|  Author | Topic: That which binds us (Read 116 times) |
Akkar
Hero-in-Training
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Posts: 54
Karma: 1 |  | That which binds us
« Thread Started on Apr 12, 2007, 6:58pm » | |
Akkar fell to the ground, feeling woozy. Teleportation as a means of transport was useful, but the effects it left behind were not so. He shook his head to clear it, a few strands of hair coming lose in the movement. He slid them back into place with an absent stroke of his hand.
Finally, it seemed, he was in Chorrol. He searched about his surroundings to work out where he stood – it was just under the town’s symbol, the Great Oak. Moonlight shone beams through the tree’s foliage, casting eerie lights around the Breton. He ran his hand through the almost solidified luminescence, watching as it gave a new colouration to his skin.
He slipped out from the darkness, resting beside a lamp post. Judging by the soft flickering emanating from inside most of the dwellings, the hour was certainly late. Few people roamed the streets at this time, and fewer were on strictly legal endeavours. But the guards still wandered about, and so Akkar kept to the lit path. The path itself was not particularly long though, he had merely to walk for a few seconds before coming to the entrance of the Fighter’s Guild.
After meeting crazy ladies with huge cats, battling Daedra-worshippers and coming face-to-face with a Dremora, meeting more crazy people, being teleported across Cyrodiil and reuniting with a former friend, he was here. All in all, it had been a fairly productive day. He smiled to himself, granting a new confidence as he pushed the door to the Fighter’s Guild ajar.
The atmosphere of this place could not be more different to the guild he had just came from. Low torch brackets gave long shadows to the room’s contents, bathing them in a dark yellow glow. Seedy travellers gave grim glances to the newcomer, looking back to their weapons with a pained slowness. There were fewer members here than in the Mages’ guild – from the looks of things, most people would have been scared off.
Akkar made a quick dash to the Porter to state his business. He was a man in his later years, adorned in slightly worn steel. The man always had a cheery mood, which tended to distract him from his duties. He looked down at the Breton with an absent air, a smile of recognition coming over him as he saw the face that looked up at him.
“Akkar!”
“Hello, sir.”
“It’s been some time, lad! Hahah, you joining the Guild, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“Ah, that’s right. Did you want a contract? We’ve got a few here...”
“Can’t. Fighters’ Guild rules, you know.”
“Ahh, right right right. Well, what can I do for you while you’re here?”
“First off, I need this sword to be straightened. See the bend here? A bit of sharpening wouldn’t go astray, either.”
“Of course, of course!”
Aaron slid the weapon from its sheath, passing over a few septims with it. He spoke up when the Porter started to walk off.
“One more thing.”
“Mmm?” he said, spinning back to face Akkar.
“Is Locke around? I need to see him.”
“Ahh, he’s left on an adventure! Or so he says. Should be back fairly soon though.”
Aaron’s heart sank. ‘Soon’ could be any length of time by the Porter’s use of the word, and it was with a disappointed clench of his jaw that he leant against the wall, bending a leg against it to balance himself. Waiting was not one of his stronger points. With a fidgety twitch of his hand, Akkar pulled the crinckes from out underneath his vest, the tightness of which had become a great irritation. He pondered on giving it to the Porter to adjust.
The door swung open again, and Akkar leant forwards to see who entered.
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Mogrimm/Locke
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« Reply #1 on Apr 12, 2007, 8:39pm » | |
Locke wore a scowl on his face as he kicked in the door of the fighters guild, the mission had been successful, but he had lost the use of some things he valued highly. One such item being his trusty spear that had been in so many battles with him. The shaft had broken in two during a battle and the wood, being very rare was a great loss.
Locke threw his rucksack to the ground and looked at his spear, with an almost sad expression on his face. He broke off the spear head and tossed the the broken shaft somewhere in the shadows. It would be awhile before he came across a spear that he liked as much as that one, the fact that Locke cherished his weapons had definitely made it worse.
"Porter? What are you doing at this hour?" said Locke, referring to the man's position as a reminder of what his duty was. However, it seemed he was busy with the request of another individual.
Locke's eyes widened a bit at seeing the young man standing before him, he had always been fond of him, but he never expected Akkar to show up again, based solely on any shame he might experience. Nevertheless, Locke put on the same rough demeanor that was associated with his position and stared blankly at Akkar.
"You."
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Akkar
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« Reply #2 on Apr 12, 2007, 9:04pm » | |
Aaron did his best to hide the feeling of glee that swept through him. It had been a long time since they had last met, and in that time, much had transpired.
It was before the Crisis that Akkar joined the Guild under that name, and though he never truly quit along the official lines, he was no longer considered a real member of the guild, mainly due to the rash way that he left. He quickly pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the man who stood in front of him now.
“Locke. It’s been a while.”
He kept the tone neutral, unsure of how to ask what he wanted. The man was unreadable. He tried to gauge the Imperial’s feelings towards him, what would be running through his mind at this point, but delay would be worse than speaking out of turn. So, he got straight to the point.
“I need your assistance.”
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Mogrimm/Locke
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« Reply #3 on Apr 12, 2007, 9:17pm » | |
What sourness he had gained from the loss of his spear was quickly replaced by interest by the Breton's sudden appearance. Locke stretched out and cracked his neck, all the while grinning at Akkar. He was truly pleased to see the man, but at the same time, he was carefully calculating the man's actions. From what he understood of his character, he was never one to ask favors, so this must be of importance. However, Locke's willingness to help so many people had created the image of him neglecting his guild as of late. That was far from the truth, and his men would never voice these opinions, but those who sought his position of power most definitely would.
Locke remained queit until the porter returned to inquire if Locke had any items that needed repair. Locke responded by tossing his shield at the man before he could finish the question. The silence continued, mainly due to the sluggish way Locke's mind was responding to his thoughts, the man was most definitely tired.
Finally he looked to Akkar and responded with a grinning nod of approval. He could never deny the man what he needed, once a fighter, always a fighter, no matter how one may have left.
"So lad, you hungry?" said Locke, stifling a yawn
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Akkar
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« Reply #4 on Apr 12, 2007, 9:39pm » | |
Aaron was nearly knocked over with the force that the apple was flung at him. Locke was a powerful man, and sometimes tended to forget it. He grasped it with his shield arm, which slipped out from under the loose shirt, revealing the skin underneath. He hurried to hide it; he did not want to burden Locke with the knowledge of how the injury had come to be. Eager to avert the inquisitive glance, he continued on.
“It’s about my father- and my brother. They were killed during the Crisis, after I left here.” He took a bite into the apple, bits of spittle coming out as he talked. “Or so I thought. I’ve heard things, about others who were supposedly slain. Rumours have gotten around that the Daedra prefer to capture, rather than kill.” He stopped, gripping the apple more tightly.
“Since then, I’ve been looking for them. I’ve been getting closer – I’m nearer now than I’ve ever been…”
He trailed off, hand unconsciously passing over a small bulge in his pocket.
“But I need some help. What I must do next cannot be done alone.”
The Breton took another bite into the apple, and threw it away. He looked over at Locke, trying to see how he was taking this, but the Imperial was as unreadable as ever.
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Mogrimm/Locke
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« Reply #5 on Apr 12, 2007, 10:03pm » | |
Locke ignored the scaring on Akkar's arm, that was a question for another time. Instead, he diverted his attention on the large hunk of bread and piece of cheese he was consuming to fill a protesting stomach. He had not been eating well, during his adventures, his mind to preoccupied with the task. But now that he had a few moments of relaxation, to discuss matters with an old friend, he took the opportunity to enjoy his food.
"Aye, from what I know of them, they will capture, depending on the lord of course." Locke paused "They're interested in us mortals, that much is true."
Locke took another enormous bite of his the loaf he held clenched in his large fist and grinned with satisfaction. Bread was always good for a hungry person, especially one who had been traveling through the dangers he had faced.
Although, he still unknowingly ate with speed, but that was based off of a curiosity as to what the Breton man needed of him. It was in Locke's nature to help, to not help would be to dishonor himself and insult those who sought it. But it was also an old friend who sought his aid, and to that, Locke would never refuse assistance.
"So lad, what would you have me do?"
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Akkar
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« Reply #6 on Apr 12, 2007, 10:15pm » | |
Akkar closed his eyes to block out the voices that screamed at him to stop, to not ask this of Locke. But it had to be done. Months of searching and adventuring had led to this moment.
He opened his eyes and reached into his pocket, drawing out the object within. It was a red stone, the light of which burned between his fingers. A dark energy pulsed from the gem, twirling in the light.
Akkar looked back at the Master, hating himself for what he was about to say. He squeezed the Sigil stone tighter.
"Help me get into Oblivion."
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Mogrimm/Locke
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« Reply #7 on Apr 13, 2007, 5:36pm » | |
Locke was quite taken aback by Akkar's request. Had he been eating upon hearing the man's words, he would have surely choked. A bad thing to happen to the Master of the Fighter's Guild.
Locke shook his head in wonderment, he had always thought the Breton as an 'ambitious lad' but not an irrational one. He pushed his plate forward, hitting a cup in the process. The contents splashed out onto the table and wet the food slightly. It was only water, not a waste.
Watching what liquid had splashed out of the cup pool close to his hand, Locke responded, still somewhat lost in thought,
"Have you lost your mind lad?"
What he said should have possessed more conviction, but in all honesty, Locke didn't feel a man like Akkar would actually attempt something of this magnitude without having an extremely good reason. Without waiting for an answer, Locke spoke once more,
"So what do you need of me?"
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Akkar
Hero-in-Training
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« Reply #8 on May 5, 2007, 11:19pm » | |
(( Christ on a bike, it’s taken me almost a month to respond… saaaawrreeeeeeeeeeee…… ^^; ))
Aaron let out a sigh. He was thankful for Locke’s will to help an old comrade, and smiled at the big Imperial.
“This stone is a key. I need to get to the door.”
He stopped, letting the words sink in. He had not yet answered Locke’s question, and so continued on.
“Word on the street says you’ve been with some… funny types”, emphasising the word with a slight squint. “Word off the streets warns of a new breed of Daedra – possessed mortals, claiming to host the essence of the Princes. If all is true, then an opportunity grows near. What I mean to say is... you may know just as much as I do about what I’m getting myself into.”
He brought himself forward, sitting across from Locke. “Come with me to Bruma. The outskirts still hold the highest concentration of Daedric magic anywhere in Nirn.”
“Once I’m there, I leave for Oblivion. I ask that you assist me.” The words were bit out; he hated having to ask for help like this. He was able to survive on his own, but had to accept that he stood no chance against the Daedra. He noted, too, a fear in his words – he was scared of that place. The realisation cut into him, and his gaze faltered. Bringing his concentration about, he focused himself once more. The road was now set, but he knew the path deviated at every pace, like the slipping rocks of a cliff face. Now, it narrowed – a false move and he’d be hurtling towards death. He’d need all the help he could get to find his family.
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