18+ Into The Dark [Game Thread]

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    MabFaerie

    Faerie Queen
    Peering up at an overcast sky, Winter De’Lune wondered for a moment if this gig was really worth the coin that Courier had talked it up as.
    Antsy and anxious, the fumbling messenger had nearly gotten himself stabbed as he shoved a slip of parchment towards the young Bretons chest.

    “The Jarl of Markarth is looking for a brave adventurer like yourself, M’lady. Surely you have time to spare for a noble quest?”

    “Does this noble quest-I can’t believe you actually just called it that-involve noble quantities of coin as a reward?” Winter raised an eyebrow, her expression sat somewhere between bored and annoyed yet the Courior seemed unfazed.

    “Riches beyond your wildest dreams, M’lady!”
    “……Uhuh.” Winter cleared her throat and let the silence that followed hang in the air, her discontent needed no words.

    Quickly, the Courier straightened up, realizing that exaggerations would get him nowhere,
    “Ahem. Tis but a humble sum for a humble request, Madam.”

    “So I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then?”

    “I do not have exact details, good hero, but I’m sure if you would only meet with the Jarl, he would be happy to answer your questions in good time.”

    “I’ll think about it.” The black heared beauty replied, heading off towards the direction of town without so much as a second glance behind.

    Halfway to town, Winter gave pause. Curiosity getting the best of her, she pulled out the crumpled bit of parchment she had shoved in her cloak pocket before and actually stopped long enough to read it properly.
    Details were scarce and muddied at best, but it seemed that the Jarl was requesting aid in the extermination of some wild animals that had been attacking villagers somewhere off the main roads.

    Winter snorted and crumpled up the note, tossing it behind her shoulder carelessly,
    “A noble quest my ass—“
    “Hello.” A quiet voice interrupted her, catching her off guard but only for a moment.
    Turning to face the source of the noise with one sword drawn, she found herself towering over a small red haired little girl.

    “Hi, kid. What do you want?” Winter asked, eyeing the small girl up and down and feeling decidedly underwhelmed. Figuring she was of no threat, Winter returned her sword to its hilt and stared at the small girl expectantly.
    “You shouldn’t just throw things away like that. Parchment can be reused, many potions that require a material component made of parchment don’t actually need the material to be blank so it doesn’t matter if there’s words on it or not. It all melts down just the same.” The small redhaired girl piped up, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, Winter could tell she wanted to be helpful but she mostly just came off as annoying, at least as far as the Breton was concerned.

    “Lovely! You feel free to go on and keep it then. No, no, don’t thank me, it was my pleasure.” Winter forced a smile that looked more like a threat, accompanied by fake enthusiasm, it kind of made her face hurt.

    “Okay, I will!” The girl replied cheerfully, clutching at the slip of parchment, seeming to regard it as a cherished gift instead of the crumpled heap of trash that Winter viewed it as.
    Without so much as a goodbye, Winter turned heel and fled, putting as much distance between her and the odd little girl as possible. She didn’t have time for kids, quirky or otherwise.

    Entering into Markarth a bit before mid-day, Winter took her time restocking supplies, having wasted a fair portion of them on her last expedition south, in search of the fabled Dawnguard. They were a hard group to find, if they even existed at all, and the rumors so far had led to one disappointment after the next.

    It was nightfall before Winter had finished acquiring her provisions. The urge to skip town and keep up her search was tempting, but so was the thought of lining her pockets with easy coin from slaying a feral hound or two.
    In the end, greed won and Winter made her way towards the Jarls hall to meet with him about the subject of his summons.

    Finding the hall clear of occupants save for a stray guard or two, Winter made her way further in, stopping just short of his meeting room, surprised to overhear an oddly familiar voice.

    “My lord, I implore you to look past my obvious physical inexperience and grant me the opportunity I deserve. I assure you, I am entirely capable of accomplishing the task of which you ask me, my age is of little consequence—“

    “I will not send a child to her doom, little girl. You are mistaken if you believe I would allow you to travel the depths of a dangerous place all alone.”

    “Then you would allow me to go accompanied?” The girl raised an eyebrow, attempting to catch the man with his own words.

    “Child, eh, Lilumae, was it? Yes, Lilumae, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and respect your desire to help those in need, but I simply cannot allow you to risk your life and limb on a meager attempt to—“

    “You’re summoning adventurers to clear out a cave, not a fight a war. Don’t you think you should just take what you get?” Stepping in to interrupt, Winter laid eyes on the familiar redhead from earlier.
    Of course it would be her. She must have read the flyer once Winter had left.

    A look of annoyance flashed across the Jarls face as her turned to face the black haired figure who would be so bold as to interrupt the Jarl mid-conversation, “Are you, whoever you may be, implying that I should send a little girl into battle in place of able-bodied men?”

    “Winter De’Lune, at your service, M'lord. And the last I checked a couple of wolves didn’t much qualify as a massive bloodletting. Let the child get her trophy-kill. It’s not as if it’s difficult. Besides, I don’t see any able-bodied men here, Jarl. Do you?”

    “I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, Mistress De’lune.”
    “I’m not implying anything. I just think that if you’re not willing to get your hands bloody, you shouldn’t throw stones at the people who are. If it bothers you so much, I’ll help the girl. I’ll go with her.”
    “I’ve had enough of this insolence. You have some nerve!”
    “And a ton of courage too. More so than anyone in this town if the list of “hero’s” who’ve come to offer you their aid is any indication.” Winter raised a hand to gesture at the barren, empty hall. It was quite obvious that no one was lining up for the chance to complete the Jarls request. She half-wondered if the girl, Lilumae, had been the first person to show face all day.

    “I think we’re quite through, Lady De’Lune. Find me more able-bodied adventurers to assist you in this task and perhaps, PERHAPS, I will reconsider funding the expedition. Otherwise, leave me to my troubles.”

    “They sound awfully self-inflicted to me.” Winter muttered beneath her breath, a foul mood settling in like quiet fog on the precipice.

    “Good Day, Lady De’lune. Lady Hime.” The Jarl said nothing further as he issued the two girls out of his sight with a dismissive wave of his hand.

    “Find me more adventurers.” Winter spat the moment they were clear of earshot. “Sure, that’s what he says. Find me more MEN, now that’s what he really meant.” The thought irked Winter to no end. She refused to be second-guessed just because she was a woman, he had no right!

    “Come on, kid. Let’s hit the tavern. Surely there’s some young lad who could use some coin to line his pockets. We’ll get us to that cave just yet, you’ll see!”
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    Severus stood on the rocky outcrop, staring across the distance to the walls of the city of stone. Markarth. A breeze from the city brought the scent of the living to him. Though it was enticing, Severus had already fed on a patrol of unwary Forsworn, and felt no need to feed any time soon. It was one of the first things Lucius had taught him on the long march from Cyrodiil to Falkreath. A vampire that couldn't control their thirst was of no use to anyone.

    He'd heard of a call for mercenaries and able warriors from the city. Apparently, dealing with some wold animal attack. Severus found that to be...unlikely. He dropped from the outcrop to the ground below, and began making his way to the city. Animals could be dealt with by a couple of guardsmen. Probably a few farmers with pitchforks could get the job done. Whatever it was, the jarl either didn't know, and was sending mercs in blind, or he did know, and wanted to keep panic to a minimum.

    Severus didn't care either way. There wasn't much in the world that he feared any more. Personally, he suspected a pack of bandits. Wiping them out would be entertaining, if nothing else, and an easy way to make some coin. Not that he was hurting for funds, but he'd bring suspicion upon himself if he refused payment while the others didn't.

    He arrived at the city in good time, and ascended the stone steps to the gate. "Halt!" One of the guards said, thrusting his torch at the vampire. "What brings you to Markarth?" Severus scowled at the flames, but decided against using the torch to bludgeon the man. "I'm looking for work. I'm told the jarl's looking for able bodied men." Both guards stared at him. He wore only a dark tunic with a red surcoat over it. He wore fingerless leather gauntlets, but that was the extent of his armour.

    However, he stood with confidence, despite his lack of armour, and his hand rested easily on the pommel of his steel longsword. "Alright" grunted one. "Go on in. And stay out of trouble." The other guard signalled, and the gates rolled open. Severus strolled inside, taking the time to look around. The streets weren't as full as they were during the day. A few drunks wandered around outside the local tavern. Easy prey, but Severus as he continued towards the keep, a womans voice, sounding none-too-pleased, caught his attention.


    The woman was talking to a red-headed child.Something about the jarl wanting them to find more men for a group. They were headed away from the keep. Presumably towards the afore mentioned tavern. The vampire turned on his heel, slipping into the shadows in a doorway unnoticed. Deciding it might be easier to act as an out of work, down on his luck mercenary, Severus slipped back the way he'd come. A few short moments later, he was in the tavern. A torch was bracketed up on the wall beside his table. It hurt his eyes, but if he sat in the shadows, there was a good chance he'd be overlooked. He ordered an ale, but didn't drink. It was purely to keep up appearances. He leaned back in his chair, and waited.
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Markarth was a beautiful city, Lily wasn't ashamed to admit.
    Whiterun was nice and quiet, Solitude and Windhelm had plenty of history behind them; but Markarth's many levels were built so well into the Reach mountains that it was rumoured to have been built by the Dwemer. Even with all the rough stone edges, the city was still as picturesque as she'd heard.

    Lily was currently walking across a farm just outside the city walls, careful not to tread on any of the farmer's crops as she went. It was a nice day, with blue skies and relative warmth, compared to the frozen north of Skyrim. The sun on her back reminded her of home, but she ignored it before it reminded her of more painful memories.

    The guards perked up at her appearance, crossing their pikes in front of the city gates.
    "Stop there. What business do you have in Markarth?"
    Lily stopped, hands at her side, away from her sabre to show she wasn't a threat to them.
    "I'm just coming in to stay for a few days, maybe earn a bit of coin while I'm here. I'm searching for any vampire covens around."
    The guards glanced at each other.
    "I don't know about any vampires, but the Jarl's been looking for warriors to help her deal with an animal problem."
    Lily failed to notice how this interested her, but she supposed it would get her a little extra money.

    "Thank you."
    "Go on in, and stay out of trouble."
    Lily nodded politely, and entered the city.

    She considered heading straight to see the Jarl and inquire as to the nature of this 'animal problem', but decided against it, in favour of heading to the tavern to rent a room and attempt to gather up some other rumours spreading round. After all, she'd been travelling for days, and valued a good night's sleep well above an animal problem.
    The tavern was expectedly loud and merry, with a bard playing his lute being overwhelmed by the cheery singing of the men around the fire. Lily sat at the bar, ordering a mead before turning on the stool and watching the men sing, leaning on the bar.

    The door creaked open and two people came in; a tall, pale, very pretty young woman with flowing black hair, donning skintight black leather that made male heads turn across the tavern, and a small girl at her side, nearly a foot shorter, who looked to be either a very mature-looking child or a very young-looking teenager; Lily couldn't tell at this distance. She could, however, tell that the taller woman seemed quite angry at something, and was examining each face closely, as if looking for someone in particular. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what, but something about these two girls interested Lily. She'd seen things like this happen plenty of times; young, attractive woman entering a bar in fairly provocative clothes, drunk men see an opportunity and try to get inside said clothes, with or without permission. Lily had no intention of letting this happen, but something about the taller woman told her that she didn't have to worry.
    She took a sip of her mead, and waited to see what they were doing, ready to intervene if anything bad happened.
     

    Seanu Reaves

    The Shogun of Gaming
    Ondolemar looked up from his tea as he noticed his companion shifting his body to listen to the Jarl. His fellow Mer was covered head to toe. Underneath his big floppy hat only his eyes, burning amber things, were truly visible underneath brim. They danced with excitement as they took in the argument. As his companion brought his teacup to his mouth, Ondolemar swore his friends stark white teeth were bared into a mockery of a smile.

    “Very interesting.”

    “Vivi… I know you get bored, but are you sure this is wise?”

    “Ondo… You yourself have told me I need to be more productive.”

    “But hunting beasts… Really… We might have work at the embassy.”

    “Justicar Ondolemar. Might is not a good argument against definite work. Plus, wouldn’t the superior race in stature and morals be moved to help the little girl on her quest?”

    “You cannot be serious…”

    “Ondo… Ondo…” Viverac smiled, raising a hand to his face. “I am going to throw at least five fireballs this week. Maybe even just tomorrow. Now tell me… Do you want me in the city or out of it when I decide to finish my quota?”

    “Fine,” Ondolemar groaned. “Kill a Talos worshiper for me?”

    “Only for you, old friend. Thank you for the tea.” The shrouded face leaned back and laughed. Viverac stood up and bowed before the leader of the Justicars. Before leaving Viverac leaned over and grabbed the last sweet roll. With slender fingers Viverac secured the uppermost clasps of his hood, hiding his mouth from view. If only there was a way for my eyes to glow, Viverac mused. Then I could really scare people…

    The strange High Elf began making ghost noises and holding his arms out straight. Asides from a couple odd glances from the guards he got no reaction. He yawned and adjusted his hat, it was late enough that the extra shadows from his hat made it hard to see. So he listened, though it was hard to make out details in the ambient city noises. Well, Viverac thought. We are in Skyrim. And so he employed Talos Worshiper hunting technique number one: when in doubt, taverns are the best place to start. And so, robes whipping around his legs like the way flames like the air the tall elf made his way down to the market place and the Silver-Blood Inn.
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    "Please! I'm just a poacher! The jarl can have a few elk missing."
    "Shut your mouth before I kick your teeth in," his horse continued on while he tugged the poacher behind him like a fresh kill or a prisoner of war. It did take longer, that much is true, but he wanted to punish the man who hunted more than he was allowed. He understands hunting, but he has no love for poaching, or killing more than was needed. He also wanted some coin in his pocket, so it was a win on both sides for him. Ardin has been a bounty hunter ever since the war, ever since he stopped. It pays and it helps him in some strange way. He jerked the rope to the side while petting his horse.

    "You hunt! Why am I in ropes? Just because I caught more than most?"

    "I hunt when needed, and use the whole animal out of respect. I'm more inclined to buy my meat. We are the true animals. Now come along, meat," the two continued on to the stone city, Markarth, where he'll drop his charge off and get paid. After what felt like ever lasting yacking, they had finally arrived. He dismounted, paid the stable to keep his trusty steed, and kicked his bounty in front of him and up to the door to let a guard open it.

    "Welcome back, Wolf. Another one this week?" The guards split the giant wooden doors for him, like always. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace always bothered him, some days more than others, he didn't mind it today. The bounty stumbled, pleaded, was kicked forward, and manhandled all the way up to the keep. The mines were also busy, the sound of steel and iron hitting stone bounced off the ever present stone lengths and stairs around the city. At least the waterfall at the door was tranquil.

    "Please! You have a chance!" Ardin didn't hear him in account for kicking him threw the heavy metal door. "Ah! Ardin! I see you delivered yet again! Here is the gold as promised." The Jarl threw the usual coin purse at him, but didn't stop there, " I may have one more thing for you. It seems like we have a feral pack in a cave nearby. There should some help," he rolled his eyes right after the comment implying the help gave him he'll about whatever they didn't like.

    "It'll be done," without waiting for an answer from the Jarl, he turned as he put his rope up and opened the door. Now, for the tavern. He's been on the road for a while now. The sound of people seem nice. As solitary as he is, he always found the sound and the interaction of people fascinating. He never did like most jarls. At least not he Stormcloak sympathizers. Yes, he understood the Stormcloaks, their reasoning and all. But that's it. Most cloaks were racist and wanted others out. He did not agree with that or a split Skyrim, even if he was Skyrim's child. Nonetheless, he moved on to the tavern, paid for his drink and meal, and picked a subtle table facing the bar and door.

    If there was help for this awful slaughter, they'll be there. If there wasn't gold and if the Jarl didn't point him on it he would have said no. He supposes these things happen.

     

    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Markarth. A smelly, dirty city, with a saying that made little sense to him. The silver, yes, but blood? The guards may have thought they were tough, but out on the world, they were pretty tame. The bounty hunter known as the Wolf entered the city, and looked around. It was getting dark, but Ardus wasn't planning on settling down just yet. He'd heard of a bounty posted by the jarl to wipe out a cave of wild animals. 'Skyrim. The one place where you're paid to kill a pack of animals.' But the Wolf hadn't made his coin by being picky.

    He made his way to Understone Keep. A woman and young girl were going the other way. The younger one was a timid looking redhead, and the other was taller, dark haired, and looked annoyed. She was saying something about the jarl wanting more men. Ardus glanced at her, then up at the doors to the keep. He guessed she was talking about the bounty, but didn't know why. Unless these animals were the most dangerous in Tamriel, there was no reason the pair of them would be inadequate. The dark haired woman, at least, looked like she was more than capable.

    Inside the keep, he made his way straight to the throne room, ignoring the stares of the guards. He did come across a Nord who was shoving another trussed up man, probably a bounty, ahead of him. 'Another bounty hunter? This just keeps getting more and more interesting.' The man left the throne room, having handed off his bounty, and judging by the sack of coins, been paid for it, and was probably headed to the tavern.

    Ardus didn't bother to wait for the guards or anyone else to announce him. He simply barged inside, selected a chair, and reclined in it. "Word has it you're looking for help with a pack of animals." Personally, Ardus suspected bandits, or thieves. Nobody put a bounty out on animals. The jarl frowned at him. Obviously, he was unused to such blatant disrespect. "Yes..and you are?" Ardus smiled at the man. It was not a pleasant smile. "The one who's going to get the job done properly. You can call me Carn." Judging by the blank look, word of Ardus' exploits hadn't reached Markarth yet. That was fine. There was plenty of time for the Jarl to learn.

    "Ah, very well, then. I think some of the others also interested in the bounty went out to the tavern. You should check there." The jarl made a dismissive motion, and Ardus scowled. The Wolf wasn't used to being dismissed in such a way, and normally, he'd have taught the man some manners. But he was not in the mood for a pointless confrontation, so he only shrugged, got up, and left. It was dark out, when he left, but that didn't bother him. He made his way to the tavern, entered, and headed straight to the bar. The bartender glanced up at him inquisitively. "Brandy. In a clean glass" he ordered.

    The man nodded and went about securing the glass and alcohol. Ardus took the time to look around, taking in the taverns patrons. Miners, smelters, off-duty guardsmen, a few obligatory drunks. There were a few that stood out. A robed mage like character, for one. Then there was a red headed Breton woman, watching the girl and woman he'd seen before. Sitting with a mug of ale was another Imperial, dark haired, wearing a crimson surcoat over darker colours. Ardus sipped his recently acquired brandy, found it acceptable, and took a seat at an unoccupied table. There were certainly mercenaries in the tavern. And he felt that the jarl expected all of them to work as some sort of team. 'Tough. I don't do teams' he thought. Sure, he'd go along to collect on the bounty, but he wasn't about to 'participate'. He stretched out, placing his boot heels up on the empty chair across from him, and settled in to watch.
     
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    Dabiene Caristiana

    Your friendly neighborhood weirdo
    (A few days previously...)

    The trees of Falkreath hold stood tall and proud over the land, looking as if they were trying to grasp the sky itself. The air was crisp, clean, with the surrounding landscape beautiful, but deadly. Who knew what dangers and beauty Skyrim held. For some foreigners, it was just a cold and unforgiving land. But to some... It was so much more. Especially for two thieving siblings looking for adventure...

    -----------------------------------

    "Are we there now..?"

    "No..."

    A young woman, who looked almost completely identical to the young man walking beside her, looked bored out of her mind. And she was. So... She decided to pass the time. By annoying her brother.

    "... How about now?"

    "No!"

    The sister huffed in annoyance. She couldn't believe their father let them go to a completely different land that was bitter, cold, and absolutely boring. Nothing interesting had happened since they crossed the border.

    "Are we--"

    "No! No, no, no, no!" Her brother snapped.

    "Erebus, come on! We barely have seen anything interesting. No adventure to be found, no gold, no stories to tell, nothing."

    "..." The young brother named Erebus stopped and looked at his sister. "Isabella, we barely been here for a few hours and you're already bored. I swear you have the patience of a slaughterfish. Snapping at every turn. Besides! Look at this!" He stretched out his arms and looked up at the tall trees surrounding them, "What about this doesn't scream adventure?"

    He took a deep breath of air, savoring the fresh air. Letting his arms down he turned to her, "Crisp air is good for your lungs. We have tall trees that provide natural beauty... Don't see that in the great Imperial City." He turned and walked down the road, Isabella trotting to catch up with him.

    "... They have some trees planted in the City.." She mumbled. "Quit being such a child, enjoy this while it lasts." Erebus snapped. Isabella mumbled before going quiet. 'Ugh.. Maybe he's right. Maybe we both could use a little vacation. Who knows, maybe we'll get to fight those famous Skyrim Trolls! I'd love to have a go at one of those.'

    A half hour passed, the two finally talking again about what they may see during their journey in Skyrim. Trolls, sabercats, ice wolves. They would maybe see Whiterun and the place where the Companions where living. They also knew of a town called Riften that housed fellow thieves and decided they should see how they were doing while they were up here.

    "Father said they aren't doing well though. He said they hit a rough patch and that something cursed them. You think he's right?" Isabella looked at her brother.

    "Knowing him, he's never wrong. And the way he described their downfall sounds pretty bad from the look of it. Maybe after we get more information and personally see how they're doing, maybe he can help. Who knows." He shrugged.

    "Well, maybe their luck finally ran out. A thief isn't any good without a bit of--"

    They stopped suddenly, hearing a noise. The brother looked over to the source of the noise. Both were stock still, listening closely. A bush that was in front of them and the apparent source of the noise, moved violently before stopping.

    "Erebus--" Her brother clamped a hand over her mouth before grabbing his bow behind his back. Reaching behind he grabbed an arrow, slowly nocking it before moving very slowly and silently toward the bush, his sister staying put and staying silent. He slowly took aim at the bush and drew back.

    It was silent for a few seconds. The brother taking deep breaths to calm himself from the pumping adrenaline. The bush shook violently again before the deadly creature jumped out in front of them. Erebus just stopped himself from shooting when he heard laughter.

    "A bunny?" The brother was dumbfounded while his sister was laughing her head off. "Erebus is scared of a bunny! What a great adventure story that will be when we get home!" She continued laughing loudly even when her brother threw a nasty glare at her. It didn't last long before something black and dark jumped out from behind her.

    "Look out!" He dropped his bow, shoved her aside and drew his dagger, meeting the creature in a head on collision. Isabella stood there in shock before snapping out of it and drawing her sword.

    "Agh!" Stabbing the monster repeatedly, he finally got a good look at what was trying to eat his head off. "Oh man... You're one ugly bitch.." He kicked the dog like creature off of him before moving to stab it in the head. His sister however beat him to the punch. The foul creature righted itself before leaping again. It never got the chance as Isabella stood over her brother and let the dog skewer itself onto her sword. Kicking it off she stared at their would be killer.

    Bother were panting and staring wide eyed at the thing. It was about a minute before Erebus moved. Picking up his bow and arrow, he put them away and then sheathing his dagger. Isabella meanwhile was stabbing it, making sure it was dead.

    "Erebus.." She stopped stabbing the dog like thing and sheathed her sword, "What is that.. thing?" Her brother stared at it. He had never seen anything like it. The creature resembled a dog, but it had no fur. It had leathery skin, with blood red eyes that seemed to glow from the very depths of oblivion itself, seemingly looking for its prey even in death. What was most disturbing where its teeth. They looked like giant needles with an additional serrated look to them. If that creature had taken a bit of him, he would have been done for with one shake of its head.

    "I... I don't know."

    "What do you mean, 'I don't know'? You've read Skyrim's bestiary book for a week before we left! I'm sure you have that thing memorized!" The sister was numb. If her brother had no idea what that thing was...

    "I don't know, Bella. But where there's one, there's more. Come on. Let's head to Markarth. I'm sure the Jarl there will have better jobs than the Jarl in Falkreath."

    With that, the twins ran in the direction of the ancient City of Stone.

    -----------------------------------------------

    (Now)

    "Gods I'm exhausted... Are we there yet?"

    Erebus looked up and saw the stables and the gates, "If you had been paying attention, you'd know that we are here now." His sister looked up and let out a sigh of relief. "Finally.. A nice bowl of soup and a good nights sleep."

    Nodding, the brother saluted to the guards in respect before moving inside, his sister following.

    "Halt!" A guard called out before moving over to them. "Never seen you two before, are you travelers?"

    "Of a sort." Erebus replied truthfully.

    "Then why does your companion wear the armor of a thief?"

    'Oh man.. I knew I should have dragged that thing off of her before we came! Gotta think, gotta think!'

    "We ran into a thief on the road, trying to 'borrow' some of our stuff y'see." Isabella spoke up. "And I thought, 'How nice'. But I told him I don't like sharing. So I decided to take his stuff and rid the world of another petty thief."

    The air was tense as the twins waited on how the guard would react to the little story. "And what if I said that I don't believe you miss?"

    She sauntered up close to him before pulling out a gold and diamond necklace from one of her many pockets. "And what if I said that his necklace would look well on your... Additional salary?" If Erebus could groan and palm his face in frustration, he would have. Leave it to his sister to bribe a guard right outside the city itself with other guards nearby. In thief armor no less. But it turns out that Lady Nocturnal was on their side, for the guard accepted the payment.

    "Very well miss. Everything seems to be in order. Now keep your nose clean while your here. If you're looking for a job, I hear the Jarl is looking for a few good men to take care of a small problem. In you go." He pocketed the necklace, hoping he could make some good coin out of it, and returned to his post.

    The twins walked to the golden doors, the guards opening them and they walked inside. Leaning close to her, Erebus whispered harshly, "You're so lucky I'm not father, otherwise I'd cuff you so hard in the back of the head right now." His sister wore a 'cat ate the cannery' look on her face, grinning while proudly saying, "I know."

    The twins headed for the Inn and walked inside while Erebus shook his head in annoyance.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    Simus and Alice Psyrakon were a strange sight in the City of Stone. They were Stormcloaks in an Imperial region of Skyrim. This meant technically they were in enemy territory but the Forsworn had become such a threat and spread over so much of The Reach that Jarn Igmund had gotten desperate for someone, anyone to fix the problem. The Legion had sent him a token force but they were unprepared for the Forsworn's fanatical bravery on the field of battle and didn't know or appreciate the terrain. The daedra-worshipers came out charging, screaming, howling. Armed with wood and stone weapons, dressed in leather and animal skins, some with powerful alteration, destruction, and ice atronach summoning conjuration magic. The most fearsome warriors were completely naked and charged in with stone axes that cut like steel. They never stopped, never slowed and seemed to take inhuman punishment before they fell. The Legion forces were slaughtered wholesale and the Jarl's own men fared no better. Igmund was desperate and the only man he could turn to was Ulfric Stormcloak. He was the enemy of all free people of Skyrim and his army was nothing but a horde of racist pigs but he had saved Markarth before when no one else could. If the imperials found out Igmund could be accused of treason but he'd rather see his imperial titles stripped than his city fall. That had already happened once when his father ruled during the Forsworn Uprising and he would not let it happen again. Now Simus and Alice were here, tasked with finding and destroying the Forsworn while also having to keep their men, and the Jarl's, from causing trouble. Simus had promised to leave the war at the gates and he would honor that promise.

    He, Alice and 20 of their 100 men were on a 10 day furlough in the city, a much needed rest from over a month of heavy fighting. Combat patrols that either ran into or had to set an ambush, guard shifts that had at least one sighting a night and raids on small war camps and outposts, all the while never getting any closer to the main Forsworn base or any significant stronghold. The Stormcloaks simply couldn't find them. But they weren't here to worry about that now. They were here to rest and enjoy some nice, relaxing, boring days of eating, drinking and sleeping. Considering what they'd all been through, boring was just fine.

    They were all staying in a brothel the Jarl had rented out for them. Some place called Thy Lady and Lord, a copy of some brothel in Riften. In the interest of keeping them comfortable and well-behaved he had instructed the brothel staff to provide them with all the comforts war-weary soldiers could ask for. Hot food, cold mead, warm beds, a strong roof over their heads and baths to wash themselves. There was even a cook, a bartender with an open bar and a diverse selection of 'comfort girls' to choose from. All of the financial costs were split between the Jarl and the pro-Stormcloak Silver-Blood family so everything for Simus and his men was free.

    They had been there 4 days already with another 6 until they had to head back to the Reach Stormcloak Camp. Simus and Alice felt refreshed and rested by now and were ready to explore the city. Plus the brothel was getting a little crowded and they wanted some time alone with each other. Time to be a father and daughter and be able to talk about things they didn't discuss in front of the men. Like if Alice was sleeping okay, or how she was really doing, or if there was anything she'd seen that she wanted to talk about. She had become a good soldier and reliable officer but her father worried about her. She was too young to be out here and she didn't belong in anyone's war. She deserved to be in a large city like Whiterun or Solitude, spending time with awkward young boys and sharing awkward young kisses. Than dragging them home with her and be awkwardly over the moon in front of the family who would always love her. That was what his little faerie deserved, not hiding from the Thalmor by fighting in someone else's war. A war for old men to settle old disputes and old hatred, not children who had their entire lives ahead of them.

    It was all enough to make an old man very tired.

    "You okay?" Alice asked her father as they walked to the Silver-Blood inn.

    "Hmm?" Simus said, shaken out of his thought.

    "Are you okay dad?" Alice said with mild concern.

    "Yeah." Simus said, smiling at his daughter and glancing at her warmly with his one good eye. "Yeah, I'm fine honey. Just got a lot to think about is all."

    "Well you don't have to think about it right now do you?" Alice asked, walking backwards to look at her father better and effortlessly keeping her footing despite Markarth's rough streets and steps. "I mean, we're on furlough. We're supposed to be having fun remember? And doesn't it feel good to be out of that brothel and in the cool air?"

    "Yeah." He conceded. "Yeah it does. Funny how you of all people are excited about a cold night. You change into your footy pajamas every night and wrap yourself in blankets like a pea pod. Maybe that's what I'll have the men call you. My little pea pod." They both chuckled at the though, and of the image of Alice being wrapped in an actual pea pod.

    "Ha! Yeah, I love my blankets and footie pajamas don't I? You know what I mean. It feels good out here after being in a loud and...unique smelling brothel for several days."

    "I know what you meant honey, I was just messing with you." Simus said smiling. "Now let's enjoy our time out of that brothel and just have some dinner together. And stop walking backwards. You'll hurt yourself."

    Alice smiled with amusement but complied. A few minutes later they arrived at the Silver-Blood Inn. The owner, a middle aged man named Kleppr, greeted the two Stormcloaks as soon as they arrived.

    "Welcome to the Silver-Blood Inn" he said to them. "I'll let you figure out who owns it by yourself. Speaking of which, you two wouldn't happen to be leading the Stormcloak "relief force" squatting ten miles outside Markarth would you?"

    "We would." Simus said. "How'd you guess that?"

    "I saw you enter the city a few days ago. The column of armed Stormcloaks was a bit of a giveaway. Even if neither of you are wearing standard uniforms. Anyhow, Thongvor Silver-Blood seems to think you two are something special so he's instructed me to waive all food and drink charges while you're here. Just don't go overboard will you? My venomous wife doesn't like cleaning vomit off the floor.'

    "What was that you pig-headed oaf!?" A middle aged woman in the corner sweeping yelled.

    "Nothing you wretch! Just get back to work! And bring these two whatever they want! On the house!"

    "On the house!? Are you completely mad!?"

    "They're friends of the Silver-Bloods and they're Stormcloaks!"

    The woman put down her broom. "Oh. two of those guests. Hold on. I'll be right over."

    She walked over to Simus and Alice, shooing her husband back over to the bar. She put on a welcoming smile and introduced herself to Simus and Alice. "Welcome, both of you, to the Silver-Blood Inn. I'm Frabbi and that lump of brick over there is my husband Kleppr. Unlike him, I take care of our guests around here. And I've got to say I'm happy to serve you both. Say what you will about Ulfric Stormcloak but if there's one thing his men know how to do it's kill Forsworn. Their attacks on the outlying villages have gotten much less severe since you Stormcloaks showed up. More than those useless Legion soldiers ever did. Anything you and your men want is on the house so what can I get you? Food? drinks? A place to sleep? We just changed the sheets on the beds if you're interested."

    "We'll just have a seat at the bar and two menus for now. Thank you for the offer though." Simus said.

    "Of course, right this way." Frabbi seated them both and brought them a loaf of bread and a bowel of sweet butter soon after. Simus ordered a mead and Alice ordered a glass of snowberry juice. They both sat in contented silence, munching on bread and nursing their drinks, as they decided what to eat. Alice took the opportunity to do a little people watching and noticed the Inn had drawn quite a crowd. A giant of a Nord in steel-reinforced leather armor at a table facing the bar and door. He had a large mug of mead and a sizable meal. A tall and mean looking imperial sitting at the bar with a glass of brandy. He had his feet propped up on a chair across from him. Another imperial at a table in the shadows wearing a bright red surcoat over a black tunic. He had a mug of mead that looked completely untouched, as if the man only wanted it to have a reason to be here. A fellow of unknown race covered from head to toe in mage robes and a large hat. A red haired Breton woman who looked a few years older than Alice and was sitting at the bar. She was wearing a cute and elegant outfit of fine clothes that she filled out very nicely. She looked almost regal in the way she sat and was much cleaner than most in the inn. Even her fingernails were spotless and trimmed. Alice suspected she was either well-to-do or of noble blood. And finally there was a woman about Alice's age in tight leather armor that went from her throat to her feet. She had snow white skin and cascading brown hair that touched her lower back. She was beautiful and her ample bust made Alice jealous, for her own bust was relatively small and easily contained. Next to this woman was the cutest little redhead, no older than 11 or 12 Alice guessed. She smiled at the little angel from across the room and continued to watch the scene around her.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    A week earlier.

    Senya Stormwind took a deep breath of the sea air. She and a dozen Thalmor battle mages, accompanied by another dozen soldiers were on the Dominion ship Emerald Serpent. She was familiar with the ship and its crew. She'd been assigned to it since she'd joined the Thalmor. Despite being a powerful battle mage, and more than eager to go out into the wider world, she'd been stationed on the Serpent.

    Privately, she suspected her older sister, Aliah, was responsible for her assignment. Aliah had gone to Skyrim years ago, but they'd kept in contact. Until three weeks ago. Aliah had stopped responding to her letters. So had the Thalmor troops assigned to her. At her request, she'd been granted permission to investigate. "you're sure you'll be alright, ma'am?" The soldier standing at her side asked. She glanced over at him. "I'll be fine, lieutenant. Solitude is Imperial. And the Imperials are on our side, yes?" She wasn't being sarcastic. As far as she knew, the Imperials were supporting Thalmor troops.

    The lieutenant, on the other hand, looked like he had very strong opinions on that. But he was a loyal soldier, so he just nodded. "Yes, ma'am. What would you like use to do?"
    "Stay in Solitude. I'll be back after a few weeks. With or without my sister" the lieutenant inclined his head, and Senya stepped off the ship, onto the ramp to the quayside.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    'So this is the fabled city of stone?' Senya thought as she stood outside the gates. She'd headed straight to the city from the capital of Solitude. On the way, she'd heard of Markarth as a wonderous city, but all she saw were bitter looking Bretons, and suspicious Nords. The guards approached her, and Senya smoothed her robes. She used a simply alteration spell to keep the light grey robes clean from the filth of the road.

    "Your business here, elf?" One barked, and Senya had to work to prevent herself from flinching at the mans harsh voice. Apparently, the imperial aligned city weren't feeling too loyal. Senyas' fingers strayed to the Thalmor pin hidden under her robes. "I'm running low on coin." She lied. "What is there for work around here?" Wondering if Aliah had been seen. Or heard of. She guessed that if her sister had given in to her darker side, she'd want a good place to disappear. And feed. The Reach seemed like a good place to do that.

    The guard that had questioned her shrugged. "Not much. The jarl is looking for a group to take out a den of animals." Senya frowned. An animal den was not something she would have thought someone would put a bounty out on. Humans, she decided, were strange. She inclined her head, and stepped past the guard. His companion shoved the gates open for her and stared. "Keep yourself out of trouble, elf."

    Senya frowned. 'Why would I want to get into trouble?' Humans were indeed strange. She decided to head for the tavern. If there was a group of mercenaries looking for work, the best place to search would be the local inn. She opened the door and wrinkled her nose, the smell, and sheer amount of rowdiness almost had her running back for the door. Instead, she headed for a quieter corner, and settled down, her keen eyes scanning the crowd.

    She noticed several who fit the description of mercenaries. One, the most notable, was an Imperial man, sitting at the bar, looking cold and distant. There was a woman with long, dark hair, with a pale complexion. With her was a young looking, red haired human girl. A tall Nord in steel reinforced leather armour sat at a table with a mug and a meal in front of him. Then there was a tall, robed figure, with his features completely concealed. A woman who looked like nobility sat at the bar as well, and Senya was surprised to see she was a Breton. From what little information she'd gathered, Bretons were treated with suspicion and dislike.

    Another Imperial sat on his own, with only a mug of ale in front of him, and looked like he was waiting for someone. Two others had just entered ahead of her: An older man, and someone who Senya guessed was his daughter. They both ordered drinks and sat down at a table. Both of them had a definite military bearing. She noticed the blue armour of the stormcloaks, and felt a chill run up her spine. The Thalmor patrols she'd come across on her way to Markarth had warned her about the atrocities the Stormcloaks committed. And what they did with captured Thalmor prisoners. For once, Senya was glad she'd chosen to conceal the pin under her robes. Making a mental note to keep well away from him and the girl with him, she ordered a glass of wine, tried not to draw too much attention.
     

    T. Rakinson

    A Brute among Beasts
    Stone beds. Not at all unusable, but of all things dwarven they werent one of Thomas' favourites. To be honest Thomas couldent remember even falling asleep, just candles, the room he was in, & a hooded figure.
    His back was sore, but that wasnt to blame on the bed. Pushing of the wool sheets of his carved out bed & sitting up, he checked to see whether the wound was still there. Unfortunatly so. The gash brought on by a forsworn arrow had been sealed, but the projectile must have been poisoned, for the veins flaring up on his thigh had turned a sickly shade of purple. Thomas placed his left palm over the infected region with the intent of restoring it, but a feminine voice in the shadows stopped him.

    "You might as well scratch it for all your skills in Restoration are worth. I did my best, so leave it be!"
    Thomas looked up to see a kinswoman, Senna the Dibellian priestess, looking over him with a scolding yet friendly face.
    "Fine. Have it your way". he groaned after attempting to turn to face his friend. After surveying the room around him, Thomas looked at her accusingly.
    "Damn. You didnt drag me to that forsaken Temple you call home, did you?"
    She laughed in a friendly way that Thomas didnt understand. He had thought he'd sounded genuinly concerned. Temples were not his kind of place; not with the stuff he was mixed up in.

    Soon the pain in his leg began to ebb away, & after testing his footing to register any lingering effects Thomas was back on his feet, with slight help from the priestess. She still hadnt answered his question, almost as if she was nervous around him.
    Rudely making a break for the door to see the other side, for he was coloured with intrigue as to where he was, Thomas was promptly knocked off his feet when someone barged in from the other side.
    "If it a'int my favourite drinking buddy!" Cosnach cheered as Thomas pushed himself shakily to his feet. "Let's get some mead!" He went on, then stopped as he noticed Senna standing awkwardly in the corner.
    "Oh dont sta-" Thomas started, but it was too late. Immediatly Cosnach broke into a perverted act that none but him would call 'courting' a woman. Senna, being of at least average moral standards, backed away in disgust.

    Quickly making her way for the exit, Senna stopped briefly to give Thomas a light peck on the cheek before her rushed departure. As she went, Thomas stared down the hallway she had left by; judging by the glow of a hearth in the distance & Cosnach's impromptu arrival, this was an inn.
    "Welcome to the Silver-Blood inn" Cosnach said proudly as he came over to pat Thomas on the shoulder.
    "That was a fast a fast recovery". He remarked.
    Cosnach, still sporting his drunken smile, changed the conversation.
    "So how 'bout that mead?"

    *****

    There at the bar the two of them sat, one on his third bottle of alcohol, the other as sober as a monk.
    "Y'know I bet that Senna gal' has a thing for you" Cosnach casually remarked in between swigs of his booze. Thomas looked up at his company in disbelief.
    "Then how do you explain that little speech of yours back there?" To which his friend guffawed with disturbing pitch.
    "Hey, dont blame me, I'm a womaniser! The ladies cant stay away from me & my package!"
    Thomas was about to shoot a comeback, most likely one that had something to Cosnach's liver being the only 'package' to get any action, when a series of whoop's & hollers filled the taverns.

    Two young women walked in; one of which looked too young to belong in a tavern of any sort. But nobody was looking at her, instead all sneaking looks at the slim, brunette imperial who accompanied the teen. Thomas hadnt seen clothing so provocative since the time he had accidently stumbled into the City brothel down the street. He looked away in embarassment for the young lady, with Cosnach taking an alternate approach.
    It was as he looked away that Thomas noticed some of the figures dotted around the room. An older man & teenage girl sat toghether at a table, the dark political blue they adorned somewhat obvious. Several thuggish types were loitering around, & a young elven miss too, who was attempting to avoid detection from others.
    But Thomas' eyes came to rest on a petite redhead of a similar age to himself. She sat with an air of importance on her respective barstool, surveying the brunette at the entrance with a look of concern. She didnt seem in a rush to finish her assigned drink, & her face, which could have belonged to anyone, from a innocent traveler to a cunning mastermind, looked very well maintained.

    Without gesturing to Cosnach of his departure, for he was still content to fixate on the other womans cleavage with an obvious lust, Thomas made his way over the redhead, slightly unsure of what to say. As he reached her, he decided on a like-minded outlook. Sitting down on an empty stool next to her he leaned over slightly, simultaneously pointing towards the woman.
    "I'm not sure about you, but if one of these chap's makes a frisky move towards that Breton girl over there then I intend to stand up".
    Momentarily glancing at his neighbour, he coolly offered her a handshake.
    "I'm Thomas, by the way, Redguard mercernary. & may I say that you certainly dont look like the type to frequent the taverns of the land. What's your story?"
     
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    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Before anything could happen to the two girls, a bulky Redguard man sat himself down on the stool beside Lily, pointing at the taller one who Lily had been watching carefully.
    "I'm not sure about you, but if one of these chaps makes a frisky move toward that Imperial girl over there, then I intend to stand up." Lily gave a sideways glance at her new companion. He was smiling; not in a disgusting, hopeful way that some men did, but instead a kind, friendly smile. He held out his hand.
    "I'm Thomas, by the way; Redguard mercenary." Lily gave a polite smile to Thomas, drawing on her experiences from dealing with the Breton nobility back home, and shaking his hand firmly.
    "Lily. Nice to meet you."
    "And may I say that you certainly don't look like the type to frequent the taverns of the land. What's your story?"

    Lily kept her eye on the tall woman, not letting Thomas take her attention away.
    "You're certainly a bold one, aren't you?" She gave a quick smirk at him, letting him know she didn't mind. "I'm originally from Evermor. If you can't already tell, I'm highborn. Not particularly proud of it, but anyway; I've been in Skyrim about a couple of weeks." Pausing momentarily, she pointed subtly at the woman. "And you certainly won't be alone if someone tries it on with her."
     
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    T. Rakinson

    A Brute among Beasts
    Thomas relaxed as his new friend smiled & introduced herself.
    "Lily. Nice to meet you."
    Thomas kept looking back & forth from the brunette & Lily, Who was doing something similar.
    "You're certainly a bold one, aren't you?" She said whilst smirking, & Thomas surpressed a smile. It looked like he wasnt the only one with a sense of humour. She paused for a moment, & Thomas wondered if the women had lost interest in the conversation. Then she spoke up again.
    "I'm originally from Evermor. If you can't already tell, I'm highborn. Not particularly proud of it, but anyway; I've been in Skyrim about a couple of weeks."
    Ah, a Breton, he thought. Just like the one who shot me in the leg this morning.
    "Well, you havent been missing out. Politically this place is as stable as the mountains that border it, & that dosent do my buisness any favours". At this Thomas glanced over at the pair of Stormcloaks at their table. Hopefully they hadnt heard him just then. Though having never encountered the rebels before, from what puplic opinion would suggest they were quite barbaric in their method's. Still watching the pair, he spoke again.
    "Your posture is quite impressive, it goes without saying, but you can relax your spine. Nobody here's going to care how you sit on a stool, Ma'am".
    As he turned around again Lily was pointing at the brunette, who he really needed to find a name for.
    "And you certainly won't be alone if someone tries it on with her." Thomas looked at Lily with surprise, now taking in the blade she kept at her side. It would seem Iv'e found quite the fighter.
    "Well, its nice to know i'll have backup should the need arrive"
    Thomas contemplated, but his mind had begun to wander elsewhere.
    Even if he had arrived at Markarth barely conscious, he had killed all the forsworn at the redoubt. The authorities would obviously pay him for it, but now Thomas wondered if his services would become redundant with all the Stormcloaks milling about, looking for the Jarl's favour. Sadly, this could be his closing days in the Reach, for he was beginning to enjoy the holds natural beauty. But it was still worth looking around for jobs.
    Thomas turned to look at Lily, speaking quietly for fear of eavesdroppers overhearing.
    "Your a fighter then?" he casually remarked to the redhead, nodding at her weapon. "I dont suppose you've heard of any jobs flying 'round the neighbourhood?"
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    "You're a fighter, then?" Thomas nodded down at Lily's sabre.
    "My father taught me how to fight. He wasn't as naive as my mother..." She trailed off, not really wanting to talk about her father. The memory was still too fresh in her mind.
    "I don't suppose you've heard of any jobs flying 'round the neighbourhood?"
    "Well, the guards at the gate mentioned something about an animal problem. The Jarl's looking for warriors, apparently, to deal with it. Not entirely sure what exactly it involves though."
    Lily took a sip of her mead casually, crossing her legs and leaning back against the bar.
     

    Dabiene Caristiana

    Your friendly neighborhood weirdo
    (I'm going to assume the others were there before the twins)

    Entering through the golden doors the twins stopped short after the doors closed behind them. The Inn, was completely and utterly, packed. However there were several few who stood out. An older man, a father by the look of it, was with his apparent daughter. A solitary man off on his own with a mug next to him, untouched. The shadows hugged him as if it was his own personal friend. Like he belonged there. Off at another part there was what appeared to Erebus, a small looking... Child? No. She seemed older and yet she was so small. Shaking his head he looked at the person next to her. She was pale, with long brown hair hugging her all the way down to the small of her back. In another part, there was a Nord in steel armor. There were many others there, but Erebus didn't have time to study them all as his impatient sister nudged him forward.

    "Keep moving... Not a good idea to draw attention dear brother." She hissed in a low tone.

    Erebus walked forward and plastered a friendly smile on his face, looking at the bartender. "Sorry, I thought it was irrelevant since my dear sister is wearing thieves armor." He bit back.

    "Hello." Walking up and leaning against the bar he addressed the man. "I'm guessing all the rooms are booked then...?"

    "What do you think?" The bartender answered sarcastically. "We don't have rooms available, but you're welcome to stay here regardless. If you have the coin that is." Erebus cocked a brow and looked over at his sister. She shrugged and walked off toward the welcoming fireplace. "This is the Silver-Blood Inn," The man continued, "And as I said, as long as you've got the coin, you're welcome here. Otherwise, get out."

    A woman who appeared to be his age pushed him out of the way and addressed the young thief. "I'm sorry about my dear husband Kleppr." She turned to glare at her husband, "It seems he's getting rather cranking lately."

    "Oh dear wife, I wouldn't be so joyful without you around." Kleppr grounded out.

    "Hmph!" Turning back to Erebus she smiled, wanting to help as many people as possible it seemed. Well, with a husband like that it wouldn't do well to lose customers because of him, the thief thought. She might as well repair the damage. "Unlike my husband I watch after our guests." They both heard a snort but it was ignored. "Now, what can I get you young man?"

    Leaning against the bar he pondered what he and his sister would probably want to eat. "Hm... Uh, how about two bowls of beef stew? Please?" He added in the last part quickly after remembering his manners. Even though the young man was a thief, he wasn't without manners.

    "Coming right up! Anything else..?" The woman raised an eyebrow in question, seemingly knowing what he was about to ask.

    "Right uh... I heard the Jarl is looking for work, do you know what--"


    "Say no more!" She interrupted, "Apparently the Jarl has been requesting aid to deal with an animal problem." Dropping her voice she continued. "I don't know which of these people are here for that particular job, but I'm sure the more you have in one group, the better the chances you have in being paid. I heard the Jarl has a no death rule on this bounty."

    'Hm.. Might work to an advantage. Don't know how many wolves there would be. You never know what's around the corner...'

    "Alright, uh, thanks. By the way... What happened to the, y'know." Looking around he then whispered to her, "Forsworn? My sister and I haven't seen any when we were coming up here."

    "Up from where?" Her eyes narrowed before she continued, "The Stormcloaks washed things up. Things are getting a little rocky between the Empire and the Reach. So if I were you... I wouldn't cause trouble. Your soup will be ready in a minute. I'll call you when it's done." Turning around she set herself to making the meal, leaving Erebus high on edge after that conversation.

    'Man, the others weren't kidding when people up here were wary of Imperials... I didn't think it would get this bad. Better than not getting food though, which is nice. Bella and I should count ourselves lucky.'

    Walking around and over to where Isabella sat, which was right up next to the fire cross legged on the floor, he stood next to her. "You're going to catch on fire if you sit that close."

    Rolling her eyes she huffed in annoyance, not moving an inch. "I'm fine. Did you get us a room?"

    "No, couldn't. Got some food though, should be ready in a bit." Her brother sat down next to her, but not nearly as close as she was to the fire. After a few minutes the woman came over and gave them their soup.

    "Here. I figured I'd bring it to you since you both look so haggard."

    Erebus looked at her, taking his bowl. Isabella fished out the amount of gold needed before trading with the woman for the soup. "Thanks." She mumbled, clearly exhausted.

    "If you two need anything else, let me know. My name is Frabbi by the way." Turning away she walked off, leaving the twins to their soup.

    Eating quietly, Erebus soon spoke up. "Apparently the Jarl is looking for people to clear out a bunch of wolves."

    "That it?" Bella murmured quietly.

    "I'm afraid so."

    That continued to eat in silence, too tired to speak anymore.
     
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    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Ardus was nursing his drink. There was nothing wrong with the alcohol, but Ardus had a feeling whoever was looking for mercs would be showing up soon. Or maybe they were already in the tavern. And he didn't want to be drunk off his ass when he or she turned up. The door to the tavern opened, and Ardus glanced over his shoulder. An old man and a younger woman. Both wore a colour Ardus had long since grown tired of seeing.

    The blue of Stormcloak colours. The pair of them came inside like they belonged, and the hunter turned back to his drink. Then he started thinking. Markarth was Imperial loyal, and had been for the duration of the civil war. Ardus hadn't noticed any recent signs of fighting in or around the city. Nor had he seen any soldiers or prisoners. Which meant those two weren't part of an invading army. And if they were travelling covert, they were doing a very bad job of it. He swivelled in his chair, noticing that they'd taken their seats and were paying attention to the patrons that obviously weren't regular. Which lead Ardus to think they knew something he didn't.

    Which made the bounty hunter uncomfortable. He decided to go over and ask them nicely. If they played dumb, he might have to ask them...not so nicely. But he wanted to avoid that if he could. Blood in a tavern tended to kill the atmosphere. He drained the rest of his drink, and stood. Ardus guessed that the pair were related. There were a few similarities that a skilled eye would notice. He approached, snatching an empty chair from a nearby table, and thumped it down, so that the older man was on his right, and the girl on his left.

    "Good evening, folks." He drawled. "Not many Stormcloaks in these parts. Some of the less informed would say there's not a lot of anything going on in the Reach right now." He offered them his coldest smile, one that showed his teeth, but no warmth reached his eyes. "But a small company for a pack of animals...those of us not in the know might think that's a little...strange. Don't you?" He paused, scanning their faces for any recognition. If they did know what he was talking about, they hid it well. "Unless you're in the know. Of course, if you were, you'd help out a poor mercenary down on his luck. Wouldn't you?"
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    As the two Psyrakons watched the room they continued to munch on bread and sip their drinks. Soon after, the food they ordered earlier arrived. A hot bowel of venison stew with some bread for Simus and a small center cut steak and some salmon steaks for Alice. The food was good and both of them ordered another drink to wash it down, another mead for Simus and an ale for Alice. Ale was a much weaker drink than mead but Alice rarely drank and was small enough to where any amount of alcohol went to her head. Simus was much larger than his daughter, and more muscled, so he could obviously handle more. The drinking games all Stormcloak rookies had to go through were...difficult for Alice, to put it mildly.

    As they ate the tall Imperial bounty hunter walked over and pulled up a chair next to them. He gave them a cold smile and commented that there weren't many Stormcloaks in these parts. It sounded passive-aggressive and Alice was worried he was here to start a fight but it really seemed he was pumping them for information. They'd heard about the Jarl posting a bounty on some wild animals but there had to be more to it than that. No one posted a bounty on wild animals. Simus and Alice were here for rest, not blood, so they really weren't interested.

    "I suppose it is strange." Simus said. "But the Jarl surely has his reasons." He took another drink of his mead, then sat it down. "It's not really something we're interested in. We're just here for some dinner and a quiet drink." He smiled at the man politely, hoping he would leave. Alice looked at him but stayed quiet.
     

    Seanu Reaves

    The Shogun of Gaming
    Viverac entered the tavern thoroughly lost and absent minded. Hand holding up the sagging brim of his hat, he looked around inquisitively. Taking in all the sights of the tavern, a place he never had to enter before. Gazing in the open door, Viverac fluffed his robes out with a small gust of steam, cleaning them of what minimal particulates he could have collected on his little jaunt before entering. His modified Thalmor robes where still unmistakable, and his amber eyes excluded him from being human. The Barman raised an eyebrow, obviously not impressed with the little display of power.

    “If you are gonna do something like that I suggest you take it outside the city, Elf. Shor's bones. Outside Skyrim would be even more perfect.”

    Viverac laughed as the man’s wife began whispering in his ear. Probably based off some superstition that a wizard could turn all the ale stores to piss or something. Viverac couldn’t say he was put out by the barman. He was not just a mage, he was an elf, and even worse he had definite ties to the Thalmor. Needless to say Viverac wasn’t the most popular man in Skyrim. He took the time to look around the bar, trying to get a feel for who else would be with him or against him, in this quest of killing some beasts. Viverac pondered for a second if beasts was a new slang for Forsworn. Seems like an apt enough designation, he concluded.

    He smelled Stormcloaks, and found a couple among the crowd. They were engaged with an Imperial. Ondolemar probably meant for me to kill a Talos Lover outside the walls, he thought. Pity the pressure wave from a good fireball is much more impressive in an enclosed area.

    “So what can I do for you? Honored guest…” Viverac could have sworn he heard teeth grinding.

    “Something… Sweet… How about… Some sweetrolls? And… Some mead… Yes that sounds good right now.”

    “Will you be joining the other High Elf? The woman.”

    “Oh? Why yes. That is why I am here. To see a kinswoman. Totally here to see the... Altmer... Woman.”

    The Barman raised his eyebrow at that. Viverac was too distracted to really care about the interpretations of others. He was a master of an arcane art, damn it! Why should he care to be “respectful” or “normal” or “responsible for his actions?” Poppycock! Viverac seemed to glide compared to the bounding steps of the Barkeep. When they reached the table, Viverac bowed, sweeping his hat across his knee.

    “Mind if I join you? I am afraid there are very few fellow Mer as finely bred as ourselves to be found.”
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Senya looked up from her wine as the tavern door opened once more. A robed, amber eyed elf stepped inside. He used a short blast of magic, and his robes rippled. The inn keeper snapped something at him, obviously not thrilled with his display of magic. She watched as the mans wife approached and whispered urgently to the inn keeper.

    The mans abruptly changed his tone. She wondered why that was, until she got a better look at his robes. Though heavily customized, she still recognized them as Thalmor gear. She doubted he recognized her as a fellow Thalmor. With her pale grey, almost white robes, she was dressed quite differently than the typical Thalmor wizard. She'd heard there was a small garrison in Markarth, and wondered if this particular Altmer was part of it. He was obviously a powerful spell caster. Probably more powerful than her, or at least more experienced.

    He approached, lead by the the innkeeper. Once he'd reached the table, the Altmer mage swept his hat off, and bowed. He asked if he minded if he joined her, and Senya smiled. "Not at all" she gestured to the chair across from her, using a little telekinesis to shove the chair out a little. Once he'd taken his seat, she said "actually, I'm relieved to find another in the same line of work." She discretely shifted her robes, revealing the Thalmor pin on her tunic. She wondered if this mage would be willing to help her with tracking down her sister.
     

    fellowknight

    The Devil In The Details
    Earlier that day...

    SHUNK!

    Damn, Baroth thought, as the parchment he held went flying from his hand into a tree just a few feet ahead of him, impaled on an arrow.

    An Elvish one.

    A mer... Baroth thought. Cant be an Altmer. Must be a Bosmer.

    Swiftly turning on his left heel and pulling up the hidden dagger from within his boot, Baroth hurled the blade at the shadow in an instant, and no sooner had it left his hand, had another arrow knocked it down. He's quick, Baroth thought, getting a momentary observation. The sun had covered the man's backside, casting his shadow forwards to cover Baroth. His face was hidden under a cloak of some kind, the color unidentifiable. From this angle. But gods was he quick with that bow. Baroth only knew one person who was.

    ...Jen?

    Baroth didn't stop moving as he quickly rolled diagonally left, pulling the next hidden blade from his gauntlet and, twirled as he stood, hurling the blade again, only feet from the man now. And once again, the blade was deflected with another swiftly notched arrow.

    Damn it. It's gotta be him.

    Baroth then bent at the waist and hurled himself up and forward, flipping in midair and landing just next to Jen. Before Jen could turn and draw his blade quickly enough, Baroth had pulled his shield from the latch on his back and rammed it into the mer, knocking him down and back. Baroth then drew his sword quickly and charged at Jen, whom already stood and had notched another arrow, releasing. Baroth spun on his heel quickly enough to deflect arrow with his shield, the very wood of the shaft splintering and flying away in pieces. And, before Baroth could balance himself out, a pair of feet clashed with his shield, throwing him back.

    No sooner had Baroth drawn his sword and even had a chance to stand, was the Bosmer upon him, their swords meeting in a shower of dim sparks. And they were at each other, their flurries and counters simple blurs, too fast for the average fighter to even keep up with. Their skirmish lasted little over a minute, before Jen's feet clashed with Baroth's chest, throwing him back into a roll, from which he stood.

    Panting but balanced, Baroth peered over his shield to confirm whom it was that matched him. And almost immediately, a wolfish grin crossed his lips as he sheathed his sword and pinned his shield on his back.

    Jen fluidly twirled his sword into the sheathe on his back, pulled back his hood, and returned the welcoming glance of a man he hadn't seen in over three years.

    "Nae saian luume', Mellonamin. (It's been too long, my friend.)" Jen said, his deep, but soft Elvish voice challenging Baroth's Lingual skills. They usually did this when they met. But gods had it been a while

    "Ed' i'ear ar' elenea! Mae govannen! Mae govannen! (By the seas and stars! Well met! Well met!)" Baroth replied, walking forwards to meet Jen's handshake with a firm grasp of his own. But instead, they hugged for a moment, before Baroth backed from the embrace to grip Jen's shoulders, shaking him lightly as he spoke again, his voice deep but relaxed.

    "It's been far too long, my friend." Baroth said, eyeing Jen up and down. Well, at least his armor hasn't changed. "What on Nirn are you doing back in Skyrim? I thought you'd moved back to Valenwood for good."

    "I did....for a few months."

    Baroth tilted his head slightly, out of curiosity. "And what brought you back?"

    Jen only sighed and looked off towards the setting sun. "I've yet to find out myself." He looked back to Baroth, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the Reach, a few miles invisible in the distance beyond the two. "I was, however, tracking a string of slaughters here. All the way from the Reach. All messengers."

    Baroth nodded and, remembering the note, tapped Jen's shoulder and motioned for him to follow.

    "Well then..." Baroth said, snatching Jen's arrow from the tree and tossing it to him, with the note still attached. Jen caught it with little effort. "I just might have a lead for you."

    After quickly scrolling over the words carefully, Jen looked up at Baroth, pulling the arrow from the paper and then sheathing it, tossing the now folded paper back to Baroth, whom caught it in one hand.

    "Strange. It sounds like something fit for one or two bandits." Jen said. "Not nearly enough to send out a parchment."

    Baroth nodded slowly, his own thoughts giving way to question.

    Why had the Jarl of Markarth sent out so many messengers to 'persons of interest'? Or more importantly, why had Baroth been the reason why the lad had come here? What was really happening here?...

    Baroth looked down at the body, kneeling slowly as he spoke. "Why is this boy dead, Jen? Why did he die..." Baroth trailed off, his thoughts over coming him with action. He reached a hand down and turned the boy's stiff neck to the side, exposing two identical bite marks. A vampire's mark. He needed to move. Standing quickly, Baroth walked off towards the road, passing Jen.

    "Baroth? Where are you going?"

    "I must make haste to the Reach, Jen. If I'm right about what is about to unfold, then the others Jarl Igmund has summoned are in grave danger. I can't forsake them. I will meet you at the gates of Markarth tonight, and from there we can-"

    "No, no. There is no 'we' anymore, Baroth. I have told you, I'm not here for that."

    "You said you didn't know why you were here... Jen, look this may not sound important, but it was important enough for the Jarl of Markarth himself to send several messengers to their deaths. We need to move in on this one, together. I can't do this alone."

    "Baroth, look! There is no 'we' anymore! I have had my adventures and I have seen the true face of Tamriel and I have NOT returned to be dragged back in to another one of your crusades! I leave for Winterhold today, sailed for Northern Morrowind. I am done with this forsaken land."

    And with that, Jen turned on his heel and marched off towards the road, shortly followed by Baroth whom continued to object.

    "Forsaken land? Jen, you once stood guard against any and all evil that even thought about entering these lands! And a crusade? By the gods, is that what you think this is? This is an effort to defend this land from....nightspawn! LIVES are at stake and all you can think about is your PEACE in Morrowind?! Why, I knew a Jen who'd once held the Western Mountain pass against THREE regiments of orcs, BY HIMSELF, just to save a simple town of farmers and beggers! A Jen who'd risk his very life in pursuit of justice and a damn fine adventure! A Jen who, when given enough reason and emergency, would gladly risk his life for ANY innocent's. I have not the faintest idea as to what has happened to you, but is not of the better. The fastest archer I once knew has grown soft! Where is the Jen I once knew? Where is Arcshot?"

    Jen only stopped to glance back at Baroth, before walking urgently down the road.

    "Ro gurd en Valenwood. (He died in Valenwood.)"

    Baroth sighed and held up the note, unfolding it in the sunlight to read it a final time, before folding it once again and moving off, towards his house.

    ..........​

    A few hours later that night..

    Baroth huffed outwards as he hauled the heavy knapsack with him to hop off the carriage he'd rode for a good ten hours all the way from Riften to Markarth. The ride was so long, Baroth and the driver sometimes switched places between towns and passed the time by making small talk and gossiping some. But gods had the ride been long and boring. Baroth was just happy to get his feet on the ground again.

    There was something peculiar about Markarth that led Baroth to visit it often. Maybe it was that fact that it was made and left behind by the Dwemer. It couldn't be it's structures, horribly built as they were. Baroth loved the dwarves, but their structures never did hold up too well, even after a few centuries, what few ruins that were left were barely standing. All Baroth knew for sure was that he'd gotten himself mixed up in another endeavor and needed to focus on what was ahead. Firstly, the gates.

    After paying the driver and bidding him farewell, Baroth pushed open the gates to Markarth and looked about the dark, empty market only for a moment, before moving off to the Inn. There, he'd be able to get some food in him, and a warm bed under his back, despite it begin made of stone. Besides, Baroth doubted there were THAT many people here already.

    No sooner had he even opened the door to the tavern, had he realized how wrong he was. Though thinly spread out in pairs and singles, the tavern was filled with oddly dressed folk Baroth had to assume were either summoned here by the same letter he'd received, or had all just conveniently stopped here right around the same time. Most glanced at him with vared expressions as he came in. Slowly walking forward, Baroth quickly took mental note of who all was here, as they were most likely a part of the gathering band he'd heard of.

    Two people, likely twins by their identical appearances, sat together at a table, also looking to him for a few moments before returning to their food. Baroth noted their shady looking armor as either thieves or hunters. Either way, he made sure to keep an eye on them, mentally.

    Baroth then checked the darker corners and tables of the tavern, as he'd learned over the past few months that many a mercenary would use those as vantage points, or lookouts. Vampires sometimes carried the same habits. Though, with the given news, Baroth doubted he'd find one here.

    But, sure as his suspicions were, a man, mostly hidden in the dull shadows of one of the tables closest the door, sat, watching Baroth intently as he'd walked in. Smart move. Given his distance and non-interested look towards the other patrons, Baroth would have to coin that he was a free-lancer of some sort. And surely someone like that wouldn't have come to Markarth for no reason.

    Being sure to check the rest of the corners, Baroth nearly skipped over a woman and man of some sort, also in the dull light of a candled table, where she was now responding to an odd looking man. He took note of her Elvish appearance and silky looking robes. The man, he took note of his large brimmed hat and eerie glowing eyes. Altmer. Baroth grunted.

    At another table facing the door, Baroth found what looked like either a Nord or very rough looking Imperial warrior, given his armor.

    At the bar, Baroth noted an odd pair of a Redguard and what was either an imperial or Breton woman engaged in conversation. Along with the odd pair of strikingly gorgeous women, one with jet black hair and the other with red hair, also much too young to be a woman, Baroth noticed another pair, one outfitted in dragon-bone armor, which Baroth Immediately recognized as a Stormcloak due the symbols that had been pressed clear as day into various clearings on the chestplate.

    The other, a young girl, wore a blue dress with tall boots and a one-piece tight-fitting leather, or so it looked. Butat was just a glance. He'd have to come back to really figure them out. Now why would a Stormcloak and a little girl be doing this deep in the Reach? Were Baroth's only thoughts as he leaned against the bar, looking down the counter at the small conversation between what looked like a mercenary, and the two oddly familiar looking pair, whom he now recognized as either father and daughter, or very good friends.

    Thinking otherwise would make him puke.

    The older male, either a rough looking Imperial or a finely raised Nord, sat to Baroth's far right, with the younger girl to his close right. He was bearing four nasty scars and a blind eye on the left side of his face, backed only by his pure silver hair hanging in strands, giving off his old age.

    A father. In contrast to the young girl next to him, in the casual, iron-pressed blue dress.

    The much younger girl at his side, and one chair to the right of Baroth, remained a mystery to him, though he felt he'd seen them both somewhere before. Her exposed skin was a lightly shaded cream that contrasted deeply with her ebony flushed hair that fell just below her jaw, to her neck.

    Who in oblivion are they?.... Baroth thought, taking a small breath. Who...

    In his state of momentary inquiring, Baroth hadn't noticed the woman, Kleppr's wife, trying to get him to snap out of it and stop wasting her time. Shaking his head and dearly apologizing, Baroth calmly and quietly ordered a biscuit with spiced rice and a tankard of ale. He asked for it to be delivered to his room before moving off to the right of the counter, towards one of the several doors that lined the hallways of the inn, pushing it open and leaving it open. Then he sat on the hard stone bed, undoing his steel armor straps and setting the chestplate on the ground by his knapsack, then waiting for his food.

    He'd need to eat, before he'd have time to focus and think over the situation.
     
    Last edited:

    Seanu Reaves

    The Shogun of Gaming
    Viverac smirked and lowered his Alik’r wrappings, revealing an attractive if slightly angular face. Running a hand through his sandy blonde hair to smooth it out, he smirked at the woman. So she isn’t just a random Altmer, He thought. Makes sense really, little reason to be in Skyrim if you weren’t a Thalmor it felt like these days. He had to smile a little to himself, not only was she a comrade but a practitioner of magic as well. His smile only grew when his food and mead arrived. A fresh sweet roll smelled divine to Viverac, his wanderings already working off most of the energy from his earlier sweetroll. He took a sip of his mead, and let out a satisfied sigh. Always a nice change of pace from the tea and wine, he concluded, happy at his choice.

    “Ah, I suppose here on business makes sense. Not many like us would deem this place as a good vacation destination, I suppose.”

    He glanced around for the reason he even drifted own to this miserable establishment. He thought he saw the pair of female humans among the crowd. It was valuable as it allowed him to check out the Stormcloaks from a different vantage point. Turning back to his new companion, he decided more pleasantries were in order. Well, by pleasantries Viverac means harmless and horrible attempts at flirting.

    “My name is Baen, Viverac Baen. Whom do I have the honor of supping with?”
     

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