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    AS88

    Well-Known Member
    Staff member
    Before Kjorvir had the chance to turn to collect his belongings and head to the Khajiit's door, two others hurried past, a young-looking Imperial and another Khajiit. They knocked on the door in turn, and spoke in hushed tones to the Nord who answered. Kjorvir stood his ground at the bar until the others had entered, and considered forgetting he'd even seen the note, but his attention had already been taken, and his inquisitive mind had to know more. The Nord walked past him and again they exchanged glances.

    He slung his pack over his shoulder, causing the candles to flicker slightly, and trudged down the corridor. Taking another glance in each direction, he decided not to knock, in case they would take the chance to hide something of import or value from him. Kjorvir imagined he knew better than to let two Khajiits and a pair of strangers get the jump on him. He leaned closer to the door as he wrapped his fingers around the handle, and heard hushed voices and the rustling of papers. He slowly nudged the door open and began to step inside..

    "Hello, Khajiit? I'm here about the note..."
     

    Why-So-Serious?

    It's a revolution... I suppose.
    "I believe he was talking to me..." Oriton said to himself as a Khajiit answered the Nord woman's question that had not been directed at him.

    Oriton took this in, letting that Khajiit stroll into the room with complete disregard for the man who had been there before him. Disrespect and arrogance were among his most hated things and this man had so far ticked both of the list. The Khajiit introduced himself, yet again ignoring the fact that Oriton had been there before him. This man will earn himself a katana in the back if he does not show some respect... Oriton ignored him for now however and moved over to the cat who had introduced himself as a mage from The College.


    "My name is Oriton," He said while bowing his head out of respect. "I came to hear more about the note left on the wall."
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    Elsa tensed as she caught a nord's eye. He had been watching her earlier by Zhar's door she was certain of it. As he approached the khajit's door she let her eyes look over him. He didn't appear to be the kind who would join this sort of expedition but she enjoyed being surprised in this sort of situation. She would keep an eye on him she decided.

    All three men who had been waiting at the door were inside now, no doubt being debriefed as she had been. For now she was content to enjoy the gentle music wafting through the air, the hot soup filling her with a comfort she often missed when travelling. Taking a long drink from the tankard of mead Elda had brought over for her she let her mind drift, her fingers absently playing over the worn leather of her bodice. The Legend of Gauldur. She could hardly believe the mage had found something as big as this. She felt as if she were falling into one of the stories her father used to tell her by the fire. From street rat to fabled hero. Laughing at the idea of her striding in with shining armour, a paragon of nordic bravery, she shook her head and had some more mead, all the while her eyes trained on the khajit's door.
     

    Sierra312

    Well-Known Member
    Having secured a room for the night and the promise of ale for his table, the Redguard chose a lone seat in the corner, deeper in the shadows than the rest, that he might avoid the uneasy gaze and unwanted attention of others, and to better observe the other patrons.

    Thanking the tavern girl who brought him his ale, he leaned back in his chair and took a swig. The bright eyes under his hood reflected the glimmer of firelight where his dull and battered armour did not, as he scanned the room, searching for other unusual individuals such as himself who might mark the promise of an adventure, but for the moment he only saw drunken and surly Nords, muttering to one another or already dead-eyed and deep in their cups. The lone Dunmer woman looked to be a bard, but he found it strange she would choose to ply her trade here, where so many of her kind were reviled and despised.

    "The courtesy of the City of Kings is somewhat lessened of late," he remarked to himself, not entirely in his head.

    Sanders roving gaze picked out a young Nordic woman fidgeting with her leathers, evidently lost in thought. She was readily distinguishable from the inns other patrons, who consisted, for the most part, of grizzled and bearded Nord men. His eyes lingered on the faint scar running from brow to cheek.
     

    MjolnirV

    xDoctor Bob
    Zhar watched unamused as the two strangers bickered with one another. And quite frankly Zhar did not appreciate Dar'Saie being so forthright with his desires but he expected no less from a thief. But he was surprised to see a Nord enter his room without knocking, this also did not sit well with him.

    "Everyone gather around so that I may explain my note." Zhar waited for the three to focus. "I am Zhar and I am planning an expedition into a newly discovered tomb. This tomb bears the markings of King Harald of the First Era and it is my theory that whomever is buried within may be connected to the Gauldur Legend. I strongly look forward to rewriting the history of Skyrim and I do not plan to meet failure. I am not a naïve mage either and I understand the dangers, if there are any, of a tomb that has been sealed away for thousands of years. This one wishes to hire a few assistants. There is no pay in the usual sense; instead you will take what you wish from the tomb, unless I deem it necessary to take it for myself. Do I make myself clear?"
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    The thief felt as if she was being watched. Shifting in her seat she looked up around the room, her eyes falling on a dark corner, shadows engulfing whoever sat there. She wondered for a moment if she was being watched by someone she had crossed in the past. Her fingers twitched, longing to curl protectively around the daggers she had concealed by her waist. Instead she continued her mead, now curious as to why she had caught the attention of a stranger.
     

    Sierra312

    Well-Known Member
    Seeing the woman flinch under his scrutiny, the knight returned his gaze to the tankard of ale set before him. He duly noted the Nords hands stir to reach for some concealed weapon, wondering whether it would be wise to approach one so easily discomfited by his quiet observance from the shadows, or if she would come to him, drawn by curiosity.​
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    Elsa continued her drink, the thought that was being watched never leaving her mind. Tapping a lulling rhythm out on the table she considered going over to the shadowy figure. It could be anyone, not necessarily a threat, and if it was then better she know about it now rather than wake up later with a knife in her gut.

    Seemingly decided on her new course of action she cast one last glance at Zhar's door before picking up her mead and casually making her way over to the table in the corner. Resting her weight on one foot she addressed the figure she could now see. Armour, that was certain. He could have been a hired thug but they never came alone, cowards. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I have a feeling you've been watching me. I'd like to know why." Her voice, usually teasing and sarcastic was now hard set, a challenge clearly hidden in her words. She did not like being watched, it very rarely led to good things.
     

    Sierra312

    Well-Known Member
    Sander was surprised when the woman made her way towards his table, and even more so at her brazen words; not many lone women in an unfriendly place would throw down a challenge so readily.

    Despite her temerity and the way she held herself, obviously a seasoned warrior, she raised to his mind the image of a slender doe startled at a forest pool, unsure of whether to buck or run. Perhaps it was her eyes. He had never seen such eyes; the deep green shade under heavy-foliaged trees, at once blazing with an emerald fire when the sun caught the shifting canopy of leaves.

    Startled from his reverie as her gaze wavered, he shifted forward into the firelight, although the hood draped over his face left most of it wreathed in shadow.

    "Forgive me, my lady, I had not meant to cause you any discomfort, nor harm. I merely observed that you were some way from fitting the norm of this dreary place," here he gestured towards the other occupants of the inn; grim, surly, weathered and brooding men, exchanging dull murmurs whilst hunched over their ale.

    "I thought perhaps your presence here marked some event out of the ordinary; apologies if I was mistaken and have given you reason to be fearful. It was never my intention."
     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    He was yet to reveal his face, though she couldn't fault him, she would have likely done the same thing. His words did catch her off guard however, and she wasn't certain she'd managed to hide the slight widening of her eyes. Looking around to the other patrons she shrugged one shoulder, ducking her head a little as she spoke. "Well, looks can be deceiving. If anything this tavern is a little nicer than my usual haunts." Feeling little more at ease she let herself smile a little, rubbing the back of her neck out of habit.

    Cocking her hip to the side she gestured to the Khajit's door. "I came here looking for work, there's a mage looking for help retrieving something, I offered my services, nothing special or out of the ordinary." Looking closely at his armour she continued, "So...what brings you here. You look just as out of place as I might do."
     

    AS88

    Well-Known Member
    Staff member
    The Khajiit mage had said his piece, introducing him self simply as Zhar. Hmm, no title.. Mused Kjorvir. He'd met Khajiit, and worked with them, to know that many of them hold their titles as a form of pride. This Zhar must have a past. The Nord's fingers twitched as he caught a light static off his sword's hilt.

    He went on to tell of a newly-discovered tomb, believed to be of relevance to the Gauldur Legend. Kjorvir's brow furrowed slightly; he believed the Gauldur Legend to have been discovered, and subsequently solved, by the Dragonborn years earlier. What really took the Nord by surprise though, was the Khajiit's last statement.

    There is no pay in the usual sense; instead you will take what you wish from the tomb, unless I deem it necessary to take it for myself.

    The other Khajiit, who looked to be some sort of over-confident thief, the one who usually dies first, turned and left after a brief acceptance of the terms. This left the young Imperial, Zhar and Kjorvir alone.

    "So, Khajiit, no gold eh? What makes you think I would want to lose myself in a millennia-old tomb full of traps and Draugr, without the promise of a barrell-full of Septims, huh? No doubt it will be, if you're right in believing a link with the Gauldur Legend. Not to mention I'd be travelling with two Khajiit, one of which looks particularly like the sort to slit my throat for no more than a sweetroll, or at least try. Not that I have anything against you, yet you can understand my wariness"

    Kjorvir realised the extent of his speech, and made a mental note not to drink quite so much before discussing business.
     

    Sierra312

    Well-Known Member
    The widening of her eyes again brought the image of a doe to the forefront of his mind. Then she spoke: "Well, looks can be deceiving. If anything this tavern is a little nicer than my usual haunts."

    She smiled a little as she said it, and he sensed he had put her mind to rest, although as she rubbed the back of her neck nervously he recalled what might be similar actions in a still wary animal.

    As she relaxed her hips she made mention of a conjurer, immediately piquing the knights interest. "So...what brings you here. You look just as out of place as I might do."

    "I had hoped to avoid unwanted attention," Sander replied. "The hospitality of Windhelm is not what it used to be. I merely sought some ale to quench my thirst, perhaps a bed for the night, and even some engaging company, although I did not think to find the latter." He again indicated the taverns less savoury patrons.

    "I am indeed fortunate to come upon all three." He spread his gloved hands, to further show he meant her no ill-will. "Sander, of House Frostfount, at you service."

     

    Aerin

    IOK's Token Brit
    She laughed a little at his words, grinning easily. "Engaging company hm? Well I wouldn't expect to find much here but there's always exceptions to every rule." Grabbing a nearby chair she dragged it to the table and sat down, drinking from her tankard.

    As he introduced himself she tipped her head. "Elsa the Fleet, at yours." Absently letting her fingers trace around the rim of the metal tankard in thought. "You didn't answer my question, not really. Not many people come to Windhelm unless they need to. Not exactly the most friendly city you know."
     

    MjolnirV

    xDoctor Bob
    Zhar watched as the thief left his room and he shook his head. Something about him stirred an uneasy feeling within Zhar. The thief must be watched.

    Zhar turned his attention to the Nord man who was questioning payment. "In my line of work material wealth only goes so far. Mages would rather find knowledge than gold. I'm certain the ancient Nords have buried some nice trinkets for you to sell. That is my offer. Take it or leave it."
    Zhar studied the Nord waiting for an answer. He kept his mind on the Imperial as well. He is a quiet one.
     

    Sierra312

    Well-Known Member
    Sander was somewhat taken aback by how easily a smile came to her features, dazzling him momentarily, although he tried not to show it. He was further surprised as she pulled up a chair and joined him; he had never found a stranger who warmed so quickly to his company. He supposed he had been charming, but that thought too bemused him.

    Deciding to endeavour to remain courteous and self-assured with his new-found drinking partner, he matched her with a gulp of ale, then watched as her slim fingers danced around the lip of her tankard. "Archers hands," he noted silently from the faint calluses and scarring inflicted by the bowstring.

    "You didn't answer my question, not really. Not many people come to Windhelm unless they need to. Not exactly the most friendly city you know."


    Her words roused him from his quiet observation, and he took another swig of ale, letting the eyes under the hood wander to her face again before answering.

    "It has been a long time since last I came to Windhelm. It had not fallen so low then. To my mind it's winters were never so harsh and unforgiving, nor it's people, as they are now."

    He drew back his furs and coifed half-helm, revealing the warm brown eyes and skin beneath, giving a wry smile.

     

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