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    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Kallus Briarhand, paladin of Arkay and bastion of righteousness, entered the city much like a stormfront heralds the coming of the storm. His pale blue eyes like shards of ice as he swept the inhabitants before him. Very few found themselves able to hold that stern, almost accusing gaze for very long. Even the guardsmen found a path that brought them out of the heavily armoured mans line of sight. Little did they know, the people of Markarth had nothing to fear from him, so long as they did nothing to hinder his mission. The man marched down into the main market, vigilant eyes keeping the more noteworthy within view. An orc soldier, an imperial in an armour and a long coat, a man or perhaps mer who had his features hidden, and a pair of khajiit. Of those, the masked individual drew his attention.

    He lengthened his stride, determined to catch the mysterious person before they could breach the inn. Most confrontations were best done in the open, he found. Where he could call upon the guards to arrest the target of his ire, should they attempt to flee. However, it looked like he was to be too slow, as the masked man pushed the door to the inn open and stepped through. The breton cursed under his breath and hurried to the door, ignoring the annoyed curse of a miner he happened to shove out of the way in his haste. The door flew open under the force of his armoured shoulder, and Kallus stood framed by the natural light, surveying the dimly lit room before him for his ignorant target. Annoyed or outright hostile faces stared back, but all of them were bare, if grimy.

    But the man he wished to speak to had not vanished. Had barely made it inside, in fact. Kallus placed a heavy, gauntleted hand on the shoulder of his target. "You there. You are not a local. Tell me, what have you heard of this forsworn incursion? Who leads them and what are their motives?" He glanced at the others in the tavern, a pair of identical looking elves, a dunmer, and an argonian. "And why have you assembled here, rather than gathering out in the square, ready to face them? This work will tolerate no layabouts!" He put some righteous zeal in those last words, intended to inspire the hired blades, for what else could they be? To action.
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    The bounty hunter chuckled, not even a little surprised at the womans' attitude. He probably would have been disappointed by any other response. "But if this one makes no noise, how will the prey know to run? And what is a good hunt if there is no chase, hmmm?" He offered another grin, more genuine than the first. "Khajiit is known as Draj Kir. Presumably you are here, in Markarth, to join our little hunt in the making, yes?" He nodded towards the orc soldier, the imperial man, and a heavily armored new comer with a piercing gaze that seemed to have eyes for whoever was entering the inn at that moment. "It promises to be an interesting one, at any rate." His eyes wandered from the other khajiits' figure to the greatsword over her shoulder. "An interesting blade you have there. One might wonder how you wield such a thing properly."
     

    Aspen

    Member
    The twins watched the khajiit man take his leave from the secluded table in the corner. It appeared that neither the argonian nor his dunmer friend were looking for help. That could prove a problem if Vaella and Valion were to team up with them. Which seemed unlikely, given the way they'd just sent off the last adventurer. Vaella was about to suggest looking elsewhere when the door swung open, and a man in heavy plate stomped inside. He quickly gave speech intended to rouse the mercenaries and adventurers like Vaella and her twin, and the pair at the far table to action. Risking a quick glance over to the that area, she saw the mans words had little effect on the two. Little noticable effect, anyways.

    But he seemed to know what he was doing, even if he was a little overzealous. "Wait here" Vaella instructed her twin, and left her seat, making a beeline for the human. He was still standing near the doorway, sweeping the crowd with his imperious gaze. When she'd gotten close enough that she would not have to raise her voice too much over the noise of the inn, she said "well met, sir knight. While my brother and I appreciate your enthusiasm, it may be best to wait a little while longer. Rushing headlong into danger is a good way to end up dead."
     

    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Kallus looked down at the elven woman before him, eyes narrowing. He heard her words, but he didn't appreciate them. On the other hand, the woman had a point. He had seen many fall to an unseen opponent due to their zeal. And he could not take on the entire force of forsworn holed up in the nearby mines. "Very well," he grumbled, before heading towards the bar. The barkeep, an older man with greasy, greying hair, "welcome to the silver blood own, my lord. I'll let you figure out who owns it on your own. What would you like?"

    The reminder that a family as corrupt as the Silver Bloods owned nearly everything in the city was not welcome. "Bread and water will suffice." He told the barkeep, who snorted derisively. "Water? You might as well ask for molten silver. It'd cost less." He started to chuckle, but Kallus' stern glare killed the laughter in his throat. "Ah, yes. Water. Right away, sir." The bread and water was brought over quickly and set before him in a plain, carved plate and a metal tankard. As he ate between sips of cool, if expensive water, he examined the crowded tavern. Miners seemed to be the majority, forced out of work because, no doubt, of the raiders who'd moved into their mines. The large argonian was the most notable of the four mercenary types inside, but he sense not the most dangerous. Time would tell, but the paladin would be sure to watch his back when in their presence.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    "That may be so, but it also gives them time to prepare and set a trap. Can't prepare if you don't expect anyone." She explained, tilting her head at the other mercenaries introduction. "Could be that I'll be joining you. From what I hear, there are a good number of forsworn lurking around those mines. I'm Kaliir." She glanced up at a hooded and robed man who was making his way down towards the market. He didn't seem to be watching, but he wasn't exactly doing anything else, either. The khajiit woman narrowed her eyes, but before she could mention their unobtrusive observer, the other khajiit asked about her sword. Specifically, how she wielded it 'properly'. She laughed at that, "you mean because I'm so short? With a great amount of practice and skill. Lots of moving around." She gestured to the hilt of the blade, jutting over her shoulder. "Not really practical to bring a shield when I've got a blade like mine."
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    "Ah, not at all. Draj Kir meant no offense. Only that you do not seem the type to wield such a blade. Seems a tad unwieldy, if you catch this ones' meaning." The hilt of the weapon, jutting over the smaller khajiits' shoulder drew his attention. "Would you be so kind as to let me hold the weapon?" He noticed that her attention was straying away from him, over his shoulder, to be specific. He had no reason to suspect a trick on her part, so he turned slightly so that he might see what had drawn her attention. A hooded man stood above the marketplace, his features hidden in a deep hood. The man didn't seem dangerous or particularly hostile, so Draj'Kir paid him little mind. He was getting restless, if truth be told, and eager to get out on the road. The Forsworn weren't going to kill themselves, after all.
     
    With the departure of the masked man, Emeric found himself standing alone on the stone steps, and feeling rather foolish. It was not a welcome feeling, and the odd looks he received from a handful of adventurers below, along with the passing guards and civilians, spurred him to action. Moving quickly in his heavy purple robes, he descended to the main market, that was still bustling with activity. He deftly navigated the crowd, muttering under his breath as a wagon drawn by a pair of horses and laden with fresh produce cut him off. Finally, he reached the center of the square, and placed to fingers to his own throat. He closed his eyes, preparing the spell. It was a simple cantrip, really. Something most alteration mages could learn, but few bothered to. Eyeing the adventurers, he spoke, his words seemingly carried directly to their ears: "Come to me. We share a common purpose, and time is wasting." The spell would not reach any inside, or any he could not see, but he trusted the sudden gathering in the market would draw some attention at least. He had little desire to lead, but he had even less of a desire to be cut apart because he'd made himself vulnerable.
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    "Come to me. We share a common purpose, and time is wasting." Merric, who'd been contemplating entering the inn only a few moments, frowned and turned his head. It had sounded like someone speaking directly into his ear, and he was sure he hadn't imagined the words. As far as he could remember, he didn't have a history of hallucination, and there was no indication he should start now. A quick survey of the surrounding area revealed that the robed man was no longer at his post on the stairs. Instead, he now stood roughly in the center of the market, fingers at his own throat, and impatience rolling off him in waves. Curious, but under the impression that the common purpose that he spoke of was ridding the mines of the Forsworn menace, he approached.

    The swordsman rested his hand on the hilt of his longsword, more out of habit than caution. The man didn't appear to be armed. Of course, the small display of magic indicated he was at least a capable spell caster, if nothing else. With that in mind, Merric nodded to the robed and hooded individual. "Greetings. I suppose that sending was your work." He looked around, waiting to see how many others would answer the call. "Are you to lead us then? I am a capable swordsman, but I fear my leadership skills are somewhat lacking." He admitted as much without embarrassment. He knew full well where his skills lay, and it most certainly was not in leading a group of mercenaries. Except perhaps by example.
     

    Aspen

    Member
    Vaella had barely taken her seat when a there was a stutter in the hustle and bustle outside the inn, at the marketplace that was still filling with merchants and townsfolk. She doubted any but an elf, or perhaps a khajiit would have picked up on it. In the instant the bosmer ranger glanced at her twin to confirm the occurrence, noise continued outside as if it had never been interrupted. Valion nodded slightly, "I heard it as well" he murmured, cautiously standing from his seat at the table. The miners watched them. They watched the miners, the door, and the other adventurers inside.

    Vaella stepped over to one of the two windows that faced out into Markarth. Before, where rushing bodies and carts had been, stood a man. Or she assumed he was a man. With thick roves obscuring most of the persons face, it was difficult to decide their gender. "Something is happening outside," she called to the others. She realized that was not exactly true the moment she said it. Nothing was really happening out in the market. The robed figure was merely standing there, as if waiting for someone. A moment later, he was joined by a dark haired imperial, who seemed to introduce himself. If the robed figure responded in kind, she did not see it. But that was all the proof she needed to be urged outside.

    Valion was at her side, and he glanced over at his twin. "Perhaps this is our leader. Or it maybe that he has information that could be useful to us." With those words, the twins left the Silver Blood Inn, emerging into the brisk morning air of the Reach. Tainted as it was by the scent of smoke and horse dung, it was still more refreshing than sitting in a dingy tavern waiting to be summoned. She and Valion walked up to the robed man, for at this distance, there was no question to its' gender, and bowed slightly at the waist. "Well met" Vaella said, once again serving as the spokesperson for the group. "My brother and I are at your service if- of course, you seek to wipe out the Forsworn menace in the mines outside the city?"
     

    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Kallus had barely finished his meal and drink when the bosmer woman, the one adorned in the garb of a ranger, announced that something was happening outside. Curious and more than a little eager to be on the road and out of this den of corruption, the paladin stood, hefting his shield over his shoulder as he did so. He stepped to the window to take a look for himself, just as the woman, and another wood elf who seemed related to her, whisked out the door. He didn't see anything happening, besides the normal things one would expect to see on a morning in the marketplace. Merchants, horses, wagons, and guards. And, he noted, a pair of men, one of them, a swordsman by the looks of him, was talking to a tall, hooded figure. A moment later the pair were joined by the nearly identical elves. A leader of some sort, then. Or at least someone who is taking the initiative.

    Kallus headed to the door, grudgingly admitting that the robed man was having better luck assembling the adventurers and sellswords than he had. The breton paladin shoved the door open and marched over to the man, passing an orc in legion armour and a khajiit in leather and mail. He reached the four in the market in time to hear the elf offering the services of herself and her brother to the robed man, and assuming that he was the leader of their expedition. "I too, would like to lend my services to this quest. Though I think it prudent if I lead this group." He gave the robed and hooded man a once over. Clearly a mage of some sort. "It would seem I have the greater experience."
     

    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    The wood elf pair that'd entered shortly after Aylira and Sothas had suddenly left after the female announced something was happening outside. Aylira tilted her head, listening for some commotion, then frowned. Sothas tilted his head, familiar with his companions facial expressions, and he knew the difference between confusion and worry. "What is it?" He asked, keeping his voice low. She shrugged, standing from her table and tossing a small coinpurse on the table. "I don't know. Doesn't sound like anything is happening. But I think we might be about to head out." Sothas nodded, slinging his shield and standing, noting the apprehensive stares of a few of the miners with some amusement. "Then let us go. I was getting tired of all the relaxation and quiet anyways." The dunmer shot Sothas and irritated scowl before leading the way to the door.

    Outside, the pair noticed a hooded and robed man, surrounded by several others, including the knight-type breton, an imperial, and the two elves from the inn. The breton was currently offering his services and at the same time stating that he should be the one to lead the group, as he was the most experienced. "Sure are making some assumptions, aren't you?" Aylira said with a smirk. Sothas merely crossed his arms and looked around. The khajiiti mercenary he'd spoken with earlier had found another of his kind, and was engaged in conversation. An orc stood near the doors to the inn, speaking to a third, furtive looking khajiit. Whether they were all here for the same bounty, he couldn't tell, but he would bet good money that they were.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    A voice spoke in her ear, and she nearly jumped at the suddenness of it. The closeness. The other khajiit, Draj Kir was speaking, but it was about getting ahold of her sword, which could be literal as well as some strange sex metaphor. She forced herself to remain relaxed as she scanned the crowd. It did not take long to spot the culprit, a robed man with his features hidden in a deep hood. Was he working for the Forsworn, or the Silver Bloods? It was a risk blindly trusting someone she hadn't even met, and who chose to introduce themselves with some sort of spell. On the other hand, meeting with him, like a few of the others were, might be her way in. "The only way you're getting a hold of my 'sword' is if I stick you with it." She said, stepping past the male and sauntering over to the robed man. A female dark elf was challenging a breton knight, who'd just finished saying how he should lead the group, due to his greater experience. "Hey now, let's not get ahead of ourselves." She drawled, "I don't know who's in charge, and I don't care. I'm here for the bounty, not some team building experience."
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    Draj Kir couldn't help but chuckle at the womans' less than friendly response. Of course there was the chance that she was being entirely serious, in which case he'd be able to see just how well she wielded the blade she carried. Or perhaps he'd end up bleeding out onto the cold stone. Before he could come up with a proper rebuttal, she stalked past towards a growing group of people geared in much the same way he was. He thought back to the words he'd heard beside his head only a few moments ago. Only one of the people looked the part of a mage, and the khajiit mercenary was willing to bet his last septim that he was the one who'd 'summoned' him. That wasn't to say the bounty hunter was complaining. He was eager to get onto the road once more, and even more eager to get his reward.

    There did, however, seem to be some question as to who was going to lead them. The heavily armoured breton, or anyone else, apparently. He considered himself for a brief moment, but discarded that notion just as quickly. He was a good tracker and a better fighter, but he knew nothing about leading people. He assumed that they, like himself, was motivated by greed. Helping the miners was good too. "Perhaps we should not worry about leadership. The mines are not far off. Draj Kir wonders if we should not be moving while we discuss this. The silver bloods will surely be displeased to see us standing around."
     

    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Vorhaels' eyebrow shot up as he watched from his shadowed nook. The robed human had merely stepped to the center of the marketplace, and been swarmed by mercenaries and other, hero types. Or one very specific hero type that even from this distance, put the vampire on edge. The heavily armoured knight, with the warhammer and the shield with the symbol of Arkay etched into it. "A paladin, no doubt." The dunmer murmured to himself. That was a problem, and one that he had no real desire to encounter. The others he could fool into following his tune but a paladin would quickly wise up to his antics. His plans would need to be adjusted accordingly, if he wished to join with the group. It would be risky, no doubt. But Vorhael needed to leave the city, and joining up with a band of adventurers and mercenaries would allow him to blend in marvelously.

    He stepped into the sunlight, hissing as its' touch sunk into his flesh like needles. He wouldn't burst into flame but he was certainly not going to enjoy moving about during the day. That was a small price to pay, in exchange for admiration and acceptance from the mortal fools that made up the group. He studiously ignored the paladin as he approached, not wanting to draw the mans' attention to him before he was ready. Or at least, not until he'd made a few allies among the group. He kept near the edge of the group, and kept silent, even if he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the ongoing argument. He'd forgotten how much mortals enjoyed wasting their time on petty things, rather than focusing on the goal at hand. Perhaps a division among the ranks early on would make his work that much easier.
     

    Rell

    Champion of Malacath!
    The khajiit didn't answer his question. Didn't even meet his eyes. The old soldier grunted and shrugged "suit yourself then" he said, turning towards the inn. Maybe he had something against orcs, or legion types. Or, Balgur thought, maybe he was just nervous. He had the bearing of someone who was used to looking over their shoulder. Could be he thought that Balgur was a bounty hunter or assassin. He was sure not everyone who wore legion armor had been legionnaires. The orc was about to push into the tavern when a voice sounded next to his ear. Almost as if someone was suddenly standing at his shoulder. Balgur spun around, gripping his spear tightly. He didn't appreciate being snuck up on, and even less told what to do by people who did that rather than speak openly.

    But there was no one there. With his free hand, the old soldier reached up and scratched at his scarred face, wondering if he was going senile. He scanned the crowd carefully, and it didn't take him long to spot the group that stood out. A fairly large gathering of men and women, most obviously armed. A hooded fellow stood out to him- possibly a mage, and probably the one whose voice he'd heard. A spell, then. Shrugging at the still unresponsive khajiit, he marched over to the group, where they were discussing who should be leading them. The orc sighed, missing the structured discipline of the legion. For all its problems, at least Balgur had always known who was in charge.
     
    Emeric narrowed his eyes in irritation at the argument going on around him. The fools seemed more interested in finding a leader rather than seeing their quest completed. "Enough" he snapped, hooded head turning to glare at the assembled mercenaries and adventurers. "We have a task to complete, and we will all die if we cannot work together to see this through. I, for one, have no intention of dying." He turned for the gates, his robes flapping at his heels as he made his way through. Slowly, the others began to follow him, as he knew they would. The lure of gold and prestige was too much for them to resist.

    The mines were not far from the city, surprisingly enough. Or at least close enough to make Emeric wonder why the guards hadn't simply put a force together and marched down to retake them. Surely it would have saved the Silver-Bloods a large amount of coin. The warlock wondered why the Forsworn had chosen to remain in the mines at all. Surely they would know the Silver-Bloods wouldn't allow them to keep them. Did Forsworn even have a use for iron and gems? He had been under the impression that most of their weapons were extremely primitive, as was their armor. However, Emeric wasn't terribly interested in their reasoning. Completing this task would be his doorway to the jarls good graces.

    An hour of walking later, with the wind howling through the mountain passes and scraggly underbrush, they came upon the mine. Figures could be seen around the entrance, scantily clad in primitive armors, decorated with animal skulls. Forsworn, presumably. Emeric turned to the others "I am no strategist. I'll leave the details of the attack to the rest of you."
     

    Rell

    Champion of Malacath!
    Balgur made sure the straps of his shield were secure, listening to the robe man speak. The march to the area just outside the mines had been tense. Obviously nobody was happy to be forced into working together, but if they wanted to be paid, there was nothing for it. The old soldier hefted his spear and eyed up the forsworn sentries wandering around the mine entrance. "A frontal charge is a bad idea. Doesn't look like there's too many out there, but if even one gets a way, we'll have a hell of a fight digging them out." He looked towards the others "which of you can sneak up there and take them out quietly? The rest of us will need to wait back here until you give us the signal."
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    The mines were not a great distance from the city of stone. But the guards had refused to oust the forsworn themselves, and so it was left to Merric and his fellows. A dysfunctional group if ever there was one. Perhaps they would work together when blades were drawn, but at the moment, the imperial was seeing very little in terms of camaraderie. That could see them dead before the enemy did, if not remedied. Or perhaps they'd all turn on each other and wouldn't that be a disaster? But Merric was no leader, and he knew it. The hooded mage, if that's what he was, had done well to get them moving. But now that they were at the mines, another problem presented itself; how to get rid of the sentries without one of them warning the others.

    The orc in legion armour suggested some of their group sneak forwards and eliminate the guards. That too, was not without risk. If there were hidden sentries, or the ones in view were more perceptive than they looked....Merric gestured towards the dark haired bosmer woman. "I assume you're a fair shot with that bow of yours. You could cover us while some of the others creep up to the mine entrance." He glanced over to the khajiit trio. "It's worth an attempt, at least."
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    The group left the question of who would be leading them unanswered as they left Markarth behind and made for the mines that had been conquered by the forsworn rebels. The march was not long or dangerous, and Draj'Kir found his mind wandering. He didn't think the savages would put up much of a fight. There was a reason they lived out in the hills and caves after all. So why then, did the silver bloods want to hire a pack of mercenaries to clear the place out for them? It made little sense to him, but he was not paid to overthink things. The group came to a stop in sight of the invaded mines, and hunkered down as they formed a plan.

    The orc soldier was in favour of slipping up to the entrance and silencing the sentries. A fine plan, Draj'Kir thought, running his thumb along the blade of his axe. He did not mind the occasional battle, but fighting through tight confines against a horde of forsworn did not sound like the key to a long and happy life. One of the humans, an imperial if he was not mistaken, suggested that the elven woman cover a group as they snuck towards the mines. A good idea...except that the man was looking at Draj'Kir as he spoke. Typical human. Thinks every khajiit is as lightfooted as a wisp. "Do not look to this one. He is no expert at stealth."
     

    The_Lost_Foxtrot

    Luwd uf Shoduws
    Nagò tried to ignore the Legion armored orc as he aproached him, after the Whole scenario With the Thalmor and Blades most Legion left a bad taste in his mouth. He was a proud partiot of the Empire no mistake, but after the Emperor signed the White-Gold Concordat, the Kahjiit veteran lost some faith in the People ruling.

    He just kept looking Down at the stone ground or to the sides to Escape eye contact just to be sure, pulling the Hood a little more over his face. In the end it seemed his efforts paid off as the orc lost interest in him and decided to leave him be, but Nagò raised a brow in curioasity when the orc spun around as if someone had called out to him when clearly no one did before acting as if nothing had happened. That was when he felt a shiver run Down his spine, a quietbut Clear voice spoke to him as if he was standign up in his face.

    He turned his head towards a direction that the voice seemed come from, only to see a Group of armored men and women at the gates, seemingly lead by a robed and hodded figure, possibly a mage. Once he overheard that they would be marching to the Fosworn infested mines did he realize they were fellow merceneries of that Silverblood contract and heard a rather arrogant sounding voice try to claim leadership of the Group, when he saw the man in cuastion he let a small curse Escape under his breath, a damned Paladin no doupt, the armored Knight would most likely cut off his head if he found out he was a fugitive of the Thalmor and by exptend the Empire.

    The ex Blades member grabbed the hilt of his katana in a cautious manner and pushed himself from the wall he was leaning on and walked over to the pack, smoothly stepping into the crowd and followed them out of the great city and towards the wilderness of the Reach.

    The march itself didn't last long, as they were soon enough overlooking the entrance of the mines that they were suposed to clean up. As the more experianced members of their Company in strategy discussed the best way to start, Nagò gave the Cave entrance a calculating look, a small hum escaping him when the orc from earlier suggested that the Bosmer Archer covered their flanks while the most silent of them would sneak in and get rid of the first wave for the rest, while giving their resident Khajiit obvious looks. "While this one cannot speak for every of it's kind, we happen to be decent in stealth oporations, we can thin out the sentries for the rest. But we suggest that we wait to hit at either the crack of dawn when the guards are tired and drowsy from their watch or at night and observe their guard shifts first" Nagò suggested calmly, letting his experiance With ambushes and covert oporations step up for a moment, his eyes never leaving the mine.
     

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