He was sorry. How could he be sorry, Aisling thought. He was chosen as the revered mother’s own. He shouldn’t be sorry.
This was definitely Curnan. The gentle heart was there, so were those striking eyes. He still apologized too much, she smiled at that. “I’ll tell you everything, Currach,” she spoke once more, “I… I cannot hope to understand or tell you everything, but I hope I can tell you enough for you to fill in the gaps.” If there was anything to fill them with. Was his family still around, even?
He smiled briefly as she prayed. “I’m sure they will.”
Well, it was what he was hoping; after all, she’d been so kind to him in explaining everything he had forgotten. If The Old Gods still deigned to give her the cold shoulder, Currach wouldn’t be able to understand why. Aisling could’ve gone anywhere, but she’d returned to the Reach of her own volition, and the memories still burned strong in her heart.
Endris raised an eyebrow. “Good and evil are relative. To some Telvanni may seem evil but most of us are simply selfish. To a Dunmer, it’s evil to reanimate a dead body, yet a lot of other cultures don’t consider it such. To an Argonian, the Dunmer are evil for participating in slavery. To a Dunmer, the Argonians are evil for taking over their ancestral home. It’s all relative. As for mourning, the killing of rivals is such an essential part of Dunmeri culture that none of us give it a second thought. In the end, I won, so my pain is more valid, as is just. Losing Endase- I lost more than a sister.” It would seem that this seemingly chipper and naive mer had a lot more to him.
Currach pursed his lips.
He was right. But if the elf so much as uttered that the evil crimes of the Nords were relative in the redoubts, he’d lose his head. The only thing that even allowed Currach to voice his rather unpopular opinion on Markarth and the Nords without being slaughtered was the sacred Briarheart that displayed his birthright as a child of the Hagravens.
Sometimes he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry over the fact that he had to die once to achieve this honor.
"What you say has merit," said Currach, "It is something I had forgotten." Still, Currach was uneasy. Endris had memories—painful memories, but memories nonetheless. Meanwhile, the Briarheart had no family of his own—at least, none that he could remember—and it put him in an awkward position he wasn’t sure he liked. True, he had the revered mother whose counsel and time were always valuable; he had his fellow brothers and sisters across the Reach, and he had Caoimhe. But since Aisling, he couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d been missing, and what he still needed to remember.
His next question was surely a daft one, but Currach couldn’t help but ask it. “If you could,” he began quietly, “Would you be happier not remembering her death?”
It was either remembering the anguish or living with the void. Having lived with the latter in the past eight years, Currach hardly had a point of reference with which to relate to.
Seeing that the human would follow him, Baabaa trotted off, going quickly, but not quick enough that Currach would lose sight of him if he ran as well. The goat went fairly far, before stopping in front of a very large and very tall tree, decorated with various animal bones.
Currach merely followed quietly—perhaps his brothers would’ve thought it silly to follow a mountain goat across the Reach, but the animals knew their home and its inhabitants better than anything, perhaps even the Reachmen themselves. Besides, if Remi had a tendency to scurry around like Seaghdh implied, he’d be in for a long game of hide and seek.
It seemed for a while that the goat wouldn’t stop, but once he noticed the tree, the goat stopped before it.
He recognized the tree-like the offerings and the fires, trees too held a spiritual purpose, moreso when they were adorned as such. Currach found himself struggling to understand why their religious displays frightened the Nords so, when bones tied with twine and leather were no less alien than homes built with wood and stone.
"Is Remi here?" asked the Briarheart. "In the tree?"
((So, being a bit neglectful of my RP blogs, as well as contemplating a few discussions I’ve had with friends, have made me kind of anxious as of late. And so, I wanted to ask you guys just for general feedback. I’m kind of stuck in a bind with class and work and a plethora of IRL stuff so I understand if I’ve been neglecting my threads here and there, but…
I was just wondering if any of you would be able to help me answer a few questions? Even with something as casual as RPing, I’m pretty dead serious about honesty. It is paramount for me. I hate having people sugarcoat things or lie—if something is shit, tell me it’s shit and how it can get better. I respect honest people so much.
So with that being said, if anyone feels there’s anything I could improve on (i.e, availability, promptness to answer threads, willingness to plot with you, character development, giving you something to respond with) please let me know. This goes for whatever blog I ran you’re rping with or have rped with in the past. I want and am looking for bluntness. If you feel I’m bad at getting responses out and that I should work on that, let me know. If you feel like I suck at character development, let me know! If you feel I do not pay enough effort or attention to you/your replies/your messages, or if you think I am judgmental or if you have some certain criticism against me, please let me know. Hell, it can even be a compliment! I won’t be offended by anything you hurl at me as long as it is kept strictly to criticism against the way I RP or the way I treat people. In fact, I’m desperately curious and I’ll probably be asking you for suggestions and pointers.
The main point of this, is I want to fix problem areas. It’s just the way I am. I am my worst critic, and I am a paranoid freak obsessed with pleasing everyone and myself. I’m slowly trying to learn how to be selfish, but in terms of RPing which is basically a collaborative effort, I’m trying really hard for feedback. I am really concerned about what you all think and whether or not I’m being a good/bad RP partner and a good/bad mod! It’ll be great too because it’ll give me room with which to learn.
I might be reblogging this throughout the day as I realize it’s 7 AM and most people aren’t on yet, but it’s been bugging me! So with that being said, sorry for the text wall and I hope I get some messages <3))
“Rarely are stares welcoming to begin with, Reachman.” She grinned, looking at him curiously. Wasn’t he supposed to be a warrior? Was he a Ravager, or a Briarheart, or something along those lines? She wasn’t exactly familiar with all their titles or statuses. She just knew they lived in Redoubts and one had a little butterfly in his chest and her guard enjoyed being dominated by women larger than himself. That was, essentially, the limit of her knowledge at this time. Maybe she could find out a little more from this fellow.
“Seaghdh is busy elsewhere?” Sontaire mused, tapping her chin, “He’s usually what keeps his brother at bay. Remi could be near my Bordello right now, looking for him…” There was something resigned and forlorn to her voice in this moment, as if she had figured out this might not be for the best in a split second.
An idea crossed her thoughts. “You could come back with me, dear. I’ll see to it that you find Remi, but if he’s not there, he will be eventually, I surmise.”
Currach smiled briefly. “That much is true.” And upon realizing that he’d gawked at his newly made lady friend in the same manner, averted his eyes quickly.
"Seaghdh…is busy," he affirmed, finally—but with what, he wasn’t sure. The last time he’d sought out the archer, he’d walked in on him brandishing what appeared to be some form of dildo. Since then, he’d really opted against asking him any more questions.
"I volunteered to watch over Remi in my spare time," he explained. "While I also know Remi to some extent, I did not truly realize how much of a handful he was until just recently." Currach’s brows raised, however, at Sontaire’s remark. Why would Seaghdh be here?
"Does Seaghdh frequent this place often?" he asked, curiously. "Ah, I mean, your…Bordello?" He had no idea what a bordello even /was/, but hopefully it would all make itself clear to him later. Still, hearing that Remi would eventually frequent the place was relieving. Currach never would’ve assumed Remi to know of a place like this, but then again, the two brothers were always full of strange surprises.
"Thank you," he said, nodding. "I appreciate your help. It’s important that I see him home."
“Yes, it does.” she nodded, “It marks me as an archer from Clan MacGillivray of Evermor. They’re also supposed to channel the Old Gods to protect me in battle. Mostly, they link me as a follower of The Morrigan with the hope that I am given the cunning of a crow when faced with adversity. All archers are supposed to be cunning and be able to adapt quickly. Read the wind and terrain properly so a shot is never wasted and always find its mark. The kind of stuff.”
Ishbel looked the man over and tried to avert her eyes as much as possible from the hole in his chest. He was peaking in a civil manner which helped to calm her nerves, but she was still on her guard. Judging from how she was treated when she crossed the border, she couldn’t afford to be too lax around Reachmen, which made her slightly sad in a way.
“Your makings mean things too, right?” she asked.
"Your clan’s beliefs do not differ much from our own," remarked Currach. "We value the same strengths in our own archers—with time, they learn to read the wind, and the terrain, as well as the changes in the hums of the earth. The Old Gods guide them through the hunt, as they guide all of us.
"The Morrigan is defintely one of our matron deities; they live on in the Revered Mothers of our clans, gifting us with knowledge, power, and insight. Some say it is she who gave Red Eagle his power, in exchange for his humanity." He smiled briefly, nodding down at his chest.
"And the cycle goes on. It is an honor to give myself to the tradition." At least, it was what he wanted to believe. "My markings in particular reflect who I believe myself to be. I pick my battles carefully, and I attempt to address my troubles with words, against a blade. My role is that of a protector, and being the one who oversees Red Eagle’s Redoubt and the Sundered Towers, I find it is my duty to preserve Faolan’s home as well as those before me.
"That is what my marks mean, at least to me."
Endris cocked his head at the question. Poisoning a rival was fair game but a whole family? He wasn’t Helseth! “Of course not, they didn’t do anything to me. Children are a rare thing for Dunmer, and I’m sure his wife would have had no trouble in remarrying. I may be Telvanni but I’m not evil.” he pouted. “Killing rivals is just a part of life, but killing unrelated bystanders isn’t.”
Currach blinked. “Telvanni?” Part of him felt like he should’ve known these things, but in all honesty his past memories yielded nothing on this. “Are they usually an evil sort?”
It felt like a foolish and naive thing to ask, but he was relieved to hear, at least, that Endris had left the wife and child unharmed. “That is kind of you. And I understand your motives for revenge, though I wonder if his family had grieved over the loss, any.”
Perhaps it was a silly thing for a Briarheart of his sort to say, but he couldn’t help but wonder.
The goat seemed to be more attentive, probably because it was a bit older, and gave a bleat, almost as if it understood. It seemed the animals that followed Rémi around were unusually intelligent. Or at least the goat was, the dog seemed normal enough.
The white animal trotted back a few paces, staring at Currach, and gave another bleat. It wanted to be followed!
Currach did not hesitate, and at the bleat, followed the goat curiously. He quietly hoped he wasn’t being led on a wild goose chase—or in this case, a wild goat chase—as he’d never really seen this goat before, but it was the only lead he had for now.
So he nodded as the goat looked back at him, as if conveying that he’d follow.
Indeed, there was something there. A little puppy, red and wiry fur, wet with water as it lapped at the stream. The goat followed Currach and seemed familiar with the dog, because the little creature went up to the white goat and sniffed at it, before sniffing all around Currach’s feet and licking his leg.
Currach bit his lip. Now he was surrounded by animals—surely pets of Remi—and he hadn’t any idea where Remi was, yet! The Briarheart peered down at the two creatures, watching them. Maybe eventually, they’d lead him along? The dog seemed to be sniffing the goat and appeared relatively friendly. At any rate, he hoped he’d find Remi soon—he didn’t want the man getting into any trouble.
He finally knelt down at the pup, gesturing towards the stream with a nod. "Have you seen Remi?"
It seemed almost ridiculous to talk to a creature to whom he had no ties, but the dog and the goat were certainly not stupid—maybe they’d prove to be helpful in finding the Briarheart.