Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-19164168-20180314143738/@comment-19164168-20180315143725

Even with the sudden shift in the wind and the quick transference of power from the conquerors to the conquered, Skyrim would still not see any reprieve in sight. The Jarls of the nine holds, with no clear and proper successor for the province, began fighting amongst themselves with little or even no regard for the damages left behind by the old occupying government. Bandits ruled the roads, famine reigned freely, and the last vestiges of civilization in the land were considered home for disreputable individuals of varying circles.

As the kingdom of the fatherland approached it's darkest days, several groups of individuals unheard of to the public began to work tirelessly to search for a proper ruler since the dethroning of Ulfric Stormcloak at the hands of the Thalmor, with the Jagged Crown still missing in the process...

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"No, we don't serve people under 21, students from the Bards' College, and City Guards without the proper pass from their respective commanding officers." Minette Vinius, who was now a fully-grown woman, addressed a Breton foreigner.

"Do I look like any of those?" the foreigner frowned.

"Just need to make sure, lad. Now what's your poison?" Minette asked the Breton.

"Got any tonics? Or coffee like busy bee brew?"

"We have busy bee. You the working type, eh?"

"Yeah, I am. Have to walk a lot too."

"Very well. Want some milk on the coffee?"

"Yes, please."

Minette nodded before she went to the kitchens to process the man's orders as he sat down on a bar stool, anonymously observing the surroundings to figure out what was going on in Skyrim these days.