Elder scrolls: morbid brotherhood

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by caligari, Jul 11, 2015.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Caius always hated having to be the one to administer a trial, the entire process required to much work; you'd have to kidnap four people in a short amount of time and drag them all to the middle of the swamp in Hjaalmarch trough the divines know what. Kidnapping was always such a drag; if you kill someone it's over in a second, but kidnapping that takes a lot more time and a lot more effort. You have to find them, catch them off guard, knock them out one way or another without killing them and then drag them off without being spotted. So much work, such a small reward.

    The entire process was repeated again and again in Caius his mind as he complained to himself about it silently. At least it was almost over, the young woman on his shoulder was the last one he had to acquire that night. What was her name again? Clara? Clarra? Ciarra! Yes that was it. he questioned to himself as he failed to notice where he was walking and stepped straight in a pile of chaurus dung right outside the door to the abandoned shack. "Oh, bugger me. I fucking hate quagmires."

    As he entered the door his other three victims had already gained consciousness and were pointlessly struggling to free themselves from their binds. The moment they realised he had returned they became silent and still, a wise choice considering the last time they didn't shut up he knocked them all out again.

    Caius moved over to the bed and dropped the limp girl down on top of it before stepping over to the chest right next to it and sitting down waiting for the moment she awoke.
  2. Ciarra was one not native to Skyrim; the raven haired girl heiled from the Imperial Capitol in Cyrodiil and her being in Skyrim was... shoddy.

    A series of events that had, allegedly, lead to her killing a Nord in Bruma. Naturally, she fled the city and went North and found herself in Skyrim. Now, where she was in Skyrim, she wasn't sure. Ciarra had only been here two days before now, and now... wait; where was she!?

    With a start, Ciarra shot up from the bed - a cold sweat visibly lining her brow. The woman took a moment to look about. First she noticed the three kneeling in a row. With sacks over their heads.

    What in Oblivion!?

    Her thoughts were ones of surprise, but the surprise of those three were suddenly overshadowed by the figure she noticed sitting just past the end of the bed. Staring at her.

    "W-who are you!? What is this" her voice was lined with caution, but curiously lacked fear.
  3. It was slightly startling how sudden the woman shot up from her position, usually the individuals in question are a bit dazed from the whole ordeal. Still it didn't matter, awake was awake. "Ah, you're up" Caius began "Allow me to explain the situation we find ourselves in; I am a member of the dark brotherhood and you killed someone we were supposed to kill. Don't get me wrong, it was a good kill, but that's not the point, the point is that we can't simply let everyone steal our kills. So, in order for you to repay the debt you have with us, you must pay for the life you took with another." His hand motioned to the three figures kneeling before them.

    One was an Argonian wearing a set of iron armour, his scales were a sickly green and he had lost one of his fingers. The one in the middle was a Nord, a true beast of a man donning fur. Lastly there was an Orc woman, standing about as big as the Nord and greener than the Argonian.

    Caius got up from the chest and walked over to the three victims, moving behind the Argonian and placing his hands on his shoulder. "First up is Azeel, dockworker over at Windhelm and known thief. Only it has never been proven by the guards." He walked over to the Nord. "Here we have Jorunn, a lowlife bandit. At this point he has spent more of his life in the jails of Skyrim than out of them." The Imperial assassin gave the Nord a little pat on the head, much to his dismay, before walking over to the Orc. The moment he touched her she began struggling and fighting with all she had despite her bound hands and feet. "Feisty one isn't she? Agrash of Narzulbur, blacksmith by trade, but a poor one. Left home while she was young without the permission of her mother or chief. Perhaps not a big crime to you or me, but to the Orcs? Oh my."

    Once done he moved over to the door and leaned against it. "One has a contract out for him or her. Decide who it is and make your kill. If you do, you can leave, if you don't you'll die here."
  4. Ciarra's eyes and face went through a flurry of expressions as the other Imperial explained who he was, who they were, what she'd done and... what needed to happen now.

    The Dark Brotherhood. She couldn't believe it. In Cyrodiil they were legends of the past, but only that. Legends. No one in Cyrodiil believed that any corner of Tamriel could hide any remnants of the Assassins. Obviously, they were wrong.

    When her eyes dropped on the three, tied and growing in panic prisoners, her dark azure eyes fell on the Orc. She hated Orcs. They were so.. that underbite... ugh.

    Slowly, and watching the man leaning against the door with suspiscous eyes, she moved to her feet. Her black leather and steel platted armor making small sounds that coincided with her movements.

    With no more words between them, Ciarra moved towards them - b-lining the Orchestra and kneeling down before her. The woman found herself staring at the sack over her head - entranced by it, seeming - as her right hand moved over her shoulder and tightened a hold over the Holt over her iron shortsword.

    The Orc must've heard the sound of Ciarra drawing the blade, because she began to struggle more. Strrugled to the point that the rope that bound her wrists suddenly snapped, and a big, green arm rose and swung in Ciarra's direction. Without another moment wasted, Ciarra spun the sword so it stood verticle - middling, it found the Orc's forearm, and between the arms speed and the momentum of the sword spin, the only thing the arm made contact with was the ground as it evacuated the body of the Orc. Before the Orc could make a noise or respond, the sword found a new home in the Orc's throat. Blood sputtered around the sword and down the skin of the bulky Orc. The Orc's body began to hyperventilate in shock and pain, until she died a silent death, suffocating of her own blood.

    Once the Orc's body stopped jerking, the sword of the Imperial began to retreat, and voided the Orc's throat, who then fell on her side before lying motionless.

    Ciarra looked at the Imperial, the fear absent before now present, and the girl's hands now shaking.

    "There... is that it?
  5. Caius applauded and began laughing "Hahaha, well done, well done indeed. It must've been the Orc, right? After all, who would want to kill a thief or a bandit? No, the terrible blacksmith has to be the one with the contract on its head." His tone was drenched in sarcasm and mockery accompanied with a smug grin.

    From a pouch at his belt he took out a key and slid it into the lock, opening the door. "You're free to go." He said, motioning to the outside before walking back over to the bed. In the most nonchalant way possible, he prostrated himself onto the bed, legs crossed and his head resting on one one arm. He reached over to the side, next to the chest to grab a bottle of nord mead he had stashed away there earlier and began drinking at a leisurely pace.
    "Oh, by the way," he said, pulling his lips away from the bottleneck."we would like to extend an invitation to you in the name of the dark brotherhood. We're a small outfit here in Skyrim, but we're effective and always looking for extra members. Are you, per chance, interested?"
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.