Character Reference: Xiran Yu

The other half of the crime fighting duo that is Ling and Xiran keeping Raven Rock just a little bit safer...but not from Ash Spawn those things are the guards problem

 Full name: Xiran Yu

Languages spoken: Common, Dunmeri (south-western Vvardenfell dialect)

Birthday: June 18th 3E 400

Age: 27

Height: 5’3”

Weight: 135

Eye color: Red

Hair color: Black (Dyed Brown)

Race: Dunmer

Significant other: none

Children: none

Class: Rogue

Profession: Detective (special populations division)

Gender: Female

Gender expression: Feminine

Pronouns: She/her

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic

Known disabilities: Dysgraphia

Siblings: none

Parents: Fuhai and Beihe Yu

Current Residence: Raven Rock, Solstheim

Aliases/Also Known As: Detective Yu

A Much Needed Spa Day (Naomi)

Prompt: A much needed spa day

While the terrain of Morrowind is often rugged, unforgiving, and often quite hot due to the lava pools, the country does have the occasional tolerable region or natural environment that one could even consider pretty. Having spent far too much time wandering the ash wastes and foyada’s I wearily find myself walking toward one of those havens of tolerable climate. Civilization at last, and whoever is in charge really needs to repair the road system…and in some regions, create one. One positive aspect of the often unforgiving country is it’s wealth of hot springs that in some cases are used for bathing. Nodding hello tiredly to the guard as I pass through the gates I’m given directions to the nearest bath house and where I can get some rest. I think that’s the nicest thing someone’s done for me since I’ve been here, aside from Fyr buying me a small folding fan that has come in handy many a time. I knock on the door of the bath house upon reaching my destination in the far south-western corner of Balmora and a young woman answers the door before letting me inside and taking my cloak and other outer layers. At the counter I tell the woman running the place I’m there for a bath and pay the price for it before being given a small wooden token. Other women sit or lay around, some getting massages, others sit in elegant silk robes having their nails painted with intricate designs, and more in the other room relax in the warm waters of the natural hot spring. I store my clothes in a small locker and change into something more suitable. Many of the women prefer to bathe with nothing, though I prefer to wear at least something when I’m public. Modesty, and sanitation, are two rather important concepts in my ideological system. No one seems to mind as I sink into the warm water and I spot Naryu Virian, the Morag Tong agent I keep running into, from across the spring. She seems to ignore me, though I’m sure she notices my presence as the only foreigner here aside from a blonde woman who works for the fighters guild. While I soak and relax  a couple of women around my age start up a conversation with me. The three of us come to the conclusion that during this stormy, cold, dreary week this is a much needed spa day.

I'm Still Here (Lucien)

Mini prompt: I’m Still Here

Despite everything people still seem to not entirely understand me, truthfully they never have. Regardless of how much I try to make myself known, or change to fit the standards of society, or belong, it doesn’t work. It’s not so bad though, at least I know who I am, even if I still want to feel like I belong. In the end I’m still here, and they can’t tell me who to be. I’ll keep living for me, and me alone. Even so, the world is full of twisted words and lies, backstabbing and treachery, unchanging and ever going on. I think about it late one night sitting in the corner of the sanctuary while everyone else sleeps. Ocheeva and her brother had gone to bed hours ago, as did many of the other members, Vicente more recently decided it was time for a nap in his coffin, and Issy is away on a contract for the fighters guild. It only leaves me awake, or more accurately me and Jeff the dark guardian who wanders the halls. The creaking of bones as he walks back and forth on patrol can be heard even from my little corner where I sit thinking and attempting to figure out the remains of a puzzle. I should have gone home, but the rain that unexpectedly showed up put a damper on my plans, so I’m stuck here for the night. In theory I could brave the rain, though I’m not sure I want to end up soaked by the time I get home. It’s better just to stay here for night, to sit up and think. It has been too long since I have been in the sanctuary for any significant amount of time, lately most of my time has been taken up with meetings of the Black Hand who seem to enjoy bossing me around. While having my position comes with certain perks, I still end up lacking that feeling of belonging. My absence from the sanctuary makes that more pointed, as the Black Hand may try to tell me who to be, but I’m not what they see in a typical member, and so deep down I keep dreaming. One day I’ll find a place to belong, somewhere where I fit in, and in the meantime I’m still here, with the small amount of people who do care. The faint creaking of bones and the flickering torch light in the dimly lit sanctuary reminds me of that, and that is a comforting fact so late at night.

Lost In The Storm (Everan)

 Prompt: Lost in the storm

Why I ever agreed to take a job that would bring me to the snowy northern mountains of Skyrim is beyond me, even if it’s to help scout for The Blades. Oh how I wish I could be back at home in the sun and warmth of Summerset in spring! Instead I trudge, muttering to myself, ever on and on through the snow- lost in the storm. Will I die from hypothermia in this accursed country? I’m lost! I am absolutely and completely lost! Attempts to look at the map are futile with the biting winds and swirling snow, and so I abandon my mission for the meantime in search of some form of shelter, even if it may be a cave infested with bandits…or worse. After some blind stumbling through the snow I come across a cave mouth, and find it occupied only by a few bandits too tired to put up much of a fight. A pacify spell keeps them calm enough to let me rest and wait out the storm with them. Night falls quickly in this frozen wasteland even in spring. By the time morning comes the snow and wind have lightened a bit, enough to continue my journey. The only problem is I remain lost. The bandits are of little help so I decide to hurry along before the spell wears off and they turn hostile once more. I don’t seem to be all that far from where it is I’m supposed to be scouting out, though I have no idea which direction I’m supposed to go in. The storm has covered any tracks that could serve as clues. I look at a few of the trees dotting the mountains looking for any sort of landmark that could help, and while they prove unhelpful I do notice something that could prove very useful. From behind one of the snow covered trees the figure of a little girl holding a lantern pokes her head out and beckons me to follow, beginning to walk away. I attempt to run to catch up to her as she stops every so often and turns toward me, holding up her lantern as if to look to make sure I’m following. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I pant as I scramble through the heavy snow, and get an understanding smile in return before she turns again and continues walking, almost floating above the snow. Tiny footprints seem to disappear at a moment's notice. Eventually I’m led to a large compound high in the mountains surrounded by high walls and metal fencing. I go to say thank you, as I had not summoned an ancestral spirit, though I find nobody to be there when I turn to either side. The wind is beginning to pick up again, I need to find somewhere to shelter for the night. Perhaps even within the compound, if I can find a way in. So long as I am not once again lost in the storm.

Anna And The Terrible No Good Very Bad Day (Farkas)

Mini prompt: Down Bad

Lately there has been something off about Anna. Odd, unusual, out of the ordinary, and she refuses to talk about it. At this point I’m not even sure she’s aware of it, but something is up. She’s jittery, seemingly anxious, whiny, and prone to sometimes intense mood swings. One moment she’ll be threatening an annoying and not particularly trustworthy merchant, and the next she’ll be sweet and asking for a hug. When asked what’s wrong her only response is “pain.” with no further elaboration. All I know is she is experiencing pain somewhere, but she does not tell me where, how bad it is, or how long it’s been there. As I sit across the room watching Anna make and scratch out a to do list I attempt to think of a plan to get her to talk. Now under what circumstances does she divulge information she wouldn’t usually tell a soul? That thought gives me an idea that I keep in mind for later, waiting until the time is right.

It takes another day or two for all the circumstances to align for my plan to be enacted. One of the more recent yet not overly surprising developments has been a want of intimacy, though interestingly enough she seems uninterested in actual human touch and staunchly refuses to wear anything less than a tee shirt and shorts. That of all things gives me a clue as to where the pain problem might be originating from. Once satisfied enough with a few well placed touches and a kiss or two Anna flops against the mattress with a happy and somewhat stupid smile, content to just lay there for a while. “Are you going to tell me where it hurts now?” I ask leaning over her and her expression changes rapidly to a frown and a glare of annoyance. However I do at least get an answer as she points downward toward her lower abdomen and mumbles about something being bad. I sit back, my theory seems to have been correct. “Anna, did you get your period? Is that why you’re in pain?” To that question I get a barely audible but clearly annoyed “Yes.” Though the annoyance seems to be more directed at her own body than at me. “Why didn’t you just say so?” To that she shrugs, and informs me that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, there’s a reason certain medications exist, and that is one of them. I seem to have opened the floodgates to what I find has been three weeks of repressed hormonally induced frustration, annoyance, and above all no insignificant amount of pain. At least she does seem to be feeling slightly better with the endorphins rushing through her system and ranting about the workings and mistakes of the human body. We all cope with pain in different ways, it seems this is one of hers.

Prank War (Lucien)

 “Lucien, I have a problem…” Issy sits, one leg hooked over the arm of the chair looking at a pile of papers. “Wrong, we have a problem…What’s the problem?” She holds up one of the papers “I am in need of your expertise with chaos and the like. I have to annoy Captain Lex enough that he goes to Anvil, Thieves guild business.” Hieronymus Lex, always hated that guy. He can never get my wanted posters to look right. “What kinda chaos?” I question, taking the paper. Typical thieves guild orders, cryptic and short, straight to the point. “Essentially a prank war.” Issy replies. “I’m in.” I put the paper down and walk over to the table, where I had been preparing more poison apples. The next part of the plan? A trip to the Imperial City to learn his routine and plan our tactics.

Later that night I find myself unable to sleep, too many thoughts bouncing around in my head. Issy had left hours ago, had to go back to Bruma for the next couple of days, and we had decided to rendezvous in the Imperial City next week. Sitting up in bed, somehow still full of energy I throw the covers back- did I remember to take my meds? I think I did, but I’m not sure. If I didn't, that would explain why I’m more hyperactive and with more racing thoughts than usual. Grabbing my guitar I strum a few notes and realize Issy had left the papers from the Thieves Guild here by accident. Looking them over a silly song idea pops into my head “Hieronymus Lex, I’m gonna get you someday Hieronymus Lex. I hope you understand that you are not my friend. Hieronymus Lex, I see you leaving with your imperial plans. Until we meet again. I hear you creeping around the corner, don’t wanna see your face around here no more... Hieronymus Lex, I see you leaving with your imperial plans, Lucien’s gonna get you soon Mr. Hieronymus Lex!” I work out the cords, and the tempo, and at some point end up running around my flat with a spoon singing it, however odd it may seem, it did at least make me tired. I write down the lyrics so I don’t forget them, Issy would probably find the whole idea thoroughly amusing.

I wake up to the sound of someone cutting something and roll over in bed, oh, it’s just Vicente. “When did you get here?” The vampire continues cutting the vegetables we had bought recently “Not long ago, I brought you breakfast.” Please just tell me it isn’t a severed goat head again. Luckily for me, it's just a pastry. With a mouth full of kouign amann I ask Vicente why he’s here, turns out, he just wanted to stop by and say hello, make sure I actually got groceries like I had said I would, and to take some of the poison apples I had made yesterday back to the sanctuary. I need to stop by there more often, usually when I go it's during a weekend when most of the others are off doing whatever it is they do on weekends. Most of the time it’s only Vicente, Issy, and one or two others, when Issy is not fighting Daedra and who knows what else. I make a mental note to stop by someday soon during the week to say hello, though preferably not when Matthieu Belemonte is around, he gives me a weird vibe…and I don’t think it’s only because I killed his mom as a kid…

After getting dressed and doing a bit of work Vicente and I decide to make lunch, particularly a dish called Kig ha-farz, a traditional dish of meats stewed with buckwheat stuffing, which quite literally translates when put from the original Breton into common as “meat and stuffing” and the assorted vegetables come in rather handy for. It’s nice, really, that despite growing up predominantly in Cyrodiil aside from my early childhood Vicente still makes a conscious effort to keep me connected to my Breton culture of origin. Sometimes I find I miss Daggerfall, but had I stayed there I have no idea how or where I would have ended up. I think it over as we cook, perhaps one of these days Issy and I will have to take a trip back to Daggerfall, the Iliac Bay is beautiful this time of year, perhaps we’ll bring Baurus with us too and take a quick side trip to Hammerfell as well. “What are you smiling about?” Vicente asks, drawing me out of my thoughts as he cuts up some of the meat for the stew. “Thinking Baurus, Issy and I should take a trip back to Daggerfall sometime soon.” Vicente hums “Bring me too, can show you all where I found a little Breton boy on the docks who had no concept of stranger danger.” Knowing that boy was me I roll my eyes, it would be interesting to see his view of the city, though. Vicente has seen quite a lot in the three hundred and some odd years he’s been alive and…well…unalive, too. I still remember the time he met Valan when he somehow ended up in Cheydinhal and the two bonded over their hatred of the island of Solstheim. Having never been I don’t exactly see what the fuss is about, it’s just an island with some strange events and vampires, but I digress, and from what they tell me the island doesn’t sound overly pleasant. Having finished cutting the meat Vicente adds it and allows it to cook until finished. Cooking the dish unfortunately takes several hours, hence the reason it’s not made regularly as neither of us often have that kind of time to sit around and wait, luckily today is one of the rare exceptions. No contracts to do, no other chores or tasks that need completing…aside from laundry perhaps, no today is a nice lazy day in which one can simply relax and plan for the week ahead.

Once the dish is finished and everything else is prepared we sit and eat and chat about a variety of topics before Vicente heads back to the quiet little city as nightfall approaches. It was a nice change of pace for a day and I have leftovers for tomorrow, always a good thing. Vicente even offered some information he’d gathered from the beggars regarding a certain imperial captain which should prove highly useful. It seems that the arcane university guards are also easily distractible and will often call for the captain if things go wrong. While not a student of the university myself, though I could be if I wanted to given Bretons having a natural affinity for magic. Isabelle however is enrolled there, having completed the rigorous and in my opinion outrageous, rather unethical, and in some cases almost cruel set of trials from each guildhall to gain admission. I still remember when I found her coughing up what could have been a small ocean after being nearly drowned on purpose when having to recover an enchanted ring from a well for the Cheydinhal guild chapter. The mages never bothered to tell her it had a burden enchantment until after it was retrieved. That reminds me, I may find her at the university in the imperial city, I know that’s where she was heading after meeting with The Blades, exams are coming up apparently. Laying in bed waiting for sleep to take me I’m glad in a way that I never had to be subject to exams, I don’t think I’d do very well on them personally, Vicente tutored me of course, in mathematics, reading, writing, and the like, but in a way that provided room for exploration and tailoring to the way I best retain information which is by doing. As a child to learn math we’d go on walks and count the different kinds of trees or flowers, reading practice would involve whatever books were in the local bookshop or sanctuary that were appropriate, writing and spelling involved not one, not two, but three languages. Common, my native Breton, and Daedric for some reason, though I must admit in this day and age the last one has come in handy more often than I’d like to admit. It’s also helpful if one ever visits Morrowind, most signage is written in the characters after all and not all establishments cater to outlanders or include a translation, some speaking and operating entirely on the traditional Dunmer language and writing system. I could have gone to school if I really wanted to, but it was easier the way it ended up, and I don’t regret the format my education took, if anything it’s had more advantages than disadvantages. Softly I hum a traditional tune, Hanter Dro, as I drift off to sleep in the quiet darkness of my little flat.

Upon waking up in the morning I toss a harmless ball of magic in the direction of the dark guardian, who I call Dennis, that wanders the hall on the other side of the gate and make a cup of tea. Packing doesn’t take long, it’s a short trip to the Imperial City after all, and having had breakfast and gotten dressed I set off, giving Shadowmere an apple and a pet to say good morning before we set off. Out of all the things and people in this world I love most, I think shadow is at the top of the list, perhaps tied with Vicente. She’s a good horse and always has been, and I love her more than life itself, she deserves all the apples and carrots in the mortal world, oblivion, and aetherius. Arriving at the imperial city I put her in the stable and leave her with one more pat before making sure the master of the stable takes good care of her. With that finished I find myself wandering my way through the city until I reach the gates of the university. “Haven’t seen you before sir, you a student?” A guard, one of the battlemages, asks, giving me an unsavory look “As a matter of fact no I’m not but I’m here to visit a student, Isabelle McKinnion, she should be expecting me.” The guard makes a noise and looks at the other guard who stands on the other side of the gate. Pulling out a forged document stating official business helps my case, and after a few minutes more of polite debate I’m let through onto the campus grounds. Note to self: thank Issy for the letter, and ask her to teach me how to be better at forging things. I’m an assassin by trade not a thief, my forging skills are in need of improvement as a result. Issy however operates as both trades as well as a member of The Blades who are notoriously known as the emperor's spy network and personal guard. If I remember correctly I think Valan may even be associated with them, and Juliette complets operations so secret she cannot even tell Baurus. I find Issy in the library among a pile of books almost as tall as her and scrawling notes on paper frantically “Whatever happened to pranking Lex so he moves to Anvil?” I ask sitting down  on the carpet across from her “Exams happened.” she replies not looking up from her writing. “How long are you going to be at this?” I question, leading forward and resting my head on my arms “Until next week unless I can finish things earlier” she states while continuing to work. What…Next week?! How many exams are there anyways?! “Can you at least take a little break so we can do something actually fun?” Issy stops writing and looks up “The only ‘fun’ thing I’d like to do at the moment is to get a full night's sleep.” I’m sure I can somehow figure that out. “That can be arranged, I’ll help you study!” With a sigh she hands me a pile of books on conjugation and tells me to get studying. This shouldn’t be too bad…I hope. I suppose the prank war will have to resume at a later date, and I find myself very glad I never went to public school.

Bonus Lucien regarding the Lex problem:

Death & Decay (Lucien)

Mini Fic Prompt: Decay

People seem to be confused by my presence. Is it my clothes? Is it the sword at my side? Is it the fact I’m dead and yet still roam the world of the living? Luckily Shadowmere doesn’t seem to mind my new appearance, I still look more or less the same, after all. The only difference is I’m a semi-see-through blueish color now. There is no body left to decay in the ground, or rise up again at the hands of some nefarious necromancer up to no good. Only a small container of ashes is left, sitting on a shelf undisturbed. Shadowmere and I walk along the road late one night, the darkness illuminated only by the moons above and the torch of the occasional rider passing by, who is stunned to see the two of us. A terrified courier rides past as fast as he can, cautiously looking back to be sure the ghostly figure and jet black horse with red eyes were in fact real. I look at the courier unmoving who quickly turns back around and rides even faster. “You’d think they’d be less scared seeing me like this than if I were a decaying body wandering around mindlessly.” I say to Shadowmere who snorts in agreement. Eventually we stop for a brief rest at a ruin just off the road. Shadowmere rests and munches on a spare apple I had found in my pocket while I poke around the ruin. This was once a fortress, much like Fort Farragut, though this one has fallen into considerable disrepair. I find a small area marked with weathered gravestones that hold the former inhabitants of the fortress. They are long gone, drawn into the earth to decay and rest in eternal slumber. I did not meet such a fate, instead I shall remain trapped in an otherworldly state, neither to roam among the living, nor to rest with the dead. My fate is to wander endlessly, as a poor wayfaring stranger.