A Conjuror's journey

"Well, I appreciate the sentiment." You reply, patting the girl on the head. "Back to what I was saying earlier though, those creatures down there were most definitely not Orcs."

Turning to look over her shoulder at you with one eye, she complains, "I really don't think this is the time for a lesson!"

With a chuckle, you pat her hair again, making her growl and turn back to watching the crowd. Smart. "Of course it is, there is always more to be learned, we cannot allow the threat of death to interrupt our pursuit of knowledge." You explain, much to the confusion of the restless crowd. "Other than the green skin and sharp teeth, those brutes are not very similar to Orcs at all." Addressing one of the guardsmen, you ask, "What about you, young man? How would you describe the beasts?"

Looking between themselves, one of the men shrugs and shouts out, "They're trolls, not much to be said really."

Shaking your head you sigh. "No, trolls are much smaller and covered in fur. While they might regenerate like a troll, they are still far too large and humanoid... not to mention the third eye... forget I asked." You say, growing rather frustrated with this world's inconsistencies. They can't even use common terms amongst themselves. "The point is, Orcs are an entirely different type of being."

By this point, the group surrounding you two have settled on keeping watch, seemingly hesitant to initiate combat with someone such as yourself. "Orsimer, commonly referred to as Orcs, are a green skinned race of elves that believe in proving one's worth through skill, courage, and martial prowess. Living in remote strongholds, the Orcs follow a set of laws known as the Code of Malacath... a code of honor that requires code-breakers to pay in blood or gold and all grievances against a family are recorded diligently. Once upon a time, they were similar to other elves, until the day that the Daedric Prince of deceit devoured their patron god, changing them forever."

"Wait! Their GOD was EATEN?!" Louise asks in alarm. "I... what? How is that even possible?"

Ignoring the confused whispers of the soldiers, you answer, "Ah, that requires a lesson about the difference between Et'Ada... different types of gods. Remember your lessons about the creation of Mundus?" Without waiting for a reply, you continue. "Well the Daedric Princes were among those gods who refused to participate, maintaining their purely Padomaic nature... essentially, they are unable to be permanently destroyed or stopped. The Aedra are the gods that, in creating Mundus, were forever changed... In assisting the great Lorkhan in creating mortality, they lost their immortal nature. Of course, this is according to elven religion, but considering that they have had fewer generations since the Dawn era and most Tamrielic religions tell similar tales... well, you get the idea. Many Et'ada became part of the world of Nirn, others became permanent fixtures in the night sky, and still others bred together to form many of the creatures and people that inhabit Nirn..." Looking around at the enthralled crowd, you remember the point of this explanation. "To answer your question, gods are incomprehensible beings and the best description available to us is that he was swallowed by another god, but instead of being destroyed, Trinimac was transformed into a Daedric Prince and his followers into Orsimer."

"So... I'm confused. What does all this mean exactly?" One of the guardsmen shouts out.

"It mea-" Your words are cut off as one of the Ogre-orc-trolls climbs out of the mineshaft, roaring in anger. That was probably what the men were waiting for, you realize. "Right, one moment." Casting Fury on each beast as it emerges, you lift up your apprentice and begin to levitate. "Anyway, It is not impossible that you might meet an Orc or another race with an unusual appearance, so I would prefer if you could keep an open mind and not ostracize associate potential allies by associating them with mindless monsters." You say as you carry fly away from the sound of screaming and breaking bones.

"I guess... but that doesn't mean I have to trust them." Your apprentice says as you pass between clouds of smoke from the smithies. Speeding low over the city, you drop toward the ground as a group in the street fires their weapons at you. Holding the girl tight to your chest with your good arm, you roll into a sprint and ignore the pain in your shoulder. You've had worse, this only feels like a broken shoulder blade. Continuing your sprint through the middle layers of the city, you break down the door to a house and exit through the back.

Noticing the blood seeping through your robes, Louise's muffled voice reaches your ears. "Let me down, Your injured! I can run on my own." Stopping in an alleyway on the border of the middle and outer zones of the city, you set the girl down and rest, leaning against the wall with heavy breath. As your apprentice makes a fuss about your wound, you ponder your options and listen to the soldiers search the area.

Status: Bleeding, disabled arm
Magicka: (500/650)

Choose 1:
[] Ignore the wound for now, you can deal with it once you escape.

[] Heal yourself.


Choose 1:
[] continue fleeing on foot.

[] Flee via levitation.

[] Enough running, everything dies!

[] Write in.
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A/N: This city has been producing firearms and you guys didn't take the potential volley's of musketfire into account. RNG gave you a 67, so you received a serious but non-lifethreatening injury. RNGs will never be an insta-kill unless you guys do something obviously suicidal. 75-100 would have been unharmed, 50-75 was a temporarily what you got, 25-50 was multiple serious wounds and deadly if unattended, 0-25 would have meant losing a limb.

Chugging down your only health potion to make the girl quit her incessant worrying, you feel the bone fragments in your shoulder shift back into place before the whole wound seals up as if it had never happened. Standing, you creep up to the edge of the street to plan your next move. With no idea how far those muskets can fire, levitation is no longer an option, though escape by flight is still a possibility.

"Stick close to me." You say, scanning the area outside the alley. The search party consists of around thirty men with assorted weapons, though you do spot several muskets within their ranks. A group of three split off from the larger group at each building, ransacking homes and alleyways between in their effort to locate the two of you. You pull Louise behind a stack of crates, whispering instructions while footsteps approach. "Listen carefully. When they get close enough, I need you to slash their throats before they can raise the alarm... do you think you can do that?"

Squeezing the handle of her blade, the girl nods with determination. The sound of boots on stop come ever closer and Louise tenses in anticipation. Preparing yourself, you watch as the first man comes into view and your apprentice leaps through the air. Planting her sword in his neck and feet on his chest, the girl rides him to the floor, pulling the blade out and slashing the nearest man's head off in an arc that ends with her sword flying from her grip into the third man's eye. Standing from the drowning man's torso, she retrieves her weapon from it's fleshy sheath and wipes it clean on the man's tunic as you gape at her effortless display.

Blushing when she notices your staring, she ducks her head and turns toward the mouth of the alley. "Excellent work, my apprentice." You praise, mussing her hair as you pass.

Poking your head from the alleyway, you see the main group of soldiers pass the next block of houses and dash for the other side of the street with Louise following as quickly as her tiny legs will allow. Once safely in the shadows, you remove your robe and force it onto the young woman, pulling the hood over her head and putting your staff into her hand. "Levitate around this height with your feet behind you." You order with a hand held up to the center of your torso as she grumbles in protest at the treatment.

Walking casually down the next street in your glistening chain shirt with Louise appearing to be a hunched and hooded figure, the two of you head toward the docks. Ignoring the few others that pass by on their rush to get home, you manage to avoid suspicion all the way until the stretch of empty land on the road between the city and the buildings near the river. With no other option but to attract attention, you grab hold of Louise and retrieve your staff. A nearby guard, probably assuming this to be a robbery or something, draws his sword and approaches the two of you at a swift pace.

Ignoring the man, you twirl the staff in the direction of the river and speed off with your feet barely leaving the ground. Arriving at your destination a few moments later, you are immediately noticed by a group of nobles. With a half dozen mages in view and you don't doubt that there are more enemies nearby, you spot a ship beginning to lift off from the water as a horn blasts from the city behind you.

Status: Healthy
Magicka: (500/650)
Choose 1:
[] Ignore the locals and Levitate to the ship.

[] Attempt to kill the mages before flying to the ship.

[] Flee by foot toward the Northern forest.

[] Stand your ground and fight, surely the two of you can take them all.

[] Write in.