Open The Bannered Mare Tavern

[Drakaroz]

Drakaroz ponders a moment, a life of adventure seemed to be calling him, while he missed the Redoubts he knew that while the Nords controlled Markath and until Madanach was free, the Forsworn would continue to fight amongst one another and The Reachmen would be either forced to work the mines for the Silver-Bloods for a meagre salary or in the Cidhna mines as enslaved prisoners, perhaps the coin earned from the loot could help in more ways the one. "Gor'ath, even in The Reach the Forsworn are known to fight amongst each other as well as the Nords, ever since Madanach was thrown in the Cidhna mine, the unity of the Forsworn Redoubts has all but collapsed. Druadach Redoubt, which is the vanguard of the Forsworn rebellion, and where I hail from is the only guarantee I can give you where we will be free from the threat of death by my people. I do not know this world since I have never been outside of The Reach, but once we reach "my" Jarl's "territory", I will be able to lead you safe passage through my homeland. I do not require payment, all that I ask is the chance to see this land on the way to Markath, and whatever loot we come across my share is allotted to me justly".

 

[Derath_farseer]

He claps his hands loudly "Then its settled, We head out at once my fellow companions are waiting by the stables, Drakroz I'll make sure you're payed well for your work and to you as well Marsh dweller" He stands and leads the group out the inn -JOIN Thread, Long road to markarth to join the rp-

 

[Drakaroz]

"Very well. I will meet you and your comrades in the stables" Drakaroz, calmly rises from his seat, and makes his way out the inn towards the stables of Whiterun.

 

[secretsquirrely]

He was going to reaspond to the young Orc, but found himself under the watchful eye of many others. Now was not the time to speak further. Instead, Nefaradus ordered himself another drink and sat quietly. He listened to the conversation between the Nord and the Orc about Markarth. What a dreadful place Markarth was. It was one of his least favorite spots on the continent of Skyrim. He gulped down a pint of his choice drink and then turned on his stool to survey the room. He scanned the faces and body posture of every individual present in the Bannered Mane at the moment.

He was determined to find the right person to join him on his next "task". Nefaradus had been under the wing of a very mysterious master for many years. When his master called, he always answered and obeyed every order given. His latest task was quite beyond his abilities alone. He would need a team. His team needed to be trustworthy, strong, and most importantly, gulible. The less questions they asked, the better.

Finally his gaze fell upon a young man dressed in all black. He tilted his head slightly. The man, with short bond hair, seemed to have been attempting to eavesdrop on his earlier conversation. He stood from his stool and approached Rale. At first he said nothing, he merely inspected the man's choice in armor and weaponry. Eventually, Nefaradus pointed at the sword.

I could not help but admire the prestine condition of your weaponry. Tell me, how does one make ebony darker than the night itself?

He was making light conversation to ease into his target's trust threshold a bit. Later he would unveil his true intentions.

 

[Rale]

[OOC: bow ]
Rale looks up, grins, and says "Youll have to ask the person who made it. This bow was given to me by my father, well, adoptive father, on the day of his death. I carry it with me to remember my father, he was killed by a Dark Brotherhood assasin, Im searching for the man who contracted my fathers death. He was a member of the Thieves guild, so he must have had lots of enemies. This armor is also his, he was a member of the Nightingale order as well. All of this gear you see on me is thanks to him, apart from this glass dagger, I found it on the assasin."
Rale gives a quizical look for a moment, then reverts back to his unsettling smile.
"But enough about me, whats an Argonian doing in Whiterun, let alone skyrim?"

 

[Mikey]

Madias walks in the bannered mare quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound, he walks upstairs immediatley. he arrives at the last door farthest from the stairs. he crouches down and starts picking the lock to the door hoping to be successful picking the lock

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

(Well, here goes nothing.)

It was late when Skald finally reached Whiterun, he'd spent the last few days traveling from the Rift. There he was paying a visit to an old friend in Shor's Stone. When he stepped into the inn he was tired and sore, the roads have become very dangerous and twice he was ambushed by bandits. He took a seat at the bar and immediately ordered some mead. "Coming right up." said the innkeeper, shortly after she returned with a pint of mead and set it down on the counter, Skald slid a few septims toward her and she gladly scooped them up and pocketed them. Skald took the pint and began chugging the warm sustenance, it was very rejuvenating and Skald wasn't as tired or sore anymore. He stood from his seat and walked over to the fireplace where several others had gathered.

 

[Mikey]

He gives up and walks downstairs and sits next to Skald hoping he wont descriminate against me.
"So where have you traveled from?" He said Ordering some mead "Coming up sir" Said the bartender bringing madias a beer

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"I came here from the Rift, had some business with a friend in Shor's Stone." Skald replied, Skald is a large man who stands around 6'3. His arms are thick and bulging with muscle. "I was born in the Pale, it's a cold and lonely place there."

 

[Mikey]

"So you travel around?" He said raising an eye brow

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"Yes, you come from Morrowind? I imagine a Dunmer man wouldn't want to come to Skyrim unless out of necessity." Skald takes another sip from his pint, behind us several men come in laughing and shouting loudly. They approach the counter and order several drinks while making advances on the barmaiden.

 

[Mikey]

"I'm From Cyrodil" He said Eating part of a sweetroll

 

[Dovah]

"By Talos....."

Rubert muttered some profanities as he stood in front of the Whiterun gate. This was the very hold he was born in, and the one he sure hoped he would never see on the inside. A lot of bad history in this place, although it had been years since he last visited it. Grinding his teeth, he opened the gate, only to find some headturners, which ignored him again seconds later.

Good, no one recognized him. Perhaps the years of battles and hardships had worn his face down into a inrecognizable state. It was only for the better....

In the distance he could see the Bannered Mare, the meeting place where he would meet up with a distressed farmer who called for him to get rid of an annoying troll which kept eating his livestock. With a heavy sigh Rubert paced towards the tavern, the warhammer clinging against his bow with every step. The pay had better be good....

As he stepped into the tavern, the smell of mead and meat hit his nostrils, turning his stomach. The hunt hadn't been good lately, and Rubert could use a good meal at this point. He picked off a piece of venison off the grill, and threw some gems on the counter. "Give me a bottle of Reserve" He grunted, as he waited for the shopkeeper to get his order. While biting into the sweet, tender meat, his mouth started to water, causing him to almost drool. He was content, as far as could be at least.

After getting his bottle, he strode towards an empty table, and looked around to see if he could see his contact, but so far no one came forward. Rubert shrugged, and decided to wait it out. After all, it wasn't like he would starve to death at this moment.....

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

Skald glances back at the newcomer to the inn, slightly curious. Everyone has a good story or two to tell and Skald was feeling especially sociable that night, so Skald stood from his seat and approached Rupert. "You look ready for a fight." exclaimed Skald.

 

[Dovah]

After his first sip of mead, Rubert could see someone approaching him. He didn't look like the farmer, so he paid no heed to him. Getting another bite of his deer leg, he kept his cool as he enjoyed the meaty texture. Then.... the man talked. Seriously??? Rubert had been in Whiterun for ten minutes now, and someone already challenged him?

While Rubert liked the idea of a good fight now and then, he was in the middle of a meal. Without paying too much attention, he looked at the man now standing in front of him.

"A true Nord is always ready for a fight. What's it to you?"

He spoke, in a rather rude manner. Could a man not enjoy a little peace and quiet every now and then?

 

[Mikey]

He looks at them "We're all friends here" He said sipping his mead

 

[Rale]

Rale looks at Madias. "Who said we were friends, Dunmer?" he says, scowling at the elf. "What are you doing here anyway?" He returns to his book about Skeevers.

 

[Mikey]

"Well Why do you care? I mean us Dunmer have feelings too Nightngale" He said studying his armor

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"At ease, I meant no offense." says Skald, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Skald wears a dark grey cloak fastened at the neck. The hood is pulled over his head, obscuring most of his features. He also wears a steel cuirass and leather boots and gauntlets.

 

[Rale]

Rale looks up at Madias. "You thinking of stealing my armor elf?" Rale throws a coin at Madias' forehead. "Buy yourself some nice rags."