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Loyalty or No SV you Are the Daedra

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Daedra are clumsy
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    • "Why Morlia, you're the blood god of course." You tell her with all the eager cheer of a child at Christmas. "Don't you want to harvest the magic inherent in the lifeblood of your foes?" You gesture to the eviscerated spiders with your sword. You absorb the blood you're coated in, might be useful later. Morlia backs away up the stairs towards the sunlight face pale a scared.

    "F-Fast, what are you..."

    "Maybe that is more Diana's thing." You muse before sheathing your sword. "I'm kidding, of course." Morlia relaxes a fraction, stopping her retreat at the top of the stairs down. "I still insist I'm totally not crazy, but insanity is much easier to explain than references to a tabletop game from back home." It certainly is, even starting with a little explanation might be too much but you've put your foot in it now. May as well continue.

    "So all that was a badly thought out joke?" Morlia asks, her voice wavering on the precarious edge of absolute fury the likes of which hell hath not. Her hands are fisted at her sides, bunches of fabric from her dress tufting between white knuckles. Her ears twitch a little with each word.

    "Er... yes?" You need to stop her before she gets started. "Look, don't worry Khorne's not real." Morlia's hands unclench, leaving rumples in her dress. "We think." Morlia's face flushes tomato red in rage.

    "Fast you are unbelievable!" If she's trying to rival you for pure, shrill volume then she's certainly going about it the right way. She might even surpass you, in which case there shall be hugs all round and probably something to soothe a terribly sore elven throat.

    While she yells you look around the cellar, making appropriate contrite murmurs when Morlia pauses for breath. Generally 'I'm sorry Morlia' and 'of course you don't look like a blood god' or 'yes master, it won't happen again'.

    You do come across several spider egg-sack-things, all broken and empty. There are many more than the five spiders you just fought. At a guess there are probably enough to have hatched as many as twenty five of the things. With a shudder you poke around further back, in the darkest corners between wine racks, barrels and what looks like a makeshift alchemy laboratory.

    There are tightly woven, lumpy, malformed balls of spider silk. A couple of them have paws sticking out of them, stiff and cold. It's easy to guess what happened. Hopefully these are just rats or stray animals rather than a towns-person's beloved pet.

    You rake your eyes... eye-slits over the floor. Morlia seems to be tailing off and you can't see anything more of interest down here. A pity there's not anything more to tell you how the disgusting creatures got in here in the first place. You turn to leave and collect your reward and one of the various spikes on your armour catch on the wine rack beside you.

    There's an unearthly screech and you feel a sudden, brief tug on your shoulder.

    CRASH

    The wine rack hits the floor and shatters. Shards of glass fly across the cellar floor on a tide of ruby liquid. The unmistakeable fruity scent of good, aged wine hits you.

    Morlia stops ranting and stares at the shallow puddle around your feet, aghast. You bring you palm into contact with your helm. Today is not your lucky day. Even more so than usual.

    "Great, just perfect." Morlia stamps her foot and lets out a less than dignified yell of distilled frustration with life the universe and everything. "Why does this have to happen to me?" She adds in an undertone you don't think she intended for your ears.

    "It could be worse." You offer weakly. Morlia just covers her face in her hands.

    "Just.... Just wait outside. I'll go speak with Druja and try to explain what...."

    "What have those little beasts done...." Druja, attracted by the crash it seems arrives. Scaled head popping over Morlia's shoulder and seeing everything. The five dead spiders, the scamp splashing its feet in the puddle and you standing, guilty as hell in the middle of the destruction.

    "My collection...." Druja whispers, the frills each side of her head wilting in distress. "All those septims...."

    "I-I am so sorry for...." Morlia starts but Druja doesn't let her finish.

    "It's not your fault, those bloody spiders!" Druja sighs and shakes her head. "If I'd taken up Sulinus' offer they would have been gone before this could happen."

    "B-but...." Morlia, caught entirely flat footed by the assumption that this was the fault of the spiders, mouths silently like a gold fish for several long moments.

    "No matter now," Druja draws herself up stiffly, the frill either side of her face standing again but only to half-mast, and reaches for a largish pouch at her belt. She counts out several coins and thrusts them at Morlia. "Here, your bounty, now be off with you."

    Morlia stands, stunned. You hurry to rescue her, grabbing her scamp and stuffing it under one arm before manhandling her off Druja's property.

    Right, now that's out of the way time to alliterate like never before!

    [ ] Talk to Morlia (write in what say)

    [ ] Alliteration? Alliteration! (Write in alliterations for the contest)

    [ ] Anything else you wanna do? You have a little time to kill before the competition starts.

    Wow that search check... like wow, my usual luck with the dice has infected those for this quest. No one shall be spared the terror of the dice gods! No One!
     
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    • [X] Alliteration then investigate this Sulinus. You only know a couple of names so its as good a place to start as anyone.
     
    Verminlord said:
    You are mistaken, I am the only sane being within this body. It is clear to me now that you will never fully trust me. I will simply try to finish this quest and return to Jyggalag. He is unaware.
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    First, it's hard to trust you when you use invisible text, and second it's not that I don't trust you. I know that all you're trying to do is accomplish your goal as a deadra of Jyggalag. However, I also know that if Jyggalag ever comes back to claim you, that means my death, and I like being alive.
     
    [X] Add the following to your alliterative arsenal, to be used as Fast sees fit, alongside the fruits of his own labours:
    -[X]Go downstairs to meet with Freya, opening with "Ah, Fair Freya! A fine figure of the female form- But Fast's fickle flattery will fox you not, I fear. For Freya has come to find if fate will favour her fight with fast for fame and fortune, yes?
    -[X] Many men might mock, mistakenly marking my moxious mien madness. Foolish fops who fail to fathom funny!
    -[X] (To audience) Arachnid assailants are approaching an all-encompassing affliction, and are attributed with an ample array of attacks. Creep-crawly creatures that corrupt the caves and cellars of our congenial city, catching and crucifying our cats. Any and all assistance to our assiduous agents of authority to allow them to apprehend and arrest the asinine arsehole answerable for these atrocities would be abundantly appreciated.
     
    [X] Talk to Morlia (write in what say)
    -[X] "You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people! What say you in your defense?" "Sorry, flashback. Or was that a flashforward?"
    --[X] "I have the cutest tsundere companion! ♫Morlia♫ give Fast lots of praise and head-pats so he can grow big and strong!"
    [X] Alliteration? Alliteration! (Write in alliterations for the contest)
    -[X] A slick saucy sentinel sojourns shortly. See said sentry sally summarily, since scary summons sculpt seas of splendorous sonorous stanzas, stimulating and soaking spectators salubriously, sans sentence-snapping stipples.
    [X] Anything else you wanna do? You have a little time to kill before the competition starts.
    [X] Bring forth the holy Diana, and hug her for luck, and just because she's Diana. Do the same for Morlia. They're the reasons you try to do your best everyday! Mind the spikes! If you pit Diana's fire-roasted marshmallow-ness against Morlia's cute flowery cactus persona, what would happen? Bring them in for a group-hug. Do it for science.
     
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    As a not so subtle attempt to make Freyja want to join us.

    [X] Alliteration? Alliteration! (Write in alliterations for the contest)
    -[X] Can conspicuously cooperating cohorts convince captains to correct certifiably catastrophic cancellations come closing-time?
    -[X] Does dutiful discipline demand dropping daring dreams?
    -[X] All aspiring alliterists are allowed adventurous as an activity.
    -[X] Fortune frees folk frequently for fate favors the frivolous. Fare Freyja, face the future with frivolous friends forthwith, for freedom calls!
     
    [X] "Look Morlia, we get you must be pissed and annoyed and angry and all those non-beneficial descriptive terms, but we can't help it! You try having your own head stuffed with a dozen of voices not always in agreement, woman -though most agree on Diana being a huggable cute little thing! The point is, we're still your ever-reliable defective Knight of Order, yours truly! Besides, if we didn't lighten up the mood a bit, who would? It just happens we simply act like Daedra on drugs and make bizarre references no one can really understand here, but you know we can be serious! Like... once a month. It's our quota, you know."

    [X] Add the following to your alliterative arsenal, to be used as Fast sees fit, alongside the fruits of his own labours:
    -[X]Go downstairs to meet with Freya, opening with "Ah, Fair Freya! A fine figure of the female form- But Fast's fickle flattery will fox you not, I fear. For Freya has come to find if fate will favour her fight with fast for fame and fortune, yes?
    -[X] Many men might mock, mistakenly marking my moxious mien madness. Foolish fops who fail to fathom funny!
    -[X] (To audience) Arachnid assailants are approaching an all-encompassing affliction, and are attributed with an ample array of attacks. Creep-crawly creatures that corrupt the caves and cellars of our congenial city, catching and crucifying our cats. Any and all assistance to our assiduous agents of authority to allow them to apprehend and arrest the asinine arsehole answerable for these atrocities would be abundantly appreciated.

    We still have to actually sell our loot, now that I think about it :rofl: The quest to selling our ever-present shitty loot. Will the players able to go without random events long enough to empty the inventory?
     
    Convening Contests
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    • The silence is deafening on the way back to the inn, made worse by all the conversations you catch snatches of down the main road of Skingrad. People haggling over the price of vegetables. A young couple loudly proclaiming how deeply they're in love despite their parent's feud. A Khajiit purring through a negotiation with a tiny wood elf for a sparkling golden ring.

    All of it reminds you that Morlia is stalking silently ahead of you, arms crossed and shoulders hunched up to her ears. To say she didn't take being dragged from the house well would be an understatement. You have to broach this silence somehow, lest one silly reference undo a whole week of hard work getting on Morlia's good side.

    "Look Morlia," you start contritely, "we get you must be pissed and annoyed and angry and all those non-beneficial descriptive terms, but we can't help it!" You really can't, sometimes all it takes is one silly comment to start a landslide of 'bad decisions' though you seem to have avoided those so far. Much to your relief. Morlia makes a humphing sound but at least she's listening.

    "You try having your own head stuffed with a dozen of voices not always in agreement, woman -though most agree on Diana being a huggable cute little thing!" You get another humph for your troubles. "The point is, we're still your ever-reliable defective Knight of Order, yours truly!"

    "You're certainly defective." You almost miss Morlia's dry comment she says it so quietly. You'd smile if you could, talking is good! Talking is progress and progress is good.

    "Besides, if we didn't lighten up the mood a bit, who would? It just happens we act like Daedra on drugs and make bizarre references no one can really understand, but you know we can be serious!" Morlia shakes her head, pony-tail swinging from side to side jauntily, with something like a laugh.

    "Like... once a month. It's our quota, you know." You finish with the levity for now. "I really am sorry for scaring you back there." You finish and carefully, quickly wrap your arms around her. She freezes for a second, stiff as a board, before hesitantly curling one of her arms around yours.

    "I'll forgive you, just this once." Morlia slowly leans her head against your breastplate to look up at your helm, searching for something on your blank faceplate. "Don't do it again."

    "I can't promise anything, but I'll try to keep it in mind." You tell her seriously. She smiles a bit sadly and steps out of your hug.

    "Shouldn't we hurry, if you want to be on time for your ridiculous competition?" She says shortly and starts briskly down the street again. You agree, loudly, and jog after her.

    You get to the inn with time to spare. There is only one option for how to spend this time. Check to see if Diana's awake yet. So naturally you pound up the stairs to the rooms in a crash and jangle of crystal rubbing against crystal. You push open the door to Diana's room. There's a roughly Diana shaped huddle under the covers making the odd whimper.

    "Diana," you pitch your voice low to hopefully not agitate what has to be the queen of all headaches.

    "G'way... dying." Diana mumbles through the layers of thick wool covering her.

    "Do you want something to drink? Nothing strong, I hear keeping hydrated helps." You offer, barely whispering. It produces quite the melodic chiming sort of noise rather than the grating you're more used to.

    "Yeah... thanks." Diana scrunches further into her covers. You leave quietly and head to the bar, informing Morlia along the way. The barkeep sees you coming and has a cup on the counter-top before you reach him.

    "For your friend, best hangover cure in town." The man tells you. "And would you have anything to do with the sudden popularity of my humble establishment?" Looking around there are far more people in here than before, drinking mostly but a fair number are eating too. Must have been a good amount of profit made from them.

    "Me and Freyja, that competition we mentioned earlier." You answer. "I might have done a little advertising this afternoon."

    "Thank you then, best day I'm probably gonna have all year." You nod a little awkwardly and take the hangover cure, hopefully something closer to an actual potion rather than some hair-of-the-dog cocktail. Cup in hand you climb back up to Diana's room and enter as silently as you can.

    "Hey, got your drink." You set the cup down on the bedside table. "Innkeeper swears it's the best hangover cure in the city."

    "Thanks again Fast." Diana peeps over her covers, hair mussed and rather wild.

    "If you feel better me and Morlia will be downstairs. Doing some kickass alliteration if you feel up to it." She nods and gropes for the cup on the side table. She sips, grimaces and curls back into the covers almost at once.

    You head back down to the bar, which is growing more crowded by the moment. If Freyja doesn't arrive soon there might just be a riot and won't be entirely your fault. There's a space in the centre of the room, cleared of tables and chairs. Morlia, looking about as un-amused as ever, is standing in one corner of that space. You join her.

    "Lose and I'm disowning you." She informs you frankly.

    "Like I'd let down my liege-lady by losing." You scoff, more confident than you actually feel. Now you're standing here you realise you have very little in the way of an actual plan. Nor have you really considered rules of any kind. Oh well, you'll just wing it. That usually works well enough.

    "You'll need to do better than that."

    You're about to reply when the steadily chatting crowd falls silent. You could hear a pin drop in the silence. Naturally Freyja walks through the parting crowd, the local undisputed champion of alliteration. She's not in her guard armour, just a simple tunic and trousers that have seen better days. Still ahead of much of what the people in here with you are wearing.

    "Ready?" She asks, grinning widely as she steps into the empty space.

    "Ah, Fair Freya! A fine figure of the female form- But Fast's fickle flattery will fox you not, I fear. For Freya has come to find if fate will favour her fight with fast for fame and fortune, yes?" You start how you mean to continue with more alliteration than the sane can follow easily. Hopefully the early assault with throw her and winning will be easier.

    "Doubtless dubious daedra." She answers, still grinning. "However hurried harrying hardly has a history of honourable heroism. Otherwise oratory of ostentatious ornamentation obviously obtains outstanding outcomes." Well... there goes the overwhelm her early plan. She can give as good as she gets with apparent ease.

    "Arachnid assailants are approaching an all-encompassing affliction, and are attributed with an ample array of attacks. Creep-crawly creatures that corrupt the caves and cellars of our congenial city, catching and crucifying our cats. Any and all assistance to our assiduous agents of authority to allow them to apprehend and arrest the asinine arsehole answerable for these atrocities would be abundantly appreciated." You turn to the audience a little, may as well get two birds with one stone while you have a captive audience. You return your gaze to Freyja and bow a little in a invitation for her retaliation.

    She cracks her knuckles and grabs a pint from a nearby audience member to wet her mouth quickly.

    You exchange volleys of sentences, barely pausing for breath. You think you got in some good ones, especially the thinly veiled invitations for her to join your little group of adventurers which do throw her off stride, but she has her own salvoes that capable answer. You particularly enjoyed one focussed on vampires. You almost wonder if she knows the count's secret but it's probably just that many creatures live around this area of Cyrodiil.

    All too soon though it's over, you run dry of ideas, using your last shot. "A slick saucy sentinel sojourns shortly. See said sentry sally summarily, since scary summons sculpt seas of splendiferous sonorous stanzas, stimulating and soaking spectators salubriously, sans sentence-snapping stipples." If Freyja can answer this then she deserves whatever the winnings are.

    Freyja takes a breath and pauses. Her pause becomes a hesitation. Then a damning silence. You're almost sure that she's just lost. "Sheogorath sends salutations swimming sweetly to Skingrad's stoic souls striving so stupendous silence spreads and strengthens from Sullinus' sibilant susurrations of summoning."

    A shiver runs down your proverbial spine and cold, writhing worry pools in your equally proverbial gut. Morlia's face is suddenly pale, eyes wide and worried. Freyja blinks, confused and raises her fingers to her lips.

    "What was that?" She asks into the creeping silence over the inn.

    [ ] What do?

    I am never promising an alliteration competition again. Ever. My time got eaten and I wussed out. I am so sorry :( I might revisit the competition later in an extra at some point but I'm too tired right now to create something suitably awesome line by line. Alternately you guys can give it a shot if you like ;) Suffer as I have suffered fellow writers!
     
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    • Kyrina said:
    I am never promising an alliteration competition again. Ever. My time got eaten and I wussed out. I am so sorry :( I might revisit the competition later in an extra at some point but I'm too tired right now to create something suitably awesome line by line. Alternately you guys can give it a shot if you like ;) Suffer as I have suffered fellow writers!
    Click to expand...
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    I'm glad you suffered. It makes it all the sweeter.
    Also crap Sheogorath interrupt.
    [X] Accuse her of cheating by getting a Daedric prince to posses her.
     
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