"Hmn?" Sheogorath examines the bottle with a critical eye, slowly lifting it in front of him before giving an ever-suffering sigh. "Ah. Itâll do, lad. But next time, proper tears. Ye could wring âem loose yerself, Iâm sure." His grin turns briefly wicked, sharp eyes turning on the Dunmer, almost seeing through him. âYe charmer. Oh, the ladies of Bliss arenât the type tâcry and moan and wail âcos ye climbed into anotherâs bed, but here!â
A mighty crunch is heard as Sheogorath bites into the neck of the bottle, severing it cleanly and swallowing the length as easily as one would the alcohol inside. A swig of the beer and he makes a face, as though it tastes somehow sour.
"Much more sensitive, the ladies of Nirn. And the Moonshadow! I rain over their pretty little celebration of Azura, and they all hate me fer it! Little minxes!â
A feeling of dread crept up Aydel's spine a moment before his 'customer' brought the bottle to his lips, and turned into a brief bout of panic as the Prince bit the glass clean as if it had been bread.
The identity of the stranger couldn't have been made clearer, but the shifting colors of his eyes confirmed it all the more. Golden amber mixed with a dark, starless sky, the purple of the slowly moving clouds of the Shivering Isles. An avatar of Sheogorath was standing right in front of him, discussing women. What he was doing here on Nirn, and specifically HERE, talking to him, he didn't know, but Aydel knew better than to try and guess Sheogorath's intentions. The maddest of madmen was clear and logical compared to the Daedra.
"By She.... Azura's underpants." He breathed, stopping himself. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to talk about the underpants of Sheogorath in presence of 'the Stuff' itself. "If it isn't old Sheogorath...."
Aydel didn't know what to say, or do. He knew himself to be a poor subject. Oh, sure, he had enjoyed Mania as long as he had been there, and had no qualm making the occasionnal ritual to restock his supplies of Manian ingredients.. But could he call Sheogorath his 'Lord'? He hadn't stayed in mania that long, and he knew his very own Sister was probably much more favoured by the Mad God himself. She had stayed in Dementia far longer than he had.
"Well, I suppose there's a number of tears to be collected around Solitude." Aydel started carefully, hands on the counter. "Women from Nirn -are- rather sensitive after all."
As threatening as the presence of the most unpredictable of the Princes was, the Dunmer couldn't help but ffeel something within him resonnate. Sheogorath brought with him a piece of Mania that still rung a bell in Aydel's very being. He had paintings and crystals and ingredients in this very building that echoed the same tune, and in a way, it felt... Soothing. Like a craving for a sweet pipe of dangerous mushrooms, the thrill of passing right next to the sleeping noble you were just robbing...
"What's bringing you here, my Lord?" Aydel heard himself ask, relaxing a little, though still wary. "On your way to visit the Blue Palace? I'm afraid your favourite Septim's not exactly there anymore."
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Ship with canon character - Aydel and Methredhel. No ties, no promises just a business relationship with benefits at the beginning which grows into frienship through time?
AHAH
Of course youâd bring that up =D
Yeah, Aydel did grow fond of Methredel, and considers her one of his most trusted friends among the Thieves Guild. I did imagine that she would get used to his attitude, and probably end up in a tight friendship with the occasionnal benefit. Their interactions quickly became the closest to a relationship Aydel could be into. There could even have been a baby in that story, if not for mishaps.
Iâm not quite sure I want it to be 100% canon for this blog, but then again, I always really liked those two together, and I donât think there are many Methredel roleplayers around here. =I I just quickly shy away from developping headcanons for characters that arenât mine, and I know âmyâ version of Methredel might not be entirely true to the one in the game. (But itâs also true that most NPCs in Oblivion donât have much in the way of detailed personalities. =I )
This is in Bravil that Aydel truly started to work on his set of skills. He developped what he had learned of destructive magic as best he could and trained with different kinds of blades at the local Fighters guild, becoming skilled enough with daggers and swords of average length to handle himself.
More importantly, he gradually made some contacts who introduced him to the art of discretion, dodging, lockpicking and pickpocketing. By night, he would gladly steal some coins from a nobleâs purse, or break into a shop to steal some common loot to sell. Within a few years, he could hold his own against some of the most skilled thieves and acrobats of the town. He also came to refer to Nocturnal, like many among the Thieves Guild members,
.
As time passed, Aydel became a handsome, charismatic Dunmer, and more importantly a thief addicted to his 'hobby'. Of course, his illegal activities left some marks, and his sense of morality grew all the more unstable. At first stealing out of necessity, the high he got from lurking in the shadows gradually became the main reason behind his nocturnal âexpeditionsâ. His father and mother knew the gold he brought home couldn't only come from an honnest job, but nevertheless decided to trust their son and turn a blind eye.
He also became what one would call either a âDon Juanâ or a âpervertâ. He prefers to qualify himself as an âhedonistâ and a âgentlemerâ. Regardless of the appelation, he learned how to seduce women and use his charisma to his advantage. Maybe not always wisely, but still. Truth be told, this hedonistic way of life might have helped him in keeping him relatively stable mentally.
.
Aydel left Bravil at the age of 18, as the town werenât enough anymore as a âplaygroundâ. He was looking for more fun, more experience, more action, and also, letâs be honnest, more women. Before leaving, he gave all the gold he had accumulated over the years to his family, and swore to his father that he would have his store back. He headed for the Imperial City, at this time still the mighty capital of the Empire, and an ideal location for a thief. With what he owned, he bought himself a small shack on the docks of the Imperial City, not far from the most influent members of the local Thieves Guild, and put his skill to test under their orders.
.
Most of his activities consisted of burglaries, breaking in and out of a house with as much loot as he could, Aydel proving at the time that his pickpocketing capacities were lacking. He was much better at crawling in the dark, find good hiding spots, and picking locks than anything. His charsima helped him on a few occasions, although his braggings would be far from reality. Rich women do not tend to bed everysingle handsome burglar in their houses.
While most of his jobs ended up being rather succesful, his few failures soon earned him the attention of the Watch, due to his easily recognizable features. On many occasions, he had to pull strings and ask for favors from contacts within th Guild, for even if they had their ways of handling paperwork to cancel bounties, his appearance was enough for some guards to recognize him, and the whole process therefore needed something more akin to actively cleaning his name. Despiteproving to be very irritating for the contacts involved, Aydel still learned a lot from those repeated experiences on the ways Imperial bureaucracy worked.
It is said he joined the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood, but he continues to this day to deny any real affiliation, or any affiliation at all considering the interlocutor.
How do you deal with rowdy patrons? Do you take care of them yourself, or do you have someone else perform that task?
"Ah! Not most of the time, no." He nods toward the large Orc looking awfully bored, leaning against a wall. "Or I would have hired this guy for nothing. Most of the time, heâs enough."
He smiles, producing a small flame in his lifted palm. âIt does happen, however. Usually works pretty nicely. Most patrons canât really handle fire magic, and an ugly scar can happen very quickly. But I count the number of times I had to really get angry on my hands.â
He seems to think about it, considering said hands. âOkay, not really, you might need to add my eleventh extra âfingerâ.â
"HAH! Yeah, there is that too. But can I honestly be blamed for that?" He laughs, shaking his head and shrugging, arms open as a sign of honesty. "Taken or not, I do enjoy having such a lovely sight in my tavern. And Iâm not talking about the ring."
He stops a moment, frowning and caressing his beard as he considers something. âThough you DO cost me in discounts. Hmm⌠What to choose, what to choose?â
"Oh, this?" She glances at her ring, then back at him. Tilting her head a moment, she leans forward, one hand coming up to twine his beard around her finger. "It isnât official. Iâm just saying.â
"Oh, really now?" the Mer retorts with a smirk, creases around his eyes and a dimple showing on his right cheek. "By Aura's underwear, isn't that interesting? It's not exactly common to find anyone in this province with two partners already, and on top of that they didn't make anything official. Well well."
His grins widens all the more as he leans in, close to Sesuna's ear, before whispering as seriously as he can "You're part of a sect or something? It's okay, you can tell me of the virginsyou sacrifice and all that stuff."
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Thavrin had a lot of making-up to do, particularly regarding Kade, and he could think of only one way to do so: buy a lot of mead. After a day or two's journey he found himself in Solitude, standing in the doorway of the Twin Jugs. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Barmaids in short skirts? Exceptionally seasoned chicken wings? At the very least there would be mead, and that mead would be good enough to use as a peace offering...
At least Thavrin wasnât met with barmaid in short skirts, but the waitresses and waiters certainly were at their advantages in their outfits, rivalling with any good Nord inn.
The place offered a pleasnt contrast with the chill air of Solitude, roaring fires warming up the ambiant air, filled with music, chatter, and soft colored lights.
Right in front of Thavrin, on the far side of the room, was the bar proper, a large counter behind which stood a Dunmer with unusually long ears, pouring a dark purple, think liquid to a skeptical Nord.
"Youâll see, that kicks a different kind of punch than your ale." He chuckled, before turning his attention to the Bosmer who had just walked in.
There was nothing like a cold and snowy day over Solitude to draw people in. The climate usually wasn't all that bad, but Aydel had, by then, accepted as a fact that there was no portion of Skyrim that would ever avoid terrible weather and bitter, biting cold. A good reason why he had insisted on getting two fireplaces in the main room, at least. Dunmers just weren't built to live in the cold.
Well, he guessed it didn't apply to those born in Windhelm or something.
Wiping his forehead, Aydel put the lid of a now empty crate back on, having placed the bottles and cups it contained on the shelves where they belonged. Turning around, he took a satisfied glance at the room, enjoying the sight.
Ah yes. There was nothing like having clients coming in. Or, he guessed there was a number of things just as enjoyable, but he did not feel like arguing with himself.
The main doors opened just long enough to let another customer in, an icy draft rushing in just as quickly as the small Breton woman.
He paid no mind at first, quickly considering one of the busty waitress walking around with a plate of drinks, and preparing to return to the couple at the bar. A funny duo, those two, in the middle of narrating their great mudcrab hunt.
Something, however, felt wrong and held him back, his gaze returning to the Breton.
Small, with dark curly hair, there was something about her face that seemed familiar. He squinted, his red eyes following her as Aydel stroke his beard. He had an awful feeling of having seen that woman before, although certainly not here in Solitude. But why?
The tavern was quiet, this time of the day. Most of the folk in Solitude had eaten by now, those choosing the Twin Jugs having left some time ago, and it was too early yet for most to finish the daily work and head for a tavern to find a comforting pint.
Profiting from that moment of relative calm, Aydel had taken a seat close the the fireplace, relaxing. It was one of the most popular table, and there was no doubt as to why. Along with the proximity of the fire, it was close to the bar, relatively hidden thanks to the stairs, and Aydel had made that small corner all the more comfortable by replacing the chairs with seats and adding a few extra crystals on the walls. Whenever he had the leisure to sit there, it was certain he would take the opportunity.
Sighing in satisfaction, he closed his eyes and brought a cup to his lips, taking the time to smell and savour the deep aroma of the stoneflower infusion before taking a sip. For a moment, he found himself back by lake Masobi, diving in the clear waters butt first, nearly bumping in his laughing sister. He saw himself pull himself out, shivering as he hurried to the stone bench outside their home, where towels and steaming cups of tea awaited.
It was such a shame, he thought while letting the warmth of the cup seep in his hands, desĂŽte not actually feeling the coldness of the wind. Ingredients from Morrowind were so expensive to import, even considering how much cheaper it was here in Skyrim. The destruction of Vvardenfell and a large portion of Morrowind all those years ago had, rather obviously, ruined a good portion of the local products, and even after all this time and having a lot of it regrow, things were simply not the same. Naturally, the relative rarity wasn't the only reason, as Morrowind's economy had been awfully impacted by the event, and had shifted tremendously. Still, as expensive as it was, he could only find such expense worth every septim, if it meant revisiting the tastes and smells of his childhood. A tiny piece of home, in a way.
Although maybe the "revisits" themselves were possibly tied to the fraction of hydnum he had added to the mix.
Opening his eyes, Aydel slowly glanced around the large room. There was not a soul waiting at the bar, while a few Nords were sitting at a table in front of the scene on the other side of the room, eating, drinking, discussing, while Stalgard was busy reciting an old, well appreciated epic about old heroes of Solitude. A couple of them had trouble keeping their eyes of the waitress bringing their orders, the others enjoying the respite before the evening.
The Dunmer smiled as he made himself comfortable once again, returning to his tea. He certainly had nothing to complain about. Maybe later on he'd grab his coat and go have a walk. After all, with all those buxom Nord women, Solitude was hardly a place to feel alone.
