A Drink at The Feed Bag (Private)

[Savverz]

A 1-on-1 RP between me and Lep, okies? Well, I suppose we could accept new RPers if they ask both of us (preferably over PM) for permission first... What does you think, Lep?

Takes place in The Feed Bag in the Imperial City, where my oblivion characters will be popping in and out occasionally, and maybe even a few of my Morrowind characters such as Riley the depressed Guar-breeding scholar. XD

The form...

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Looks: (Feel free to use screenshots or drawings)
Personality:
Class:
Other:

My charries. ;D

Name: Francois Lefaure
Age: Eh, early 20's, I'd say.
Gender: Male
Looks: Screenie: Not much to see... He's really short, though. Really short. Don't make fun of his height (or lack thereof-*is maul'd*) or YOU'LL get bent outta shape, if you know what I mean.
Personality: A real tomcat, he'll chase after any woman he meets, whether they like it or not, sometimes. He loves a good joke, but unfortunatly for his drinking buddies he couldn't tell a good joke if his life depended on it. (Which really happened once, and the baddie took so much pity on Francois and his terrible joke-telling he let him go with a slap on the wrist. XD)
Class: Thief/Bandit/Dashing Rogue (C'mon, you all know that guy was dashing, admit it!)
Other: Addictions? Skooma, Moonsugar, Tobacco, Women... You get the point. He tends to chase small flying insects like a housecat when he runs out of things (or women ) to do.

Er... Yeah...

----

"Ah! Fine stuff there, my good sir! How 'bout another round for all the patrons, on me!" He announced, somewhat loudly. All the patrons cheered and flocked to the counter while Francois paid for the drinks, it was expensive, but all the patrons certainly seemed happier. "What a fine lad, so generous! Cheers for the elf!" A nord cheered before glugging his drink. Francois' ears fidgeted a bit at the 'elf' comment. "I'm a khajiit, not an elf..." He mumbled under his breath before taking a swig of his drink the barkeep had just set down.

A shapely young red-headed breton stepped over to the counter and took a seat to the left of Francois. "My my, that was quite expensive... No offense, but you don't look like the rich kind of fellow... How does someone like you get enough to treat the dozens of fellows in here to such fine wines?" She asked, looking into Francois' slightly crossed golden eyes, it was obvious he was becoming somewhat intoxicated. "Why, I'm just a commoner, such as you, fine lass... I work hard, I travel from town to town, taking whatever job I can. Of course, I have made a good bit in the Arena, but I try to avoid that place now... Last battle didn't go as well as planned. But the healer there was quite good, fixed me up reeaal well." He said, trying not to hiccup.

"Oooh, a fighter in the arena! How amazing! What's your name? Can't say I've seen you fight before..." She asked, leaning a bit closer to Francois. He grinned as he wrapped an arm around her waist and gesturing with his other. "Francois Lefaure, scourge of the nobles of Vvardenfell, and now of the nobles of Cyrodiil. Ha ha! I can't quite remember my rank, somewhere around Brawler, I think. Oh hey, do you have any siblings? Particularly female ones?" He asked with a rather mischievous smile. "I'm an only child." She said. A ghost of a frown appeared on Francois' lips, but the mischievous smile soon returned. "Shame. Anyway, how about I tell you about the time I was travelling to Suran..." He went on to tell the breton all about a rather exciting, though obviously over-exaggerated tale about Francois' trip to Suran from Balmora, which involved cliff-racer lords, flesh golems, Dagoths, and incredibly attractive women, of course.

(Meh, can't think of much...)

[Leporidae]

Name: Silvester (Last name unknown)
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Looks: (I'll give you screenshots later, after I finish this post)
Personality: (I don't want to write this out. I want you to find out later on ;)
Class: Paladin-Wannabe

(Morrowind Stat:

Major: Long Blade, Blunt, Medium Armor, Restoration, Block
Minor: Heavy Armor, Sneak, Security, Alteration, Alchemy

Oblivion Stat:

Skills: Heavy Armor, Blade, Blunt, Block, Restoration, Sneak, Alteration

Birthsign (Applies to both games): The Shadow)
Other: He holds the Amulet of Kings (Unless Maraha rejects to this idea)


The floor was cold, very cold. But, then again, cells were always cold in Cyrodill.

Silvester was with his friend, Argie-Dar, when he dared him to grab the vase in the Septim Hotel. He soon found that the people don't take kindly of people touching their stuff, even for a brief moment.

Silvester walked up to the door to his cell. A dunmer sat across from him, and began taunting him.

"Oh, look, an Imperial in the Imperial Pris-"

"HEY! I'm NOT a Imperial! I'm a Khajiit! See?"

Silvester turned part-way around, and wiggled his tail. Valen just smiled, and just taunted him some more.

"Oh! I see! Your not a Imperial! Just a freak of nature. Your lucky your still alive, er, whatever you are. I heard that the guards don't take very kindly to freaks like you."

Silvester scowled and hissed at the Dunmer. He wasn't liking his attitude one bit.

"Oh yea? Well you aren't very nice at all, Mea- . . . What was that sound?"

"It sounds like the guards are coming . . . for you! Mwuhahahaha!"

The Valen walked off into the back of his cell, as to not be seen. The emperor and three trustworthy blades walked to Silvester's cell. Silvester backed off, and his behind his table. The blades could still see him, however.

"What is this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits!"

"A usual mix-up with the watch, I-"

"Nevermind, get that gate open. Step back prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!"

Silvester whimpered, going back into view. He walked to the back of the wall, covering his face with his hands.

"Please, don't hurt me!"

The foursome walked into the cell, and closed the door behind them. Uriel Septim's face grew awe, and he approached the young Silvester.

"Let me see your face."

Silvester lowered his hand,but arched even closer to the wall. Uriel was even more in shock then before.

"Your the one from my dreams! Then the stars were right, this is the day . . ."

---------------------------------

A troubled face entered the Feed Bag. He looked fairly poor, wearing a olive shirt, sack pants, leather boots, and a pack burdened with loot from the sewers. Silvester took the seat next to Fran. He sighed, and hanged his head. He couldn't get over the shock, and was slowly breaking down into madness right then and there. He was trembling non-stop, and slowly began to lean towards Fran.

[Savverz]

"... and that was the last of the daedric seducers. Shame, really. They were so beautiful, but anything that tries to rip my heart out tends to really disturb me, and-..." Francois hesitated when he noticed Silvester leaning closer to him. "E... excuse me?" He looked at Silvester and almost felt sorry for the guy, he looked like he wasn't having a very good day. "Oh, sorry if I sounded a bit rude, how about some ale? They've got might fine wine here to-... I say! Is that a tail? And yet you look... Oh my, are you an Ohmes-Raht to? I may not look like it," He said gesturing to his tailless bottom. "...but I am indeed a khajiit. You know what, there's actually a long story behind my lack of a tail. And an eye. And a... you know what, let's not talk about that just yet... Ahem, uhm... More wine, please?" He asked before he set a small bag of gold on the counter before him. The bartender just set a whole bottle of wine before Francois and went back to serving the other patrons.

Francois looked the bottle over and grinned. "Oooh, some of Tamika's stuff, good good! This is some of the best there is, kid. Oh, speaking of which, what's your name?" He asked, switching his gaze from the bottle to Silvester. "I'm Francois Lefaure, batty bandit and dashing rogue, some tend to call me. Ha! Dashing rogue is more like it!" He laughed before removing the cork from the bottle with his claws. "Would you like some?"

[Leporidae]

Silvester perked his head up, and looked at Fran. "Yes. I am a Ohmes-Rhat. I thought I was the only one in Cyrodill. I never saw one before, other then myself."

Silvester took a quick look around the bar. Patrons everywhere, talking and enjoying their meals. He couldn't help but feel like he's a alien on another planet.

". . . Oh yea! I'm Silvester. Just Silvester. Don't have a last name. So, how did you loose your tail? Looks painful."

Silvester shudders at the thought of loosing his tail. He grabbed onto it, and held it close.

"Yes, I'll have some. Thank you, by the way."

He smiled, and gave Fran a few gold coins.

"It isn't much, but that's all I can afford. I feel you deserve it."

[Savverz]

"Nah, keep it." He said before handing the coins back. "Bartender, a glass for my pal here, please?" He asked, and the bartender set a large wine glass in front of Silvester. Francois poured a generous amount of wine into the glass, and then promptly took a swig from the bottle itself. "Ah! Great stuff, as usual. Ahem, sorry beautiful, looks like I'm a tad busy at the moment. Meet me later at the Tiber Septim hotel?" He asked the breton woman whom he was talking with earlier. She shook her head before leaving. Francois' ears drooped a bit, but quickly reverted to their perky selves when he began telling his story. "You see, Silvester, I'm a bit of a tomcat, if you get my meanin'." He said with a wink. "Hah! Ladies love a wealthy fatcat like me, but sometimes I don't always 'love' them, and that's when they get violent. So one time I was dating this orc woman, who was actually quite pleasing to the eye despite what one would think. A mighty fine looking orc, with extra 'mighty', unfortunatly. The thing was, I had just found another fine looking girl, a gorgeous suthay-raht by the name of Mavassa. To be honest, my heart still skips a beat when I think about her. Er, anyway... When the orc figured out I had feelings for another miss, she took her axe and whacked my tail off in my sleep. Hurt like oblivion for days!"

He made a pained expression on his face at the awful memory. "Aye, never cheat on an axe-wieldin' orc miss. But who could blame me? Mavassa was... no, still is, a beautiful creature. Last time I saw her... was back in Suran. She owned a plantation, even her slaves adored her. She was the kindest temple-going cat I've ever seen... Some say she was blessed by Vivec himself, but I knew her before she made herself known in the Temple. Before any kind of 'blessing'." He paused, took another drink from his bottle, and set it down on the counter before giving a soft sigh. "I regret ever leaving her, to be honest. And, trust me, I ain't always honest, if you get my meanin'. So, kid, what do you do for a living? Me, I'm a hunter of sorts... key word here bein' 'of sorts'. I won't elaborate on it, if you don't mind..."