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Post by MJOLL THE LIONESS . on Oct 24, 2012 9:56:15 GMT -8
feeding the wolves, don't you know better [/color][/div] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e3233; width:250px; height:450px; padding:10px;padding-top:25px;] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e3233; width:300px; height:450px; padding:0px;]
[style=width:250px; height:40px; font-family: times; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing:3px; background-color:#transparent;]WILL YOU KILL WHAT'S LEFT OF ME TO STOP THE BLEEDING?
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[/div] tagged: open words: [/color] 605[/color][/div] after a long day of essentially patrolling the city of riften, the young lioness was ready to call it a night and head back to the bee and the barb. she figured it would be best or else she would be much too tired to actually fight when the time came. what good would she be, if she wasn't in her best shape? a hindrance, that's all that she would be and that was definitely something that mjoll was not interested in. it was something she took pride in, knowing that she was actually useful and one of the rare women in skyrim who knew how to defend herself if the moment should arise. it was her years on the road that taught her the resourcefulness that she now had in her artillery. honestly, whenever she thought back on her life, she was amazed and almost dumbfounded; so many times her life could have ended early, but she was still here and not afraid to go back out there and learn more about tamriel. her journey through skyrim was almost finished, she could happily say she had managed to sneak into many caves and had been to almost all of the cities, villages and towns. she knew that she would never settle down and that was perfectly fine with her; she enjoyed the life she lived and wasn't ready to be tied down by anyone. if they truly fell for her, they would give up their life here and travel along side her. selfish, perhaps, but mjoll knew what she wanted and she wasn't about to give it up for anyone.
walking into the inn, it was quiet and slow night. not many people about, she could only assume it was because of the fact that today was nothing but down pouring with rain. even now, as mjoll walked into the inn, she was soaking wet from the rain that was still falling outside. honestly, mjoll never let the rain or snow really get to her when it came down to it. it was just a bit of water, what harm could that do? taking off the hood to her cloak, she ran a hand through her hair, finding it surprisingly wet; she had to tell bersi how well it had fared her. she had never seen a cloak stand up against the rain so well. usually it would soak right through and manage to get her hair wet, but not this one, apparently.
taking off the cloak, she walked up the stairs to her room, throwing the dripping wet cloak over the door before she sat upon her bed and started to take off the armor that was covering her body. the only things left was a tunic and a pair of breeches. putting her hair in a braid, she walked back down to the bar, hungry and thirty. immediately, she greeted keerava and ordered a loaf of bread as well as a bottle of mead.
upon getting both, she thanked the argonian and started in on her supper; having not eaten all day, she knew it wouldn't be long until everything was gone.
where she was sitting, she was still on the lookout for any sign of thievery; she knew that the bee and the barb was one of the main places that the guild met with their customers, seeing as the ragged flaggon was much to exclusive. she had tried to get down their once but had been ambushed and run out by those brutes. it was disappointing on her part and she knew that she would be trying again, and succeeding. notes: hurray, i finally got mjoll all done! [/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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Post by LAYLA SHADOWBLADE . on Nov 7, 2012 2:29:34 GMT -8
why promises are snapped in two, and words are made to bend .
Despite telling herself repeatedly that she needed to take things easy for herself and their child, she could not help herself from answering a call in Riften. She was in Whiterun when she’d been found by a courier. She fully intended to go to visit her mother. She was just taking the scenic route. She would make it to the College soon. There was just a minor hagraven problem in the Rift. She would take care of it and be on her way in no time. A couple of hagravens would be easily handled. Even in her current condition, she was confident that she would be able to handle it. In the morning of course, she was not about to drag herself back out of Riften in the middle of the night in pouring rain. It had been a long enough journey to get there both she and the child were worn out not to mention soaked through. After stopping to have a few words with the steward, she quickly her way to the Bee and Barb. She had not been to Riften in far too long. It was much harder to get to this end of Skyrim under the watchful eye of her husband. She rarely asked where he was traveling to, and crossing the country was just asking to run into him at the most inopportune moment. She could not explain away her being in Riften. She supposed that if he were there this time, she would blame her pregnancy addled mind and say that she accidentally told the carriage driver the wrong town and then fell asleep. That was reasonable, at least it would seem so to her. Her pregnancy had seriously affected her memory some days.
She paid her coin for a room, in which she stored her weapons, save for her steel dagger. She pulled out a dry dress from her pack, laying out her armor to dry. She would need it in the morning. Wasting time in an inn was not exactly the kind of situation that required full armor. Though in Riften she could never be completely sure her things were not going to get stolen. That was the trouble with the home of the thieves guild. She paused to braid her wet hair down her back. It would have to suffice for now. She did not frequently pull it back, but it was soaked and hanging about her face and dripping onto her dress was hardly acceptable. It looked far more presentable back that way.
Layla was convinced that their child was a boy. Daughters were said to steal their mother’s beauty, and she did not feel less attractive, a bit more round perhaps, but only slightly. She was definitely giving Taros a son. He would be incredibly pleased. This would be her last hunt until the baby was born. She swore, and she meant it this me. The previous three had been flukes. And she could not refuse to assist the Jarl of Riften, it would have been just rude. She’d intercepted his courier before he’d even made it to her home it was a clear sign from the divines that she was supposed to hunt these Hagravens. After this hunt she would settle in to the role that her husband believed she had. She was hanging up her bow, and she would not touch it again till their child was old enough to be left with a friend for a few days. This was it, the last fight. Then she would return to her life as Layla Shadowblade, wife and future mother, settling in to a normal lifestyle without witches, vampires, or any other dark creatures. Being with Taros and their son would be more than enough to make her happy. She was certain.
She headed back down the stairs and purchased some bread from the inn keeper. For a moment she debated on sitting at one of the tables off in the corner. She was unfamiliar with any of the patrons of the inn. But so many of her days were spent alone in Solitude. She was in Riften where everyone was likely to be a thief. It was somewhat exciting. Her husband was not there to watch over her shoulder. She smiled as she pictured the little disapproving lines that appeared between his eyebrows whenever she spoke of doing something foolish. Somedays she felt bad for her husband. He spent far too much time worrying about her. She was fine and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was only four months gone in her pregnancy, he would have plenty of time to dote on her after she finished this one last hunt. And after she made friends with someone who was probably a thief.
She approached the woman sitting at the table cautiously. While she may not have been a thief for certain, she was intimidating, even without any armor. This was who she would make friends with. “May I join you?” She asked, hoping that the other woman did not turn her away. She would hate to be bored the rest of the evening. Making friends with the fierce looking woman was sure to provide the entertainment that she so desired.
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word count - 880 . tag - mjoll . outfit . [/style][/style] |
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Post by MJOLL THE LIONESS . on Nov 7, 2012 22:28:25 GMT -8
feeding the wolves, don't you know better [/color][/div] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e3233; width:250px; height:450px; padding:10px;padding-top:25px;] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e3233; width:300px; height:450px; padding:0px;]
[style=width:250px; height:40px; font-family: times; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing:3px; background-color:#transparent;]WILL YOU KILL WHAT'S LEFT OF ME TO STOP THE BLEEDING?
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[/div] tagged: open words: [/color] 523[/color][/div] her time in riften had been much needed. after her near death experience in the dwarven ruins, she figured she needed to stay stationary for a while. and now, thanks to hospitality of aerin along with a few other people in the city, mjoll felt as though this was perfect place to take the time off. however, even though she wasn't adventuring didn't mean she wasn't keeping herself busy. after aerin had explained to her the predicament that was going on in riften concerning the thieves guild, mjoll strictly took it upon herself to rid the city of such vermin. they were almost as bad as the skeevers that plagued their home and mjoll wanted them gone. no one in the city deserved what the thieves guild brought to them and it was obvious that everyone - excluding maven black-briar- wanted them gone. so, why not do a friendly service? she owed aerin much more than that anyways, after he saved her life and everything. she had yet to come to ask him as to why he was hanging around the ruin in the first place, but she was too busy recovering to ask and had soon forgot to even do so.
after being in riften for a while, she realized that if she stayed in the bee and the barb, she would manage to hear a few things her and there about the guild. however, obviously it wasn't enough to catch them in the act, but at least she was trying. so, sitting in the inn, drinking her mead and making sure that she wasn't being conspicuous, she tried to find some solid evidence that would link the guild to any of the major crimes that had been going on lately. she knew it would be harder than just going up to the jarl and arresting the members, seeing as almost all of the guards were very well paid off, but mjoll had to try. there wasn't anything that she had willingly given up on in her life, especially after her parent's murder and the destruction of her village. she knew that she came off intimidating and that was how she liked it, but she knew deep down that she was good and friendly person, if she didn't get a bad vibe from the person she meets.
just as she was about to take another sip of her mead, she noticed a woman walking straight towards her table before asking to sit down in the chair across from her her. out of instinct, mjoll put her hand on the hilt of her dagger that she held in her belt before she realized that the woman was obviously pregnant. nodding, mjoll gestured towards the chair, "take a seat." she said, her nordish accent showing through predominantly. she gave the woman another glance over before speaking once more, "i haven't seen you in riften before. what's your business?" she asked, her tone casual and nonthreatning. she could tell just by the look of the woman that she meant no harm. and, even if she did, mjoll figured she could easily defend herself against a pregnant woman. notes: it's short, i'm sorry. ): [/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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Post by LAYLA SHADOWBLADE . on Nov 11, 2012 22:58:04 GMT -8
why promises are snapped in two, and words are made to bend .
The woman at the table sized her up. Layla knew the expression well. It was one that she had frequently worn herself. She did not blame the woman. Riften was the sort of town in which one should always size up whomever was speaking to them. Even if they were a pregnant altmer woman. Layla was not a warrior, that much was true. She never had been. Her better tactics had always been stealth and magic. On brute force alone the woman would obviously dominate. As a nord, Layla’s first choice of destruction magic, the frost spell, would be unwise. She’d have to go with fire, or perhaps abandon destruction all together and settle on a calming spell. Magic was a wonderful thing like that. She was certain she could cast a strong enough sell to affect a woman, even one as strong as the woman she now sat across from. But then, Layla had always been overconfident in all of her abilities. Having a child may have negatively affected her strength and her stamina, but her willpower and the high altmer regard in which she held herself were completely unhindered.
Her business was her own. That was her natural response, but it was better said while wearing a hooded cloak and full armor. It sounded far less intimidating coming from Layla the pregnant civilian than it would have Layla the witchhunter. The woman she used to be was becoming more volatile with each day, to the point of haunting her vocabulary. She tore at the bread she had brought to the table. “I have not been in the Rift in at least a year.” She answered as to why the woman had not seen her before. ”I’m an enchanter, by trade, and an apothecary when I am needed to be. I’m here in Riften on business with Wylandriah.” The court wizard of Riften was known for her forgetful tendencies. She had been in Riften for a long tenure. Her mother had thought it was important for Layla to memorize all the court wizards. It was difficult as they frequently changed, but the bosmer of Riften was stable for the most part.
”My name is Layla. Layla Shadowblade. Formerly of the College of Winterhold, currently of Solitude.” Despite saying that she was formerly of the college, she hardly considered it true. The College had been her birthplace, and her childhood home, but it had never been the path she would have chosen. To say she was formerly of the forests, roads, ruins, and caves of Skyrim was far more accurate. She would rather be defined by her witch hunting than her magic. But, to admit that she was a former witch hunter was too much. And she refused for one moment to believe that she could not have both her family and the hunt. She just needed to learn balance. That was all. If she balanced things appropriately. ”I’ve heard that Riften had a large thieves guild presence? Is it something I should be concerned about? We hear rumors in Solitude, but so much of what we hear about the other holds is just gossip.” She was certain they were true. Riften just felt like a tough town to live in honestly. Thieving was an easy fix to a monetary problem for some people. Layla could not imagine ever being that desperate. She was thankful that her husband did very well as a merchant. She had no desire to raise her son to be a pickpocket.
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word count - 601 . tag - mjoll . sorry it's lame . [/style][/style] |
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sig by charlie!