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Bradon Jurard

'A great deal of coin comes from the work we're doing, and I do indeed like it.'

0 · 836 views · located in Cyrodiil

a character in “The Blood Tide”, as played by Zap

Description

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"The people of this land are troubled with burdens and problems that they cannot fix, and will pay lots of gold for us to sort out their problems for them."




Image{ FULL NAME }
Bradon Frasoric Amaud Jerard
{ AGE }
32
{ RACE }
Breton
{ FACE CLAIM }
Tom Hiddleston - Loki



Image{ HEIGHT }
Compared to other Bretons his age, Bredon Jurard is rather tall, although he is not as tall as a Nord, an Altmer or an Orc, but is considerably taller than a Bosmer. He does not know exactly what height he is, as he never does have time to measure himself.

{ WEIGHT }
Bradon does not regard himself as 'muscular', but knows he is of an athletic build due to his natural lifestyle. Again, he does not have time to know what exact weight he is, but he knows that he is healthy and of an athletic build, and is far from overweight or underweight.

{ SCARS }
Bradon does not carry any scars or burns, and has unblemished skin.



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{ LIKES }
Bradon likes to have a warm bed and a full stomach of food. He particularly enjoys wine and lavish feasts, which he used to enjoy while he lived with his family in High Rock, but knows he will be unable to get such a thing during his time adventuring. He would rather spend time inside stone city walls than out in the wilderness, and would rather be on horseback than walking, but he does not care either way. One of the most important things for Bradon is gold; he loves gold. It isn't an obsession, but he likes to buy new things, things that he needs to get even more gold.

{ DISLIKES }
Bradon is a rather fussy person, and dislikes a lot of petty things. For instance, he cannot stand cold meals and would rather have a hearty one than barely anything. Sleeping on wet ground is also a thing he hates, and will go and find a dry place to sleep if it gets that bad. He is very particular about his hair, and will almost always keep it tied back into a ponytail and hates it when he is in combat and his hair comes loose.

{ FEARS }
Bradon suffers from Death anxiety (sometimes referred to as necrophobia). It is the morbid, abnormal or persistent fear of one's own death or the process of this. One definition of death anxiety is a "feeling of dread, apprehension or solicitude (anxiety) when one thinks of the process of dying, or ceasing to ‘be’". It is also referred to as thanatophobia (fear of death), and is distinguished from necrophobia, which is a specific fear of dead or dying persons and/or things. Some people think that Bradon has haemophobia, the extreme and irrational fear of blood, but Bradon just doesn't like seeing blood.



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{ PERSONALITY }
Bradon is a very cocky, arrogant and self-assured man. He has an extreme case of vanity, which is the excessive belief in one's own abilities or attractiveness to others. He also is a narcissist, and has an egotistical admiration of his own attributes. Coming from that, he is also very egotistical, and has the drive to maintain and enhance favorable views of oneself, and generally features an inflated opinion of one's personal features and importance. He often includes intellectual, physical, social and other overestimations when describing himself to people.

But deep down, behind Bradon's 'questionable' traits, there is a good heart, and the ability to care for the ones he loves. Although he has not been in Cyrodiil long, he has begun to care for the province's inhabitants, and it pains him to see them in pain and strife. He hides behind his more questionable traits because he does not want to be seen as weak, and will fight anyone who believes he is such a thing.



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{ HISTORY }
Bradon Frasoric Amaud Jurard was born in Evermore, near the Bangkorai Pass, in the province of High Rock to the north-west of Cyrodiil, the homeland of the Bretons. He was born into a rich family, and grew up as the black sheep of it, not wanting to fit in and do the things he was supposed to; he was a rebellious child, unlike his siblings and cousins, preferring to go out adventuring in Evermore than have peaceful talks with family members. Despite his resistance, he did learn quite a bit of bartering, diplomacy and negotiation, something that would help him in years to come.

His family took many trips across the Bangkorai Pass into Hammerfell, and Bradon's adventurous spirit was sated many times during his adventures in that neighboring province. He visited many notable places, including the cities of Dragonstar, Rihad and Sentinel, as well as gazing upon the Abecean Sea and the Alik'r desert, both of which he hoped to cross someday. By the time he was a young adult, he had learned considerable amounts of knowledge. He learned about the Imperial Empire and all of its provinces, as well as how to use a natural form of defence; Magic, which he soon became rather fond of using.

But this did not stop him from learning other things, and Bradon soon learned how to make a camp, how to cook food on a campfire and all other basic survival needs. He also was taught how to handle a spear and a bow, and had his favourite weapon forged, a magic staff with a sharp blade on either end for stabbing as well as casting spells. He soon then left home and began to explore the world, starting off with Hammerfell. He crossed the Alik'r Desert and sailed the Abecean Sea, he spent time with the Orcs of the Wrothgarian and Dragontail Mountains, he climbed the steps to High Hrothgar and left a tribute to the Greybeards, and he wandered the forests of Valenwood and discovered their beauty.

By the time he made it to Cyrodiil, he had made many allies and friends, as well as becoming a seasoned adventurer of his own right. He now travels with a companion named Riskan, and neither of them know about their true destiny.



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{ EQUIPMENT }
Inside of Bradon's equipment bag there are:
1) Two Bedrolls (One for him, one Extra)
2) A Tent
3) A Campfire
4) A Darkfire - A Darkfire is a magical fire that emits heat but no light. Useful for scouts deep in enemy territory, or those who want to avoid
being seen.
4) A Cooking Pot
5) 7 Leather Screens or Partitions
6) An Animal Pelt (makes the ground more comfortable)
7) 2 Horse Tethering Posts (they don't actually tether horses through scripts, but you can place one on each side of your horse).
8) A fishing rack
9) An alchemy stand
10) A tanning rack
11) Barricades - useful if he wants to fortify his position.


{ WEAPONS }
On his person at all times, Bradon carries his signature magical staff, which is made of oak wood but is painted gold, and has two curved metal blades on each end, which are also painted gold. However, he also carries on him a steel shortsword and a steel dagger, which he hides in his cloak just so nobody can see them and they are easy to unsheath and use.

{ MAGIC }
Bradon grew up learning how to use magic, and so he knows a lot of spells, from healing spells to fire spells, ice spells and underwater breathing spells, he can do most things that most regular mages can do.


So begins...

Bradon Jurard's Story

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Character Portrait: Riskan The Unbroken Character Portrait: Bradon Jurard
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Despite everything happening throughout the entire Empire, Bradon found that the Imperial City was surprisingly calm. Sure, everybody knew what was happening, and there was no doubt a sense of dread and shock buried beneath, but he had seen no man or woman that was letting their true feelings show, and it made him curious.

He was not from around these parts, being a native of High Rock and all, and had not spent that long in Cyrodiil, so to see the customs and traditions that these citizens showed was intriguing to say the least. The serene nature of the entire city was oddly relaxing, and it showed Bradon that the Imperial Watch that protected the city was, as he had been told many times, the best that the Imperial Legion had to offer.

And so Bradon sat in the Imperial City Market District, at one of the tables that were outside the Feed Bag, and watched the citizens and residents of the Imperial City go about their day-to-day business, sometimes stopping to chat to people that they knew. After spending a few minutes watching all of the citizens, he turned to the meal he had bought from the Feed Bag and began to eat. It wasn't much, just a cheese wedge, an apple and some vegetables to go with it, but it was definitely appetizing.

The cuisine in the Imperial City was not unlike the cuisine in High Rock, and that made Bradon feel a lot more comfortable and at home. Honestly, he had nothing to worry about from Cyrodiil, and he was anxious and excited to bring his adventuring talents into this province, hoping to make some gold and take care of people's problems whilst he made such gold.

Whilst he ate, he read the weekly edition of The Black Horse Courier that he had picked up whilst he strolled around the Market District, looking for a place to eat. And in turn, this was how he learned about the shocking events that had unfolded while he was traveling between provinces. And so he ate and he read, and Bradon felt relaxed during the few minutes he had spare.

The setting changes from Imperial City to Cyrodiil

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Character Portrait: Riskan The Unbroken Character Portrait: Bradon Jurard
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Riskan The Unbroken

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Riskan's eyes were set on the Imperial City as soon as he heard about it. It had been described to him, by an eager merchant, as the 'Wheel of Cyrodiil', filled with stores brimming with wares. He'd been told that the best fighting force Tamriel had ever known, the Imperial Army, were trained there.

Setting out on the road, he had noticed that some people were gossiping the same subject of an 'Oblivion crisis' plaguing the province. That gates letting out monstrous creatures were spotted in the wilderness. Upon further inquiry, the people had no problem in informing Riskan of the details. The guards that patrolled roads were busy fighting these monsters, apparently.

Riskan thought they could be worth fighting for the sake of adventure and possibly close the Gates, to put him in the gossip as well. This induced a smile from him whenever he thought about it.

Right now, he was sitting in The Merchant's Inn, drinking mead and eating a portion of bread, apples and a carrot. He considered it a full meal, compared to times when he had starved for two days. On the table next to his plate of food, a sheet of the Black Horse Courier explaining the pandemonium in Cyrodiil.

The setting changes from Cyrodiil to Imperial City

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Character Portrait: Riskan The Unbroken Character Portrait: Bradon Jurard
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It didn't take Bradon long to finish his meal, despite reading the Black Horse Courier with a lot of interest and intrigue. He regarded himself as a quick eater, whether or not that was a good thing however, he did not know. He finished off his meal with a flagon of ale, which he found rather bitter and not to his tastes.

Leaving his plate and empty flagon for the Feed Bag's proprietor, Delos Fandas, to find and collect, Bradon grasped his scepter and began to walk down the stone-cobbled street of the Market District, looking for whatever he thought could suit his needs. See, Bradon was a big fan of Ancient Ayleid architecture, history and craftsmanship. It fascinated him, all of the history behind such a prestigious race like the Heartland High Elves, and it was one of the reasons he came to Cyrodiil.

Knowing of a couple of Ayleid ruins near the Imperial City, he was anxious to visit them and document his findings, and so he was looking for the nearest store in the Market District that could sell him a map of Cyrodiil and a empty book for him to write in. It didn't take him long to find such a place, seeing a book on a nearby sign which had the words 'The First Edition' carved into the wood next to the book.

Finding his destination, he walked inside and propped his scepter up against the wall inside the store, before walking over to the counter where the proprietor, a tall Redguard, was standing, waiting to greet him. The Redguard smiled as Bradon came close, and extended his hand for a handshake, which Bradon accepted.

Welcome, sir," The Redguard spoke with his head held high and a booming voice. I'm Phintias, owner and proprietor of the First Edition. Look around. If I don't have it, maybe I can get it for you."

Bradon smiled at the man, and clasped his hands together, scanning the bookshelves in his eyesight.
"I am wondering whether or not you have a map of Cyrodiil in stock, as well as a fine quill and an empty book."

Phintias smiled. Don't worry sir, I'm sure that there is a map and a book around here somewhere, excuse me for just a moment while I search for such a thing."

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Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Riskan The Unbroken Character Portrait: Bradon Jurard
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Riskan The Unbroken

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Riskan wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, being careful to keep his skin away from the chainmail so as to not graze himself- A lesson he learnt the hard way.

Rolling up the Black Horse Courier article and placing it in his bag carefully, Riskan set out for the First Edition. He wanted to find the locations of the Ayleid ruins, that were rumoured to be filled with treasures and foes. He could imagine himself beheading monsters residing in the ruins, carrying out a bag of Welkynd Stones.

Entering the building,he noticed a rich-looking Breton already there, probably waiting for some kind of mundane book he'd buy just
to show off in his expensive manor. With a smirk on his face, that he quickly changed into a curious smile, he spoke to the stranger with a casual tone;
"So, what sort of rare book are you interested in that Phintias has ended up searching for?"

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Character Portrait: Riskan The Unbroken Character Portrait: Bradon Jurard
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Bradon found the amount of books that the man had in stock was astonishing, to say the least. He had been told that Phintias was a rare book collector, but Bradon never thought he would have this many. Sure, he owned a book store, but Bradon had never seen a book store with books like these, some of the books Bradon had never even heard of!

With Phintias gone, Bradon began to look around the store, pulling books off of shelves and reading the titles with interest. He would have to come back here one day and buy a lot of these; he could learn a lot from the books that were stored on these shelves, simply gathering dust.

Just as he placed a book back where it belonged, Bradon heard the door creak open. There, stood in the doorway, was a white-haired man with a matching beard. He was a large man, and Bradon could tell by his complexion that he was a Nord. He carried two swords on his back and wore chainmail and leather armour; this man was a warrior.

Bradon smiled at the man and turned his attention back to the bookshelves, before moving back over to the counter, only to be stopped by the Nord in the store with him:
"So, what sort of rare book are you interested in that Phintias has ended up searching for?"

Bradon chuckled and patted the man on the shoulder, his robe swaying as he did so. It was a lovely robe, consisting mainly of leather, but with green velvet in some places. He also wore a black cloak with a green lining when he wandered in the wilds, but he did not need to wear that right now.
"Ah, not quite. He's gone looking for a blank book for me to record my findings in, as well as a map of Cyrodiil. I'm going to explore the Ayleid ruins and document my discoveries, you see."

The setting changes from Imperial City to Cyrodiil

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When Riskan had arrived in the building, the Breton had been peering over bookshelves, but had moved back to the counter. Although it was foolish to assume at first glance, Riskan had guessed it had been a defensive gesture, to assert his position of being the first there.

He knew the man wasn't hostile in any manner when he started patting his shoulder. Although it did seem quite strange to Riskan, he decided to try and be polite, as nobles were the worst to offend. One insulting move and they'd report to their other highborn friends about you.

What took him most by surprise, however, was the man's intentions to explore an Ayleid ruin. Either the man had a death wish, or he was something more than a wealthy stranger. Maybe he was a mage? That could help him greatly against other magic-users.

Now, he knew, he'd have to be careful with the man.
"I don't suppose you'd mind some support with the various outlaws and monsters? I expect payment in the form of sharing in the fun of slaying the creatures, though." Smiled Riskan, almost looking like another scar.

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"I don't suppose you'd mind some support with the various outlaws and monsters? I expect payment in the form of sharing in the fun of slaying the creatures, though."
Bradon chuckled once more. This man was obviously eager for battle, perhaps an adventurer like him, or more of a mercenary, Bradon couldn't tell, nor did he want to. The man was probably like him, eager to make gold and do the things that he wants to do whilst he makes such gold, and Bradon had no qualms with such a thing.

Bradon welcomed company, and would be glad to have it. He remembered many a time where he was not alone on his adventures, in fact. He had traveled across the Alik'r Desert with a caravan of traders and had done the same across the sands of Elsweyr, but that time the merchants were Khajiit, not Redguard. He had spent many days learning the crafts and tricks of the trade from said people, and was eager to learn more about things in Cyrodiil from this man.

"Of course, my friend!" Bradon smiled, removing his hand from the man's shoulder and instead looking at him with his arms behind his back, hands clasped. "I am not one for shying away from willing companionship."

Soon, Phintias returned, placing a rolled scroll, bound with a red ribbon, and a leather-backed book onto the counter. "Here we are. That will be 20 gold, please sir."

Bradon smiled and placed a coinpurse containing 20 gold onto the counter. He liked to have his coins bagged into even numbers, just so he could easily pull them out without having to hassle. He took the scroll and the book, placing them both into his knapsack, and walked over to the door, grasping his golden scepter and leaving the store with a wave to Phintias to signal his goodbye.

The setting changes from Cyrodiil to Imperial City

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Riskan wondered how he made his money. Was he a merchant? A mercenary? Whatever he may be, his techniques may just help him, too. More money was always helpful, as Riskan himself was saving up for better armour. He had worn this chainmail (and repaired) for a total of seven years.

The man's comment lifted Riskan's spirits, as he knew this meant treasure and fighting would be abound. This spurred him to check and double check his essentials, remembering an incident in which an arrow hit him and he had to leave it there for three hours because he had no more bandages left, and couldn't risk an infection. It still made him shiver.

Riskan decided to follow the stranger. Perhaps they could go there right away, and he'd have his first friend in ages. That too, would be a nice thing. Hopefully he wouldn't seem rude to the man.

Catching up to him, Riskan noticed he had a golden sceptre in one hand. It must be of some kind of potency, otherwise the man wouldn't be carrying it, after all (Riskan, by now, assured himself the stranger was a mage). He made no comment on it, however.

"So, what is your name?" Riskan inquired, smiling friendlily.

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Bradon walked down the cobbled street, his golden scepter making a clicking sound every time it hit a cobble whilst they walked. Nothing had really changed since Bradon went into the store, except for the fact that some citizens had left the Market District and others had taken their place on the street.

He wanted to make sure he had everything he needed before he left the Imperial City for the nearest Ayleid ruin, which he believed was the ancient ruin of Vilverin, and sat near one of the exits to the Imperial City Sewers. He had already marked the location of the Ayleid ruin on his recently-bought map with a quick 'x' using the quill, albeit the quill had no ink on it at all.

Before he could take anything further however, he heard the voice of his new companion behind him:
"So, what is your name?"

Bradon smiled to himself. He didn't mind idle talking, but they were about to go onto a grand expedition, one that would probably involve the two men to spend a lot of time in a dark, dirty and quite possibly dangerous Ayleid ruin, and they needed to be absolutely, 100 percent ready and prepared for anything. However, he had just met this man, and wasn't opposed to get to know him.

"Depending on who you ask," Bradon spoke, not looking at his companion as he did so. "My name is Bradon Fransoric Amaud Jurard, but you can call me Bradon, if you wish."

He moved over to the table he was sat at whilst he ate his afternoon meal, and found that his plate and flagon had indeed been moved in the short time he had disappeared. Bradon lay his new map down over the table and removed his knapsack from his back, before placing it on the table to hold the map down. He looked inside and pulled out an inkwell a few moments later, using the remaining ink inside to plot the location of Vilverin properly down on his map.

As he then began to check his equipment properly, he looked up at his new companion.
"I suppose it is your turn to tell me your name, isn't it?"

The setting changes from Imperial City to Cyrodiil

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Riskan observed Bradon as he checked his inventory and scrawled an 'x' using an ink-less quill. It was peculiar, but Riskan kept silent. He didn't bother remembering his middle names, though, just his surname and forename. He knew it was a Breton name. So he MUST be a mage!

This cheered him up greatly. Wizards and magic-users could gain entry into the Mage's Guild, and that meant he could get soul gems for his damned sword. Although, the golden shimmer of the metal accompanied by the red glow on the edges was probably enough to scare away most faint-hearted enemies anyway.

Then, back at the inn, Riskan watched as the position of Vilverin was marked, a smile creeping on his face. Then, Bradon asked for his name. He thought it may be worth telling his new companion of his title as well.

"Riskan Ebonhand, or Riskan The Unbroken. Riskan is fine, too." Riskan told him with a smile.

The setting changes from Cyrodiil to Imperial City

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"Riskan Ebonhand, or Riskan The Unbroken. Riskan is fine, too."

'Riskan the Unbroken'. A very lovely and perhaps prestigious title, one that Bradon liked and thought sounded good, terrifying even. He felt no shame walking around and traveling with a man called 'The Unbroken', it made his friend sound more dangerous and threatening, especially to those that would try and do them harm.

He smiled and chuckled a little as he rolled up his map and tucked it into one of the pockets on the side of his knapsack, before slinging it over his shoulder and smiling at his companion.

"So, Riskan the Unbroken," Bradon tried to make Riskan's name sound dangerous and prestigious as best he could. "Do you have everything you need for the journey ahead? We will be down in the ruin for a while, probably a day at the most."

Bradon rose from his seat and waited for an answer from his new companion, and started to watch the men and women looking around, doing their daily chores and routines.

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Any worries Riskan had about being laughed at due to his title were abandoned. At first, the chuckle seemed a slight patronizing, but then as Bradon spoke he realized the man was actually quite respectful. Riskan felt this friendship could go far, if neither died, anyway.

Riskan knew he may be feeling hopeful merely because of his troubled history in terms of relationships of any sort, but it never hurt to be optimistic, after all. Besides, Bradon appeared to be a nice man in general. Maybe he'd take a particular liking to Riskan.

"I often go delving into the wild or some sort of bandit hideout, so I always check my inventory before I leave any building, lest I overhear a rumour of a bounty and forget to check in my excitement. Riskan replied confidently with a smile.

The sunlight coming from the nearby windows was getting particularly bright, accompanied by the hustle and bustle of what Riskan assumed was the guards coming out for their morning rounds, and people walking to their workplaces.

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"I often go delving into the wild or some sort of bandit hideout, so I always check my inventory before I leave any building, lest I overhear a rumour of a bounty and forget to check in my excitement."

Riskan was definitely confident, and Bradon was pleased that he was, for someone that was as confident as Riskan was in his own abilities must be as good as they say, and Bradon was eager to see his new companion's combat abilities, knowing that there would probably be ancient enemies or undead creatures down in the depths of their destination.

"Well then, I am glad to be sharing the road with someone as talented at combat as you." Bradon walked away from the table whilst still talking to Riskan, standing on the cobble road, his scepter still banging against the cobbles. "Come, if we are to make it to Vilverin before nightfall, we must make haste."

Bradon set off down the cobbled street, taking in the sights of the Market District as well as continuing his watching of the Imperial City's many citizens, whom he was most intrigued by. He didn't stay long though, and was soon making his way through the different districts of the city, marveling at the ancient Ayleid architecture on display for him to look at.

Bradon knew, after all of his research and in-depth reading of multiple books on the subject, that the Imperial City was indeed built by the ancient Ayleids, and was the center of Ayleid civilization, the White Gold tower shining as a beacon in the Cyrodiilic sky, which it still is today.

But all of his knowledge came from the books he had read during his adventures across Tamriel, and to see the Ayleid craftsmanship first-hand and with his own eyes was remarkable, to say the least. It made him more excite to delve into the Ayleid ruins and see what the architecture inside an ancient Ayleid city was like, and so it made him pick up the pace.

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Bradon's compliment of Riskan's talent in combat- Riskan made a mental note to show him his prowess with both swords- improved Riskan's opinion of Bradon as well as his fervour for adventure, raising his spirits and mental energy.

As they made their way through the crowd of the Market District, Riskan observed the various shops and wondered if any of them sold useful items such as potions or (affordable) weaponry. However, that was a task for another day. Vilverin was the beginning of their many battles together.

Riskan noticed his companion's eagerness to set off for Vilverin, and wondered if he could easily make a map after their exploration of the ruin. Although he was an explorer and an amateur cartographer, Riskan didn't want to be trapped in Vilverin; some of the Dwemer cities he had visited in Skyrim were so vast he had to live off bandit provisions to live through his search for the exits.

Riskan was sure Bradon could navigate with ease through an Ayleid ruin if he was so eager to explore it. Either that, or a trap would claim his life. Riskan would make sure to stop the man from being impaled, or sliced, or any other fate that may befall the unlucky inside a ruin.

"I hope you're a seasoned adventurer or a mage, at least. There's bound to be bandits at a ruin so close to the city." Riskan advised him, keeping a brisk jog to keep up with the excited Bradon. It didn't tire him, he was used to running long distances.

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"I hope you're a seasoned adventurer or a mage, at least. There's bound to be bandits at a ruin so close to the city."

The two men walked as they talked, and Bradon did not mind doing so. Although he was fascinated by the entire Imperial City, he could walk the streets of the famous city many a time in the future, despite his willingness to look at them and walk them at this very moment. No, he liked to talk to people, it allowed him to make allies, friends and companions for the future, should he need them in the future if he was in trouble.

They had made it to the Talos Plaza District in the short space of time that they hadn't talked, and so they stood in front of the large dragon statue that was dotted in the middle of the plaza, a fine ornament, Bradon thought it was. He looked around the Plaza and saw the multiple doors that obviously led to houses for the rich men and women of the Imperial City. There was obviously a divide between the rich, the middle-class and the poor in the Imperial City, as he had seen many beggars wandering the streets whilst he walked through the City.

He was not phased by this though, he had seen many beggars in many different provinces, some brought down by their own stupid habits or addictions, others brought into the life of poverty for reasons not their own. Either way, Bradon could never imagine such a thing, and that was why he lived the life of a 'hermit', as he had been called once.

"Mage, yes." Bradon smirked and nodded his head. "Seasoned adventurer? Definitely. I have explored caverns, cities and ruins from High Rock to Elsweyr, and I have traveled great distances on my trusty steed whilst I have done such deeds."

Bradon continued to smirk, his vanity and egotistical nature shining through his facial expressions and his eyes. He held himself in high regard, and always had done, coming from a wealthy family in High Rock. He knew that he shouldn't think himself better than others, but sometimes he couldn't help himself, and that shone through his manners and happy-go-lucky personality multiple times whilst he spoke in a regular conversation.

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Riskan could tell this man had an interest in architecture; His eagerness for the Ayleid ruins, his observation of Imperial structures. most would call it an obsession, perhaps, but Riskan felt he could understand how a person reacts around their favourite things. Much like when Riskan managed to climb to the top of a tree once unharmed.

While they passed through the Talos Plaza, Riskan noticed the guards here were a little more idle and some children stared in awe at the statue. A small smile came onto Riskan's face; he found the antics of children quite amusing.

Bradon confirmed he was a mage. Good. And he apparently had explored High Rock and Elsweyr? Interesting. But Riskan had charted Skyrim, and Riskan grinned as he knew nobody else would go to such lengths unless it meant payment or fame. In fact, he was sure he was the only person in Tamriel to bother drawing a map of the towns, too.

"Ah, but..." Riskan began with a proud smile on his face, taking a sheet of rolled up paper from his bag and extending it to reveal an illustration of the northern province, Skyrim written in ink at the top. "Have you charted any of the harsh lands?" Riskan smirked slightly,

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Bradon watched as Riskan pulled a rolled up piece of paper from his bag and rolled it out before Bradon, showing him a map of the nothern provinces, or Skyrim, with the name of the province inked at the top. Bradon stared intently at the title of the map and smiled. Riskan's handwriting, in Bradon's opinion, was very elegant, especially for a Nord. He appreciated a man that took pride in making letters look nice and to have his handwriting look extravagant and elegant, and he smiled at Riskan with appreciation in his eyes as he looked at the map.

"Ah, but..." Riskan had a proud smile on his face, and seemed to be very proud of his work. "Have you charted any of the harsh lands?"

Bradon chuckled and rolled up the map once again, handing it back to its creator and once again smiling with appreciation as he did so. He was glad that he took pride in his work, it was something that Riskan should be proud of, but with Bradon being the egotistical and vain man that he was, he had to make sure he was better than his new companion.

"Why, yes I have." Bradon smiled and patted Riskan on the shoulder. "Whilst I was in Hammerfell, I trekked across the Alik'r desert with a group of traders, and I have waded through the swamps of Black Marsh and meditated with the Saxhleel, or Argonians as they are also called."

Bradon chuckled and began walking off again, getting a few steps ahead before turning back to Riskan and smiling once again. "You are a very good cartographer, Ser Ebonhand, and you should take pride in your handwriting, for both are excellent things indeed."

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Riskan grinned as he saw Bradon pore over the map with what he thought was an intrigued or interested expression. Riskan knew Bradon should be impressed with a 'mere Nord' doing such feats of mental exercise. The 'Ser Ebonhand' amused him, inducing a deep laugh from him.


Riskan carefully slid the paper back into his knapsack, the other sheets a reminder of his great drawings and writing. He wondered if this man was actually just a traveller rather than an explorer. Surely, nobody could have trekked all of Tamriel and visited its caverns and ruins without growing wrinkles...

Strolling along at a brisk pace, he let Bradon speak and smiled politely and then brightly at his compliment. Though the shoulder-patting was peculiar (However, he made no comment on this friendly-seeming gesture).

"I aim to draw up Cyrodiil as well, and mark all the Ayleid ruin locations. Perhaps someone in the country will be interested in the artifacts." Riskan spoke, smiling as his spirits were raised from the various compliments and accolades.

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The two men strolled through the city, taking in the sights whilst also talking among themselves. It was a merry gathering, one that Bradon enjoyed quite a bit. He hadn't been with anybody since he left Valenwood, and to find someone to travel with as soon as he arrived in Cyrodiil was amazing, to say the least. He hoped that they would find something down in Vilverin, something that would significantly help further Bradon's research into the Ayleids or, even better if, bring Bradon a nice sum of gold that he could use to spend on things he wanted.

In all honesty, Bradon was a very sly and devilish man and often used his charm and wits to outsmart opponents and turn them against each other. Sure, it had worked a charm in many of the provinces, but he had heard of the sly tongue of the Imperial race, and so thought that he would have to use the sharp end of his scepter a lot more than he had done before, which he was a little excited about doing. Bradon loved the scepter that he currently held in his hand; it made him feel powerful.

He had received it as a thank-you from a wealthy nobleman in Hammerfell, one of the Forebears, Bradon remembered him to be. He had done a deed for him and was rewarded justly for his time, something that Bradon enjoyed being compensated for. But in truth, the scepter had been one of Bradon's longest allies, and had saved him on multiple occasions, with its ability to be used as both a magical staff and a deadly polearm.

"I aim to draw up Cyrodiil as well, and mark all the Ayleid ruin locations. Perhaps someone in the country will be interested in the artifacts." Riskan seemed to be very interested in cartography. Bradon appreciated a man with a hobby such as cartography, it took a real mind and patience to get it right, and it showed him that Riskan was more than just a burly, strong Nord with a fancy title and large muscles.

No, Bradon knew that Riskan was a very intelligent man, and perhaps he was more than just a simple warrior and cartographer. Maybe he was a hunter? Or a navigator? Or maybe he was a survivalist? Bradon could not tell from looking at his companion, but then again, Bradon had secrets of his own that he liked to hide. Not many people knew of Bradon's origin, in what family he was born, because be did not like to tell them. He was the black sheep, the outcast, the part of the family that was different and disrespected tradition. Sure, that wasn't something that should be treated as a bad thing, but Bradon did so because he knew it was not what was expected of him back in High Rock.

"My friend, if you wish to draw up Cyrodiil, I would gladly aid you," Bradon smiled and talked whilst he walked. "And I have heard of multiple men across Cyrodiil are ancient Ayleid artifact collectors, maybe we shall get lucky and be paid a handsome amount of gold for what we find in Vilverin."

Bradon smiled with a hint of selfishness and devilishness, before he passed through the tunnel between the Talos Plaza District and the Imperial City walls, heading out into the City Isle.

The setting changes from Imperial City to Cyrodiil

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Riskan didn't worry about telling his new companion about anything personal; He was sure Bradon was at least somewhat wary of his stature and the two impressive blades he carried. Most people, even a few guards, spoke carefully to this Nord brute. Riskan smiled to himself at how much Imperials, Altmer, or any other race took Nords to be all barmaids and barbarians.

They crowds would talk about Riskan and Bradon for centuries; The mage and the warrior who sweeped all of the Ayleid ruins clean, purging the land of bandits and other monsters.

Like daedra!

Riskan had forgotten about the Crisis in the time he and his friend had been talking. A small feeling of panic rose in Riskan; Was it even possible to overcome the creatures? He imagined they'd be twenty feet high with claws and fangs, or like the Xivilai, who held great magical powers and had weapons beyond Orcish or Elven material...
But Riskan pulled himself together. That was a battle in another war, as he liked to say, and right now the ruins were his goal.

Riskan listened to Bradon talk with a smile, then his smile broadening at the mention of 'a handsome amount of gold'. That indeed was quite alluring. But Riskan promised himself he'd make sure not to let Bradon manipulate or use him for this objective.

As they passed through the huge walls of the city, abandoning the busy populace, Riskan thought up a response while observing the location with a curious look;
"Well thank you very much, Bradon. I'm sure a powerful mage, judging by that staff, could annihilate necromancers or other wizards." Riskan added, hoping to get the man into a very good mood.