#morrowindroleplay

“Well met, hunter.”

   ☽ Independent Hircine RP Blog for the Elder Scrolls Series    ☽ 10+ Years RP Experience    ☽ Will contain adult themes and triggering content (only photos will be tagged, text will be under read mores)  View at own risk.    ☽ Mun is 21+ Years Old

Meanwhile, a man clad in black had been wandering the city of Vivec for a lot longer than he would have liked. The directions he was given wasn't exactly clear on who the informant was, surely they wouldn't expect the informant wouldn't just yell at him on the street? "Hey! You! Yeah You!"

Seems he was proven wrong once more. "Uh, are you-" "The Informant? Yeah that's me." He was a tad taken back by the general audacity displayed by this informant, "Aren't you supposed to be a bit more under the table than this?"

The Informant dwelled on the question for a truly long 3 seconds before deciding, "Nah, this is way easier. Lets me tell you that you're supposed to protect Sick Nasty quick-" The Agent quickly cupped his hand over her mouth, "Don't tell the entire world who I'm supposed to protect. Just hand me the note." The Informant slid the Agent the note, his hand still pressed firmly over her mouth. He pocketed it, slowly slipped his hand away and ran off before she could blow his cover any more than she already had. Getting as far away as possible, the Agent pulled the note out of his pocket and began reading it. Unconciously processing the usual jargon he's used to reading, but one thing caught his attention. One thing he had to look over and over, out of pure bewilderment at the subject he was hired to protect;

".....Sick Nasty?" BACK IN SEYDA NEEN!

Sick Nasty was carefully observing every board around him, taking into account the weather, time, date, the geography of the surrounding ares in Vvardenfell, how long it would take him to travel to each area and so forth. That was, until he took a step back, surveyed the boards in front of him and came to the startling realization; "All these signs have scribbles on them!" "They're all the same! Wiggidy Whack!" Sick Nasty had to appreciate such dedication to work and authenicity the maker had to have put into making each sign the exact same. "It would seem these boards are telling me to follow my heart! That's funky poetry right there." Sick Nasty said as he wiped a single tear from his eye.

Sick Nasty did as the signs told him to do, following his own path and soul before he heard a voice shouting at the distance. Was it the people of Seyda Neen cheering him on for choosing his own life instead of following the default path laid before him? "Outlander! Why walk when you can ride?"

Oh, of course, it seems the stormy night is the poor night to innovate. Oh well, he'd see what was wanted of him anyway. He approached the woman, "What's the haps, paps?"

"We make the trip just for you, same low price! Seat yourself in the slit strider and we can travel wherever you want in mere minutes to hours!" Sick Nasty leaned his head to the left and saw the gargantuan beast, standing there with what he assumed were its arms out, as if to say "Grr, prepare to die."

"No way lady, there is no way I'm setting foot on that death trap. If I can dance for 10 hours straight than I'm sure I can walk just fine." With that, he moonwalked away. "Time to ditch this crazy party and find a happening town around here." Sick Nasty said before departing Seyda Neen to parts unknown.

"How groovy!" Sick Nasty said as he stepped off the boat and into the small town of Seyda Neen, "Finally in the funkiest province in the world; Morrowind." With almost 4000 gold coins in his pockets, Sick Nasty had one goal in mind from the second he set sail for Morrowind; "I shall become the greatest dancer in Morrowind!" He had already conquered dancing in Cyrodill so Vvardenfall was the next logical step in his two-step takeover. As rain pelted his head, Sick Nasty looked to the grey skies and said, "I need to find a place to catch some funky z's it seems!" But as he was looking up, a deep vibrating voice took him by surprise, "You must be new here, we're the welcoming committee. I'm Crazy Legs Johnson and this is my girlfriend Shania."

Sick Nasty looked down to see an elf with a misshapen brow, lips pursed, and nose risen, wearing what Sick Nasty would describe as "poistively sick threads" while his girlfriend wore a scowl and clothing he'd describe as "positively square!"

"Shiggy Diggy! You sure caught me off guard, you must have sneaky feet to catch Sick Nasty off guard. Nice to meet you Crazy Legs."

"Its why they call me Crazy Legs Johnson, Shania here is the one who usually gives advice to travellers though, Shania take it away."

"These parts of Vvardenfell are wicked and cursed, only a fool would dare venture forth into the pit of hell that resides outside this world. I can read your destiny and the book ends with the firey inferno of death that will overcome you and everything you've ever held near and dear, you may call yourself Sick Nasty but the sickest things have yet to even come forth." "Ain't she wicked?" Crazy Legs added as Shania finished. "Wicked as hell!" Sick Nasty said, missing her entire speech altogether, "I dig your freaky style Shania, you have an acid-singed tougnue and I can dig it." "You ignorant cretin." Sick Nasty began shuffling where he stood, "Damn! You spit hot fire! Crazy Legs you know how to pick em!"

Stopping mid-shuffle, Sick Nasty turned to Crazy Legs, "Crazy Legs, I like your crazy style, how about you and me team up and take the world of dancing by storm? I could use a partner in crime and I've got the time." "As funky as that sounds, my life is here in Seyda Neen, holding this burning torch in the middle of a rainstorm. It's what I live for, and what I'll die for." "No problemo," Sick nasty said, shooting finger guns at Crazy Legs, "Perhaps we'll meet up again sometime in the freaky future." "When we meet up it will be in the plains of Oblivion." Shania interjected. "Hot damn you've got a way with words! Later skaters!" Spinning 360 degrees, Sick Nasty departed, waving behind him to the two funky patrons who welcomed him to the land of Morrowind.

Covering his face from the rain, Sick Nasty began to survey his surroundings, searching for a place he could rest his weary head. Shania's wicked words of wickedry really threw him for a spin!

Approaching a guard he said, "My main man, I'm on a hunt for a place I can catch some Z's! You know a place like that?" The guard, somehow ignoring the fact that Sick Nasty was doing the running man as he spoke to him said, "Well there good citizen, the only places available here are those wooden shacks back there," he began looking at Sick Nasty's outfit, "But juding by your clothes I would assume you're quite affluent. You should head towards Balmora for a place to stay." "Well you can never judge a book by its cover," Sick Nasty said, still doing the running man, "Let me look at this shiggy-shacks and see what's in store!"

As Sick Nasty looked at the shacks, something occured to him; "These are very un-funky! I can't dig here!" Sick Nasty leaned backwords to look at the guard, "Which way to Balmora my brotha?" The Guard pointed east and Sick Nasty was on his way.