Ath snorts softly to Dak's words. "You must not have any friends if you think i'm just a so-called friend lass." He shook his head then groaned as the master was none other then the mad god.........great. Well maybe there own guild master would not be to angry at Lorundil for working on a daedric lords orders? Yeah one can hope. Ath looked back to the dead brotherhood agent, then to Dust then back to the agent then back to Dust.
One could see the wheels turning in the mind of the thief. "The best solution would be to just return the book to the brotherhood, this isn't a sanctioned guild theft by the guild master for us....but will the mad god let us?." He muttered his question out loud. On high profile things, this would have to have been sanctioned due to the nature of the group. Like steeling from the mage collage would be, or the imperial guard. Ath sighed softly shaking his head and rubbed his eyes. He also just thought about leaving this entire thing, he didn't want to get wrapped up in the daedric lords affairs........but he couldn't leave Lorundil alone in this.
"See something just doesn't sit right with that statement." He muttered softly to himself to Daks words of just giving the journal back after reading it.
Ath went quiet then to let the others speak while he stood near Lorundil. He reached up rubbing his chin while he went back to studying the corpse's armor, making plans in his head of different outcomes. The words of fighting, and killing did not escape him but hopefully it would not come to that for he did not feel like getting hurt or possibly killed over this thing right now. And on the other opposite end of the spectrum, he was curious just what was in that journal, what could it tell him? What could it do?
One could see the wheels turning in the mind of the thief. "The best solution would be to just return the book to the brotherhood, this isn't a sanctioned guild theft by the guild master for us....but will the mad god let us?." He muttered his question out loud. On high profile things, this would have to have been sanctioned due to the nature of the group. Like steeling from the mage collage would be, or the imperial guard. Ath sighed softly shaking his head and rubbed his eyes. He also just thought about leaving this entire thing, he didn't want to get wrapped up in the daedric lords affairs........but he couldn't leave Lorundil alone in this.
"See something just doesn't sit right with that statement." He muttered softly to himself to Daks words of just giving the journal back after reading it.
Ath went quiet then to let the others speak while he stood near Lorundil. He reached up rubbing his chin while he went back to studying the corpse's armor, making plans in his head of different outcomes. The words of fighting, and killing did not escape him but hopefully it would not come to that for he did not feel like getting hurt or possibly killed over this thing right now. And on the other opposite end of the spectrum, he was curious just what was in that journal, what could it tell him? What could it do?
(OOC: I had a proposal, folks!
So, we know Lorundil hid the journal. Where, exactly? Well, he stole it for his master, so naturally he'd want to return it to his Master, which is thankfully easier than it sounds since Sheogorath is INSIDE all of us. So, perhaps he sent it on an express trip to his stomach, to Sheogorath?
This would mean our little adventure would need to continue on, going to the Shivering Isles in order to hunt down the book. Dust could transport everyone there (at the risk of their sanity, of course) or they could find another way to enter. Would anybody be up for this? It could be a lot of fun, but it could also be terrible and will almost certainly be a lot more to write in future.
So, what do you all think? Or does anyone else have any fun ideas to contribute? 
)
So, we know Lorundil hid the journal. Where, exactly? Well, he stole it for his master, so naturally he'd want to return it to his Master, which is thankfully easier than it sounds since Sheogorath is INSIDE all of us. So, perhaps he sent it on an express trip to his stomach, to Sheogorath?
This would mean our little adventure would need to continue on, going to the Shivering Isles in order to hunt down the book. Dust could transport everyone there (at the risk of their sanity, of course) or they could find another way to enter. Would anybody be up for this? It could be a lot of fun, but it could also be terrible and will almost certainly be a lot more to write in future.
So, what do you all think? Or does anyone else have any fun ideas to contribute? )
I like this idea xD]
(OOC: It's an interesting idea - a nice turn of the ents, and a pleasant change from Vilverin. This I like. )
)
(((OOC: Then it seems we're all in favour of this idea! Go ahead, Kir! )))
)))
(OOC: Alright, with pleasure! Lemme know if I should change anything!)
Dust narrowed her eyes as Astarill summarized the situation quite nicely. Interesting. And so he was mad, but not willing to return the journal - wherever it was.
Who's journal is it, anyway? Someone I know? She thought on this briefly before being drawn out again by the assassin speaking.
"Before we can do any of that anyway, we need to find the damn thing." Dust turned to Lorundil, switching again to Daedric. Could you tell me where you hi - put the journal for our Lord?
Lorundil giggled and replied in Tamrielic. "It's already at his house!"
Dust blinked. "His - palace? You delivered it to his palace?"
"Oh, yes!" Lorundil shrieked happily, doing a little clap and speaking in a rather singsong way. "Sent it straight to him! You know as well as me, don't you? You serve our Lord, too. He's inside all of us! So where better to send the book to him, eh? And I washed it down with a couple of fishsticks, yes! He can use them as bookmarks!"
The information flooded over her - Dust stood stiffly, absorbing for a moment before deadpanning.
"You ate it."
"I hope my Master enjoys it as much as I did!" He giggled and sat on the stone floor, crossing his legs. "It will have gone through me to him! Else I'd have shat it out already and ooh, that would have been unpleasant. But no! He has received it from my stomach and now he'll name me High Lord of Fishsticks!" He gave a quiet sigh at that and seemed to drift off into his own thoughts, perhaps upon whatever a lord of fishsticks would dream of.
There is nothing, thought Dust, like devouring a good book. She stifled a half-hearted laugh at the absurdity of the situation before dragging a hand down her face, glancing at the others to see their reactions.
"This - complicates things."
Lemme know if I should change anything!)Dust narrowed her eyes as Astarill summarized the situation quite nicely. Interesting. And so he was mad, but not willing to return the journal - wherever it was.
Who's journal is it, anyway? Someone I know? She thought on this briefly before being drawn out again by the assassin speaking.
"Before we can do any of that anyway, we need to find the damn thing." Dust turned to Lorundil, switching again to Daedric. Could you tell me where you hi - put the journal for our Lord?
Lorundil giggled and replied in Tamrielic. "It's already at his house!"
Dust blinked. "His - palace? You delivered it to his palace?"
"Oh, yes!" Lorundil shrieked happily, doing a little clap and speaking in a rather singsong way. "Sent it straight to him! You know as well as me, don't you? You serve our Lord, too. He's inside all of us! So where better to send the book to him, eh? And I washed it down with a couple of fishsticks, yes! He can use them as bookmarks!"
The information flooded over her - Dust stood stiffly, absorbing for a moment before deadpanning.
"You ate it."
"I hope my Master enjoys it as much as I did!" He giggled and sat on the stone floor, crossing his legs. "It will have gone through me to him! Else I'd have shat it out already and ooh, that would have been unpleasant. But no! He has received it from my stomach and now he'll name me High Lord of Fishsticks!" He gave a quiet sigh at that and seemed to drift off into his own thoughts, perhaps upon whatever a lord of fishsticks would dream of.
There is nothing, thought Dust, like devouring a good book. She stifled a half-hearted laugh at the absurdity of the situation before dragging a hand down her face, glancing at the others to see their reactions.
"This - complicates things."
Astarill narrowed his eyes and drew his eyebrows down into a mild frown of puzzlement when the Imperial woman informed them she only wanted to read the journal’s contents. He didn’t speak, but his expression seemed to speak for him. Is that all?
He looked briefly at Ath when the Bosmer expressed his skepticism as well. Why would the woman go through all this trouble, going as far as having them taken in by the City Guard for questioning, if all she wanted was to read it before handing it over? It seemed too easy, and Astarill distrusted easy.
Fortunately for him, things were about to turn much, much worse. He hadn’t really listened while Dust spoke to the mad man, too busy deciding that he would assume for a moment that what the Imperial woman said was true, forming possible outcomes for their next course of action. Yet he couldn’t help but hear Dust’s conclusion, despite wishing he could un-hear it.
He… ate… it… ?
Astarill stared at the alchemist -blankly at first, then furiously- as his face gradually twisted into a snarl, which he then directed at Lorundil. He clenched his hand tightly around the hilt of his sword, then made his way to the other Altmer with large, angry strides. He grabbed the mad man by the collar and dragged him up, out of his cross-legged seat.
“How would you like to eat steel instead, you mad twit?!”
“I don’t know,” the other Altmer squeaked, “Do you have any coriander on you?”
Astarill’s nostrils flared for a moment, before he released his hold on the man. “No,” he growled, and turned away, resting his glare on a wall while he attempted to gather his thoughts.
“Then I would not like to!” Lorundil announced, settling back comfortably into his previous sitting position. He shook his head and smiled faintly, muttering, “No coriander… tsk.” He looked up at his friend the Bosmer, “Would you believe that? No coriander for the High Lord of Fishsticks.”
He looked briefly at Ath when the Bosmer expressed his skepticism as well. Why would the woman go through all this trouble, going as far as having them taken in by the City Guard for questioning, if all she wanted was to read it before handing it over? It seemed too easy, and Astarill distrusted easy.
Fortunately for him, things were about to turn much, much worse. He hadn’t really listened while Dust spoke to the mad man, too busy deciding that he would assume for a moment that what the Imperial woman said was true, forming possible outcomes for their next course of action. Yet he couldn’t help but hear Dust’s conclusion, despite wishing he could un-hear it.
He… ate… it… ?
Astarill stared at the alchemist -blankly at first, then furiously- as his face gradually twisted into a snarl, which he then directed at Lorundil. He clenched his hand tightly around the hilt of his sword, then made his way to the other Altmer with large, angry strides. He grabbed the mad man by the collar and dragged him up, out of his cross-legged seat.
“How would you like to eat steel instead, you mad twit?!”
“I don’t know,” the other Altmer squeaked, “Do you have any coriander on you?”
Astarill’s nostrils flared for a moment, before he released his hold on the man. “No,” he growled, and turned away, resting his glare on a wall while he attempted to gather his thoughts.
“Then I would not like to!” Lorundil announced, settling back comfortably into his previous sitting position. He shook his head and smiled faintly, muttering, “No coriander… tsk.” He looked up at his friend the Bosmer, “Would you believe that? No coriander for the High Lord of Fishsticks.”
Dak tilted her head at the Bosmer. “…I haven’t anymore,” she answered sternly, “a little man made them pay the price of his own greed with their life.” Her face twitched as the memories surfaced; an indecipherable expression glanced across her features, fleetingly, then was gone.
The conversation between Lorundil and the Breton woman made Dak feel exhausted but she reached for her knife when the hawk let fly at the turkey. She couldn’t let Lorundil being hurt. Yet. Thank to the Nine, the fight never happened and Dak arched an eyebrow at the goofy Altmer.
“…you could have told that earlier," she muttered.
“You didn’t ask,” tweeted Lorundil while stoping to look at the Bosmer for turning his head in her direction. “You played the game well! I hate cheaters! They’re always the lazy ones who end with all the fish sticks! But not this time! This time all the fish sticks are belong to me! Do you have coriander?”
“…no, just twenty bottles of shein at home. I’m going to need them,” concluded Dakari with a sigh.
The conversation between Lorundil and the Breton woman made Dak feel exhausted but she reached for her knife when the hawk let fly at the turkey. She couldn’t let Lorundil being hurt. Yet. Thank to the Nine, the fight never happened and Dak arched an eyebrow at the goofy Altmer.
“…you could have told that earlier," she muttered.
“You didn’t ask,” tweeted Lorundil while stoping to look at the Bosmer for turning his head in her direction. “You played the game well! I hate cheaters! They’re always the lazy ones who end with all the fish sticks! But not this time! This time all the fish sticks are belong to me! Do you have coriander?”
“…no, just twenty bottles of shein at home. I’m going to need them,” concluded Dakari with a sigh.
Ath was about to step in to pry Astarill's hands from Lorundil but before he could Astarill let go which was a good thing. Sighing softly he shook his head and looked to Lorundil a good bit before he spoke to the altmer.
"I don't know my friend, I don't know but very bad they don't." he muttered playing along with Lorundil.
Ath looked to Dust then to the altmer and then to the others as he heard what they had to say about the mad god and what Lorundil did with the journal. His eyes widened slightly and he looked at his friend.
"You ate it...........for the mad god you ate the journal?" he asked. Lorundil would nod his head enthusiastically.
"Yes yes and tasty it was!" the altmer giggled.
Ath groaned and rubbed his eyes once more. Great, just great so the journal was now with the mad god. What where they to do then? The journal was in the realm of the deadric lord and he for one really did not want to go there. Eyes turned to the others.
"Thoughts on our new situation? Ideas on what to do?" He asked then glanced to Dusk. "I may join you in those drinks for this." he grumbles.
With that said Ath just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall looking to the floor. He wasn't sure just what to really do right now with this information, not to mention they would have to explain this to the gray fox should he find out.....and he always seemed to find out about things like this.
"I don't know my friend, I don't know but very bad they don't." he muttered playing along with Lorundil.
Ath looked to Dust then to the altmer and then to the others as he heard what they had to say about the mad god and what Lorundil did with the journal. His eyes widened slightly and he looked at his friend.
"You ate it...........for the mad god you ate the journal?" he asked. Lorundil would nod his head enthusiastically.
"Yes yes and tasty it was!" the altmer giggled.
Ath groaned and rubbed his eyes once more. Great, just great so the journal was now with the mad god. What where they to do then? The journal was in the realm of the deadric lord and he for one really did not want to go there. Eyes turned to the others.
"Thoughts on our new situation? Ideas on what to do?" He asked then glanced to Dusk. "I may join you in those drinks for this." he grumbles.
With that said Ath just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall looking to the floor. He wasn't sure just what to really do right now with this information, not to mention they would have to explain this to the gray fox should he find out.....and he always seemed to find out about things like this.
Dust winced at the reactions around her, her gaze trailing after Astarill when he went to face the wall. She felt somehow this was her fault - the Dark Brotherhood had started this, the Madgod only complicated it, and both presided over her life more than she cared to admit. She spoke softly at first, voice rising.
"I could…"
She paused, steeling herself before speaking louder, so all could hear.
"I could take us there. I know a spell - a gift from the Madgod that would take us to my - my house, in the city. Near his palace. But it would be rather dangerous." She gnawed her lip. "I mean, so would the conventional way what with having your entrails chewed on by skinned hounds and…"
"Don't be shy!" Lorundil beamed kindly at her, head tilted, still seated rather comfortably. "Tell us your thoughts, sister. Neighbour. Could I trouble you to borrow a bit of coriander?"
Dust gave a exasperated laugh before her expression became solemn again. "The trouble is, my spell is a bit temperamental. The more people I attempt to transport with me…" She glanced around, exhaling slowly and dragging a hand through her hair. "The higher the risk things will go wrong. So we could end up with our minds transported, but our bodies left behind, or our noses where our eyes ought to be or…" I'm rambling. She abruptly clapped her mouth shut, waiting to hear the other's thoughts on her idea.
"I could…"
She paused, steeling herself before speaking louder, so all could hear.
"I could take us there. I know a spell - a gift from the Madgod that would take us to my - my house, in the city. Near his palace. But it would be rather dangerous." She gnawed her lip. "I mean, so would the conventional way what with having your entrails chewed on by skinned hounds and…"
"Don't be shy!" Lorundil beamed kindly at her, head tilted, still seated rather comfortably. "Tell us your thoughts, sister. Neighbour. Could I trouble you to borrow a bit of coriander?"
Dust gave a exasperated laugh before her expression became solemn again. "The trouble is, my spell is a bit temperamental. The more people I attempt to transport with me…" She glanced around, exhaling slowly and dragging a hand through her hair. "The higher the risk things will go wrong. So we could end up with our minds transported, but our bodies left behind, or our noses where our eyes ought to be or…" I'm rambling. She abruptly clapped her mouth shut, waiting to hear the other's thoughts on her idea.
“If you care to part with any of those, I’m willing to pay,” Astarill grumbled without taking his eyes off the wall, in reply to the Imperial woman and her statement about her bottles of shein.
And you can take the gold off my rotting corpse, the way things are going, he mentally added.
He sent a cold glare at Dust when she let out a laugh. Why she seemed to think the situation was funny, he could not fathom. And then it occurred to him that, among all of them, he was the only one who had anything to lose. He and the gibbering maniac, but the latter hardly counted. The others had a choice: find the journal and use it to their own ends, or call it a day and shrug it off without consequence.
How nice, he thought angrily, to have a choice. It must be hilarious.
Dust was only here because she wanted to see if she could help him. Any moment now, she could decide it wasn’t worth it. And so he was utterly dependent on her whims. The thought sickened him.
“If the journal is not returned to the Brotherhood, I am already dead,” he said, suppressing his anger while the alchemist still seemed her usual helpful self. “So I’ll take the risk.”
And you can take the gold off my rotting corpse, the way things are going, he mentally added.
He sent a cold glare at Dust when she let out a laugh. Why she seemed to think the situation was funny, he could not fathom. And then it occurred to him that, among all of them, he was the only one who had anything to lose. He and the gibbering maniac, but the latter hardly counted. The others had a choice: find the journal and use it to their own ends, or call it a day and shrug it off without consequence.
How nice, he thought angrily, to have a choice. It must be hilarious.
Dust was only here because she wanted to see if she could help him. Any moment now, she could decide it wasn’t worth it. And so he was utterly dependent on her whims. The thought sickened him.
“If the journal is not returned to the Brotherhood, I am already dead,” he said, suppressing his anger while the alchemist still seemed her usual helpful self. “So I’ll take the risk.”
“…I avoid drinking with magpies,” Dakari said at the Bosmer’s attempt to snatch up her precious alcohol. “Besides, I already own a drink to the hawk.” She glared at the Altmer’s back – not the crazy one, the other – with a slight frown.
Really it would be a shame, she decided, to let a shein drinker die without another reason than the madness and the boredom of some so-called God. No mention it had been a long time since she had met someone who liked that kind of beverage, and it had been even longer since she had shared a bottle with someone else. And the man seemed so…
Lonely.
Dak felt a pang in her chest, an aloneness she hadn’t felt in a long time. She approached the Altmer carefully. “I told you,” she spoke very quietly, “that you were going to need that drink. I…am sorry.”
She gritted her teeth when the Breton girl laughed. It sounded wrong in such a place. The rest of her babbling made Dak feeling like twenty bottles of shein would never be enough. Especially she was supposed to share them. She however spoke without hesitation.
“…I am coming as well. Not that I care…but I’ll testify for you. If the tit doesn’t kill the all of us first.”
(OOC: BTW, I got an idea for Dust's spell...since it apparently can go quite wrong, I thought it could be funny if it actually exchangrf everybody's bodies. Mer would become Men, Men would become women, spellcasters would find themselves trapped into the bodies of non-magic users and vice-versa? I'm just floating the idea, but I thought it could be funny.)
Really it would be a shame, she decided, to let a shein drinker die without another reason than the madness and the boredom of some so-called God. No mention it had been a long time since she had met someone who liked that kind of beverage, and it had been even longer since she had shared a bottle with someone else. And the man seemed so…
Lonely.
Dak felt a pang in her chest, an aloneness she hadn’t felt in a long time. She approached the Altmer carefully. “I told you,” she spoke very quietly, “that you were going to need that drink. I…am sorry.”
She gritted her teeth when the Breton girl laughed. It sounded wrong in such a place. The rest of her babbling made Dak feeling like twenty bottles of shein would never be enough. Especially she was supposed to share them. She however spoke without hesitation.
“…I am coming as well. Not that I care…but I’ll testify for you. If the tit doesn’t kill the all of us first.”
(OOC: BTW, I got an idea for Dust's spell...since it apparently can go quite wrong, I thought it could be funny if it actually exchangrf everybody's bodies. Mer would become Men, Men would become women, spellcasters would find themselves trapped into the bodies of non-magic users and vice-versa? I'm just floating the idea, but I thought it could be funny.)
(OOC: Interesting idea! I've never thought of Dust's spell working that way. I'm worried it might be a little TOO much chaos for the group on top of going to the Shivering Isles, especially since the idea behind the spell going wrong is that Sheogorath gets some more mad souls out of the deal. 
Buuut, it could also be highly amusing. What do the rest of you think?)
I've never thought of Dust's spell working that way. I'm worried it might be a little TOO much chaos for the group on top of going to the Shivering Isles, especially since the idea behind the spell going wrong is that Sheogorath gets some more mad souls out of the deal. Buuut, it could also be highly amusing. What do the rest of you think?)
Ath took on a fake look of hurt. "Lass that cuts deep inside me." He put his hand over his heart in mock pain at her words of magpies.
A smile then graced his lips as he went back to being quiet.........until Dust spoke of her idea of going to the shivering isles. A none to pleased look passed across the bosmers features at the mere idea. He wanted nothing to do with the daedric lord, or his lands, or any of that madness. Granted he was friends with one of the people whom was with Sheogorath.
"Oh yes, lets all just go to the lands of madness so we can become members of his court."
He says in tones that were rather not nice. Ath shook his head and shot a glare at Lorundil for this turn of events before he looked to dust and the others before speaking again.
"Bah, as much as I don't want to go there.......can't stop till things are finished with the dark brotherhood. Won't leave people hanging"
The bosmer took on a rather sullen, angry look while he rested back upon the stone of the chamber. His hands moved down to his weapons to check them out and make sure nothing was really wrong with them since they seemed to be going to these lands.
"Lorundil I swear if I die in that place I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your life."
(( OOC: I like that idea, it would be very interesting and I think add a new thing for them to argue, fight, and try to overcome. I think it would be very entertaining to see.))
A smile then graced his lips as he went back to being quiet.........until Dust spoke of her idea of going to the shivering isles. A none to pleased look passed across the bosmers features at the mere idea. He wanted nothing to do with the daedric lord, or his lands, or any of that madness. Granted he was friends with one of the people whom was with Sheogorath.
"Oh yes, lets all just go to the lands of madness so we can become members of his court."
He says in tones that were rather not nice. Ath shook his head and shot a glare at Lorundil for this turn of events before he looked to dust and the others before speaking again.
"Bah, as much as I don't want to go there.......can't stop till things are finished with the dark brotherhood. Won't leave people hanging"
The bosmer took on a rather sullen, angry look while he rested back upon the stone of the chamber. His hands moved down to his weapons to check them out and make sure nothing was really wrong with them since they seemed to be going to these lands.
"Lorundil I swear if I die in that place I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your life."
(( OOC: I like that idea, it would be very interesting and I think add a new thing for them to argue, fight, and try to overcome. I think it would be very entertaining to see.))
(((OOC: I think it's up to Quillweave to decide whether or not her character is able to realistically pull off a difficult spell and what the exact consequences of failure should be.
I only ask that if we go through with this idea, players will PM the player of the character's body their character resides in before making any assumptions about that body. If I understand Merela correctly, Astarill and Dakari will switch bodies, and Ath and Dust will switch bodies, so it is important that I work together well with Merela, and that silver_wolf and Quillweave work together well. If everyone agrees that that's not a problem, then I'd say we are more than capable of pulling our characters through this ordeal and end up with some interesting character development.
However, since it's Quillweave's spell: if it's not realistic to her that the three non-crazy characters survive the ordeal without going mad, we can't go through with this, because I personally do not consent to madness and Sheogorath-cultism in Astarill's character development.)))
I only ask that if we go through with this idea, players will PM the player of the character's body their character resides in before making any assumptions about that body. If I understand Merela correctly, Astarill and Dakari will switch bodies, and Ath and Dust will switch bodies, so it is important that I work together well with Merela, and that silver_wolf and Quillweave work together well. If everyone agrees that that's not a problem, then I'd say we are more than capable of pulling our characters through this ordeal and end up with some interesting character development.
However, since it's Quillweave's spell: if it's not realistic to her that the three non-crazy characters survive the ordeal without going mad, we can't go through with this, because I personally do not consent to madness and Sheogorath-cultism in Astarill's character development.)))
(OOC: I do like the idea of switching bodies, but like Ethelle said, unfortunately the spell is meant to make the poor souls who are victimized go mad. *tries to imagine a mad Dakari, Astarill and Ath'vesu - fails*
So I'm going to politely say no to doing this for the sake of Dust's spellwork and everyone's sanity, BUT I think the body-switching thing could be fun in another RP. C; Is this okay? I don't mean to put anybody out, it's just that the whole point of Dust's spell going wrong is to make people crazy so Sheogorath gets something out of the deal, and I sort of think things are chaotic enough now. BUT, as I said, I do like the idea of it for the future!
Is this okay, folks?)
So I'm going to politely say no to doing this for the sake of Dust's spellwork and everyone's sanity, BUT I think the body-switching thing could be fun in another RP. C; Is this okay? I don't mean to put anybody out, it's just that the whole point of Dust's spell going wrong is to make people crazy so Sheogorath gets something out of the deal, and I sort of think things are chaotic enough now.
BUT, as I said, I do like the idea of it for the future!Is this okay, folks?)
[OOC: Yep Yep!]
Dust couldn't help wincing at the scathing glare Astarill sent in her direction. She shrunk for a moment, biting her lip. What did I do? Guilt welled up once more before she shook it off, taking a steadying breath. Dakari and Ath'vesu added their thoughts - they were all in agreement. Although Dust narrowed her eyes at the assassin, grumbling. "I'm not a bird. And I won't kill us all. It'll be some external factor that may or may not be brought about by me, that's all." She laughed, though it was more of a scoff, before addressing them all.
"Okay. Well, if we're all in favour, let's get it over with. I don't know what will happen, but hopefully things will go smoothly. At least, somewhat..." She stepped towards them, shrugging her bag on her shoulder. "Be ready. The transportation is nauseating."
In preparation for her spell while waiting for all to give her the go-ahead, Dust began to think very hard of anywhere but her home in the Isles.
This was one of Sheogorath's spells, after all. Better safe than sorry, with Him.
(OOC: However, they definitely should have SOME consequence for the spell, since so many people at once should go wrong somehow. Normally they'd be teleported to the safety of Dust's home, but Ethelle and I thought maybe they could wind up somewhere more hostile. is that okay?)
"Okay. Well, if we're all in favour, let's get it over with. I don't know what will happen, but hopefully things will go smoothly. At least, somewhat..." She stepped towards them, shrugging her bag on her shoulder. "Be ready. The transportation is nauseating."
In preparation for her spell while waiting for all to give her the go-ahead, Dust began to think very hard of anywhere but her home in the Isles.
This was one of Sheogorath's spells, after all. Better safe than sorry, with Him.
(OOC: However, they definitely should have SOME consequence for the spell, since so many people at once should go wrong somehow.
Normally they'd be teleported to the safety of Dust's home, but Ethelle and I thought maybe they could wind up somewhere more hostile. is that okay?)
Astarill turned his glare from Dust to the Imperial woman when the latter approached him and spoke to him in a hushed tone. He scoffed, angering himself over the condescension of her first statement.
I told you so, my godsdamned arse, he thought.
No one, including the seasick woman, could’ve known things were going to turn out quite this bad when she offered him the bottle of shein at the start of the day. Surely, if he hadn’t seen it coming, no one had. At least, that was easier to assume than having to admit he had failed to accurately predict the gravity of the situation.
His glare made way briefly for an expression of confusion and suspicion when the assassin apologized for -what seemed- no reason at all, and then proceeded to offer her help. He narrowed his eyes and his glare returned when his mind presented him with plenty of reasons why she would pretend to help him. She could be attempting to gain his trust in order to enable herself to run off with the journal as soon as he let his guard down.
“I’d rather have your shein than your help, but I’ll take both,” he grumbled nevertheless, and postponed deciding whether or not he was going to believe the assassin to a time when he had more information to make a more accurate judgement.
He ignored what the Bosmer said, as it rather pointedly described how foolish this whole plan was, and he didn’t need to hear that now. He ignored Dust’s words for the same reason. He simply stood, looking grim, ready for the alchemist’s spell.
I told you so, my godsdamned arse, he thought.
No one, including the seasick woman, could’ve known things were going to turn out quite this bad when she offered him the bottle of shein at the start of the day. Surely, if he hadn’t seen it coming, no one had. At least, that was easier to assume than having to admit he had failed to accurately predict the gravity of the situation.
His glare made way briefly for an expression of confusion and suspicion when the assassin apologized for -what seemed- no reason at all, and then proceeded to offer her help. He narrowed his eyes and his glare returned when his mind presented him with plenty of reasons why she would pretend to help him. She could be attempting to gain his trust in order to enable herself to run off with the journal as soon as he let his guard down.
“I’d rather have your shein than your help, but I’ll take both,” he grumbled nevertheless, and postponed deciding whether or not he was going to believe the assassin to a time when he had more information to make a more accurate judgement.
He ignored what the Bosmer said, as it rather pointedly described how foolish this whole plan was, and he didn’t need to hear that now. He ignored Dust’s words for the same reason. He simply stood, looking grim, ready for the alchemist’s spell.
Dakari tilted her head without blinking at the Altmer’s answer. It wasn’t a flat refusal, but it wasn’t an enthusiastic approval either. It will have to do anyway, she thought. The hawk was easy to read. She was more worried about the magpie and the tit. One was a thief, the other was mad, and there was no way to be sure they would not betray the rest of them for keeping the journal.
Maybe that’s what her spell is really for, she scoffed bitterly to herself when the girl started to blabber, to kill the rest of us. She, after all, is a Breton. And Bretons were well-known for their innate resistance to magicka. However, the way the girl had reacted at the other assassin’s death indicated that she believed in the Tenets, and that she wasn’t willing to kill a “Sister”.
With a sigh, Dak rummaged into her pocket and picked out two small, slightly crumbled biscuits. She put one into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. It was apparently safer to not have an empty stomach. She was sick of the taste of bile. The other biscuit was half the way to her mouth when she frowned, looked at it then offered it to the hawk.
“…you’re going to need that as well,” she simply said.
Maybe that’s what her spell is really for, she scoffed bitterly to herself when the girl started to blabber, to kill the rest of us. She, after all, is a Breton. And Bretons were well-known for their innate resistance to magicka. However, the way the girl had reacted at the other assassin’s death indicated that she believed in the Tenets, and that she wasn’t willing to kill a “Sister”.
With a sigh, Dak rummaged into her pocket and picked out two small, slightly crumbled biscuits. She put one into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. It was apparently safer to not have an empty stomach. She was sick of the taste of bile. The other biscuit was half the way to her mouth when she frowned, looked at it then offered it to the hawk.
“…you’re going to need that as well,” she simply said.
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