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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 16:35:53 GMT -5
^_^
...hey, how'd I lose karma? *shrugs* meh.
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Post by Maliku on Sept 30, 2006 17:06:39 GMT -5
Mmm, I sense trouble.
I'll give you that karma back +1.
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 17:08:33 GMT -5
Thanks.
hat kind of trouble? ó_ô
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Post by Maliku on Sept 30, 2006 17:14:23 GMT -5
Something that involves screaming and/or fighting.
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:08:28 GMT -5
Artorus pulled himself from the water. He had made his way underneath the main bridge, careful to remain silent lest any passing watchman be looking for him. He spied a Legion horse outside a nearby building. He crawled into the brush and waited. After several minutes had past a guard emerged from the building and mounted the horse. He started south, for which Artorus thanked the Nine because he was planning to head north. He did not think that he would have been missed yet, but he’d rather not tempt fate. Artorus waited in silence for almost an hour before emerging. Speed would be his ally; however, he did not want to rush into making any foolish mistakes.
He crept slowly along the path for half of a mile before finally relaxing. He still had some time until dawn, and he would see anyone with a torch coming long before they saw him. He slowed his pace and took some time to breathe the fresh air. He hadn’t been out of the city in the whole time he’d been back in Cyrodiil. It was nice to be able to walk freely in his homeland, something he had not done in over twelve years. He inhaled deeply but stopped as he the sound of a snapping twig reached his ear.
Artorus dove into the grass and rolled into a crouching position. Over a decade living in Morrowind, a much harsher place than the capital, had sharpened his senses and reflexes. He was hidden and scouring the landscape for the source of the noise in the blink of an eye. After a few seconds, a deer wandered out onto the road. Artorus rose, chuckling, and startled the deer back in the direction from whence it came. Still laughing, Artorus continued down the path.
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Post by Maliku on Sept 30, 2006 19:26:37 GMT -5
Need....more....story....now...
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:32:40 GMT -5
The next few hours were uneventful and the sun was just rising in the sky as the incline of the path began to increase. Just off the side of the path spied a fort. He immediately recognized it as Fort Empire. He and his two brothers had played there as children. These days it was probably safer to avoid the older forts all together. Most times, nasty wildlife had taken up residence in them. The ones nature hadn’t reclaimed were almost invariably worse. Bandits liked to use them as bases because they were well fortified and offered a maze of passageways to disappear into should the need arise. Artorus crept closer and peered into the entrance. Sure enough a troll was sitting in front of the main door. He was trying to get at the meaty part of a mudcrab by bashing its shell with a rocking. Artorus did not want to take on a full grown troll, especially one with a large rock in hand. He carefully slipped back onto the trail and continued his trek.
An hour or so later, the path had leveled off and looked as if it might start sloping back down up ahead. Artorus was strolling along, wishing he had brought more to drink when a sound caught his attention. This time it was a snarl, a definite sign of trouble. He glanced over his shoulder to see a wolf leap out of the forest at him. Artorus was already moving. He put his weight on his right foot. Pushing with his left, he pivoted and simultaneously drew his sword. As he whipped around to face the beast, he swung his sword through the air. The flat of his blade connected with the side of the wolf’s head with an audible crack.
The wolf was knocked to the ground and got to his feet slowly, obviously dazed by the blow. Artorus took the time the set himself in a defensive stance. The wolf, a bit more wary now, began circling its foe. As soon as he saw an opening he lunged. Again Artorus brought the blade up and the wolf bit down on cold silver. It yelped and jumped back. This exchange of blow continued down the path until Artorus found his back up against a sharp drop. The wolf, sensing victory, lunged one last time. Artorus anticipated the attack and jumped backward. While in the air, Artorus pulled out his bow and notched one arrow. He let fly at the wolf, whose own lunge had carried it over the edge, just before he landed on his back and blacked out.
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Post by Maliku on Sept 30, 2006 19:36:34 GMT -5
Hmm....
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:38:27 GMT -5
Hmm?
Oh, and that is generally agreed upon as the most poorly written section, FYI.
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Post by dogonda on Sept 30, 2006 19:39:40 GMT -5
n.o. but it si
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:40:42 GMT -5
?
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Post by dogonda on Sept 30, 2006 19:41:39 GMT -5
is, this is why i shouldnt use quick reply.
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:43:28 GMT -5
XD
I'm gonna see what piece is next. Depending on what it is, I'll post it tonight. I don't want to end on that but I don't want to get too far ahead of myself.
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Post by Maliku on Sept 30, 2006 19:45:48 GMT -5
I want more though. I just said Hmm.... to post something.
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Post by Delta1212 on Sept 30, 2006 19:48:50 GMT -5
Artorus woke with a start. He leapt to his feet and glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings. After a second, he remembered the wolf. He looked around and found its body lying in the bushes a few feet away. The arrow had flown straight into the beast’s open maw and penetrated the roof of the mouth, passing through its skull. It had been a lucky shot. That is odd, he thought. It was an iron arrow instead of the Legion’s usual silver. He decided that someone must have put the arrow into the supplies by accident; either that or someone was trying to make a profit by skimping on quality. He bent down to retrieve the arrow but gave up after a few minutes. It had lodged itself in the bone, and there was no way Artorus could remove the arrow without snapping it in half. Besides, he still had a full quiver and his sword. The loss of one arrow, especially one of low quality, would hardly render him helpless. Night had fallen, which meant he’d been out for most of the day. He was incredibly lucky that no one had found him, he realized. Neither guards nor bandits would have been a great help to his mission. He started down the road again. He figured that the Roxy Inn must be close now and did not want to run into trouble when he was within arm’s reach of his goal.
After an hour of slow traveling, he spied a light. As he moved closer, he saw that it was coming from a small wooden building. A sign out front displayed the words “Roxy Inn” in small worn letters. He had made it to his destination. It was not much to look at for a place that had become so important to him. It was a nondescript little two story house. There was a bench out front and a horse tied to a hook on the wall. There was little to differentiate it from any other inn in Cyrodiil. There was something ominous about it all the same. It was as if, despite the light shining through the window, the night grew darker around the little house. It was almost as if the night were crowding around the inn, leaving the air thick and strangely musty. Although he was outside, Artorus felt as if he had just entered a crypt. He dismissed the feeling as being no more than his imagination, probably from a bump on the head he sustained during his fall. Just because there was nothing evil about the inn, however, didn’t mean that he was safe.
Still moving as stealthily as possible, he approached the inn. It was unlikely that a guard had been stationed here when manpower was so low, and even if one had, it was unlikely that he would be on the watch for Artorus. Still, you could not be too careful. He peered through the window. There was a woman standing at the bar, probably the owner, and three men that looked like they could handle themselves in a fight, if it was necessary, sitting around a table. The flickering candlelight made the people’s shadows appear to dance across the walls, each independent of its host. Luckily, there was no guard in the room. Artorus marched wearily through the door.
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