Tamriel Rebuilt

Excellent work, gentlemen/ladies. Just gave it a quick runthrough, and I can say it's pretty amazing. It makes me, as well, feel bad I left. But that's life.

Wow, this stuff is looking stunning. Good job, everyone.

That mace is so bad ass, if it were a person, would routinely curb stomp people for dancing to their iPods.

I like it, although the strands might stand to be a bit thinner and more ornamental, as opposed to so industrial and bulky. Right now it looks as if the mirror is sending out tendrils to protect itself from an assault by the Hulk.

And yet none of them are as well made as this map. At least not last time I checked.

The weapons do look great, the only thing I might say is that the texture on the... uh... little gray dots on the weapons could be changed to something other than a solid color. It kind of detracts from the rest of the texture as is.

Awesome, great job guys. Always cool to get recognition, and cool hard cash isn't anything to be ashamed of either!

No need to wait for Haplo, there's an old, defunct, and out-of-touch member here to help you!

[url=http://imageshack.us]Imageshack.us[/url]

It's a really nice site. I use it for all my various image uploading needs... basically because it's easy and I'm too lazy to find anywhere else.

Excellent music, though it doesn't really seem that they would be good "wandering" music; they all seem too grand for that. Also, the midi type sound is distracting, but with better sound samples I'm sure it could be really good. You've got the themes down great, it's just hard to imagine ...

Always glad to come visit my favorite internet forums when I get the chance.

The head reminds me of one of those Big Mouth Billy Bass things you see on barroom walls occasionally. I almost expect it to break out into "Don't Worry Be Happy". ;) Actually ,it looks really great. With a bit more work and a proper texture, I think it would fit perfectly as a pillars/wal...

That was a very interesting read. Thanks, guys!

Psyborg! Get back to TR! :-) *Haplo waves* *Psyborg waves back* A crackpot who lives on the streets, and can't get the idea out of his head that he is the Nerevarine. If you are the Nerevarine (this is for the Morrowind part of the mod, right? Well, I hope so...), and can convince him that you are,...

Hm... looking at this timeline, I see that it is right after I left that everything started shooting up in awesomeness. I fear I may have some terrible undiscovered superpower... this seems to happen to me everywhere I go...

Hope for another good year!

A healer who is constantly trying to bleed out people's "bad humours" with leeches/scribs. An ex-thief who now designs locks for storekeepers but continues to do a bit of stealing on the side. A Bosmer who was lost and eventually had to succumb to eating fresh fruits and veggies, ripe off ...

Post'd. Unfortunately, your promise regarding my Shamrock Shake has not been fulfilled. My faith in the system is shaken to it's core.

Huzzah! Part three es finito.

(On that note, my Shamrock Shake is almost finito as well. Darn.)

Still going- book 3 is almost complete, but RL has been a bit hectic lately and I haven't had time to finish it. Probably by the end of the week I'll have something up.

I always just assumed they were privately owned by the Silt Strider "drivers", to whom I gave the name "Commandeers" (as a noun... I figured taking a verb and changing it into a noun that meant not-at-all the same thing was easier than finding out the correct word in Dunmeri), in...

Whoops! You're right. I'll fix both of those problems right now.

Amongst Thieves
by Sesetter Twile



Book One

And now dear reader, let me spin you a tale. But be warned! ‘Tis not one of glory, riches, or love, nor is it a tale of dances, war, or the heavens above - ‘Tis a tale of death and deceit and murder and theft; of horrors, of darkness, and of killers most deft. This is not a tale of a pauper fallen in with princes, nor of princes and their baubles and coin; this is a tale of a pauper fallen in amongst thieves, and of murderers and dishonor and those who purloin. So a warning to thee; if thy constitution is said to lack, put down this story and never look back.

---

These were desperate times, and as Corr crouched behind an abandoned traveler's cart in a squalid back alley situated in the worst part of the most dilapidated section of Cyrodiil, his fingers covered in grime and his own blood grasping a stolen half-loaf of bread, he thought of his grandfather. Had his grandfather seen him now, hidden from pursuing city guards so far from his high-bred Altmer home... well, he didn't know what he would do. His grandfather had beaten his sister within an inch of her life for kissing a Breton boy when she was twelve- for disgracing the family name and living here, off scraps and stolen bread, Corr's grandfather would most likely kill him in cold blood. He had been rumored to murder business associates for much less.

Corr's knees began to ache. His grandfather, of course, did not know where he was. Corr had borrowed thousands of Septims from the family treasury in order to start his diamond shop in Cyrodiil, but it was all gone now, and his grandfather was a very tight gripped miser.

There was a clatter from the street. He heard an orc grunt. "I think he went this way," growled another. Corr huddled down further, wishing sincerely that he was just a bit shorter and not so brightly skinned. The guards rounded the corner and gazed in the abandoned windows. They entered a door no more than six feet from where Corr was crouched. He held his breath and heard crashing sounds inside, then a door open and close. He risked a glimpse from where he sat with knees bent, and saw nothing on the deserted street. Realizing that they might reemerge from the deserted building on which his back faced at any moment and see him there, he leapt up and dashed across the cobblestone street.

He ran into the third orc like a brick wall. Corr fell back against the stones paving the ground and tried to crawl away as the armored guardsman laughed raspily and picked him up by his tattered and torn shirt, once made of the finest silks but now one would be hard pressed to find anything fine about it. The orc grinned, baring his sharp, crooked teeth and breathed his foul, stale stench into Corr's face. "Dur'ok like bread," he growled lightheartedly, and tore the half-loaf from Corr's hands. He popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, then raised his fist and brought it down on Corr's high Altmer forehead.

***

When Corr awoke, he was sideways on a cold dirt floor. He tasted the inside of his cheek to find a fair amount of dried blood, and then coughed painfully. He lifted his arm with a fair amount of exertion and felt his ribs- two were definitely broken, and one other probably was. He raised his eyes to the door of the cell he was laying in and saw an Imperial Guard standing there, finishing off a meal. The guard glanced down at him.

"Fifteen days in jail. Consider yourself lucky they didn't kill you while you were out."

The man then began to pick a piece of meat from between his teeth with a small dagger. Corr pushed himself up painfully onto his elbow, and put one hand through the bars in the door. "Please... sir... I need... food..."

The guard looked down at him disdainfully. "Dinner will be in six hours, if you behave yourself." Apparently having dislodged the fragment of horsemeat from between his teeth, he turned and left Corr to his thoughts.

***

Fifteen days later, Corr was thrown from the jail with a quick beating and a stern warning. He landed in the street and slowly got up to find somewhere to sleep. The streets were endless, with each step shooting pain through his abdomen and his ribs, but by putting one foot after the other he finally found a back alley to rest in just as night fell. He closed his eyes.

"Corr Tanum." He opened his eyes and squinted at the bright morning sun. A Dunmer stood over him, a silhouette in the blinding light. "You will meet a Khajiit female at midnight, in the Tavern of the Twelve Tails. She will respond to the name 'Silver Tongue'. You may be early, but do not be one second late. Tell no one." Corr shielded his eyes to see the dark elf more clearly, but he was gone.

He grimaced into the sun. "Well," he thought to himself, "it's not like I have any prior appointments to attend." Corr then set about finding the Tavern of the Twelve Tails.

--- --- ---

Book Two


The higher one goes in life, the more theft looks like a crime - but the lower one sinks; theft begins to look like a society fine. Theft is sometimes a matter of relieving great strife - yet it too can be but another way of life.


---

The Tavern of the Twelve Tails, Corr discovered moments after entering the seedy establishment, seemed to be a Khajiit only pub. Nowhere could he see a head not covered in fur and jewelry- the slanted cat-eyes of the denizens of this place rested on him suspiciously, then slipped away, as if a serpent through oils. The air clouded with various smokes, of which Corr could only identify one or possibly two. A male cat person with extraordinarily long lip hairs and his tall ears pierced with every color imaginable dispensed drinks slowly to the waiting customers, all while keeping his eyes set firmly on Corr.

Not knowing where to start on his quest to find this "Silver Tongue", and feeling rather stupid about the whole matter, the Altmer turned to leave through the door he had entered seconds before. Instead of passing through the doorway, however, he nearly collided with a barrel-chested male Khajiit standing in his way, rising up and down on the balls of his furry feet. "You are here to see Silvertongue, yes?" Still reeling from the shock, Corr nodded dumbly. The Khajiit rolled his tongue, picked him up, and turned him around to face the tavern, which was now captivated by these antics, and grinning their special catlike grins. "You aren't going to find her outside, then. She's in the first table to your left." The Khajiiti roared with laughter until their fur was damp with tears. Corr stumbled to where the cat person had pointed, his light skin burning fiercely with embarrassment. He sat down with a thump and stared furiously at a knot in the wooden table.

"You are Corr Tanum, yes?" Silvertongue rolled the ‘R’s in his name, but differently than most of the breeds of Khajiit Corr had come across in Cyrodiil. He looked up and saw a smiling face, covered in soft down fur; all light tan except for a dark triangle on her forehead. She wore a blouse embroidered with a thin blue tree, the leaves made of orange thread, over which she wore an amulet bearing an odd light-refracting stone of blood-red hue.

"Um... yes. Yes, I am. How do you know my name?" Silvertongue blinked.

"It is my business to know these things, Altmer. For instance, I know you were just let out of prison for theft, yes?" Corr nodded. "...yes. And you are the son of the late Lesin Tanum, grandson of wealthy merchant Naptoc Tanum, yes? Good. I am Silvertongue, one of the Thieves Guild members in this part of Cyrodiil. I wish to offer you placement in our... association."

Corr looked Silvertongue full in the face. "Why?" he asked. "Sure, I stole a loaf of bread, but theft isn't my profession. Why single me out?" She smiled politely and leaned forward, putting her chin on her paw.

"To be honest, you're also a terrible thief. You were caught by three extremely stupid and easily evaded sentries. But I feel I must be square with you - we are not contacting you for your ability, but for your... background. There are very few high-class Altmer that would be willing to help us. But you, you are exactly what we need; someone with class, someone with charm, and someone to get us where we need to be. An inside man, if you will."

Corr stood up rapidly, his aristocratic airs returning through his grimy exterior and tattered outfit. "I'm no thief! I won't help you steal from anyone! And I won't be your 'inside man'!" He turned to leave.

"Where will you go, Corr?" He stopped, but did not turn around. "Out there, you have nowhere to go. You've disgraced your family, ruined your name and career - do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life wandering through the rotting streets of lower Cyrodiil, looking for an odd job to buy the next piece of bread so you won't starve? What I'm offering might not be palatable to your conscience right now, but it's not that bad a life. You'll always eat. With enough practice, you might even become a rich man of your own right. There is honor amongst thieves - you will be counted amongst our brothers. What do you say?"

Corr closed his eyes, then slowly turned and sat back down at the table. When he opened them, Silvertongue was sitting forward, looking at him.

"Good. Now, let's talk about your first job..."

Book Three

Amongst Thieves

By Sesetter Twile

Morals are a tricky thing- give an inch, give a mile; give a little, be prepared to drift for a long, long while.

Book Three

He was an alchemist, and a good one at that. He had grown up in Cyrodiil, but had moved to the forsaken ashlands of Vvardenfell to help with the construction of an Imperial fort, and had stayed to help by making various remedies for the ever-sick citizens and guards populating the fort and surrounding village. Once another alchemist had come in and was able to take his place, he came back to his homeland to practice his arts in a place favorably lacking in the constant racial slurs and sicknesses picked up from the plethora of contagious animals in Morrowind. Now that he had returned, he was looking for a place to set up shop.

At least this is what Corr told the tiny Bosmer landlord, his pointy ears perked, nodding. “Oh, yes, I have several places you could begin! I have an opening in this very building, actually, I could put you down-â€Â￾ Corr interrupted quickly.

“Actually, I was wondering if that lovely storefront above the... uh... diamond shop was open for me to buy. The one on this street. I believe I saw a sign on the door saying it was for sale?â€Â￾

The Wood Elf smiled, showing his extremely white teeth. “Oh, yes, the one that used to be a printer’s shop? I don’t know why that man retired so soon, business was booming, and- oh! Yes, it is for sale, but it’s quite expensive, so...â€Â￾

Corr waved his hand . “Money is no problem. Say what you may about the Imperials, they certainly do have a lot of money to shift around, and they pay experienced alchemists more than their worth. I like the way the storefront faces the street, seems a good place to advertise my wares.â€Â￾ The landlord squinted and then broke out into a huge grin. “Sounds good. If you’ll just come with me...â€Â￾


Corr sat behind the front desk with the sign “Armai Nessak: Alchemist", dealing with a whining customer while four thieves in the living quarters worked diligently to steal a soulgem from the room below.

The customer was droning on and on about some pain in her lower back. Corr pretended to be listening to her while hoping that wandering guard didn’t come back. He’d had enough trouble talking him away the first time, and he wasn’t sure that he could be so easily dissuaded the next.

Corr took this time to quietly reflect on how well he was doing. Two weeks in the Thieve's Guild, and the only law broken so far by him is using fabricated papers for identification. To be sure, the theft occuring behind him in the back room was quite illegal, and he was sure whatever means had been used to convince the previous owner of the establishment to give up business was certainly illegal, but Corr had done neither of these things. In fact, he had probably helped several people by giving them treatments for their various ailments in his time in the Thieve's Guild.

The customer had begun to gesticulate wildly, and Corr thought this the perfect time to come out of his trance and explain how this specific health potion would clear up the back pain for a very special low price. She left the store with four bottles while Corr pocketed the Septims and smiled, then turned to go into the back room and see how things were going.

As he reached for the handle, the outside door swung open. Corr swiveled and saw the same guard as had been snooping around before walk in and stare directly at him.

"Armai Nessak. I've been getting complaints all day about scraping noises coming from your back room. Is someone in there?"

"Um, yes... it was me, I was doing inventory, and-"

The guard narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Is there anyone in there- now?" He began to walk towards the door. Corr moved in front of it with his body. "Uh... yes, I have some relatives over from... their house, and they were staying with me, but I think they're sleeping-"

The guard unsheathed his sword and motioned Corr out of the way. Corr very reluctantly moved, but then knocked quickly on the door. "Wake up, guys, there's a guard he-" He was shoved out of the way and the guard opened the door.

One of the thieves was speaking in the back as the door opened. "We got it, guys. This thing is easily worth a couple-" He turned to look. "What do you want, Tanum? We're-" His eyes opened wide when they focused on the guard, a silhouette in the doorway.

"Down on the floor!" the guard roared. "Everybody! You too, Nissak- if that's your real name." Corr sank to the floor. He'd been caught, and now he was going to go to jail. His grandfather was sure to find him, and he would most likely have him killed for falling in amongst thieves and desecrating the family name. The guard turned away from him and put his sword to one of the thief's throats.

Another thief, already on the floor, looked up at Corr. "Tanum!" he hissed. Corr raised his head. "Get this to Silvertongue at all costs!" He slid a small bag with a palm-sized object inside over to him. Corr scrabbled for it and got it off the wooden floor, then looked up at the guard, who was still threatening the thieves. He leapt up and ran out of the store into the bright sun shining on the streets of Cyrodiil.

Looks good, Lady N. However, I think that the blue seems a little too fresh and clean cut compared to the tatteryness (is this a word?) of the rest of it. Try weathering the symbols a little more, but other than that, tis' shiny.

Okee doke. Bump, and all that, but just as an extra special treat...

I've put up the second section of Amongst Thieves on the first post. Feel free to tear it apart.

'ello, mates. I doubt any of you remember me, but I used to write stories! And here's my latest attempt after not writing for billions and billions of years. It's part one, obviously it will continue. If y'all like it. Amongst Thieves By Sesetter Twile And now, dear reader, let me spin you a tale. ...

I agree. It's a bit too "out there" (though there are giant walking bug-transports and magic forks in the game... so who am I to talk?)for the setting. I agree there needs to be public flyers dispersed throughout some of the more populous cities, but not ones with "Almelexia Marries S...

Resadyn wrote: Holy Fric thats way to big in my opinion.

AGREE'D! I like it the size it is now- makes it seem more like a pest, kinda' like scrib, which is what I assume we're going for (?).

I thought centurions were named as such because they tried to kill you (because... you know... centurions were the leaders of a hundred pack of footsoldiers back in good ol' Rome). Ah well. No matter. Anyway, here's mine. Howabout' Bombardier-Obviously, it drops bombs on stuff. Fun. Excavator-It exc...

So... now I get a free piece of scrap metal and a lack of Dexter-insults, right? Hm, well, seeing as Dex never insulted me before this, he'd sure as heck better start afterwards!

Anyway, cool, glad to hear I could be some help(?) to the project.

The highlights give him strong cheekbones, and make him look meaner and stronger. My thoughts exactly. By the way, do you (Dexter) or anyone else (anyone else) think I should perhaps add another scar down the left- his right, our left- side of his face, or is the one eye scar good enough? I really ...

Haj- I actually did blind the eye once, just to see how it would look- I dunno', it didn't really seem to fit with the character. Even though obviously anyone of any age can be blinded by a sword gash across the cornea, putting it in doesn't really add to the hardiness of the character, it makes the...

Retexture so it looks the same but not all stretched out, or totally retextured?

It might actually work in game, and actually be kind of fun (i.e. draw you into the character), but wolfcross: OW! OW! YOUR AVATAR TAKES UP HALF OF MY SCREEN! OW! OW! It doesn't automatically resize, so you're going to have to do that manually. Just letting you know. --Oh yeah, and you could just ma...

Ah, nuts.

Well, glad to see you'll still be around...

[img]http://img330.imageshack.us/img330/4496/txbnredguardmh030wy.jpg[/img]

Okee doke. I downplayed the scar a little, and changed it's position and... well, I changed the scar a bit. I can get rid of it completely, if you'd like, but... anyway, it's up there. Hope you like it...

Well no, I'm not saying I should get rid of it. I just thought I could do better.
But, if you think it looks fine, then I'll keep it in. Now that I've looked at it for a while, it doesn't look that bad.

Hi. Here's the updated texture... [img]http://img44.imageshack.us/img44/7773/darnell10gw.jpg[/img] I'm not too pleased about the scar in the hair, it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, but that's a'ight. And here's a CS shot I made- I think I might have used the wrong head, but it gets the poin...

Will do, but... (yawn)... tomorrow.

Psyborg out

Hey, congrats, good jorb, thumbs up, you guys. And good luck.

[img]http://img165.imageshack.us/img165/2923/txbnredguardmh034la.jpg[/img]

My try for today. He really doesn't look all that angry to me, maybe just a little pouty. I'll try again some other time, but right now--- eh.

(sirwoot... yours gives me the creeps)

Sooooooooooooooo... here's another. (by the way, is anybody actually thinking about making these? I mean, not all of them are crap... some could be workable models, right? And necromancers need critters, right? Right? Right? Eh.) [img]http://img304.imageshack.us/img304/9505/lawrence3ew.jpg[/img] Not...