bladeofstorms asked:

"Uh... I think I’m lost."

“Oh dear.”

Suddenly her letter didn’t seem so important. It was folded and shoved into her satchel in a heartbeat, and all of her attention shifted to the other Breton. “It isn’t good to be lost in Riften. Too many thieves running about.

“I would be more than happy to help if you tell me where it is that you’re wanting to go.”

Snowball Fight! [Eldingar, Mabel]


The yelp escaped before he could make any attempt to cover it up. Cold, cold, cold! Snow in his hair, sneaking down the back of his cloak and into his armor. It melted and trickled down his skin, making him leap and hobble about. 

Not fair!

Without moment’s hesitation a haphazard lump of snow was formed in his hands, hurriedly lobbed toward the hunter’s head. Missed. Splattered across the log. That didn’t stop the boy from flinging handfuls of snow without even forming the ball, causing a white blanket to fly where Mabel hid.

I swear on Hircine’s furry arse, I will bury you up to your neck!

The yelp elicited a string of giggles from the Breton, who was far too busy laughing and trying to catch her breath to even attempt to escape the onslaught of snow.

Before long, a thin white sheet of snow had covered her legs and stomach, and she had to roll away from her hiding place to remove the cold before it dampened her pants.

Despite the furious flinging from the other side of the log, Mabel quickly formed a few haphazard snowballs and - without aiming - tossed them overhand over the log and towards the Breton.

bladeofstorms asked:

"Pushing you into the puddle seemed like a good idea…"


“How exactly did it seem like a good idea?” Zeke replied, standing and shaking furiously, flinging water from his hair and clothes. He made sure to stand close enough to the Breton to wet him as well.

“How are we supposed to sneak up on Runil and toss his robes over his head if I’m sloshing about in wet clothes?”

bladeofstorms asked:

"Aw, come on. A snowball fight is clearly a good idea."


“Snowball fights are for kids who got time to waste,” Mabel replied, before turning her back to him and squatting down. She removed her bow and quiver, her satchel, and then began digging a hole in the snow to clear out a space for a fire pit.

As the Breton moaned and complained about her being no fun, she merely continued with her work, but once he had given up and unhappily slumped down on a stump - she struck.

A beautifully, lovingly, hand-crafted snowball was flung at the mage’s head, followed by a giggle as Mabel darted behind a fallen log. The hunter just barely poked her head up from above her hiding spot, before tossing another lump of snow at Eldingar.

“Don’t tell me ya’ve changed yer mind!”

bladeofstorms replied to your post: bladeofstorms asked:“Why are you …

Eldingar’s nose crinkled up in obvious disapproval, unused to physical affection by random strangers. Still, head had to admit, hugs were rather nice at times. Not that he would say it aloud, however. “Yeah, mate. Thanks. I’m all good now though.”

Cole smiled brightly at the Breton, and released him, patting his shoulder as he did.

"Well, if ya ever need another one, ya can find me ‘round here in Solitude,” he said, motioning towards the city as he did. “I work at the No Misteak butcher shop if ya can’t find me anywhere else.”

bladeofstorms asked:

"Get out of the way!"


Tort was confused, but ultimately stepped out of the Breton’s way. She tensed, awaiting whatever might have spooked the man, before Horst came into view - missing his hood.

“Oh, that must have been the emergency,” she murmured, moving to fix the draugr thrall’s hood so his face was hidden.

bladeofstorms asked:

"Oops, did I do that?... Oh well."


Bran let out a deep sigh at the sight of his ale spilled all over his dinner and lap. After taking a rag and mopping up most of the mess the Breton had made, he eyed his meal again.

Really… it was all going to the same place.

Once he had refilled his tankard, Bran tucked into his meal, pleased with the added flavor.