Believe, Believe, the Dragonborn Comes [Open]

[fireandhoney]

Who: Finn Onaru (fireandhoney) & Anyone

What: Finn gets used to his new surroundings.
When: Late May
Where: Downtown
Warning(s): TBA


When going downtown, it might be hard to miss the new face. He's about 5'9", has grey skin, pointed ears, long black hair, and is on the skinny side. He's dressed in a grey tunic and pants, with a teal robe over it, and worn black boots. He also speaks with a British accent, and has a slightly raspy voice. Like someone who's inhaled ash throughout his childhood.

Finn still isn't entirely unconvinced that this isn't some plane of Oblivion. Though if it is, it's like no plane he's ever read about. Maybe it's part of Sanguine's domain. It's far too organized to be part of the Shivering Isles.

As he explores downtown, he slips into a nearby clothing store, figuring he might as well look for a change of attire.

The elf eyes a black jacket and matching pants, holding it up to himself just to get an idea of what it would look like on him.

---

Later, he makes his way to a local tavern, to grab a drink and perhaps some food. He sits at a table, and idly wonders aloud to himself, "I don't suppose I could get a good Dunmer wine? Or some grilled grasshoppers. Probably asking for too much."

Comments

[misbegottendreamer]

Her keen ears can’t help but overhear, and she makes her way over to him. She’s a mysterious figure, masked, hooded, her hands bandages, but when she speaks, her accent is unmistakably Dunmeri.

“Did I hear you correctly? I never imagined I would encounter a fellow Dunmer here! Why, I don’t think I’ve even met anyone else from the whole of Tamriel before now.”

[fireandhoney]

Finn looks up, smiling. Even with the mask, he knows a Dunmeri voice and accent when he hears it.

"Azura's wisdom to you, friend."

[misbegottendreamer]

“And to you as well, muthsera.” Her tone is somewhat measured and oddly formal- it’s reminiscent of how the clergy tend to speak.

“Might I ask how long you’ve been here?”

[fireandhoney]

"Just since this morning," His own cadence is more like how a commoner speaks. "I'm still not entirely unconvinced that this isn't some plane of Oblivion."

[misbegottendreamer]

“I do not believe this to be Oblivion, unless it is a part of that expanse far, far beyond Nirn. These stars are not the marks of the gods we know. Their songs are unfamiliar and strange, though they are no less beautiful.”

[fireandhoney]

"I'm not sure if I should be comforted or even more unsettled at that. On the one hand, if this isn't Oblivion, then I didn't do anything to piss off any Daedric Princes more so than usual. But if this isn't Oblivion, and it really is another world, then what I was told is true and I'm even further from home than I thought."

Forget the wine, he's going to need a mead, or maybe some rum.

[misbegottendreamer]

"The gods can still hear us here. The local goddesses relay our prayers and intentions to them, so do not despair and think that we have been forgotten. Your songs will reach across the void."

[blindwatchersees]

“Grasshoppers aren’t quite as tall an order as smoked baliwog legs. At least your little bugs exist here. Oh, but I’m sure plenty of the monsters on this island are perfectly tasty, it’s just no one’s taken the risk yet to see which of them are poisonous and which of them are delicious.”

An old man with a cane is beside him, seemingly out of nowhere, a charming, disarming smile plastered on his face, along with a beard that seems to somehow smile on its own accord.

[fireandhoney]

Finn pauses, immediately recognizing that voice before he even looks up. They only met once, but it was an experience that Finn's not about to forget anytime soon. Best to watch his step for now.

He looks up into the disarmingly bright smile. "So I was right. I am in Oblivion. I expected the Shivering Isles to be less organized."

[blindwatchersees]

“Did you not just hear me? If this were the Isles, we’d be swimmin’ in Baliwog legs! No, my friend, we’re a step or two removed from my realm, or any part of Oblivion for that matter. Though I am curious to know what you think towns in the Isles are like. D’you think we build the houses to stand on their heads?”

[fireandhoney]

"I guess I'd expect things to be more chaotic or nonsensical. Say, with flying hogs or the sky being green or something like that. I mean, accounts from Sheogorath worshippers tend to be unreliable at best."

[blindwatchersees]

“Reliable in their unreliability. I wouldn’t say the sky isn’t green, through the right set of eyes.” He gives his cane a little tap.

“Nonsense, though… nonsense, nonsense, nonsense. I wonder if perhaps you haven’t had enough of a taste of it to know a flibbertygibbet from a ninnyhammer, bumfuzzle from jiggery-pokery. It’s a fine vintage that tastes all the same to an untrained palette.”

[fireandhoney]

"Thanks, but I think I'll stick to mortal beverages." Using the Wabbajack is enough of a crapshoot sometimes, but the idea of drinking something with those names, possibly also from the Shivering Isles... Best not to find out the hard way.

[spaghettification]

"Did...did you say Dunmer?" The man asking is dressed mostly in the local fashion, but he's not wearing shoes, and he's floating six inches off the ground. These two facts may be related. "I'm not sure if Drelasa has made any wine, muthsera, but there is a kinswoman...erm, kinswomer?...of yours on this island already."

One who has clearly given Siebren enough information about her culture for him to attempt to be polite.

[fireandhoney]

Finn gave the man a curious once-over, noting the way he's floating. More than that, he's surprised to hear words in his native tongue from a human. Most he met never made that much effort.

"So I'm not the only one here?" That's a relief.

[spaghettification]

"No, you aren't. But you're one of only two, so far. Drelasa works at the forge, if you're hoping to seek her out. Or, some nights, she can be found up on the hills or out at Crane's Ridge, stargazing."

This may become a more interesting fact, when Finn learns Drelasa is blind. But she often has good company for stargazing.

"This world does have elves native to it, and there's other newcomers from their own worlds who are also elves, but none are Dunmer. Still, you aren't going to stand out any more than anyone else, here."

[fireandhoney]

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her, then."

Visiting Solstheim made him realize how much he missed being around other Dunmer.

"Sad to say, that's not an unfamiliar experience for me. I spent the past year in a land where very few Dunmer live." That he's a Dunmer in particular, with his distinct eyes and skin tone, didn't make him very popular in Skyrim.

[spaghettification]

"I'm sorry, especially that here won't be any more comfortable for you."

Siebren shakes his head slightly. "May I buy you a drink? It may not be Dunmeri wine, but the local fruit cordials and such are quite pleasant."

[fireandhoney]

"Just as long as I don't get called an elven freak or have slurs tossed at me." Hopefully there's no Stormcloaks running around, or just prejudiced Nords in general.

"A drink would be lovely, thank you."

[actuallyawolf]

Ylva has seen and known a drow or two, though that's... different, from the person sitting a seat or two down at the bar. She glances sideways a few times, curious but trying to be discreet. She herself at least looks like a half elf, though whether that will matter to him will remain to be seen.

"What sort of grasshoppers do you eat? Any kind, or is a special kind?"

A perfectly normal question, and asked in a perfectly normal tone.

[fireandhoney]

He looks over at the woman, guessing that she's probably a Breton.

"Ash hoppers are my favorite, but I like the little green ones too." Ash hoppers have more meat on them, while he has to eat a couple handfuls of the small ones before he's satisfied.

[actuallyawolf]

"Hm. I don't think I've ever seen an ash hopper. They don't have them where I'm from, I guess."

Ylva, who has definitely eaten insects before, and is not always very discerning, gives this some very serious thought for a moment. "There're other grasshoppers, though. Are they really good? I wonder if they'd add them to the menu here. I wanna try."

[fireandhoney]

"Ash hoppers are only really native to Morrowind, where I'm from." He assumes anyway, since he never saw them in Skyrim.

"They're really good, when pan-fried and seasoned just right. The first time I tried ordering them outside of my homeland, I got weird looks."

[actuallyawolf]

She chews her lip thoughtfully for a moment, looking distracted. "What's an ash hopper like? Big, small, do they eat anything in particular? I'm asking," Ylva pauses to take a swig of her drink, "because I do a lot of foraging and hunting. That's kind of what I do? And maybe I could find something for you."

She offers him a toothy grin. "I'm Ylva. Did you just get here?"

[fireandhoney]

"They're pretty big. Most of them come up to my knee. They eat plants, like scathecraw or grass, and they can get rather aggressive." Humans find them odd, but he thought eating cows and sheep was weird when he first came to Skyrim.

"I'm Finn, and yes, I just arrived this morning."