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PurpleBox
Quite on the Outside, a raging storm Inside.
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#4
Old 10-21-2017, 09:20 PM

Skyrim was a harsh land, many of the province’s holds where in perpetual winter and cold, even in the warmer months. Ophelia had been here for two years. Looking for her brother and escaping her family’s plans to marry her off just to expand their influence. Two years ago the Breton with hair like orange fire had been a skinny toothpick who could barely lift a sword properly to defend herself, now after having joined the Companions of Whiterun the Breton was adept in the use of Bow’s and her short sword, both weapons strapped to some part of her body.

At the moment Ophelia had finished up a job of clearing out some wolves for a local farmer who had lost some of his stock to the animals. It was a good hunt, though for Ophelia a little bitter sweet considering the pack she had killed reminded her in a way of her new family among the Companions. “Alea would have enjoyed this hunt.” The orange haired Breton sighed to herself as she got closer to the small village of Helgen. She could sell the pelts she’d striped from the wolves for some extra gold at their inn or shops.

As she come into Helgen the orange haired Breton had noticed the long detail of Imperials and carts of prisoners… all in the colors of the Stormcloaks apparently...That set her on edge but she kept her lips sealed tightly as she kept out of their way.
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In the shadows behind the Inn inside of Helgen sat a silent thief who was counting the gold he’d managed to pick pocket today. As well as some ingots he’s managed to swipe from the local trader shop, all in all a good haul for the mute thief. ‘Corroc my man you have done well. This should be enough for my share of the haul back in the Ratway… I can’t wait to get back home.’ Corroc The Silent thought with a grin on his pale face.

The black haired thief was not called The Silent for his ability to move undetected, it was because he didn’t speak. Many in the Guild thought he just chose to let his actions speak for him, but Brynolf knew better, after wrestling the tale of the scar across Crorroc’s neck out of the dark haired Breton thief. As Corroc moved his head to the side his earrings clinked together making the thief let out a soundless chuckle. Most of his hair covered his left eye and let he’d never missed a shot with his bow or hsi daggers.

As he pocketed his loot and headed out of the shadows he noticed a long convoy coming into Helgen. ‘Dam imperials… looks like i should have left sooner… now I’ll have to wait till they leave…’ he thought bitterly as he leaned himself up against the side of the Inn. Looking like any other local. His Guild leathers buried deep in his pack for safe keeping and anonymity.


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