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OUT OF . hey pals !! i’ll be going on a trip tonight for a lil graduation gift and won’t be back for about four days. though i won’t be bringing my laptop, i do have the app installed and logged in for funsies so if you want to chat or something i can be reached through im!  just in case i have plenty of work waiting for me when i return, i’ll also slide it out here that after new york, i’ll be in san francisco from the 24th-28th as a graduation gift pt. ii. i expect to have time when i get back to putz around on the computer for funsies but you never know with clients and such. 

hope you all have a good week!! ♥ ♥ ♥

[ofvalen-blog]

(  teldryn  )

     ❝ An archer, eh? Never fancied being one, myself. I’d wager you could shoot down any of these fools before they got close. ❞ One of the locals from nearby fixes him with a harsh stare, and all he does in turn is grin at them. If they wanted to pick a fight, he’d be willing - but given the way the turn their back to him, he’d wager they weren’t in a brawling mood. At least, not yet. (Of course, trying to pick a fight with a Nord in a place like this probably wouldn’t be wise on Teldryn’s part. Some were known to get rather excited and take the fight too far.) So his attention turns back to the Bosmer, expression softening considerably.

     There’s a low hum given in agreement as he lifts his own tankard to his lips again; ‘twas not an action he usually indulged in, this consumption of ale, though he supposed it couldn’t hurt to partake in the local drinks once in a while. This would be his final one of the night, however - wouldn’t want to risk drinking until he passed out. Nothing good could ever come from an action like that, not for him.

     Several moments pass before he retrieves his hand from Faendal’s grip, a solemn nod offered. ❝ They always do. Why else would they come to a tavern? ❞ A hearty chuckle is offered, another swig of drink taken; he was truly beginning to enjoy his time with his fellow elf.

     ‘ i’d wager you’re probably right , ‘ he had to give a small laugh once more at the fact , taking pride in his natural gift towards archery .  and why shouldn’t he ? when one found themselves surrounded by glares and steel as cold as the mountains they were forged upon , faendal found he vastly preferred to take what he could get , as well as the fact that it was infinitely easier to deal with threats from a distance , though he supposed the other mer had a different thought upon that .  only with a quick glance of his black eyes did he glimpse the dark stare that another patron fixed upon them , but it was decided there would still be no threat tonight .

     ‘ to be fair -- tonight seems colder than others . ‘  for how long he had resided in riverwood , even a more temperate area of skyrim compared to rest , he hadn’t developed the same resistance to the chill as the locals did , and doubted he ever would .  the bosmer punctuated the statement with a bit of a scowl and a glance to the door , imagining a snowstorm would surely set in any moment now , the thought alone making him want to hunch his shoulders and draw his arms in to himself .

strangely , the wood elf felt an urge to simply chatter rising up within him even more so , certainly not something he experienced too often .  fingers tapped only momentarily upon the side of his tankard of ale as if he was sorting through too many thoughts all at once , thought it was a partial truth along with continuing to seem as tame as possible , noting how they continued to receive glares.           (  it was best to seem as least threatening as possible .  )      ‘ what is the weather like in morrowind ? ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

(  my lord  )

▒ ♚ ▒  @ofvalen​    ━━  (  servant  )

STERNNESS  ALONE  STRETCHES  itself  across  fair  features  which  frame  unyielding  stare  that  darts  at  the  archer,  silence  between  THE  TWO  presences  thickening  the  atmosphere.      thranduil  received  an  information  not  necessarily  raising  satisfaction,  intent  to  find  out  what  TRUTH  lay  behind  such  the  reason  why  he  summoned  faendal  ———-  but  revelation  must  wait,  and  breaking  this  quiet  at  last,  the  elvenking  begins  to  circle  him  with  slow,  GRACEFUL  steps;  hands  loosely  clasped  behind  his  back.      ❝ would  you  be  so  generous  as  to  brief  me  on  today’s  patrol ? ❞      for  according  to  feren,  this  particular  member  SHONE  with  absence.

                    starter  |  main  verse

to say that the tension lingering within the air was palpable was an understatement for the simple guard , dark eyes unwilling to lift from the ground out of equal measures of respect and perhaps fear .  he hadn’t realized he had accrued enough of reputation due to his distracted nature , yet it seemed something that the king himself ! wanted to address .  faendal remained quiet as the elvenking circled him , posing a question that they both knew he hadn’t the answers for .  yet there would be no attempt to lie -- for he was always largely honest , and to fabricate any story when he was clearly in such a situation could possibly lead to repercussions he hadn’t wanted to consider .  his majesty was simply too clever to buy a thinly weaved tale , and faendal hadn’t the gift of speechcraft regardless .      ‘ forgive me, my lord .  i . . . i did not take part of the patrol today .  ‘ there was a pause as he understood that an explanation would be necessarily -- not quite the same as a defense -- though uncertain if he may overstep his boundaries with the king’s patience .  ‘ i wished to explore towards the south at the mountains , as i am not very familiar with the area .  ‘

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[ofvalen-blog]

OUT OF . hey if you want a starter of some kind just ♥ this post !!

[ofvalen-blog]

(  best swordsman in morrowind  )

     There’s a laugh that’s barked out at Faendal’s statement about the Nords; it wasn’t a lie, to be sure - all of the Nords that Teldryn himself had been employed under had varying degrees of stubbornness to them. From some, it was endearing: from others, it was infuriating. For his last patron, it had definitely been the latter. ❝ No, he hadn’t. It was his own bull-headed nature that ended our time together. He thought it would be best to attempt to clear out a fort crawling with bandits on his own. ❞

     The Dunmer goes silent as the Bosmer recounts his own story, tilting his head slightly to one side. He seems almost enraptured in Faendal’s tale, and his attention only shifts when he lifts his tankard to his lips. The other seemed less than enthused about sharing, given by the weak response. For several beats longer he waits in a contented silence. Then he speaks again, tone very matter-of-fact. ❝ Sometimes the less interesting tales tell the most story, ❞ he murmurs, sipping of his drink once more. There’s a tap tap tapping of his fingers against the tankard for a few moments.

     ❝ I never properly introduced myself. ❞ One hand extends across the table, a smile playing on his lips as a sharp gaze softens. ❝ Teldryn Sero, best swordsman in all Morrowind. ❞ He’d wager he was better with a sword than most of the locals, too, but cockiness could get a man killed in Skyrim’s unforgiving land. And while death was something he’d grown accustomed to seeing, he would hate for it to be his own. ❝ It’s nice to meet a fellow adventurer, especially in a place like this. ❞

there was a sense of warmth once he heard the unexpected laughter from the other mer , further strengthening any sort of bond he felt towards the dunmer as they could grumble of the stubbornness of nords all night long .  yet once the dark elf spoke and confirmed faendal’s suspicion , the bosmer let out a huff of laughter of his own, shaking his head before taking another swig of ale .  perhaps in hind sight it would be unkind to laugh at the death of a nord -- but technicalities aside , it was proof of such a strong trait in the bloodlines of the hardy folk .

so many things were left unsaid as to his own story , though faendal had long since resolved that his past in valenwood would largely remain there since he travelled to skyrim .  no , no secrets to hide or guard with his life, but simply the lack of desire to share them so openly to strangers that he wasn’t even sure would truly care to hear .  thusly, his counterpart’s simple and straightforwards comment came as a bit of a flattering relief , for he hadn’t pried for more information nor did he quite agree with the wood elf’s comment of his lackluster history in comparison.  all he could offer in response was a smile of appreciation .

     ‘ well met , then .  i am faendal .  ‘ again, it was such an uninspired response ,  the elf pausing momentarily in thought as he then reached across to shake teldryn’s hand with a grin .  ‘ not the best bosmer archer there is , but certainly this far north i am .  ‘ a little bragging never hurt , and sometimes it even made him feel a tad better , cocky even given by how his grin seemed a little more as a smirk for the matter .  ‘ agreed .  hopefully i can help pass the time since , well , no one seems interested in hiring a deadly blade as much as they are consuming as much drink as possible tonight .  ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

“I don’t like to brag, but I once took down a bear at three hundred yards. In a blizzard.”

― Faendal

[ofvalen-blog]

Gently offers pining man a cup of honeyed mead!!

     ‘ – this is for me ? ‘ the wood elf intoned questioningly , eyebrows raised as then initially hesitant digits reach out and take the cup , pausing to decipher its contents before taking a sip .  ‘ thank you very much , ma’am .  is there … any occasion ? ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

(  an elf better than any of these nords  )

     ❝ I don’t much care for their race, if that’s what you’re asking. ❞ That, perhaps, came across a little more harsh than originally intended, but damn it all if he wasn’t sick of the treatment he was getting. He’d been in Skyrim for the last two weeks, and all he’d gotten so far was dirty looks and nasty remarks thrown his way. For each glare or racist term given, he prayed that Boethia would take their souls for it. (The Divines surely wouldn’t accept these people for acting so bitter towards races that weren’t their own.) “ I have a set price; either they pay it, or they don’t. Doesn’t get more simple than that. ”

     Focus shifts for a moment when a barmaid shifts in their direction, refilling his drink before taking her leave once more. But he seems to have lost his taste for the ale: he stares at his tankard with indifference before his eyes turn back to Faendal once more. ❝ Matter of fact, my last patron was a Nord. Stubborn man. Loved picking fights with anything intent on tearing us apart. He got a thrill out of it, I suppose. ❞

     ❝ What about you, hm? What do you do for a living? ❞ Can’t just make the conversation all about him, after all. He and Faendal were equals here, and it was only fair to let the other speak as well.

     ( Perhaps they could find some common ground in their experiences. )

well -- it wasn’t quite what he had meant by his question , though faendal hadn’t really cared to straighten out any misunderstanding judging by the other’s tone .  the dunmer seemed short on patience , albeit the topic was probably well-worn between the two of them , the dark looks and snide remarks always threatening to eat away at any patience one may have , but the fellow mer still persevered despite his obvious lack of tolerance of further abuse .  though they were of different backgrounds , it was their shared exasperation at native residents of skyrim that was letting the archer already warm up to the warrior already , for he hadn’t enough of his ale to have the same effect yet .

     ‘ i thought all nords were stubborn , ‘ the wood elf could only comment in return , perhaps a shadow of a smile gracing his visage .  ‘ i’m guessing that client hadn’t verbally dismissed you ? ‘ it was easy to imagine a large , heavily armored nord meeting a glorious end in battle , especially with an attitude as the other had described .  once more he took a draw from his tankard , pausing as the conversation was then deflected onto himself . he was often content to blend into the background , people hardly holding much interest in him -- practiced , perhaps , due to a variety of circumstances .

     ‘ ah. i work part-time at a mill in riverwood .  ‘ it seemed like a weak reply compared to the other’s story , lacking any real details .  ' just enough to save up some gold , then i usually travel around when i can .  ‘ what could he say ? such restlessness was in his blood ,  the rest of his own life’s story feeling largely irrelevant , or perhaps just dull in comparison .  despite himself , a small chuckle passed his lips at his own thoughts .  ‘ i’m afraid it’s hardly a tale as interesting as yours .  ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

starry night in yosemite

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( this was more than i asked for )

     Irritation was a good way to put how he was feeling, though he’d never admit it aloud. No here, with the building full of Nords who would rather see him exiled - or dead - simply because he was an elf. And yet, the people here were more likely to hire him than anyone on Solstheim was.

     The tankard resting by his hand, previously disregarded, is lifted to his lips; a deep drink taken as he leans back in his seat. The question is pondered for several moments, accentuated by his sharp gaze focusing on some point on the far wall. Eventually, he deems it safe to share part of his story with Faendal.

     ❝ I’m a spellsword, ❞ he begins, taking another drink from the tankard in his hand. ❝ Spent many years training and traveling, working for anyone who was willing to have me. My journeys took me from Morrowind to Skyrim, where I… regrettably spent several years living in Windhelm’s Gray Quarter. Moved to Solstheim from there, where I’ve spent the last while hoping to find my fortune. ❞ His free hand reaches up to rub at his temple, helmet resting carefully upon his lap. Teldryn seems to be relaxing within the company of a fellow Mer, despite tense shoulders; there was always a certain kinship to be felt among other elves, even if they weren’t his own kind.

     He empties the tankard, placing it back on the wooden surface of the table and turning his attention back to the other man.           ❝ The only reason I’m back is because I’m more likely to be hired in this gods-forsaken land than I am on that retched island. ❞

there was a certain sort of affinity with the other -- if simply for the fact that they faced certain amounts of prejudice for not being nords , but it was a risk they were both fully aware of before making their ways through life to meet at a small yet busy inn .  there was hesitation from the archer , uncertainty clouding his mind momentarily as the other elf seemed to already lose his interest in speaking , though it seemed to be him mulling over his own thoughts before sharing them freely .  in the meantime , faendal took advantage of the pause to get a drink for himself from one of the barmaids , taking only a meager sip of his ale as the stranger began to speak up , which he hoped at least made him seem interested enough in the other’s story to be respectful .  perhaps it was a force of habit , for there was nothing he needed from the elf , but honoring the fact that the other had gone out of his way to strike up conversation .

the fact of the matter was that the wood elf’s knowledge of morrowind was limited to books and reminisces from dunmer , but the few he had the opportunity to speak to all spoke of their home with pride .  that knowledge remained limited when it came to even solstheim , spoken of often in bitter tones that were telling enough .  alas it seemed that gold flowed towards the chill of skyrim , or at least was the most available option for all to have the chance to earn their keep .  he supposed one couldn’t fault the nords for at least providing plenty of opportunity for nearly all .

     ‘ you must be skilled indeed then , ‘ he complimented with a gentle and subtle smile, lifting his tankard to his lips once more , pausing before drawing a more meaningful swig of the alcohol .  ��� do you make any distinction between your clients or simply whoever pays best ? ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

(  he seems friendly enough  )

     There’s a curious tilt of his head as he’s called towards, previously uneasy gaze forced to focus upon the newest arrival. For a few silent moments the Dunmer merely stares at the other before he does, eventually, gesture towards the chair. ❝ Seat’s empty, if you want it, friend, ❞ he hums, sharp crimson eyes following Nords as they passed to and fro. Why he’d come to Skyrim was anyone’s guess: perhaps he just got bored of sitting on Solstheim, expecting someone to come along and hire him.

     After several longer moments, he concedes defeat to the warmth of the inn; gloved hands reach up, gripping the sides of chitin plating - to lift it up until his head was freed from its confines.           — And he breathes in, reveling in the scents of the inn.

     The breath he’d drawn in is eventually released in a sigh, which could be seen as frustration - or exasperation, depending on one’s ability to read body language.

     ❝ What brings you to a place like this? ❞ He leans on the table, weight shifted onto a single arm as his gaze turns towards the other elf. ❝ I can’t imagine you’re only here for the sights. Not much to see around here. ❞

perhaps a part of him wasn’t expecting the other to speak up or emit a sound apart from a simple growl , his own time upon the road having usually proved those who preferred to conceal their faces to be less than talkative .  but the same experience also dictated that from the other’s chitlin armor , he was less likely to be condescendingly called little elf by self-righteous nords .  faendal would’ve determined that it was something beyond luck (  fate , perhaps  ) that had provided the open seat next to the dunmer .  or simply that nords might be scared of the intimidating , foreign armor and helmet , though of course he doubted any amount of ale would make one admit as such .

the bosmer spared a glance to the other as he slid into the seat, watching him from the side of his vision as the helmet was at last removed , which seemed much more practical either way in such an environment .  for the most part , no one seemed eager to start a brawl , though the night was still young . practicality aside , he found himself unable to quite decipher the sigh the stranger exhaled , reading it more as exhaustion or even irritation , thus the wood elf’s eyebrows raised in surprise when the stranger opted to strike up conversation .

     ‘ ah, well no .  i have a bit of free time and tend to travel around skyrim .  i prefer the sights outside of the city . ‘ there was an initial pause before he let his own body language ease into a bit more comfort rather than remaining stiff and formal .  he didn’t want to make assumptions about the other, using the opportunity to carefully choose his words , tone remaining open .        ‘ and yourself ? ‘

[ofvalen-blog]

(   @blcdeforhire   )

     ‘ excuse me , ‘ he began rather politely, inclining his head towards the open seat near the warrior , for night had fallen and the only place for one to rest their head and quench their thirst was packed with individuals all holding the same thought of respite .                  (  & he was no different from them after all .   )   the wood elf’s expression remained largely unreadable and fairly neutral, though the lines upon his face suggested he at least once laughed plenty, as well as worried , though his dark eyes that seemed almost entirely black betrayed that he perhaps was more tired than his voice reflected, yet not hopeful of even finding a place to be off of his feet .  wouldn’t it be shameful for a well-practiced traveler to complain of sore feet when there was standing room only ?  regardless of the outcome, no words of lament would pass his lips .  

                         (  at least , not until he knew someone well enough .  )

     ‘ may i take that seat or is someone using it ? ‘

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