the strange tinkling plant, she had no clue, nor did she care to find out. She merely wanted to get what she needed and get out of this place as soon as possible. That was easier said than done of course, as Ninroot was about the rarest plant in Cyrodiil. Fantastic.
The need to eat before she embarked on her task, accompanied by the need to get inside where the smell couldn't reach her, greatly outweighed her need to get out of Anvil at this point, and so it was with this thought that she turned and entered the small inn quickly, shutting the door behind her.
The inn was dark compared to the harsh sunlight outside and Lorren silently thanked the gods that it didn't smell like salt. There was only one other occupant in the room not counting the bartender. He was an Altmer, reading the daily news at a table. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at how pompous he looked, she stepped up to the bar and caught the man's attention.
"Good mornin' to ya, lass. What can I be gettin' ya on this fine day?" he asked cheerfully. Lorren managed a smile.
"Anything that doesn't have salt in it, please," she replied. Expecting a strange look, she was surprised when the man chuckled at her.
"Not a fan of the sea then, eh?" he questioned. Lorren shook her head.
"It makes me sneeze." The barkeep grunted in response.
"I'm afraid ye've come to the wrong place then, lass. Tain't nothin' but the sea in Anvil," he pointed out.
"Well unfortunately a debt to a friend has brought me here. I'm looking for Ninroot for him, and it just so happens that this place has some," she explained.
"Ah yes, strange plant that. Well in any case, there ain't much I can offer ya without salt that would taste too good, less ya want some fruits," he offered. Lorren grinned.
"Actually, I think that would be great," she said. He smiled.
"Comin' right up then." With that, he moved off to get her order ready. Lorren sat down on the nearest barstool while she waited, hoping that no one would come in, lest they brought that putrid smell in with them. She took a small glance at the Altmer, finding him as uninteresting as she found ever Altmer. Hopefully she could be done with this mess quickly.
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« Reply #2 on Apr 25, 2007, 7:24pm » | |
The bell rigged to the door of the little inn jingled quietly, and the Altmer glanced up from his reading to watch as a young Bosmer entered and glanced around before going to speak with the inn keeper. Henende simply dismissed her as a traveler or adventurer of some sort and went back to his reading, engrossed in reading reports of the damage being done to the cities of Tamriel by ‘unknown forces’.
Koeter, however, did not so easily dismiss this new comer; bar patrons meant food, and they were always more likely than Henende to slip him a hand-out. The wolf dog glanced up at Henende and, seeing that he was not paying attention, stood and quietly walked towards the bar where the Bosmer sat on one of the stools. He approached slowly and quietly so as to not alert Henende; Koeter was no fool, and he knew his master’s reaction would not be to praise him should the Altmer know that he was begging for food again.
The hound walked up to the stool next to the Bosmer and lifted a paw onto the wooden surface, hoisting himself up to balance with both forepaws on the stool. He stretched his head towards the girl, perking his ears forward and opening his mouth in the semblance of a grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gave the girl a look more fitting of a puppy than a nearly full grown wolf dog.
Trying to catch the girl’s attention, Koeter stretched out a paw and rested it on the girl’s leg, balancing his weight on his other three paws to do so, and let out a quiet, rather pathetic, whine; he was a near expert at begging for food. Henende always got engrossed in reading the news, and he never paid any attention, always giving Koeter enough time to at least attempt to earn some food from the other patrons.
This time, however, the whine caught Henende’s attention; the inn was not yet loud enough for him to miss the sound of his dog’s whine. He glanced down to his side where the dog was supposed to be, and, seeing he was not there, glanced around the room to see what Koeter wanted. Upon seeing where his dog was and, more importantly, what he was doing, the Altmer sighed and snapped his fingers once. The dog immediately retracted his paw from the Bosmer and whipped his head around to face the Altmer, dropping his ears slightly in submission.
“Koeter, down,” the Altmer ordered, not even bothering to get up; indeed, it was not necessary, because the dog immediately dropped all four paws to the ground and slunk back over to his owner, whimpering pitifully; even he knew the use of gaining pity in getting food. Henende rolled his eyes and pointed to the spot on the floor next to him, where Koeter immediately sat. The wayward wolf dog taken care of, the Altmer lifted his gaze to the Bosmer girl, considering her a bit more than he had the first time.
“I’m terribly sorry miss,” he called, just loudly enough for her to hear from where he was on the near opposite side of the room, “He acts as though I never feed him. I know I taught him better than to beg for food,” he said pointedly; Koeter whined quietly and lifted his head to lick at Henende’s hand where it was on the edge of the table. He glanced down at the dog, shook his head silently, and Koeter immediately stopped, settling instead to give him one of his copyrighted pathetic looks. Henende rolled his eyes slightly and dropped his hand to slowly rub the dog’s head.
As the dog rested his head on the Altmer’s leg, content that his master had forgiven him, the Altmer looked back to the Bosmer, looking at her expectantly while he waited for her to reply. Surely it would only be polite for her to say something to his apology; after all, poor Cidius would need some reassurance that his newest patron hadn’t been scared off by the huge dog which he only reluctantly allowed in his inn. Henende would hate to have to slip him more Septims because Koeter couldn’t behave when there was food to be had.
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Lorren
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #3 on Apr 26, 2007, 4:03pm » | |
The dog had surprised her. She'd seen it when she came in, glanced at it briefly. She even remembered it raising its head in curiosity slightly as she approached the bar. But she'd forgotten about it quickly as she began to speak to the bartender.
So of course it had startled her a bit when the large animal raised up on the stool, massive head just inches away from her face. His paw streaked across her leg, not hard, but it put her on guard anyway. She couldn't be sure that this dog, who looked more wolf than dog really with his large head and paws, pointed ears and long shaggy hair, was not here to do harm to her. The fact that she didn't know his owner hardly helped, nor did it help that he was an Altmer. They were always up to some strange activity.
However, she was put at ease when the dog gave a long whine, blowing hot, smelly dog breath in her face. She scrunched her face up again at the smell, but couldn't help being glad that it wasn't sea smell at least. She grinned slightly. He was kind of cute. A piece of fruit wouldn't hurt...
Before Lorren had time to follow through with what the dog so obviously wanted her to do, the Altmer snapped his fingers, catching both of their attentions. He called the dog, Koeter his name was, back over to his spot next to him. Slightly disappointed that the dog was so obedient, she planned to turn back to her food. However, the Altmer interrupted again, apologizing for the dog's actions. She turned back to him and managed a polite smile.
"That's alright, I don't mind. My pet rat loves human food. If it weren't for the fact that he's such a whimp, he'd probably be just as bad," she said, looking down at the dog with a smile. She then turned back to the Altmer. "Is he full dog? He looks like he's got some wild in him."
Just then, the barkeep returned, a pewter plate full of fruit in one hand and a bottle of ale in the other. He set them down in front of her and she smiled at him gratefully.
"Here ya go, lass, one plate of salt-free fruit. 'Fraid I'm all outta wine, so I hope ya don't mind a bit o' good ale. Made it myself, best in town," he told her proudly.
"Well in that case I suppose I'll just have to try it, won't I?" Lorren asked with a grin. The barkeep returned it.
"That ya will, lass," he replied. "Name's Cidius."
"Lorren," she said, taking the offered hand. The barkeep glanced over to the Altmer and Koeter.
"That mut ain't givin' ya no problems, is he?" Lorren shook her head.
"Hasn't even made a sound," she lied. Cidius eyed the dog suspiciously and Lorren handed him a few Septims to distract him. He took them and nodded at her.
"Enjoy." Lorren started in on an apple, before remembering that she'd asked the Altmer a question, and turned back to him for an answer.
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« Reply #4 on Apr 26, 2007, 4:57pm » | |
The Altmer just barely managed to turn his grimace into a polite smile at the mention of her choice of a pet. She has a rat for a pet? Oblivion, that’s worse than my servants, the man thought, but said nothing as the mer turned her attention back to him rather than the fur ball at his feet. If nothing else while in town, Koeter certainly made for an interesting conversation topic; Henende stroked the dog’s head again as if to reward him for that.
The Altmer was just about to reply to the Bosmer’s question, but it was just at that moment that the innkeeper returned, and Henende waited politely for them to finish speaking. While they did, he took the time to look the girl over a bit more closely. She was certainly no heathen, and her manners were actually quite commendable; he was also very grateful to her for lying to Cidius about Koeter. The wolf dog caused him enough trouble; he was glad that he would not be such a problem with this Bosmer. Perhaps she was more than the rugged adventurer he had formerly dismissed her as, and he noted her name when she gave it, making sure it would not be forgotten.
When the Bosmer girl turned back to him, the Altmer figured that she was waiting still for his reply, and that now it would no longer be a rude interruption for him to give it, “I’m afraid Cidius has an accurate description of Koeter; he is a mutt. One of his parents was a wolf, though I’m not sure which one. I found him abandoned as a pup and have raised him since. It appears, however, that he missed the fact that he is no longer a pup,” Henende explained pleasantly, grinning slightly as the dog gave another quiet whine at the mention of his name.
Cidius looked up from his work at the whine, giving the oversized hound a glare, “Ya ought ta’ keep that thing on a rope ‘r somethin’,” the Imperial muttered, “Wolves are known fer bitin’.”
“Then it is a good thing that he is not full wolf, wouldn’t you agree?” Henende replied, purposely ignoring the suggestion to keep his dog on any sort of leash; it was an insult to Koeter’s good training; the wolf dog was incredibly well trained, no matter how much of that training he chose to ignore at times.
The man grunted a vague response and went off to the back room to do some form of work, leaving the two mer alone in the main barroom once again. Koeter perked up at this, lifting his head from Henende’s leg and pricking his ears forward towards the Bosmer. Now that the innkeeper was gone, all he had to worry about was Henende, and maybe his master would relent this time and allow him to get some extra food; after all, this stranger hadn’t gotten angry at his presence as most did. Wasn’t that the only thing the Altmer worried about with his begging?
It was. Henende glanced down at Koeter, his attention caught by his movement, and rolled his eyes, his lips upturned slightly; he couldn’t help but be fond of the wolf dog, even when he was acting like an oversized pup. He snapped his fingers quietly, gaining the hound’s attention, and nodded slightly towards the Bosmer. Koeter’s tail wagged once, his ears slightly lowered in submission as he waited for vocal permission.
“Very well; go over there and show Lorren that you can be good and ask rather than beg, and maybe she’ll give you something,” the man said, then watched in amusement as his dog barked quietly once in excitement and trotted over to the Bosmer girl. Koeter understood enough of his master’s words to not try jumping up on the stool again; this time he stopped at the foot of the girl’s stool and sat down, his tail wagging slightly. He perked his ears up and tilted his head slightly, barking once as if to say ‘please’.
The Altmer watched the half-wolf’s performance in amusement, chuckling quietly; if not for his size and the wolfish traits of his form, no person in all Tamriel would guess this dog to be half wolf, not with the way he acted in public. Back at the fort, Koeter was a solemn guard dog, far more resembling the wolf in him. But here, whenever the dog accompanied Henende into town, he acting nothing more than an oversized pup. And even Henende had to admit that Koeter beat even him when it came to persuading people; there were few females who could resist one of his pleading looks.
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Lorren
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #5 on Apr 26, 2007, 5:21pm » | |
Eyebrow raised slightly, Lorren looked down at the large dog as the Altmer man explained the dog's origins. So her suspicions were right then. He was half wolf. This didn't bother her of course, being that she'd grown up in the forest with many wild animals, wolves included. And the dog was quite cute, and very well behaved for his part.
She grinned when Koeter's owner gave him permission to come over and ask politely for some food, chuckling when he actually did, his small bark a form of requesting some food. She looked over her plate, assessing the different fruits that Cidius had piled up there. It seemed as if he'd given her every fruit in Tamriel.
Being that she'd only ever had to care for Avasa animal wise, she wasn't sure exactly what the dog would care for, though by the sound of his heavy panting accompanied by the occasional whine, and the look on his face as his tongue hung out the side of his mouth, she suspected that he wouldn't really care much what she gave him. This is mind, she finally decided on a banana, peeling it open and breaking a piece off.
Koeter accepted the fruit politely as ever, managing to only get a little bit of slober on her fingers as she pulled them away. Lorren watched in amusement as he chewed it up, his nose scrunched up a bit as he did so. She got the feeling that he didn't actually like it much, but was eating it solely for the fact that she'd given it to him.
As she continued to feed the dog, she turned her attention back to the Altmer who was watching them from his table. Reserved as she tended to be about High Elves, this one seemed to be fairly well behaved. He was polite, at least, which was something that she couldn't say for most Altmers that she'd met. Of course he still had that look of arrogance perminately attached to his face, but Lorren felt sure that it was hardly something he could help.
Realizing that it would only be polite to continue the conversation, she put the empty banana peel down and started stroking the dog's head. The canine looked slightly disappointed at the lack of food that he was now being given, but he wasn't about to refuse physical attention either. Lorren looked up at the Altmer again.
"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. Do you live here in Anvil?" she asked, inspecting him curiously once more.
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« Reply #6 on Apr 26, 2007, 6:35pm » | |
Henende watched, smiling slightly, as the girl fed Koeter a banana. It was truly amazing the things his dog would eat in town, when he blatantly refused the same things once they had returned to the fort. It was almost as if the dog understood the concept of ‘beggars can’t be choosers’; he would never refuse any offered food when on his little begging runs here in the inn.
As the girl asked her question, Henende took a final sip of his wine, finishing off the goblet. It was obvious the Cidius was done waiting hand and foot on him, so the Altmer stood and pushed the chair back under the table, returning his eating area to its prior condition. He watched the girl silently as he walked to the counter, accompanied by the sound of his armor and robes, waiting until he was closer to reply. Koeter perked up at the noise, watching his master to see why he moved, but was soon satisfied that he was not needed and returned to harvesting all the attention he could from the Bosmer girl. Henende placed the goblet on the wooden surface of the counter, then turned to the Bosmer and nodded politely, his version of shaking hands; it simply wasn’t intelligent to get close enough to someone that they could stick a dagger in you.
“Henende the rogue mage, at your service,” he said, grinning slightly; he had to admit, this Bosmer wasn’t at all bad looking. Koeter whined once, as if to complain that Henende was taking the attention away from him, but silenced when the Altmer took a seat on the bar stool next to the Bosmer’s and dropped a hand to rub the wolf dog’s thick scruff; he was happy so long as he received the appropriate amount of attention. Henende let out a short laugh at Koeter’s behavior, then turned his attention back to the Bosmer to answer her other question.
“I live outside Anvil, just up the coast a ways, in my own place. It’s cheaper and more peaceful than a city house,” he explained, conveniently omitting the fact that it was an old fort ruin inhabited by mindless undead servants. No need to tell her that much; it would be most counterproductive to keeping my cover. “So, what of you, Lorren? Where are you from? Surely not around Anvil; I hardly could forget such a face,” he said, smiling wryly.
As the Altmer waited for the girl’s reply, still petting the overgrown fur ball that was Koeter, he took the time to again study the girl, especially now he was closer and could see better, his vision no longer obscured by the shadows of the corner he had been sitting in. She was indeed quite young, perhaps only in her late teen years, but she was well spoken for so young, and she certainly did not seem the type to be your run of the mill foolish young adventurer with more ambition than skill. Rather, this Bosmer seemed to have at least as much skill as ambition, if not more skill. At least, that was to his eye; still, Henende prided himself on being able to read people. And he did indeed love seeing if his readings were correct. He would simply have to hang around long enough to see if this young Bosmer was at all what he thought her to be; her reaction to his attempt at charming her would surely be a fine start in judging this.
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Lorren
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #7 on Apr 26, 2007, 8:14pm » | |
A small grin graced the Bosmer's face as she resisted the urge to snort at the obvious charm that the Altmer was sending her way. Leave it to her to be the subject of flirtation so soon into the conversation.
It wasn't that the Elf, Henende as he called himself, wasn't good looking. He was handsome, in a High Elf sort of way. The fact of the matter was that Lorren wasn't actually looking for any sort of relationship at the moment, nor did she know enough about this man to really be interested. Far be it for her to actually have some morals, but she could hardly base a want for a relationship off of attraction and charm alone.
Not to mention the fact that "rogue mage" could most certainly mean anything. He could simply be a random adventurer that used magicks to get himself by. He could also not be an adventurer at all, and just use magicks for fun. Or perhaps he was a Mage's Guild cast out, intent on revenge. Or even worse, a necromancer.
Lorren looked over him again, trying to find any sign that he was in fact a necromancer. Then she realized that she didn't actually know of necromancer's having any distinct markings other than an army of disgusting dead things trailing behind them. Since she didn't see any zombies around, nor did she think that Koeter was anywhere near dead, she quickly dismissed that theory.
"Well thank you," she started, smile returning. "And I'm afraid you're right. I could hardly survive in this town, what with me sneezing all the time whenever I'm near the ocean. I actually hail from Bruma. I guess you could say I'm a freelance proprietor."
Lorren grinned slightly at her extremely lose term for her real occupation. She liked it actually. She'd have to remember to tell Ralleigh when she got back to Bruma. He'd enjoy that. So would Ongar. Then again, Ongar hardly enjoyed anything. Perhaps she'd bring Avasa. He liked the rat.
"Rogue mage... what exactly does that mean? How does one acquire that occupation?" Lorren asked, looking at him curiously as she fed Koeter another piece of fruit. The dog scarfed it down eagerly as she waited for his answer.
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Karma: 35 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #8 on Apr 29, 2007, 12:13pm » | |
The so-called rogue mage grinned slightly as he watched the girl’s reaction; he was relatively certain that he had embarrassed her, at least partially. She seemed to be studying him a bit more closely, probably looking for whatever his intent was; it wasn’t often that a man charmed a woman without some further reason. Ah well, Henende could pride himself on being different. Little did he know, however, that the girl was actually looking to find out what his actual occupation was; how he would have laughed had he known she had just thrown away the thought of his being a necromancer.
When the girl spoke again, he found himself in much the same position that she had just been in: wondering what exactly she meant with her vague name for her occupation. Freelance proprietor would make him place her as a wondering merchant or trader, if he had only that to make the decision with; however, he had formerly been more apt to think her an adventurer by his first impression. Merchants and traders generally dressed with more fancy clothes than this Bosmer did, not to mention the amount of tattoos on her; there were very few merchants and traders who proudly showed off tattoos. Perhaps, then, she was some type of adventurer, looting caves and ruins and selling the items off. It was rather hard to tell what exactly she meant by that, and he was just about to ask when the Bosmer spoke again, asking him a very similar question regarding occupation.
His smile widened slightly; she was certainly more intelligent than the stereotypical adventurer, most of them would simply accept his answer and move on, not caring what exactly he meant by it. She was more cautious. He made a note to be watchful of that, otherwise he may end up in quite an amount of trouble should he slip up and say too much. Thankfully, however, he had an answer prepared for just the question; this Bosmer was not the first to question him more thoroughly about his occupation. The mages had practically interrogated him on the subject when he kept hanging around the guild hall without joining.
“I am but a simple mage delving into the mysteries of magicka without the sanctioning of the guild,” he smirked inwardly; it wasn’t far from the truth, “As for how I acquired such an occupation, I simply found myself interested in the magical arts, but wished more freedom than the guild mages receive. I also did not look forward to filling out paper work on all my experiments,” he grinned again, then added, “I suppose you could call me a freelance scholar.”
The Altmer paused, glancing down at his dog when Koeter whined quietly for yet another piece of fruit, and he sighed, shaking his head. He would certainly have to offer to pay for the fruit this Bosmer kept handing to his dog; he could hardly consent to let her pay for the amount of food the half-wolf could scarf down before being remotely full. Besides, she would need to eat as well; she was still young, and a growing girl would need her nourishment.
Henende again looked at the Bosmer, ignoring Koeter as best he could, before he spoke again, “Perhaps you would allow me to ask much the same of you? What precisely does being a freelance proprietor entail?” He asked, watching her curiously as he waited for her to reply; he was very interested to learn the answer to this question which he could not so easily logic out. He would be very disappointed if she did not reply, as he hated to be left ignorant to anything. He could only hope that she remained a while longer for them to continue talking; she was far more interesting than the patrons he regularly saw here, and far more competent, as well.
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Lorren
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #9 on Apr 29, 2007, 3:26pm » | |
There was a soft thump as Koeter plopped onto the floor, finally having had his fill of fruit that he didn't even actually like. He heaved a great sigh, looking up at them briefly before closing his eyes. Lorren grinned at him, wiping her fingers off on the napkin that Cidius had supplied her with before returning to feeding herself off of the fruit plate.
As she did so, she considered Henende's reply to her question. She understood why he would want to practice magicks without the Mage's Guild. They had far too many rules in Lorren's opinion, and the only service they did for anyone was the service that they did for themselves. As long as he was safe about using magick and not being a fool about it like some of these so-called "mages", she had no problem with him not being a registered guild member.
The interesting part of it came when the Altmer asked her to clarify her occupation as well. She couldn't keep from grinning at that, knowing exactly what the Fox's reaction would be at learning of her telling some stranger in Anvil that she was a thief. He would probably refuse her jobs for a week, then give her a huge contract the next week like nothing ever happened. The Fox worked in strange ways.
"Well, I can't say that I'm one for sitting in a shop all day waiting for shipments of goods to come in for me to sell. I'd much rather go and aquire these items myself. My... superviser, I suppose you could call him, informs me of an item of interest, and I go pick it up and sell it. It's actually a very fulfilling occupation," she explained, grin ever present as she did so.
She turned her attention away from him to focus on pearing an apple. She had to admit that she was enjoying this conversation much more than she would enjoy what she was really here for. As a sudden thought crossed her mind, she quirked an eyebrow and swiveled her head back to the mage.
"Tell me something, if you would. Do you happen to know anything about the Ninroot plant? You may have overheard, but I'm here to collect them for a friend of mine who just so happens to be a mage as well," she grinned. "I would hate to go after these plants and have them eat me or something strange like that. I hardly think that you can trust a plant that tinkles at you when you walk past."
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“The thief is sorry he is to be hanged, not that he is a thief.” |
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Shatan
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Karma: 35 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #10 on Apr 30, 2007, 2:45pm » | |
Dull green eyes flicked down at the movement and sound as Koeter flopped onto the wooden floor of the inn, and Henende grinned slightly as the dog closed his eyes; he obviously felt no immediate threats, or else he would never risk sleeping. Koeter may act like a pup at times, but he was probably the best watch dog anyone could get; wolves had instincts about danger, and Koeter was no different. If the wolf dog felt safe enough to just flop down and start sleeping, then Henende had nothing to worry about. Not that he had been worried, though it was always good to have that extra reassurance.
Now that the dog was asleep, he no longer had to bother petting the fur ball, either. That in mind, the Altmer folded his hands and rested them gently in his lap, lifting his gaze back to the Bosmer girl who had begun to eat her fruit rather than feed it to an ungrateful dog. Thank goodness Koeter didn’t like fruit, or else Henende would have had a lot more to worry about paying for. As it was, he already felt he owed this girl at least a handful of Septims for his glutton of a canine.
Koeter, however, was forgotten when the girl replied to his question, and the Altmer wondered over how she grinned so as she replied. It sounded simple enough, but he wondered if perhaps there was more to this little occupation of hers than she let on. Perhaps something to consider at a later date, however for now the mage felt he had questioned the girl enough on her occupation; after all, he did not wish her to pry for more about his own occupation in return.
He watched silently as the girl turned to pear an apple, considering their conversation so far. Given that he did not wish to pry any further into the subject of the freelance proprietor occupation, he found himself at an actual loss as to what to say next. This girl was not the type that you discussed the current weather with; he figured she would much rather discuss issues that actually had a meaning. As would he, for that matter, but that put things on a limited scope of what he could say. He still did not know the Bosmer well enough to judge how much he could or could not say, and she was curious enough that if he wasn’t careful with the subject he brought up, he may find himself in a very awkward position. Say, if he were to mention the recent story about the necromancers in Skingrad. Henende could just see that ending very poorly for himself.
Thankfully, however, the Bosmer beat him to speaking, and she brought up a decidedly safe subject. He was certainly no alchemist—crawling through the underbrush was not exactly what he considered an entertaining pastime—but he had heard much about the strange and rare Nirnroot. The necromancer had to grin at the Bosmer’s mention of the plant eating her; that would hardly be the case, though he had heard plenty of strange tales of the powers of that odd plant. The folklore of the people of Cyrodiil could be quite amusing indeed, and while he had never encounter the plant himself, he knew much of what the common folk believed about it was far from true. However, much of what he knew had come from reading a certain missive on the subject, and from conversing with other mages, so little could be of use to this Bosmer. There were a couple things, however, that she might find very useful indeed.
“I myself am no alchemist, I’m afraid, though I have heard quite a bit about the plant. Its properties are rather unknown, but are said to be dangerous if ingested; other than that, it should pose no danger. I have yet to hear any reports of the plants eating anyone,” he paused, chuckling quietly, before continuing, “I have also heard rumors that the plant is most commonly found near water. Commonly, of course, is a relative term in this case; I have not yet met with anyone successful in finding one. I wish you luck in your search for it, though I’m afraid I can offer little else in the way of help. As I said, I have no experience in searching for even the most common of plants, let alone a nearly extinct specimen,” he paused again, chuckling at his own lack of skill.
“Of course,” he added, grinning mischievously, “I’m sure that someone so intelligent will have no trouble at all. Do let me know when you are successful; I’m sure that the other mages will love to know that the plant still exists. And I, for one, will love to see the looks on the guild mages’ faces when they find that a freelance proprietor beat them to finding a Nirnroot,” the Altmer said, yet another shameless attempt at charm; his voice held no sarcasm, but was actually quite sincere.
And truthfully, he did actually believe this Bosmer had a better chance of finding the plant; the guild mages tried complicated and useless means of finding the plant. Henende believed that this Bosmer would simply march out to the wilds and start looking; a far more practical way of finding the plant than the methods mages tended to use. Of course, whether or not the Bosmer realized he was sincere was still to be announced; he would actually find this reaction quite amusing, he was sure. His grin widened slightly, as he watched the girl, waiting to see how she would interpret his remark. Words were such fun.
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Lorren
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Do tell how you expect me to steal this. I'm sure it's a miraculous plan.
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #11 on Apr 30, 2007, 7:30pm » | |
Lorren grinned at the second, very obvious attempt at charming her. If this Altmer was trying to be discrete, he was certainly not succeding. Then again, she'd never known an Altmer to be discrete about anything that they did unless it was illegal. They liked to show themselves off.
She was slightly disappointed at the fact that he didn't have much to tell her in the way of Ninroot, however. She had to admit that she wasn't all that fond of going searching for a plant that she knew virtually nothing about. She already knew, of course, that the plant lived near water, otherwise she never would have come to this Shadow forsaken town in the first place. She would have just as happily froze to death searching for them in the Jerral mountains rather than take a very long trip to Anvil.
At this thought, she almost groaned, realizing that after she'd finally accomplished her task, she would have another five day or so journey back to Bruma. She was quickly at ease though as a glance at the Altmer reminded her that the Mage's Guild offered teleportation. They owed her after this anyway.
"Well in that case, I suppose I should begin my search. I would hate to think that the Mage's Guild would beat me to the chase in finding anything," she grinned.
She stood, pushing the stool back against the bar where she'd found it. Koeter's head popped up at the sudden movement and he stood as well, panting happily at her. She smiled and petted him, looking back to the mage.
"Thank you, Henende, for your company. It made this trip slightly more enjoyable than it had been. And thank you, Koeter, for being so kind as to share my meal with me. I hardly would have been able to eat it all without your help," she said, looking back down at the dog. She didn't leave right away though, wanting to make sure that there was nothing more that the Altmer wanted to say to her. After all, it would be horribly rude to simply up and leave like that.
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“The thief is sorry he is to be hanged, not that he is a thief.” |
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Shatan
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Karma: 35 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #12 on Jul 1, 2007, 10:59pm » | |
![[image]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v408/Kuroinu/HenedeBar.jpg)
The Altmer grinned back at the Bosmer at her comment; apparently she was as sure as he was that she could find something even as rare as a sample of Nirnroot. Perhaps it was arrogant of her, but arrogance could easily be overlooked by an Altmer; after all, arrogance was a trait many Altmer were born with; they hardly noticed it.
Henende grinned slightly as Koeter jumped up so eagerly at the Bosmer’s movements, and he, too, stood; it would be rude of him to remain sitting instead of standing to see her off. Perhaps he would even walk her to the door; after all, she had been the most pleasant company he had seen in quite a while; most of the Anvil folk were simple sailors who were hardly as interesting or well-mannered as she was, and as far as the company back at the fort, well, there wasn’t much to say there.
He smiled pleasantly as the girl thanked both him and his dog, again proving how well-mannered she was. “Of course, the pleasure was all mine, Lorren; you have been like a breath of fresh air compared to the sailors that I normally see here,” he said, chuckling quietly, “And please, allow me to walk you to the door; it would give me the pleasure of your company for that much longer. Koeter and I should be going anyways; we still have some other business to attend to, so it would be no trouble at all,” he continued, another undisguised and shameless attempt at flattery.
Koeter, who had been enjoying Lorren’s attention, quickly moved to join his master, understanding enough of the Altmer’s words to know that they would be leaving soon. He couldn’t stand to allow Henende to leave without him, so he remained close to the mer’s side and waited, alert, for his master to lead the way back out into the open.
The Altmer looked down at the wolf-dog and grinned slightly; Koeter constantly proved his loyalty and good training at times like these; no ordinary dog would understand so much of what its master said, nor would it jump to stand by its master’s side so quickly without even being asked. He was indeed grateful to have the wolf-dog by his side; Koeter was a fine companion to have.
The necromancer looked back up at the Bosmer girl, waiting patiently for her response to his offer of walking her out. He wondered if she would accept it, of it she had finally had enough of his shameless flattery; it would not be the first time that a girl had tired of his charming, nor would it be the last, he was sure.
((Ack, bad post. I must have killed my muse on those two Shatan posts, lol.))
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Lorren
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Do tell how you expect me to steal this. I'm sure it's a miraculous plan.
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Karma: 40 | | Re: A Day in Anvil
« Reply #13 on Jul 2, 2007, 1:36am » | |
((Yes, but how much do I love you for posting? A lot!))
Lorren expected a short farewell from the Altmer, having him send her on her way so that he could return to his paper in peace. She should have known better though, for what she got was more shameless flattery as Henende offered to walk her to the door. Lorren chuckled and shook her head slightly.
"I wish that I was a breath of fresh air down here. Perhaps I'd be less apt to sneezing so often," she said, giving Koeter a pat on the head as he jumped up. "But I would be honored if you two fine gentlemen would accompany me out of here. The sooner I can get out of Anvil, the better." She made her way to the door, turning back to wave at Cidius. "Thank you for the fruit. It was fantastic, and one-hundred percent salt-free."
Cidius grinned. "Not a problem, lass. Feel free ta stop by any time yer in need of a stay from the sea, though I hope fer yer sake ya don't have ta come back." Lorren nodded in agreement before turning back to Henende and his fruit-eating dog.
"Thank you guys, once again for making this trip just a bit brighter. Perhaps we'll meet again someday, though I have to say I hope it's somewhere far away from this place. Farewell."
Lorren turned to the door, taking one last huge gulp of salt-free air before gripping the handle tightly and swinging the door open. Hopefully she wouldn't have to travel far to collect her ten samples, and she could be back in the dry coldness of Bruma before long. That in mind, she stepped out onto the dock, thining that perhaps she could make it through without her allergies kicking up. As soon as the thought crossed her, she siezed up, her body going tense for several long seconds before it finally let go as she sneezed. The Bosmer growled as she recovered. This was going to be a very long trip indeed.
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“The thief is sorry he is to be hanged, not that he is a thief.” |
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