Stand and Deliver

"The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door. Independent Elder Scrolls OC blog for Claudius Felis, Imperial bon vivant and dandy highwayman.

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

ooc; Holds the Cities wants me to voice act for them, i’m so pleased

[wasrumblepaks-deactivated201609]

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

✧

[whatdosendhelp]

“Oh, yes, of course, because robbing unlucky fools at swordpoint is a far more noble pursuit than doing it while they aren’t looking,” Caesa snarked. He was beginning to get a rise out of her– she wasn’t sure that that was his intention, but his comment about her schedule set her on edge. 

He wasn’t wrong; she did have a business to run, and the fact was that the prospect of serving any length prison time was legitimately terrifying to Caesa. Even in a small, country jail such as this, already the confines of the little cell were wearing on her already-frazzled nerves. 

“Like I said before, I know my way around a lock.” By some miracle, she’d managed a more even tone of voice, despite her growing ill-temper. “A skill that I will happily employ to get us both out of here– if you would be so kind as to lead the way. Preferably as soon as possible, thank you.”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Claudius had now realised that, for the first time in forever, he had the upper hand. The prospect of prison - where he’d get at least a warm cell and was guaranteed at least one bowl of something that couldn’t be any worse than what he’d been eating since he arrived in the province, Nordic cuisine being what it was - didn’t seem all that bad. Clearly the woman was not so accustomed to squalor.

He elected to ignore the quip at his line of work - he didn’t expect her to understand the key role he played in the Tamrielic economy - and just flashed her a devilish grin. “It would be my inestimable pleasure, my dear lady”, he said, chuckling to himself. With that, he began tapping on the floor with the heel of his boot, trying to find that sweet metallic clang that indicated the presence of a loose stone or, with any luck, a trap door. Usually there was somewhere to throw bodies in these barbaric provinces. His questing heel having found its mark, Claudius began shuffling around to grab the slab of clay and, with a flourish, stretched his chains to their limit and smashed them against it, splitting them with a clang that echoed in the cell. 

“It’s quite easy when you get the right wrist movement. Your turn!”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Claudius Felis reads the classic Tamrielic novella, Thief of Virtue, in fond recollection of his introduction to highway robbery.

[brielleroux-archive-blog]

This doesn’t surprise her. These past months have been busy - patients to treat and a sudden increase in potion orders. There hasn’t been time for her to mingle with visitors.

Instead of offering a long and silly explanation, she laughed and said, “I doubt that. I haven’t had time to visit those who come to the temple.” She frowned. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

“No, I was just finishing.” He rose from his prostrate position and delicately removed a glove before extending a hand.

“My name is Claudius,” he said with a lopsided grin that he probably thought was charming. “I’m new to Skyrim.”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

King John; Shakespeare (1519)

[ironpoison]

Mask

[littlecollectionist-deactivated]

“I can see that now” Lass examined the wallet with disappointment written all over her face. She was expecting a little more money, perhaps a gem or two, but now she was empty handed and caught as well “I am surprised”

She returned the wallet with a slight smirk “I am, more than surprised, impressed. Not many people can feel my silk touch when it comes to their money. Anyway, congratulations. I think it’s time for you to call the guards and for me to run”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

“Thank you,” he said, with an air of smugness, plucking the purse from the girl’s hand and tucking it - more securely this time - back into his belt. 

“When you’ve been robbed as many times as I have, you start to notice the little things.” Claudius flashed her a lopsided grin and looked around to see if anyone had taken any notice of them. With no one in sight, he leaned in closer.

“I wouldn’t dream of calling anyone. I’ve been in your position before,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink. “Listen - if you’re ever in Solitude, look me up. I’d be very interested in seeing what you’ve managed to pilfer.” He smiled warmly, patted the girl on the shoulder, and slipped back onto the pathway - keeping one hand on his sword-hilt.

[snow-ashes-and-sand]

Maeva smiled. “My mother’s line were linked to the Jarls of Windhelm, close enough that my mother brought it up at every opportunity, but not enough for us to have any nice title, or even any good heirlooms. I was constantly being told that I needed to make my family proud. In the end, this happened,” she pointed to the deep scars on her face, “and my mother practically disowned me. She said I would never get a good marriage with my face ruined. I still resent her for that.” She said, frowning towards the end. 

“My father no longer practices, I’m afraid. He passed away many years ago. The business he started is still in operation, and I plan to purchase it back one day, once I get enough money. I’ve found it hard to find honest employment with one working arm and a steel leg. I have a little saved from my… Well, personal services, though, which I should be able to build on.” She saw his gaze turn to the pile of trinkets. 

“What are those?” She asked.

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Claudius’ expression faltered and a slight blush crossed his cheeks. “Oh, I, er.. I’m sorry,” he stammered, then tried to change the subject as quickly as possible to avert attention from his faux-pas.

"I know all about family duty. My mother always used to say that I would be a great disappointment and that she wished my brother had been born first. Can’t say I blame her.” He looked down at himself and then around the little shack, and briefly wondered what his brother was doing now. Probably making pots of money with the East Empire Company or something. It had almost worked out as his mother had wanted, then. “If it’s any consolation, I think you are quite beautiful,” he said with a grin. 

“I’m sure she’ll regret losing you when you’re supplying fine jewels to the nobility. I’m something of a connoisseur when it comes to pretty things.” He turned to look at his hoard, the glinting gold and glittering diamonds lighting up his face with an avaricious shimmer. “These are a few pieces I’ve collected over the years.” Again, it wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the entire truth. 

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

ooc; is there a consensus on the prevalence of magic in the ES universe? Like, can everyone perform it, or is it just a select ordained few?

[whatdosendhelp]

In the Markets of Sentinel~

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

@brielleroux

“I haven’t seen you here before.” Claudius looked up from his prayer, smiling characteristically warmly at the Breton girl. “Perhaps that means I haven’t been offering my praise to Lady Mara enough.”

[snow-ashes-and-sand]

“I remember my first long march. There was more marching and practicing drill than actually fighting, and our food was very plain. Not to mention we had little time to bathe so we all smelt terrible. It certainly wasn’t as glamorous as the songs make it sound, but I guess we were all doing it for a good reason.” She rubbed her bruised head, as though trying to remember something. “I met a man named Cassius once. The fellow I met was an archer, and he had the most remarkable hair. It was naturally in ringlets, and very shiny. Everyone was jealous of his hair, and his aristocratic nose.” She smiled.

“The Reach is nice, if you don’t get attacked. I have enough resemblance to my Reachman father that few people bother me, and my usual attire there is traditional Reachwoman’s clothing, which helps. The scenery is great, and the Dwemer ruins are interesting, if dangerous. Markarth is… It is sort of like the ruins. Interesting, but you might get killed. It is also a terrible place to go if you don’t like juniper. Everything is flavoured with juniper berries. I doubt that the walls are completely impenetrable, but it seems as though getting past them could be an issue for an army.” Maeva shrugged.

“So, what do you do? Let me guess, from those nice clothes you’re an aristocrat of some sort. My father was a jeweller, and I often saw aristocrats come into his workshop. He was the famous Tholvald of Windhelm, one of the most well-known jewellers on Nirn.”

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

Claudius’ mouth lifted on one side, turning his naive smile into a lopsided grin. He recognised the woman’s story, of arduous marching and badly-made food; even when on manouevers in the rich agricultural heartland of Cyrodiil, where the sun fed the fruited vines and the Niben river made everything lush and green, the bread was hard and the meat was salted like fish from Dawnstar. At least in the officer’s tents the stench of unwashed soldiers was masked by perfumes and the smell of parchment and ink. The nostalgic thought wasn’t in his head for long before it was snatched away by Maeva’s recollections of her Cassius, however; Claudius raised an eyebrow, allowing himself a brief moment of introspection... then spoke up with a cheerful tone, trying not to acknowledge the thought he had had.

“I used to p-” there was a brief, almost imperceptible pause in the sentence as Claudius caught himself. “-run through the countryside of the Reach, but yes, it’s not the best place if you can only fight when someone agrees to Countess of Skingrad’s Rules.” He grinned, casting a brief glance at the golden cup-hilt rapier on the table as if to make sure it was still there. “In Cyrodiil, you have to import juniper. The sailors in Anvil used to leave the inns reeking of juniper.” A genuine smile, tinged with sadness, spread across his face, brightening it as the boy remembered long summer evenings with countless chilled glasses of gin, staring out from his balcony over the Abecean sea. The sting of Skyrim’s wind brought him back into the moment, and he offered an embarrassed smirk in answer to the question, looking down at his tunic of fine silks and furs, embroidered with tarnished gold wire and pretty jewellery that probably cost more than everything Maeva was wearing on their own. 

“I am the Viscount Anvil,” Claudius said with a certain air of imperial smugness. He hadn’t lied - technically speaking, he still was the viscount - but the words felt alien and unwelcome in his mouth. It felt good to say them again, and he felt himself subconsciously adopting a noble posture with his chest stuck out and head tilted imperiously upwards, but in Skyrim, where nobility was decided by valour in battle, Claudius was aristocratically bankrupt as well as just generally bankrupt. His tunic was old and worn, his cloak was threadbare, the few jewels he had were those that were too sentimental to be sold off. “I’ve not heard of your father, though - but then again, I never had cause to. I inherited most of my jewels and I felt obliged to support the craftsmen in Anvil. Does your father still practise? I’m always keen to acquire more pretty baubles.” He instantly regretted saying so, and cast a lingering look at the small pile of valuables in the corner, mentally estimating its value.

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

*bombed out of his skull on alto wine*

[hyperallergic]

Rings are one of the most personal and oldest human adornments, evolving in complexity with metalwork techniques and the gemstone trade. Treasures and Talismans: Rings from the Griffin Collection now at the Cloisters branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art explores over 50 examples of rings from antiquity to the Renaissance, and their significance in love, devotion, and remembering mortality.

The Meaning of the Ring, from Memento Mori to Marriage

[yourseptimsoryourlife]

snow-ashes-and-sand:

Maeva was surprised that the stranger was interested in hearing her war stories. There were so many other veterans out there with much more interesting tales to tell. When she thought about it properly, though, her stories weren’t that boring. 

“I was at the Battle of the Red Ring too. I had a few close calls there, but luckily I escaped unharmed. My century was practically decimated, however. My century was made up of volunteers from in and around the Windhelm area. I was in a tent party with my mother, my brother and several of my neighbours. I was the youngest of them all. As far as I’ve been told, I was the youngest soldier to serve in the Great War, as in, in the whole legion. The oldest was a Dunmer but I don’t remember how old they were. Pray tell, what was your father’s name? I may have met him at some point.” She too sat cross-legged, excited to finally have someone to listen to her war stories.

“My military days are long over now. Between the steel leg and paralysed arm, I won’t be returning to the battlefield in any professional capacity any time soon. I still enjoy a good punch-up, however. I started young and I intend to finish old. I can’t count how many black eyes I’ve given, or how many I’ve got. One of the most satisfying was punching out a Stormcloak soldier who told me some disgusting lies about the Reachmen.”

Claudius looked bright-eyed and naive at the warrior-woman, practically rocking back and forth with excitement. Then the lines of age crossed his face, transforming the shiny, youthful grin into a stretched, haggard frown. He opened his mouth ever so slightly, the pink tip of his tongue tracing a line across his bottom lip. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about swapping stories - his father was a noble and valiant man (as far as he was aware) and talking about him always stained Claudius’ ego with a tint of inadequacy. “Cassius,” he finally said, rather more meekly than he had been speaking previously. A moment’s repose, and then he looked up again.

“Tell me about the Reach. I’ve only ever been there once, and I never got to visit Markarth.” More specifically, he’d spent a few weeks harassing caravans until the Forsworn had started beating him to it. “Are the walls as impregnable as they say?”

[fenrirtevi-moved]

This has been on my mind for long but I’m gonna do this - please reblog this if you’re comfortable with pre-establishing relationships. I do not mean “met at the grocery store two weeks ago” or “have a common friend”, but rather stuff like “have been best friends since kindergrden”, “go for a beer every friday”, “friends with benefits”, “dated in highschool”, “hate each other’s guts because -insert reason-”  etc. Something meaningful (but not necessarily shippy) and I mean with muns/characters you have not interacted with, because I cannot believe I am the only one who prefers jumping right into the heart of the human interaction