“Well, I hope you’re disappointed.” The Breton told her honestly. “Theses creatures are hard to come by in this land, I used to sell them to eccentric nobles. It takes awhile to learn their language and so forth, more of a hassle for you, really.”
Vistel narrowed her eyes.
“Their language?”
She didn’t know of any animals that could speak this far north. Would selling an animal that has a language technically be a form of slavery? She supposed it would have to do with if it was an advanced language or a sort of instinctual communication, she was more curious than ever but she realized if she dug any deeper then she might have delved too far. The conflict silenced her for some time.
“How about I pretend I heard none of this and I go about my days in a blissful ignorance?” She said, hoping after he’d revealed the small amount of information that he had, that it was still little enough that he’d let her go. She didn’t know how dangerous this man was, but there was something peculiar about him that she couldn’t place her finger on. She furrowed her brows slightly, looking him up-and-down briefly.
She extended a hand as a last-ditch attempt of agreement to her proposal.
Ulag’s arm gave pretty easily to the pull, not really prepared at all for it. the map was at best ragged, all fine details faded into obscurity. What ever symbols that once decorated it had been replaced by the odd markings made by the orc.
“Dont you know Tang Mo when you see it,” He quipped, placing a finger on one of the markings. “I’d say we’re about an hour’s walking distance away from the nearest ruin so we should set off soon. If you need any supplies or anything I’d suggest you go gather them now.” Ulag folded the map delicately and tucked it back into his belt, turning his attention to the womer.
“If you need to gather anything, meet me at the gate when you’re ready. If not, let us get going.”
“I shouldn’t need much, I’ll only be a minute.”
She looked up at Ulag’s face for a short moment, contemplating the probable outcome of their journey. With his battle expertise and her combined Alchemy and Illusion, she was certain they’d be able to overcome anything. His height was more reassuring, the seemingly impenetrable boulder of an Orc that he was. She’d consider him a mountain, but Cyros had that title to himself.
His mention of Tang Mo interested her more in what else he might know. He didn’t only seem to talk the talk, he really was coming across as an educated man every time she gauged his demeanor. He didn’t seem to be quite like other Orcs she’d met. He still had the gruffness to him though, that was certain. She began to wonder if he carried the famed “Orcish Rage” she’d heard about but never seen herself— perhaps this journey of theirs would end up being more educational than she’d thought.
“But, just in case, I’ll head back to my room.” She said, beginning to walk away at a rather unhurried pace. “And by the way, interesting that you mention Tang Mo, not many that I’ve met have known any names of the Akaviri lands.”
And with that, she rounded the corner with a slight wave…
Upon reaching the front gate of Riften, there seemed to be nothing new to her aside from a pair of gloves which looked rather plain.
“I’m all ready to head out if you are.”
Anonymous asked: What would you be doing if you were still in Valenwood?
magevistel replied to your post: Do you have any method in which you could obtain…
Did they happen to be purple? Regardless, if they were soul gems I could supply you with some healing ointments— or strength increasing potions, if that’s something you’d want. Waterbreathing potions are also always handy in a pinch.“I cannot exactly recall the color, I apologies. I do remember one of the mages who I was working for expressed quite a bit of interest in them though.” The orc squinted, contemplating her offer. “That’ll do for payment” He nodded, “There will be more than enough gold in the crypts to make up for any of my expenses and health potions are almost always helpful.”
The orc pulled a tattered map from his belt line, unfolding it’s yellowed paper. It’s original markings faded and replaced with crude new ones that were obviously drawn by the orc himself. “Oh, and you will be coming with me might I add. I have no idea what these soul gems look like and I will not wander into that horrid place just to grab the wrong stone.”
“I suppose I’ll have to.” She admitted, walking around Ulag and standing on her toes to see the map he was holding up. She honestly hadn’t considered how tall he was until now, and in an act of frustration she pulled his arm down to see better.
“So how far away is this located exactly?” She blinked and looked at the crude markings on the map, turning her head to slowly face his. “What province is it that we’re looking at again?”
Vistel took in a deep breath of crisp Winterhold air before promptly heading back indoors with a furrowed brow. Cold whips of air followed her back into the Hall of Attainment, carrying with their tendrils flecks of snow.
“Too cold.”
She crossed her arms and sighed, making an immediate path towards her quarters. She was stopped by a young Conjurer who asked her something about a bag of soul gems. Vistel looked at the Dunmer, looked back towards her room with a blank-but-longing stare and thought for a moment.
“No, I haven’t seen one. I know it’s typical to ask the Bosmer, but-“ She shrugged and curtly weaved around the Conjurer and to her own quarters, sitting down on her bed. However, it seemed not even this action deterred the angry woman’s persistence.
“Someone saw you with a bag that looked suspiciously like mine.” The Conjurer insisted, placing an arm as a closed gate cross the doorway.
“And what would I, an Illusionist of all things, do with your bag of precious glittering death-rocks?”
The noise emitted by the Conjurer reminded Vistel of a cow.
“Want me to help you look?” Vistel asked while flipping through a book while laying on her back, making no indication she was going to get up.
The Dunmer woman sighed deeply and looked around Vistel’s quarters, while Vistel crossed her legs and continued to read her Illusion Tome. When the Dunmer walked over to her bed she lifted up her head from the pillow so that the Conjurer could look underneath it, and when she was finished she placed her head back down on the pillow as the Conjurer stomped off.
“Well, that was pleasant.” Vistel muttered. In truth she might have had something to do with it, but she also had a bone to pick with that particular Dunmer, so if she had done something it wouldn’t have been entirely without reason.
She was also paying off a large debt to an enchanter, and if she’d stolen the bag and given the gems to him it would have let her be free from his service for a day or two so that she could continue her studies.
In truth she’d only made the deal because she was bored and wanted to bother someone in particular. She looked over to the purple orb resting in a box next to her bed and chuckled, strumming her fingers across the binding of her book with a smirk on her face. The delivery would be there any day now.
“I know my way better than most” Ulag boasted “I’ve been all over this country side for jobs.”
Ulag took a moment to assess the surroundings in all honest he had no idea where he was but he figured the path had to lead to a town eventually. So taking the situation by the reigns he headed down the most promising looking path he could see assuming she’d follow him. “Tell me now, why is you’ve come to Skyrim? I mean this is surely not a welcome place for mages?”
“Not exactly,” She said as she caught up to him. “But there’s a college over in Winterhold that I’ve been sent word from… Well in truth I sent my letter first, but there was a reply! Have you ever participated in any sort of education?”
(Source: magevistel)
“Murderous is an understatement, I worked for an imperial who put moonsugar into his potions. To keep it short I earned my weight in gold defending that guy.” The sellsword recalled, a nostalgic glaze coating his eyes as he drifted into thought for a moment.
Ulag only reminisced for a few short moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to drift off like this but luckily he had learned to shake himself out of it. “I will tell you this though, he was a smart businessman. Really seemed like he did everything to get him the most money possible.”
The orc pulled at his waistband hoisting higher up onto his hips, taking a moment to observe the environment ”Perhaps we should make our way towards the nearest town? It’s getting rather late.”
Vistel nodded once and placed her hands on her hips. “Perhaps we should… Except I’m at a loss to where the nearest town would even be located.” She said as she walked into the middle of the road, looking down the path both ways.
“I take it you know your way around here better than I do? Or are we going to need a map?”
(Source: magevistel)
If you must know, it’s for a collection. I accumulated quite a few official Thalmor autographs back home in Valenwood.Hm, I find it odd all the same. Dare I say that I find your collection…unique if not alarming. Yet, I believe alarming is better-suited in this instance.
… You’re finding an Bosmer doing something strange alarming? You must’ve never been to Valenwood. ‘Passion comes before Appearances!’ As my Grandfather always used to say… or does say… every time we visit in fact.
…
It’s actually quite repetitive after sixty years.
(via inactive-volamer-deactivated201)
magevistel replied to your post: Can I have your autograph?
Can I get one too?Clearly, I fail to see how attaining my signature is of any importance to you. I am rather perplexed to be quite honest.
If you must know, it’s for a collection. I accumulated quite a few official Thalmor autographs back home in Valenwood.
(via inactive-volamer-deactivated201)
“Yes… it is.” After she’d calmed down it wasn’t hard to tell he’d become bored, although she didn’t quite know if it was her own fault or his lack of intelligence. Placing her bet in the latter seemed like a wiser choice to her.
“Do you happen to need any alchemical ingredients or potions? It’ll cost you, unless it’s urgent and you’re dying and sickly.” She looked him up-and-down with a skeptical stare. “Which I doubt.”
“No, No, I don’t need any thing of that sort.”
Ulag brushed imaginary dust off his lap and sheathed his dagger. “Take no offense when I say this but I would not buy potions from some wandering elf anyway. How am I suppose to know you did not slip some sort of moon sugar in there? I’ve worked with alchemists before. I know their tricks.”
The sellsword rose from the stump he was situated on, making sure to check the area around it for anything that may have fallen off his person. “Not as to say I don’t trust you, well actualy… I don’t trust you.” Ulag admitted as he searched. Ulag spotted out the corner of his eye a metallic disk, snatching it up quickly he jammed it into his belt line and turned his attention back to Vistel. “I’m sure you understand.”
“I’m almost positive I do.” She said without attempting to hide her curiosity as to what it was that he’d just done. The Orc began to seem more intelligent than most she’d met, which was a quality she’d already attributed to him, but now she couldn’t quite gauge the depth his smarts— he might be smarter than she’d assumed, or rather was most certainly so.
“And as for the old moonsugar trick, I’m afraid I’ve never experimented with the stuff. While it’s a great idea to make money and assure customers will come back, people tend to get a little… murderously deprived when they don’t get their dose. It’s also highly illegal in most areas.”
Asking him about the object he’d just tucked away would be unwise and he’d react badly. She didn’t have a plan to find out what it was, but the object had begun to pervade her thoughts. What secret could he possibly have as a sellsword? And why was such an intelligent and well-mannered Orc a sellsword, at that?