Fire On The Mountain (A Skyrim Quest)

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Do'azda's Character Sheet
Name: Do'azda Khrimnin
Race: Khajiit (Suthay-Raht)
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Profession: Shaman
Appearance/Description: She stands at a normal height for a Suthay-raht, that is to say, shorter than most men or mer, but not by too much. Her fur is a warm, rich orange, paler around her muzzle and down her neck, and her eyes are startlingly yellow. Her hair is braided, with rings that jangle faintly when she turns her head too fast. Her robes are basic, and worn from age, but have been fastidiously cleaned.
Level: 7
XP: 0/120

Alchemy: 25
Alteration: 5
Archery: 5
Block: 6
Conjuration: 40
Destruction: 5
Enchanting: 5
Heavy Armor: 5
Illusion: 35
Light Armor: 20
Lock Picking: 1
One-Handed: 21
Pickpocket: 5
Restoration: 15
Smithing: 1
Sneak: 20
Speech: 27
Survival: 13
Two-Handed: 5

They say it kills cats - Do'azda has few restraints on her inquisitive nature, asking whatever questions occur to her, paying little attention to whether this may be considered rude. Whatever else, at least Do'azda never finds herself regretting her failure to ask about something.

Dancing the night away - Do'azda is a fine dancer in the Elsweyr style, where dances are not the slow, ritualised partnering of the Altmer, but instead are a whirling piece of performance art, with the dancer's emotions informing the dance more than any practiced steps. Do'azda can feel the music in her bones, and can dance to only a drumbeat.

In the shadow of the moon - Do'azda was blessed even as she began her journey to become a shaman. A priestess of Azurah, the Mistress of Dusk and Dawn, favoured daughter of Fadomai, received a vision. Azurah's light shines favourable upon her.

Tangled Tails--Do'azda has had flings before, "Tangled Tails" as the euphemism goes, and she's willing to engage in casual relationships or 'one-night marriages' if the opportunity arises.

Racial Perks--

Claws--She has very wicked claws indeed.
Darksight--She can see incredibly well in the dark.

Skill Perks--

Conjuring Efficiency (10): Do'zada knows how to be careful with her Magicka without losing any power when she's Conjuring, and can use such magic more freely and easier when fighting or in other circumstances. (Cojuration)

Mystic Binding (20): Do'azda gains skill at creating bound weapons of magic, so that she is never without her arms no matter what. She also becomes more skilled at creating bound objects of all types, and begins to study that which might allow one to bind a soul into a gem. (Conjuration)

Haggling 1 (0): Everything in Skyrim is far more expensive, and so Do'azda should probably try to figure out how to make do with what little gold she has. (Speech)

Insight (20): One of the key elements of persuasion is knowing what would convince someone. Do'azda now knows how to evaluate what kinds of arguments and reasoning would convince different people if she spends enough time to get a feeling for how they think. (Speech)

Agile Defender (10): Armor is often hard to get used to, so figuring out how to move with light armor so as to reduce how bad a hit is is something you can only learn by doing… and Do'azda has begun to 'do.' (Light Armour)

Rahjin Perks

Laughter-Silvered Wings (Level 5): A flying companion does not simply owe its speed to its physical form, but the strength of its spirit, and so it tends to be faster and more manuverable than its terrestrial version, harder to hit, and a greater predator of the sky.

(Next at Level 8)

Blur - Do'azda knows a spell to obscure her features at a distance, to render her indistinguishable from another Khajiit. Up close, it is almost pathetically ineffective, however.
Clairvoyance - Do'azda is granted flashes of insight into the path to her goal by Azurah - the Goddess of Dawn and Dusk sees much of the land.
Conjure Animal - Do'azda reaches onto Hircine's hunting ground and recalls the imprint of an animal which perished nearby to fight by her side
Conjure Axe - Do'azda can create a hatchet from pure magic. It is too cumbersome for effective use in combat, but for cutting wood, it is more than adequate
Bound Dagger--As she has learned how to better summon such things, she has figured out how to use a Bound Dagger.
Courage - Do'azda uses magic to inspire in another the will to fight, though currently only to instill confidence in victory, not to cause conflict where none exists.
Summon Familiar - Do'azda reaches into her own soul to bring forth her familiar, the falcon Rajhin. No mere shade, Rajhin remains with her until slain and can do far more than just fight, but cannot be summoned for a day and a night thereafter if killed.
Fear - This spell pulls from the mind a fear that the target has, and creates from this the feeling of fear.
Distraction - Creates sounds and sights on the edge of perception. Sights and sounds determined by the caster.
Healing Wounds - The caster uses their magicka to seal the wounds of the target. All healing occurs in a single burst.
Conjure Flame Atronach - Do'azda can call forth a spirit of Infernace, a being of fire, constrained in a form of iron.
Flames - Do'azda can release a gout of fire from her palm, directly setting alight her foe, though only for so long as she feeds magicka to the fire.
Lesser Ward - Do'azda can use her magic to create a shield of magical energy, blocking low level magical attacks, reducing high level magical attacks and mitigating the damage of physical attacks.

Do'azda can make...

Potion of Minor Healing - Bruises fade, cuts close, aching muscles relax, this potion provides a little relief from injuries. The first potion a young shaman will learn to brew.
Potion of Suppress Disease - A potion which will suppress the symptoms of a disease for several days; oftentimes long enough for the body to get the cold or flu from its system. More serious or outright magical diseases will return with a vengeance once the potion's effects wear out, but it is a useful potion to know how to craft.

FUS - Force
WULD - Whirlwind

FUS DAH--Force Push


Gold Septim (365)
Trail Rations (x4)
Fine Rations
A very nice dress for casual-formal occasions.
A lovely dress in the gothic style, with an enchantment of illusory power woven into it.
Iron Axe--An iron axe of low quality.
Steel Axe - A steel axe of decent quality
Iron Dagger--An iron dagger of mediocre quality.
Mage Robes--Increase magical regeneration, but provides little protection, discouraging getting up close and personal.
Leather Armor--Comfortable, lightweight armor, it counteracts the discouragement from getting up close, though as an extra layer it means it can get extra hot.
Lunar Steel War Axe--An Axe which can, in the light of the moon, drink in the life-force of its victims and use it to restore that of its weilder.
Steel Dagger (x2)--A well-worn but very useful steel dagger.
Alchemical Kit--A very fine kit for the creation of potions. One careful owner.
Stormcloak Token--A token from Ulfric Stormcloak himself...
Underclothes--You know.
One Powerful Enchanted Sword (Rusted)--A sword of unknown value, it has a rather potent and interesting enchantment attached to it.

Spell Tome: Illumination--A spell tome is a sort of book that can fully teach you a new spell, but it is destroyed in the process. For such a minor spell it is probably only a few hours of reading to fully learn. This allows Do'azda to create a light in the darkness... less useful for a Khajiit, but still a spell of value.
Spell Tome: Thieves Vision--A spell tome is a sort of book that can fully teach you a new spell, but it is destroyed in the process. For such a minor spell, it is probably only a few hours of reading to fully learn. This simple spell gives one slightly better night vision… but is also notable for being able to see writing hidden by weak illusions, and thus is commonly used by thieves trying to read the secret messages of other thieves.
Spell Tome: Turn Undead--A spell tome is a sort of book that can fully teach you a new spell, but it is destroyed in the process. A spell of moderate difficulty, it will take several nights of reading to learn it. A spell technically of the "Restoration" school, which puts fear into nearby undead. When cast powerfully, burns them most terribly.
Spell Tome: Sparks--A spell tome is a sort of book that can fully teach you a new spell, but it is destroyed in the process. For such a minor spell, it is probably only a few hours of reading to fully learn. Allows a mage to fire sparks of arcane lightning, sapping the magicka reserves of the target whilst also burning through their flesh.
3 Doses of Frostbite Venom in Magicka bottles--Toxic and acidic to living flesh, it has little effect on the glass bottle.
Healing Potion

Troll Fat, other ingredients
100 Septims
3 gems of good quality.
Troll Hide
Troll Skull
Troll Eyes x3
Troll Claws

A Handy Guide to Lockpicks: A book that should teach Do'azda all she wants to know about Lockpicks, and more. Each read will give +1 to Lockpicking, and it can be read thrice to wring out all possible knowledge from it. (2/3 reads remaining)
Journal of a Potema Loyalist: A journal of some historical merit, belonging to one of Potema's most loyal supporters in her early years.
 
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[X] Plan: Path of Least Resistance
-[X] He can scout ahead, and hopefully they won't notice him flying overhead, or at least think nothing of it.
-[X] Use Conjure Animal in most fights to try to even up any odds.
-[X] Rely on the dagger. Even if Do'azda is not skilled by mercenary standards she can fight.
-[X] Avoid combat or try for ambushes where possible by trying to sneak up on enemies.
 
The Cast
Character List

Lucan Valerius: The Imperial owner of the Riverwood Trader, he lives with his sister…

Camilla Valerius: The sister of Lucan Valerius, Camilla is a savvy negotiator, who yearns for adventure. Has come to an agreement with the khajiit caravans.

Liesl: A Nord girl with pretty eyes and a ribbon in her hair. She danced with Do'azda, and they spent the night together upon Do'azda's return to Riverwood.

Anise: A nord alchemist and witch, she lives in the woods outside Riverwood, driven out after making a dark potion for someone who misliked its results.

Faendal: A bosmer huntsman, he works for Gerdur at the mill. Do'azda's actions have exposed his malfeasance and destroyed his relationship with Camilla, causing him and his friends to greatly dislike her.

Sven: A nord bard, he performs at the Sleeping Giant inn, and lives with his mother, Hilde. Do'azda's actions have exposed his malfeasance and destroyed his relationship with Camilla, causing him and his friends to greatly dislike her.

Ka'hasa: A suthay-raht and mother to several children. Her husband is a trapper, and is oft away for long months.

Sha'ki: A Cathay-raht, she lives next to Ka'hasa. They argued at length after Ka'hasa's traps hurt Sha'ki's dog. Her wife seems to have run off and left her a number of years ago.

K'qanar: An Ohmes-raht wholesaler who provides a legitimate interface between Whiterun and the Khajiit of Little Elsweyr.

Atani: An apothecary in Little Elsweyr, with ties to the skooma trade, and a firm grasp on the placebo effect.

Bari: A cathay hunter in her middle years, Bari has taken three younger hunters under her wing…

Sinir: A Tojay-raht hunter, he's young and brash.

Nahrazad: A confident Al'fiq hunter, she uses destruction magic to hunt.

Ra'zaym: An arrogant Ohmes-raht hunter, he has a high opinion of his own skills.

J'darr: A skooma addict. A cathay man with silver-grey hair.

Lakaabi: A short suthay, with dun fur marked with white and black stripes. A merchant, she has ambitions to create a traders' consortium, with some help from the bank.

Dro'bariq: An old cathay, he told Do'azda what happened to the old shaman.

Dar'ohila: A prostitute, beaten by Sinmir's men.

K'dasi: A skooma dealer, they are the nominal head of Whiterun's Khajiit organised criminals. Their fur is almost pure white, and their eyes a piercing blue.

Drasiva: The madam of Little Elsweyr's prostitutes, an elderly cathay-raht woman who has aged without grace.

Tsani: A young ohmes-raht with silvery-fur. Her father was flogged after the previous shaman snitched to the jarl about his smuggling ring, which she has now taken over.

Dahlima: A slight cathay mercenary, he has black fur, with a torn ear and a greying muzzle. Often mocking, and in a way which tends to the cruel. One of the leaders of Little Elsweyr's thriving mercenary community.

Hizala: A squat, broad cathay, with one eye lost in a fight in the distant past, but he's an amenable enough cat. One of the leaders of Little Elsweyr's thriving mercenary community.

Soahin: A young khajiit mercenary, Soahlin fights with a shield and sword. She has reunited with her friend Marash-ji, and they are currently staying at the Lunar Forge.

Marash-ji: A young Khajiit mercenary with reddish-brown fur, he was captured by bandits at the Lunar Forge. They tested their attempts to create Lunar Weapons on him, but he has had his revenge. He now is staying with Soahlin at the Lunar Forge. Fights using a mace.

Naamah: Marash-ji's landlady, short and soft from age and almost plump with bulging eyes and trimmed-down claws. Cares for her tenant's wellbeing, after a fashion.

Daro'kir: A sickly, emaciated cathay, Daro'kir is stricken with Rattles, which burns through her entire community of homeless khajiit.

Anusi: A young suthay, slender but with tired eyes, she is terribly jaded about the future, for a cat younger than Do'azda herself. A member of the "layabouts" without any steady income.

Jotiska: A young khajiit who works occasionally for Tsani, but mostly finds himself following Anusi into whatsoever she does. A member of the "layabouts" without any steady income, though recently he has seen an upturn in his fortune thanks to the changing of the guard.

Hustasarr: A young khajiit, willing to do odd jobs now and again, but fatalistically accepting of his inability to escape his circumstances. A member of the "layabouts" without any steady income, though he has recently started doing work for Do'azda visiting the old Khajiit in their mutual home.

Ketesh: A driven young khajiit who works himself ragged to scarcely break even, his fur thins in clumps and his eyes burn as though with a fever, Ketesh's life took a blow when it became more difficult still for him and his like to get work in Whiterun proper.

Bhisbarri: A large young khajiit who like Ketesh survives on chaining together day work or hours of this or that errand, clumsy but well-mannered, he humbled himself to beg for Do'azda to find him work, until he was chastised by…

Talhiah: A short suthay with angry orange eyes and rich dark brown fur who is often seen with Ketesh and Bhisbarri, Talhiah has little left but her pride, and that will not countenance forcing the shaman to serve as a go-between for her.

Shav'si One-eye: An elderly tojay with only a single eye. Very good at Scratch.

Dro'hani: An ancient cathay, his mind has begun to slip.

Adhassa: Younger than the others, but still old, Adhassa minds Shav'si, Dro'hani and several others, and provides food for those who are bed-bound.

Zabhrri: An old and upbeat khajiit, despite her obvious struggles with staying out of Skyrim's weather, Zabhrri is determined to put on a brave face.

Tsrira: An old khajiit, bound to the house by the cold weather, she bakes honeycakes and things of that nature to cope with the isolation.

Zan'arr: A cathay-raht priest of Riddle'thar. Doesn't get on well with Do'azda. Has a chip on his shoulder.

Elahin: A pahmar priestess of Khenarthi. Believes the nord priestess Danica to be a heretic, and like Do'azda for supposedly calling her such.

Mezha'dro: A scrawny cathay priest of Azurah. Resents Do'azda for the goddess's love.

Marashi: An older cathay, Mayor of Little Elsweyr (Kreenya Khajiiti). Grey furred, in expensive - if outdated - Khajiiti garb.

Runji: An ohmes-raht tax collector working for the Jarl of Whiterun to collect the taxes of Little Elsweyr. Considers himself a lighter touch when compared with potential nord tax collectors. Dresses in austere nord clothing.

Kasan: A tojay who works as liason between Little Elsweyr and the Whiterun guard.

Vignar Grey-Mane: A Stormcloak partisan and a powerful noble within Whiterun. His family was responsible for the appointment of Sinmir, a Stormcloak-sympathising mercenary captain as captain of the guard.

Olfrid Battle-born: An Imperial loyalist and a powerful noble within Whiterun. His family opposed the appointment of Sinmir, a Stormcloak-sympathising mercenary captain as captain of the guard.

Priestess Danica: A Nord priestess of Khenarthi, she acts as a healer and priestess both. Fearful for the future of the Gildergleam, a tree holy to Khenarthi in Whiterun.

Acolyte Jenssen: A Nord acolyte of the Temple of Kynareth.

Bjorn: A Thane of Whiterun. Drinks whilst he hunts.

Eisir: A Thane of Whiterun. Drinks whilst he hunts.

Tolfroor Far-Arm: A Nord Merchant, purveyor of alchemical ingredients of rather poor quality.

Nirundil Oakgrass: A kindly Bosmer butcher, willing to trade with the khajiit outside the walls.

Annabeth: A… well-meaning Imperial girl, she has a great many romance books in her shop, which almost no one wishes to buy.

Brand-jah: An Argonian tavern-keep and cook.

Sinmir: A former Captain of the Guard in Whiterun, he was removed in part through the efforts of Do'azda, though hopefully he doesn't know that… Do'azda has never met him.

Stalkes-Dark-Paths: An Argonian criminal, leader of the Argonian underworld in Whiterun, and former lieutenant of Bathes-in-Steel. He hates dunmer for the death of his brother in Arnesia.

Evola Raveri: The leader of the Dunmer underworld, he believes himself to be the most sophisticated and intellectual of the various criminal bosses. Holds a number of vulgar racist (and sexist) beliefs. Dresses like a Dunmer noble.

Kalina: One of Evola Raveri's subordinates. A tall dunmer woman in leathers, with a bow and dagger. Extremely cool even when insulted.

Adosi Telvan: Self-described as being a courtesan of some repute, she works for Evola Raveri, and is paid by Vilkas of the Companions to spend time with him, thrice weekly.

Sigard: A bank manager at the primary bank of White Run, he is deeply unconcerned with the plight of Khajiit and denied the merchants a loan. Do'azda hates him.

Volmir: An altmer shopkeeper and purveyor of spellbooks and artifacts. Dubiously legal business practices.

Jarl Balgruuf: Jarl of Whiterun Hold, a nord in his middle years. Maintains an uneasy balance of power betwixt the clans, hoping to further centralise Whiterun through defanging the clans, in time. He presided over Do'azda's trial, and split the difference.

Proventus Avenicci: An imperial man, middle aged and running somewhat to fat. Serves Jarl Balgruuf as steward, and can serve as legal representation. One of the Jarl's primary advisors.

Moric of Kynesgrove: A Legionary Priest of Stendarr, Moric is a nord who served in the Imperial Legion as Priest of Stendarr,and who ran a spirited and very skilled defense of Do'azda, and won her gratitude.

Soreld: A nord nobleman, if only barely, Soreld hails from Windhelm, and serves in Whiterun as a legal representative to those who would see the clans become more dominant. Stood as Do'azda's accuser in her trial.

Torvald: A nord farmer in his mid thirty. Testified against Do'azda for the charge of smuggling. Most likely a skooma addict.

Larwulf: A member of the Whiterun Guard. He testified regarding Do'azda's comings and goings in the city.

Tsri-hai: An argonian dayworker, she testified regarding Do'azda travelling between the argonian and dunmer neighbourhoods.

Harrald: A member of the Whiterun Guard. He testified against Do'azda regarding her curiosity regarding Sinmir.

Irileth: Huscarl to the Jarl, a dunmer warrior of great skill, she fought alongside Do'azda against the dragon, and she identified Do'azda as the Dragonborn before the Jarl and his court.

Shasin: An illusionist, show woman and caravan leader, Shasin performs shows when the caravan arrives in new settlements, to rapt crowds. A tawny Suthay with green eyes.

Omdul: A more background member of the caravan's leadership, Omdul handles certain business and diplomatic issues for the caravan. His fur is greying around his muzzle.

Ri'saad: A Khajiit merchant, empowered to negotiate for the whole caravan. Currently in Riverwood to negotiate with the Valerius siblings.

Ma'randru-jo: Ri'saad's brother, a guard for the caravan. Accompanied Ri'saad to Riverwood.

Wilder Aodhsil - A reachwoman, a witch and Vateshran to the Raven Mothers of Orphan Rock. One of the three members of the coven who were sent to the Eldergleam Sanctuary, and met with Do'azda and Bathes-In-Steel. Flirtatious with Do'azda. Butch.

Gwyna - A reachwoman witch from the coven at Orphan Rock. One of the three members of the coven who were sent to the Eldergleam Sanctuary, and met with Do'azda and Bathes-In-Steel. Flirted with Bathes-In-Steel. Thinks she's funny.

Aislin - A reachwoman witch from the coven at Orphan Rock. One of the three members of the coven who were sent to the Eldergleam Sanctuary, and met with Do'azda and Bathes-In-Steel. Heterosexual.

Ormi - A raven mother of the Orphan Rock coven. She danced with Do'azda at a party.

Bassianius Axius - A fisherman from Ivarstead, though not a successful one. Somewhat condescending.

Klimmek - A nord from Ivarstead, he is in charge of bringing supplies to the herdsmen up in the summer pastures. A veteran of the Great War, which has left its scars.

Fastred - A nord girl in her early 20s. Friends with Klimmek, and daughter of the owner of Fellstar Farm, in Ivarstead.

Gwilin - A bosmer artist who lives in Ivarstead. Skilled at charcoal landscapes, if one asks Klimmek.

Narfi - A nord veteran of the Great War, his mind broken by the experience. Brother of Reyda, who always cared for him until she disappeared. Klimmek keeps an eye on him.

Karita - A nord woman who walks the steps along the Throat of the World. She once sought to be a Greybeard, but now seeks to understand the Voice on her own terms, and stole a Greybeard robe to make this easier.

Carvain - A Cyrodiilic studying the Voice at High Hrothgar, they have little interest in politics, excepting their ironclad assumption that the Empire will win this war. Largely they seem to have attended for the library.

Ingne - A statuesque young nord woman with strawberry blonde hair and pale blue eyes, she is studying at High Hrothgar, hoping to become a Greybeard, for all that it will be undoubtedly difficult.

Quintus - A Cyrodiilic man, studying the Voice at High Hrothgar. Forced out of his rooms by Do'azda's arrival, though she has convinced him this was not her fault.

Ranald - A ginger nord man with an oft-broken nose, studying the Voice at High Hrothgar. Forced out of his rooms by Do'azda's arrival, though she has convinced him this was not her fault.

Katroniah Drothan - A dunmer woman with dark grey skin tinged almost a midnight blue, red eyes and black hair, studying the Voice at High Hrothgar. Forced out of her rooms by Do'azda's arrival, though she did not hold this against her. She seems to like Do'azda.

Zenosephona - An altmer woman studying the Voice at High Hrothgar. Forced out of her rooms by Do'azda's arrival, she did not accept Do'azda's apology. Was tremendously insulted when Do'azda accused her of being Thalmor. They came to some understanding, but Do'azda is unforgiven for taking her rooms.

Rayya - A redguard woman studying at High Hrothgar. Forced out of her rooms by Do'azda's arrival, she takes her cues from Zenosephona.

Jelin - A redguard man studying at High Hrothgar. Forced out of his rooms by Do'azda's arrival, he follows in Zenosephona's wake.

Rumna of Skywatch: An Altmer Alteration Wizard, accused of being a thalmor spy. Do'azda lost track of her in Helgan when the dragon attacked the village.

Hadvar: A nord of the Helgan imperial garrison. Do'azda lost track of him in Helgan when the dragon attacked the village.

General Tullius: Commander of Imperial Forces in Skyrim and the Military Advisor to Jarl Elisif the Fair of Solitude, Do'azda lost track of him in Helgan when the dragon attacked the village.

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm: Leader of the Stormcloak Rebellion, advocate of an independent Skyrim and claimant to the throne of Skyrim. She escaped Helgen with him and received a Stormcloak token from him.

Priestess Aranea Ienith: Last Priestess at the Shrine of Azura Resplendent. A fervent worshipper of Azura, Aranea Ienith is the last of the original refugees who followed Azura's warnings out of Morrowind. Is gifted visions by Azura, which provide her great comfort.

Bathes-in-Steel: The former leader of the Argonian underworld of Whiterun, and the most lethal individual person Do'azda has ever met. Of middling height, with bright feathers like a crown, and a small scar on her nose. She is now traveling as a companion with Do'azda, a powerful battle-mage and a very sweet person when she wants to be. Has a duty which brought her to Skyrim at the behest of the Hist. Cannot be observed by prophecy.

"Smith": A bandit with some limited smithing ability, who made very poor Lunar Weapons. Killed by Marash-ji.

Mirmulnir: A dangerous dragon that attacked Little Elsweyr on the 24th, it was killed with the help of Do'azda and the sacrifice of several guards and mercenaries, including Razirr.

Arvel the Swift: A bandit who stole the golden dragon's claw from the Valerius'. Killed by draugr in the bowels of Bleak Falls Barrow.

Razirr: A cathay mercenary, she trained Do'azda for a short time in how to best use her dagger. A broad-shouldered cathay woman, her hair tied into a loose braid with silver bells woven in, with pale scars etching ridges across her biceps and chest. One of the leaders of Little Elsweyr's thriving mercenary community. Perished in battle against the dragon Mirmulnir.

Hajvarr Ironhand: The bandit-leader of White River Watch, he fell beneath the blades and power of Do'azda and Bathes-In-Steel.
 
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[X] Plan: Path of Least Resistance
-[X] He can scout ahead, and hopefully they won't notice him flying overhead, or at least think nothing of it.
-[X] Use Conjure Animal in most fights to try to even up any odds.
-[X] Rely on the dagger. Even if Do'azda is not skilled by mercenary standards she can fight.
-[X] Avoid combat or try for ambushes where possible by trying to sneak up on enemies.

First thought is best thought for the course of action. Keep it cautious until we can link up with her missing beau, fingers crossed we can get in and out easy peasy. We'll see! Great update you two, and VM, I like the new look, Very Music-y!

She trails off, and then throws the bottle, flicking it up in the air. It spins as it falls, once, then twice, before landing in the mud, standing upright. "Aha! She said! Anusi said she would do it!"

Not even in Skyrim, can one escape the water bottle challenge. Er... Honningbrew challenge. At least these hooligans aren't on the TikTok and toppling off of milk crates. Just balancing on fences... with catlike tread!

If you're a thief, I'm afraid we're a rather poor option, but we've got a few septims, if you'll stay a while…"

My heart... oh, my heart! You two are so cruel to do this. New Quest: Listen to all of Zabhrri's stories and make sure our nonna parishioner dies of contented old age with a proper ceiling and fresh treats in paw's reach! Optional: Enlist those out of work cats to fix up the creaky tenement!

"Good, Sohain was nervous to go alone. She trusts the Shaman is ready?"

Sohain's right! I've heard it was dangerous to go alone, you know?
 
"If Talhiah doesn't want the help, Ketesh will be happy to take up your share. But our greatest trouble is that the work is posted in the city, and so by the time we get there, khajiit are the last to the message boards, and only the very worst is left for us. Ketesh will do it, of course, and he is a good worker! Not one to complain, but he is paid so little for it, he would prefer other work, if he could get it,"
"Perhaps this one could organise someone to do just that?" To take the finest jobs as they appear, and bring them to you, for a cut of the pay? Do'azda muses. "But she does not know anyone in the city who could do that for you, not yet,"
"There are always things to improve, I've found," the Shaman said very carefully. She does not want to pop any feeling of contentment, considering what the situation is. But surely she can do at least a little bit of something."
Commas instead of dots at the end of sentences, missing quotation marks, extra quotation marks.
Sohain is pacing, her tail flicking rather anxiously. When she hears Do'azda, her ears perk up and she hurries over. "Good, Sohain was nervous to go alone. She trusts the Shaman is ready?"
[...]
Then she is ready. It's time for adventure… and hopefully the recovery of Sohain's friend safe and intact.
[] Allow Soahlin to set the tactics.
Sohain or Soahlin should be Soahin, as that was how she was introduced last update and how she is listed among the Dramatis Personae.

[x] Plan: Let the merc work
-[x] He can scout ahead, and hopefully they won't notice him flying overhead, or at least think nothing of it.
-[x] Use Conjure Animal in most fights to try to even up any odds.
-[x] Keep a distance and avoid direct combat in all circumstances.
-[x] Allow Soahin to set the tactics.
 
Vote closed
Scheduled vote count started by The Laurent on Jan 31, 2022 at 2:40 PM, finished with 12 posts and 8 votes.
 
Well that's not worked.


Adhoc vote count started by veteranMortal on Feb 2, 2022 at 9:37 AM, finished with 13 posts and 8 votes.

  • [X] Plan: Path of Least Resistance
    -[X] He can scout ahead, and hopefully they won't notice him flying overhead, or at least think nothing of it.
    -[X] Use Conjure Animal in most fights to try to even up any odds.
    -[X] Rely on the dagger. Even if Do'azda is not skilled by mercenary standards she can fight.
    -[X] Avoid combat or try for ambushes where possible by trying to sneak up on enemies.
    [x] Plan: Let the merc work
    -[X] He can scout ahead, and hopefully they won't notice him flying overhead, or at least think nothing of it.
    -[X] Use Conjure Animal in most fights to try to even up any odds.
    -[x] Keep a distance and avoid direct combat in all circumstances.
    -[x] Allow Soahin to set the tactics.


Better!
 
Silent Moons
Silent Moons

It is surprising just how much of Whiterun there is. Yes, the villages and towns Do'azda passes no doubt have very fine names on a map. But looking at them and riding through it seems evident that they are nothing more than an extension of Whiterun, just far enough to have their own woods and their own fields and farmlands, but still often within sight of the hill upon which the shining city rests.

They do not have horses, and so they are going on foot. This will slow them quite a bit, but Rahjin is flying overhead to notice any ambush, and if they hurry they should be able to make it to where the Lunar Forge supposedly is by nightfall. It will involve a great deal of walking.

But again, Do'azda feels she has to admit that Jarl Balgruuf, whatever else he did, seems to have figured out how to make good roads. She can all but jog down them and it is as smooth as walking across a tiled floor.

Of course, the further out they get the more this begins to degrade. Soahin is not very good company, reserved and nervous as she is, and so Do'azda looks around and absorbs all the sights and sounds, and of course the smells. Where she passes by enclosed fences for sheep and pigs and horses and cows and more, she can smell them like a punch across her snout. The forest too smells of sap and spoor, and she passes them by with a sniff and a quickening pace.

But after a certain point, the village and towns start to taper off, and the wilderness set in faster than expected. These were probably the areas that Ka'hasa's husband frequented with other trappers. The hunters nearby probably didn't go this far out unless there was a real shortage, for these were regions that were kept rich and far away. Forests stretch on and on in one direction, and Do'azda keeps close to Soahin.

"Is the Shaman afraid?" Soahin asks, frowning curiously and looking over at her.

"No. But Do'azda has never gone somewhere with the intent to do violence," she says. "It has always just… happened." She has been thrown around by the winds of the world from place to place in the last week or two, but at no point is she ever seeking out violence as her first resort.

"Perhaps Marash'ji merely got so busy trying to figure out this 'Lunar Forge' that he forgot to come home," Soahin said, in the soothing tones of one telling an obvious lie to a particularly gullible child.

"Soahin does not believe this," Do'azda says, with a shake of her head. She pulls up her hood a little more, and looks up to the sky. She could see through Rahjin's eyes if she truly tries, but she'd rather just wait until he gets back. As it is, they continue onwards.

At last they near their destination, turning a corner off onto a less traveled road.

As they get closer, Do'azda can start to see why it has been ignored for so long. It looks like the ancient ruins of a settlement in the distance, one that rises to particular heights but not as if there is much to recommend it.

The ruin rises dramatically up the mountainside, with great arched wings defending it on two faces - Rahjin can see a pair of tiny figures patrolling each wing, furs pulled tight against the wind, whilst a handful more cluster around a fire tucked against one wall, at the base of the stairs leading further into the camp. On the other side, a stepped bulwark of stone cuts into the stairs, meeting the wall on that face, where it ends in the shattered ruin of a tower.

Soahin tugs at Do'azda's arm. "We should get off the road, unless the shaman wants to make a frontal assault?"

Do'azda can feel herself nodding, but her mind is elsewhere, looking through Rahjin's eyes.

At the top of the steps stands a great forge, glowing with a furious heat in the dusk. A man of middle years was staring at the forge, hunched over. She could not make out any features at all from this height. As Rajhin banks around, Do'azda spies a hut on the outskirts of the camp, half tucked into a copse of woodland, and shielded from view by a boulder.

"Soahin, Rahjin has spotted a way for us to get close to the camp unseen." Do'azda says as she leaves Rahjin's mind. "There is a hut, and beyond it we can make it to the walkways and walls." She considered it. "There might be a way inside: Do'azda did not see Marash'ji, so if he is here--"

And not dead she does not have to add, because they could have killed him and buried him in a shallow grave.

"He is inside," Soahlin says with a certain ferocity.

"He… he has to be here," Soahin adds, after the moment of tension. She sounds far less certain as her hands stray to her belt. "Soahin will follow you. She knows a little about stealth, but not much."

"It does no good to crouch on the balls of one's feet," Do'azda says, repeating wisdom she'd heard. "Not when you're moving. Maybe duck a little, but…"

She shrugs. She's been told a lot about how a thief actually operates, but she also knows that there are things that make less sense, and that the ways of stealth and concealment are something a Shaman knows a little bit of but it is something Do'azda didn't learn enough of… another thing to join the list of things she wishes she'd learned.

"Understood."

It is a strange thing to be sneaking, because if you do it right there's no real indication that you're doing right. If you hear people shouting that means they've noticed you, if you've noticed anything different it's a sign that things are going wrong. Do'azda hunches down just slightly and keeps her hood up as she hurries towards the hut. She steps carefully, avoiding any rocks and stones as she slips into the hut.

There are a few crates and barrels, mostly half-broken, and a few bits of rotten fruit just laying around. There's also a bottle of mead and a few Septims. Do'azda suspects that this is just a place to haul and dump trash, and perhaps one of the bandits came here and drank. The coins? Well, the bottle of mead is unopened, so perhaps the money is for the mead?

Soahin darts over to the Septims and divides them out, pushing two one way and one each other and then taking two of them. "These are yours, Do'azda. We split everything three ways. It is the only fair way: three even ways for three people. Or as close as we can manage"

Do'azda nods, it is fair especially considering the fact that she is no warrior. But she will contribute, and she knows that mercenaries have pride and Shamans have needs as well. She is hardly going to be going out to dungeons across the region to build up coin, but perhaps a little will help her be less of a burden on the community, or even help her give back to it.

She takes the coins and slips them away. "Who gets the mead?" Do'azda asks, with weak humor.

"Neither of us until we're done: alcohol and work like this don't mix," Soahin says with a grin. Paradoxically, she seems now more relaxed than on the road, which Do'azda puts down to being in more usual circumstances for a mercenary.

[+2 Septims]

They're talking very quietly, but they stop talking once they carefully look out on the other side of the hut. The light really is fading fast. Soon it will be dark.

"If we are seen dealing with the bandits by the cookfire, the guards on the walls will shoot us down like dogs." Soahin murmurs nervously. "Perhaps we ought to get up onto the far wall and deal with the patrolling guard there?"

Slipping across in the murky dusk light is not especially difficult - the bandits at the cookfire have gathered in closer, and the guard previously on the wall above them has moved - she guesses he wishes to come down to the cookfire, leaving only the guard patrolling the opposite wall.

Once below the wall, Do'azda stops to take stock. The wall curls in to seal in the platform, some way up the stairs. The platform is the surface of the lower portion of a great stone block - much of it, Do'azda can see, is carved directly from the mountain's face, in bas-relief. A second block rises from the first, black and worn with age. An ancient wooden door is set into it, framed with ancient nord ironwork, blackened with age.

"This one expects Marash'ji will be inside, through that door," Do'azda offers, her voice a muffled whisper. "But she would rather look for another way in. To enter through the front door, to risk the bandits outside at our backs…"

Soahin nods tightly. "We get onto the walls, and see where we stand then? We'll need to get up the stairs first."

The bandits by the fire remain distracted, and Do'azda forges ahead, taking the steps quickly, on silent paws - this is the most exposed they will be, and it pushes her to try to get off the steps before she is seen.

Do'azda collides bodily with the bandit coming down the stairs, knocking him off his feet. He's a slender Breton, his fur armour reeking of sweat and grime.

He gasps, the air driven from his lungs, but before either of them can act, Soahin is in motion. One hand grabs Do'azda, pulling her back, as she draws her sword and slides it home in one smooth motion.

The Breton exhales, uncomprehending. The sword pins him to the ground, and he reaches up, cutting his hands bloody trying to pull the sword from his chest, but within seconds he goes limp, his eyes glazing.

Soahin releases a held breath. "We're lucky he didn't raise the alarm. Tremendously so."

"We do not have the luxury of time any longer." Do'azda replies. "We need to rescue Marash'ji before they find the body."

"Come on, then." Soahin says, turning to cross towards the wall. "No time to dally."

Do'azda spares the body only a glance - the man must've been a mage, she thinks distantly, because he didn't have a sword.

The wall was a curious shape, a semi-circular half-pipe formation that takes Do'azda a moment to parse - the battlements are no such thing, but drainage channels, built to channel some long-gone stream around the settlement.

Do'azda steps gingerly into the drainage channel, her dagger palmed. The guard is standing at the end of the walkway, staring out over the ruined tower, yawning darkly open before him.

He's a Bosmer, with a curved hunting bow on his back, in furs and hide. Do'azda makes her way along the wall towards him, her head low, mindful of her silhouette to the people on ground.

She's almost reached him when Soahin's boot catches on a crack in the stonework with a grating rasp: quiet, but so loud in the silence.

The Bosmer spins, pulling his bow forwards, and Do'azda barrels into him, dagger aloft. He staggers back with a shout, and suddenly they're pitching off the edge, and all Do'azda can think is that its absurd for her to die like this.

She doesn't, of course. They hit the half-collapsed wooden floor of the tower some ten feet down, and his body cushions her - she hears a horrific cracking in his chest, and a hot wetness across her face and hands, which distracts her from the jarring pain from the impact on her arms and knees.

She scrambles backwards, crawling away on the floor as the scent of iron fills her nose. He doesn't rise, hasn't even cried out, and she swallows. She sees her dagger at the end of a tunnel, sticking incongruously from his neck.

"Shaman? Do'azda?" The voice is urgent, and a hand on her shoulder slowly brings her back to reality, as Soahin looks at her, her face earnest. "We need to move, we're fish in a barrel here."

She looks at the body, almost not believing it for a moment. She's disgusted, but there's… she doesn't feel as bad as perhaps one might. It was a desperate moment, and she is alive and he is dead. It could have gone a lot worse, she decides, the thought feeling almost gnarled and twisted.

She peers around, pushing past her thoughts and philosophical worries.

Do'azda can see a ladder behind her, just barely in the gloom. Soahin must've climbed down. The other khajiit presses the hilt of her dagger back into her paw - its wet, and already beginning to dry to the sticky brown of dried blood.

"There's some nice potions here. We'll have to swing back around when we're done," Soahin muses. She hurries over to the ladder and hauls at it, pulling it down so that there's not an easy way to get down. Then she hurries over to Do'azda and pulls her towards a flight of stairs, stone and cracked with age. "There's gotta be a way out of here…"

The lower level is in better shape but dirtier for it, with a cobbled stone floor scattered with little patches of straw and a sack against the wall, one corner gnawed through. An iron portcullis blocks the entrance to the tower, but Do'azda can see a ring on a chain next to it, which she imagines will open it.

Not that she would like it open, judging by the angry shouting of the bandits. She turns away to search the rest of the room.

There's a pile of barrels along the underside of the stairs, and a bag of septims tucked in behind it, which Do'azda passes to Soahin to divide up.

[+10 septims]

"Do'azda? This one has found something?" Soahin says after a long moment of fruitless searching, always waiting for one of the bandits to follow them down into the tower, but it seems they are leary to follow two unknown assailants into a dark enclosed space - Do'azda cannot say she blames them.

Soahin has cleared some of the straw away, revealing a trapdoor sunken into the floor with an iron ring set into the aged wood.

The door rises with a screech which makes Do'azda wince. A ladder goes down into what looks like a cave, lit with torches, but Do'azda doesn't have time to wonder any further as Soahin pushes her gently but insistently onto the ladder.

"They'll be coming shortly, when they get their courage up. Go, go!"

Do'azda descends in a hurry, magic at the ready.

What she sees freezes her blood. The first thing she notices is the male Khajiit, small but with thick, corded muscles. He's dressed in rags and his fur is red-brown, and marked everywhere with burns and cuts, many of them open and weeping. There's a gag in his mouth, and he is tied up with tight rope around his arms and legs and then going over to a pillar in a corner, where it is looped and knotted around so thoroughly that Do'azda resolves immediately to just cut it.

This has to be Marash'ji, but it is not the only thing that draws the eye. There's a large chest in the corner, and a rack of weapons next to a shelf on which there are a few more potions.

The weapons are odd: they're all glowing, though the mace, sword, axe, and dagger on the right are glowing a pure, clean white while there is something yellowish about the glow of the hammer, axe, mace, sword, and dagger on the left. Are those the Lunar weapons? She doesn't have time to consider it, because Soahin is coming down in a hurry and she should probably free Marash'ji as fast as possible. They're going to figure out where the two Khajiit are going if they don't already know, which means they'll just go around the other way.

Marash'ji is far too injured, it seems clear, to be climbing and running around, especially since there is no real easy way out of here. She takes out her dagger. "We are here to save you," she says, as the Khajiit mercenary squirms. She starts with the rope attached to the pillar, sawing through it with her dagger.

By the time she finishes, Soahin is there with her sword. Soahin is very careful and delicate, and takes out a knife to make better and cleaner work of it. It doesn't take but a handful of seconds to free the mercenary's arms and legs, and then Soahin pulls out the rags and cloth over his mouth.

A stream of invectives flows out with the rag as Marash'ji climbs to his feet.

"Boethra take their souls! Most hateful bandits, most evil smith!" Marash'ji spits, leaning on Soahin for support.

"What happened?" Soahin asks, "She did not expect Marash'ji to be so…"

Marash'ji ignores her for a moment, unstopping a potion from the shelf and raising it to his lips. It spills out a little, and Do'azda watches in repulsive fascination as his tongue flicks out, hunting for the droplets caught in his fur.

"The bandits have the forge lit, yes? But they do not yet understand it, cannot yet produce weapons such as these." He gestures to the weapons which glow pearlescent. "They make only these, the sickly ones. The true Lunar weapons are blessed in Azurah's light - they draw the strength from her foes to bind the wounds of the wielder. Fine weapons, weapons khajiit could use to compete with Nord mercenaries for the finest work, to sell for a deal of profit…"

Soahin scowls. "Marash'ji! There is a time for such musings, and it is not now!"

Marash'ji looks down, abashed, and clears his throat. "Yes, well. Their smith is as nothing to the smith of old who forged these weapons - Marash'ji suspects all the same that they were not from aeons past when this forge was built however, but Soahin glowers, so he shall move on. The bandits can forge only these." He gestures to the yellowed weapons decisively. "They provide no aid to the wielder, but their smith claimed they at least could burn the target!"

Marash'ji laughs as he stretches and works to get feeling and flexibility back in his form. It is a bitter sound, sardonic. "He perhaps failed to realise, through his thick smithing gloves, that they burn all who touch them, when the strike lands. Their chief was wroth when he discovered this, oh yes. Marash'ji had just stuck him a mighty blow on the shoulder with his mace, and the bandit brings his greatsword across like so-" Here Marash'ji runs a finger along an angry streak across his chest. "And then he howls! Marash'ji still smiles to recall. A great bear of a Nord, dropping his sword and clutching blistering fingers. Marash'ji would have pressed his advantage, but another bandit caught his head with her fist, and he wakes here, tied to a post like a poorly trained guard dog."

Soahin gasps. "Fool of a cat! You could've been killed, and then what is Soahin to do? Tread the many paths to find you, so she may kill you herself for your folly? Marash'ji is lucky to be alive!"

"Their smith keeps working, Soahin must understand. He would bring more weapons to this storeroom, would test them on Marash'ji. He has not yet fixed his weapons, but some use them anyway, wrapping their hands in thick furs." Marash'ji has been moving as he speaks, stretching and moving with increasing fluidity. As he concludes, he hefts an iron mace from the far corner. "Shall we begin, then? This one has scores to settle."

He doesn't wait for any response before kicking the door open.

An Orsimer woman--a deep sleeper, which hardly seems to suit her for guard duty--jolts awake in her seat opposite the door, but even as she blinks the sleep from her eyes, Marash'ji strides forwards, his mace whips forwards to catch her full in the face. She collapses back into the chair, her head a red ruin. The steel sword across her knees slips onto the cave floor with a dull thud against the dirt.

The passageway has been hewn directly from the mountainside, reinforced with wooden planking and stone columns set into the sides, but Do'azda scarcely has time to think as they hurry, scrambling up the often steep incline, twisting and winding until Do'azda sees a doorway ahead, and behind it, old cracked stonework.

Marash'ji slows, and Do'azda almost collides with him.

"This one expects they will have gathered in their sleeping quarters, through that archway." He murmurs. "What should be our method of attack?"

"Soahin has a shield and is not so beaten as Marash'ji. If she takes the lead, whilst the shaman and Marash'ji stay behind her?" Soahin says, strapping the iron-bound wooden shield she had been carrying on her back to her left arm.

Marash'ji nods. "And what can the shaman do?"

"Do'azda has her spells, she will endeavour to even the odds." Do'azda replies, shaking some feeling into her left hand as she prepares to cast.

"Ahzirr traajijazeri, then." Soahin shouts, drawing her sword. "Victory or retreat!"

Marash'ji snorts a laugh as they rush forwards, weapons drawn.

The bandits sleeping quarters are tremendously cluttered. A fire sputters in a brazier, fed by wood far too green to burn well, a skeever impaled over it, the fur giving off an acrid stench as it smokes. A table in the middle of the room is festooned with tankards, with a little barrel on one edge, a spigot hammered into it. Filthy bedrolls are scattered at random, wherever each bandit has chosen to sleep.

Five bandits stand in a rough semicircle in the middle of the room, but Soahin pivots as she enters, raising her shield to deflect the axe of a sixth bandit as he swings it into the doorway, hoping to catch her unawares. The Imperial staggers backwards as Soahin exploits his open defence to strike him with the pommel of her sword, knocking him almost flat into the ground. Soahin leaves him as Marash'ji moves seamlessly to fight the man.

The remaining five bandits are divided into two groups - a hulking Nord with a striking red beard stands at the centre, a two-handed and double-headed axe held over one shoulder, flanked by a Dunmer woman with two daggers and a cruel smile, and a Redguard man with a glowing yellow mace. Two Argonians stand towards the rear of the chamber with bows held taut.

Soahin sets her shoulders, raises her shield and charges the central man, and Do'azda follows Soahin, twisting her hand as a dark vortex coagulates in her palm.

Ever Hungry Hircine, release a creature from your hunting grounds.

She flares her hand, feeling the magic come far more easily than before. A spectral wolf flickers into being before her, and rushes one of the Argonians, their arrow kissing its back as they release, seconds before its jaws clamp around the bow and it bears them to the ground.

The other archer fires, but Soahin catches the arrow on her shield as she advances. The large Nord man roars with battlefury as he rushes Soahin.

"Skyrim belongs to the Nords!" He bellows, sweeping his axe down. Soahin darts to the side as the blow crashes down, her own sword licking out at his side, but succeeding at little more than scoring a bright line of silvery metal in the well-worn iron of his armour.

The Redguard steps forwards, his hands wrapped up like mittens in leathers, his mace glowing menacingly.

"Little cat, little cat," He says, his voice low and chiding, "You'll be so much easier to rob when you're dead!"

Do'azda doesn't reply, trying to recall her lessons from Razirr.

His arm tenses and his leg slides back, and Do'azda shifts onto the balls of her feet.

The redguard swings his mace, but Do'azda bobs back and to her right, allowing the mace to pass inches in front of her, and then darts in, catching his wrist with her dagger. The dagger skitters harmlessly against his leather bracer, but at the end of the bracer it bites, shallow but painful, leaving a flap of skin from his inner wrist across the muscle of his thumb.

"Bitch!" He curses, turning his arm over to examine the wound.

Before Do'azda can take advantage, an arrow hits her in the chest. It doesn't hurt, not a great deal - a little scratch on the skin over her ribs, but somehow no more than that - but she staggers backwards.

The redguard takes the opportunity to advance towards her, blood dripping from his wrist in a staccato beat, holding his mace gingerly.

The arrow doesn't seem to be killing her imminently, so Do'azda decides to ignore it for the moment.

She can't swing her dagger to her left, not with the arrow in her chest, so when he swings his mace, she grabs it with her left hand.

Fire rips through her veins, but the Redguard yelps in pain too, and she pulls the mace away triumphantly, casting it away. The redguard rushes after his mace, and Do'azda turns to the archer who shot her. The Argonian woman's hands tremble as she drops her bow whilst Do'azda approaches, dagger in hand, her eyes locked on the arrow. She fumbles for her own dagger, a blunt length of iron, which she jabs at Do'azda when she approaches.

Do'azda easily dodges, and uses the moment to pull the arrow out of her chest- it has barely a spot of blood on the tip, but a few other stains - purples and pinks, and Do'azda realises all of a sudden that it must've hit her trail rations.

Praise be to you, Azurah.

She turns back to the Argonian. "This one does not want to kill you. Put the dagger down and-"

"But I want to kill you, cat! You'll make a-a fine rug!" Her voice trembles, but she tries once again to stab Do'azda, and Do'azda ducks the blow, moves inside her guard, reaches for the woman's arm to take her dagger.

Do'azda's left hand wraps around the Argonian's, and she clenches hard, trying to make her drop the dagger. The Argonian's eyes widen, and she snarls, opening her mouth to snap. Rows of sharp white teeth gleam in the torchlight and she snaps at Do'azda's face. Do'azda barely manages to pull out of range, and brings her right hand up to stop the woman lunging again.

The dagger catches Do'azda almost as much by surprise as it does the bandit, when it plunges into the bandit's neck, and she recalls only then that she never dropped it.

The light fades from the bandit's eyes, and she drops, sliding off the dagger. Cold, thin blood coats Do'azda's hand, and she stifles a gag of disgust.

She turns, her hands still held up, almost frozen. Soahin continues to dance around the bandit chief, whilst Marash'ji has finished with his first opponent, the man Soahin knocked back, and is dispatching the redguard Do'azda was fighting. The other archer has had her throat torn out, but the Dunmer is cutting Do'azda's wolf to pieces.

The wolf collapses at last, disappearing in a cloud of fuzzy sparkles, and the Dunmer turns to Soahin, daggers out and ready.

Soahin sees her just in time, twisting to bring her sword up and driving the Dunmer woman back, but that leaves her exposed, and the bandit chief raises his axe for a killing stroke. Do'azda can hardly believe Soahin could move so fast, as she wrenches her shield up, taking the blow directly to the centre - no careful deflection here, the axe smashes full force into the shield, driving Soahin from her feet.

Marash'ji overwhelms the Redguard, sweeping his mace up in a savage uppercut that lifted the man off his feet, and then bounds across the room, blood flicking out from his tail as he ran. Soahin cowers beneath her shield, rolling this way and that to avoid the axe strokes.

Marash'ji's mace blow drives the bandit chief back, denting the iron banding of his chest-piece, whilst as the Dunmer advances to help her friend. But somehow Soahlin knows the state of the battle, and shifts on the floor to have a good angle then thrusts her sword up from the floor, slipping between two pieces of the Dunmer's leather armour. The woman staggers away and collapses into a chair, trying to pry open her armour.

But with Soahin on the floor and her shield hanging limp and broken lengthwise, and Marash'ji unable to dodge without leaving her exposed, the big Nord booms with laughter, talking through ragged breath.

"You cats think you're so clever, darting here and there rather than fighting like true warriors, but eventually you'll be caught out, and some nord will split you with his great axe, get a new rug for his fire!" He growls, readying his greataxe to cut Marash'ji in half.

Then he drops like a puppet with its string cut, in a noisy clattering of iron, his axe landing with a thud. Do'azda smiles feebly from behind him, not having simply watched and waited while all this is happening, while he rants and raves about this bizarre Nordish idea of 'honor' in combat. "He forgot Do'azda was here, she thinks? She was fighting the archer behind- This one just had to push the dagger like so, to… sever the spine, and he-"

Do'azda brings up her lunch, collapsing onto her hands and knees. She came so terribly close to dying, her compatriots came so terribly close to dying…

Soahin rests a hand on her shoulder. "The shaman did well. It will pass. It always passes."

"This one is not yet dead! Shaman, would you take a look?" Marash'ji calls, and Do'azda steels herself. He's stood over the Dunmer, who has unbuttoned her leathers and undershirt both, revealing grey skin smeared with blood. Soahin's sword has slipped between two ribs and into the chest cavity, Do'azda can already tell; the blood foams around the wound, vibrantly red, with a chilling hiss-suck as the Dunmer breathes. She listens for one more second, as if hoping for some change of sound, something to deny what her ears and her brain know. The Dunmer will die within minutes. Do'azda could, if she tries, extend those minutes to just shy of an hour, but it would be a cruelty.

"She's dead." Do'azda replies flatly, once it becomes clear there are to be no miracles. "Her body does not know it yet, but she cannot survive this. In a place of healing, with a claw of healers and a bath of healing solution, perhaps she might survive, but here…"

"A pity." Marash'ji says, his tone even as he sheathes his mace. "There should be three more, outside of these that we've slain."

"This one and Do'azda killed two further whilst outside. Only one remains by Marash'ji's reckoning, then?"

"The smith," Marash'ji breathes. "Oh, Marash'ji hoped for this moment, truly he did."

******

The Breton's corpse is still on the steps, but they don't stop on their way to the top. Marash'ji leads the way, his mace swinging at his hip.

The building atop the steps is built to the ancient nord fashion, but the carvings shock Do'azda.

"These… these are honours to Azurah?" She cannot keep the surprise from her voice. "Perhaps this was built by a chimer, second under Azurah's gaze, as the book supposed?"

"Marash'ji believes so, yes." Marash'ji replies. "He expects this is why the bandits cannot make it work truly - they do not pay her due respect. And their smith is a fool."

They lapse into silence once they enter the building - the entrance to the forge itself is not obvious, and Marash'ji was never brought up here, so he is little help.

It is dark in truth, by the time they stumble upon the forge. The forge itself is large, hewn from the dark stone of the mountain, glowing preternaturally under the moon, surrounded by a channel carved into the rock, but as dry as the other drainage channels in the camp.

"I think I've almost got it, Rolfnar! Give this one to Trasus, see how he does against the damned ca-" The smith cuts off with a strangled gulp as he turns to see them. The iron axe in his hand glows an unappealing off-white, and Do'azda can already tell that the man - a Nord, his hair lank and greasy, with soot marks on his face and arms - has not come close to achieving a true lunar weapon.

Marash'ji crosses the forge in three steps. "This one promised you, foul man, what he would do to you? Does the smith recall?"

The smith whimpers as Marash'ji draws his mace. "Please… Khajiit, I was forced! I didn't mean to-"

The mace comes down, and his words cut off.

With the smith dead, Do'azda can look around more carefully. A book of the man's notes she passes to Marash'ji, but other than that, there is little of value. An iron grating blocks the end of the dry channel, and Do'azda frowns.

"The forge cannot be broken," She reasons. "Marash'ji says the pearlescent weapons in the store room are the true lunar steel, and they are not so old as all that."

Marash'ji nods. "The man was without graces, but that should only have resulted in a failure in totality, not this queer misfire. We had best bring a smith to see the forge, this one thinks. Perhaps they might lend us some insights."

"If this one might direct your attentions to more material matters… The camp is ours. There is loot to be tallied and divided, before we return to the city." Soahin says.

"Marash'ji is not returning to the city. He must explore the forge some more, and no further bandits can be allowed to take up residence."

"Marash'ji is not staying alone! He was almost slain earlier! Soahin will stay with him, the shaman will return to Whiterun, once we have divided the loot. She may collect the bounty to be divided between us and find a smith." Soahin replies. "Soahin has been left behind too many times now, it brings her too much worry."

Khajiit - generally speaking - lack qualms about relieving the dead of their goods, and it is the work of only a further hour by torchlight to bring all valuables to the forge.

Time for Loot!

First… gain 26 more Septims for a total gain of 38. Not bad for an evening's work, when you think about it. Next… there are a total of five Lunar Weapons: two daggers, a sword, an axe, and a mace.

Which one does Do'azda take?

[] One of the daggers.
[] The sword, it'll be good for a real fight.
[] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.
[] The mace is strong, a solid weapon whose dangerous potential has been revealed.

Beyond that, what do they have?

--Five bottles of mead. (1pt each, x5 )
--Several loafs of bread, mostly the kind of brown bread that doesn't sell well (2 pts total)
--A lot of dirty fur 'armor' that isn't really considered armor. If it is cleaned up it might be worth something as winter-ish clothing. (3 pts each, x4 total)
--The Dunmer's leather armor, might need a bit of touching up but solid and probably sellable if need be. (5 pts)
--The Chief's Banded Iron Armor, lightly damaged but both useable and resellable, albeit at a slight discount (7 pts)
--Steel Greataxe, in rather good condition (5 pts)
--Steel Sword, in rather poor condition (3 pts)
--Assorted Iron weapons: Daggers, Axes, Swords, Maces (4 pts each, 5 total 'lots' of it.)
--Rather solid and decently made hunting bows (3 pts each, x3)
--Iron Ingots (Best to keep these with the forge)
--Some additional clothing for men and women, including long underwear (ew) (2 pts each, 2 lots)
--Fur rugs (2 pts each, x2)
--Ragged Bedrolls (in urgent need of washing, preferably in boiling water) (1 pt each, x5)
--Dice and cards (1 pt each, x2)
--A small packet of skooma (5 pts)
–Lunefire Weapons (These should stay here; the smith will want to take a look at what's been tried and how it has failed)

In total, this is quite a haul… albeit one with plenty of things mostly useful for giving to the poor or reselling. Indeed, Do'azda can think of uses for even the meanest of these things considering the cats she now knows.

So, total points are 88. But of course, you're splitting it three-ways. Do'azda, being new and a Shaman, gets very marginally preferential treatment… she gets 30 points worth to spend as opposed to the 29 of the other two.

Put together a loot plan, then! (30 points)


******

TL AN: A mix here, but Vet did the majority including the bulk of the action scenes. I thought up the idea for the loot Points thing, we'll be working with it. The fun thing about this is that we have a version of otherwise unmodded Skyrim in which we fixed the bug that made Lunar Weapons set the enemy on fire instead. Convenient, huh? Now you can potentially make 'real' Lunar Weapons.

VM AN: Argonians have cold blood, isn't that wild? Do'azda was surprised, even though she shouldn't have been. Not to give too much of a glimpse under the hood, but you did very well in the combat here - its about synergy. You could've done substantially worse if you'd picked a combination of Rajhin actions, spells and weapons that didn't complement. There wasn't really an "improvement" from here, though - you could've ended up fighting them more spread out, but Do'azda wouldn't have summoned the wolf, so who knows which is easier, really?
 
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Very cool fight scene! I enjoyed this take on a very standard sort of "Skyrim" encounter, and it's interesting to see how it will effect our protagonist going forwards.

No immediate thoughts on what to take for the moment. I'll have to think on it.
 
Agreed. I feel bad for our poor shaman, but these kinds of situations will be inevitable, if hopefully rare, given her priorities. And this was probably the best it could have gone. Experience wise at least. Things went wrong, but everything turned out well in the end.
Also, Soahin is a badass.

I'm unsure what to take, but narratively, I figure leaving behind stuff that Soahin and Marash'ji could use themselves given they'll be staying for who knows how long.
 
[X] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.

[X] Plan Help the Poor Cats
-[X] 4x Dirty Fur Armor (12 pts)
-[x] The Dunmer's leather armor, might need a bit of touching up but solid and probably sellable if need be. (5 pts)
-[x] 4 x Ragged Bedrolls (in urgent need of washing, preferably in boiling water) (4 points)
-[x] Some additional clothing for men and women, including long underwear (ew) (4 points)
-[x] A small packet of skooma (5 pts)

Get ourselves some basic armor and a real weapon (and a couple changes of clothes). The rest can be doled out to the poorer cats to help them survive the cold and the alchemist to tide over the skooma addicts. Gives us bonus shaman cred.
 
Well, we might want to get something we can sell too, not only give. Would make things easier if Do'azda had some spare septims, just in case.
OTOH that is probably where fur armor will go? With, presumably, leather armor going to Do'azda.
[X] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.
[X] Plan Help the Poor Cats
 
Well, that's a good day's work for sure.
And it doesn't even include the bounty yet, just the pure loot.

Now that Do'azda has learned how profitable killing for money is we might do it more often.
 
I was thinking the fur armor would also go to the poorer cats since they could easily be made into heavy coats or blankets, but if we want to sell something instead maybe getting the bows instead of the furs would give a better return
 
[X] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.

[X] Plan Help the Poor Cats
 
[X] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.
[X] Plan Help the Poor Cats
 
[X] The axe is hefty and she could use more experience with it.

I will continue to be the sole advocate of Kitty-Hulk when we level up. Two-Hander, Heavy Armor. UwU
 
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