As she finished painting she reached for a clean napkin on the table to wipe her hands on; leaving brilliant violet smudges on the bright, white cloth. She nodded in acknowledgement of his thanks and turned back to her cup of tea, still steaming on the table, and took another long drink. She knew if she had any hope of keeping what little bit of time she had left, she would need it. The brisk liquid filled her with a warm sense of strength and vigor, she shivered slightly as she grabbed her unsharpened blade and the whetting stone and set to work smoothing the blade down to a fine, sharp cutting edge. She preferred this method to the fast-paced, and often times unpredictable honing of a grindstone. It took much longer this way, but she could rest easy in the assurance that her time would pay off.
She leaned over her work, her face mere inches from the blade, as she assured it would be in finest condition for the job ahead. The gracefully decorated, leather wrapped hilt rested on her thigh as she held the tapering blade flat against her palm, and glided the smooth, sharpening stone down the other side. As she finished, she layed a thin, finely woven cloth over her hand and soaked it in a pungent smelling oil, then carefully wiped down both sides to a glimmering sheen, and nestled both swords back into their sheathes. The Ebony blades were nearly as old as she, but caring for them this way they had never failed her in a time of need.
Taking another drink of her tea, and draining the cup, her eyes glanced over the rim toward the end of the table where her companions had sat and noticed their seats empty and their equipment gone. In a brief moment of shock she jolted with a start and sent tea running down her chin, in a most undignified of manners. Grabbing for the nearest napkin, the one on which she’d wiped her paint-stained hands before, she blotted at her face leaving purple smudges on her cheeks and lips. She looked down in a frenzy and grimaced at the mess she’d made of herself. “Gah, for the love...of...it all...” She strained as she scrubbed at her face with a clean napkin, moistened in a bit of cold tea.
Grabbing her things in a hurry, she spilled a few arrows from her quiver and spat in disgust at having so little time to prepare herself and gather her equipment. She quickly glanced at the arrowheads as she stuffed them back into their holster, having no time to check that they were properly secured as she would have liked to. Quickly, she fastened her swords to her belt, one lying gently over the other in their matching, black leather scabbards, and secured her bow to her back just over her satchel so they wouldn’t tangle, and made for the door. Some of the tavern patrons eyed her with suspicion and amusement as the quiet, stoic Bosmer stumbled uncharacteristically over herself and out of the tavern. “Wonder what got into her...” One of them said, snickering into his mead.
She set off across the city at a slight jog, eyes scanning the stone walls, doorways and sidestreets for a glimpse of her companions but they truly had set off in a hurry, and were far ahead of her. Stopping in the middle of the street she sighed helplessly, realizing for the first time how ridiculous she must look in such a state. “So much for the whole companionship thing...” She muttered gruffly under her breath, before taking off at a brisk walk toward Understone Keep, hoping they hadn’t gotten so far ahead they were already getting strung up by Falmer.
Stepping into the cool, darkened halls of the keep she could hear voices coming out of a cavern to the right and made her way toward them, ignoring the curious and inquisitive looks of the guards as she passed. Over the rubble of the partially collapsed corridor she made out the forms of her companions standing in conversation with a tall, Knightly looking man she didn’t recognize; there were two Altmer to the side, one she assumed to be the elusive Calcelmo, the scholar studying the ruins. She spotted Bruynzeel and Duva as well, their heads together away from the others and huffed in aggravation. As they parted she caught him far enough away that the others might not hear, and crossed her arms as she stood in his path. “It may do you well to ensure the presence of your entire party in the future, Master Khajiit.”