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    Andre Marek

    You can run, but you'll only die tired...
    Lorkas rolled his eyes as the 'extraordinarily humble' dark elf and the Khajiit he had been talking to, shot thinly disguised insults at each other. The Khajiit, obviously irritated, headed outside while the elf walked over o the fireplace and began poking around in the ashes. He was beginning to get annoyed despite himself. Normally he wasn't one to get involved in the affairs of others but in this case, the thought of having to potentially rely on the others in the group made him lean toward advocating for cooperation.

    Wrapped up as he was he almost missed Argus' question. Lorkas glanced down at the faintly glowing gem and then back to Argus, noticing for the first time how the fellow Nord's eyes were almost glazed over as he stared at the gem, mesmerized. Lorkas very nearly dropped the gem into Argus's hand but something nagged at the back of his mind. He couldn't tell if the feeling was a result of paranoia or came from the decidedly nasty aura that the gemstone had. With a quick motion he wrapped the gem back in the leather and placed it into his satchel as he stepped towards the door. "Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to study it just a bit more. Thank you."

    With that, he stepped through the door, feeling slightly refreshed at being back in the morning sun while also more than a little perturbed at Argus's reaction to the gem. It had almost looked like he knew what it was. Lorkas wasn't sure if that was true but he figured that, being the only mage in the group, he should at least try to get a better grasp on the obviously magical gem.

    Outside he saw the Khajiit woman, head down and clutching at something around her neck while breathing deeply of the fresh air,
    "So I take it you're not a fan of the Dunmer hmm?" He said quietly, stepping up beside her.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    As the nord who had appointed himself the group spokesperson, effectively their leader, stepped inside with the tattooed and oddly clothed dunmer man, Ysane took a moment to discreetly examine each of the others. Most were strangers, that much was obvious in the way they glanced at each other, or positioned themselves so that they could keep an eye on one another. The khajiit woman and the breton man who had investigated the barn together, were different. Out of the entire group, they seemed the most cautious and while the khajiit woman seemed to do most of the talking, the breton looked ready to step between her and any member of the group, if needed. It did not make Ysane confident about their chances, if they had to fight.

    A group of people all looking out for their own interests in the midst of a battle would more than likely get most of the group killed. Or captured, considering that it was starting to look like they were after a band of slavers. Shuddering at the thought of being captured once more, she looked to the armour covered argonian. Out of all the mercenaries, he seemed the least likely to turn tail and run, should things go poorly. The skittish khajiit-breton pair were nearby, but they seemed caught up in their own thoughts, for the moment. Once in front of the argonian, she nodded, and introduced herself. "Good morning. I am Ysane. I could not help but notice you seem the type to remain calm under pressure. Or, perhaps I should say, you haven't been glaring daggers at half of this...strange group." She realized that she was included in the group, but had no illusions about how she must look. A pale skinned elf with her lower face concealed, who had kept to herself after quietly slinking after the others. She was surprised no one had accused her of being a vampire.
     

    Rell

    Champion of Malacath!
    Balgur followed the dark elf girl towards the perimeter of the farmstead, and glanced over at her question. "I was a soldier. For a few years, anyways." He shrugged, "they let me keep the armor after I retired, and it's good gear, so long as I take care of it. Anyone that wants to think of me as a target is welcome to. Keep in mind though, anyone who sees me as a target will probably see you as one too." The elf stopped and pointed out several marks in the cold ground. She wasn't wrong, he admitted, but seeing the proof that someone had been watching the place didn't put his mind at ease. He examined each area carefully, but he was no tracker, and it had rained the night before. He couldn't tell if they'd come from the direction of Dragonsbridge, or somewhere else. When he'd seen enough, he nodded to the dunmer and rejoined the others. "They were definitely watching the place. Never heard of bandits doing something like that before."
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    She heard a nordic accented voice to her left, "So I take it you're not a fan of the Dunmer hmm?" She glanced over to the nord wizard joining her and the rest of the group outside. "Not that one, anyways" she replied. How the dark elf managed to get under her skin so easily was something that bugged her to an irrational degree. Possibly because his last comment had struck a little too close to the truth. In her line of work, people generally didn't waste time getting to know one another, beyond a name real or otherwise. They also tended to keep to themselves. She had to look up to meet the nords' eye, "so what's your business here? Coin or altruism?" As an after thought, she added "I'm Kaliir." The conversation about who or what had snatched the farmers seemed ready to continue as the orc legionnaire rejoined the group outside. He mentioned that there had definitely been someone watching the farm, but that he hadn't ever heard of bandits doing that. "Bandits don't tend to think that far ahead. They just smash and grab. And never this close to a town."
     

    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    Sothas watched as Aylira lead the orc soldier away from the from the farmhouse and together the pair examined something at the edge of the farmstead, back the way they'd come. The big argonian shifted his weight, growing restless. It wasn't boredom that had him glancing around and fidgeting. The sun was already up, closer to mid morning than dawn. The farmers had been taken some time ago, and he knew the odds of finding them alive were slim to none. Of course, the more time they spent searching the immediate area, the less likely it became that a rescue attempt would succeed. He reminded himself to be patient; after all, without at least some clues, they wouldn't even know where to start looking.

    He noticed someone watching him, and recognized her as the elf that had slipped into the tavern shortly after the stormcloaks had left. Sothas had not met many high elves, but this one seemed unusually pale. At least, what little he could see, above the mask. She approached with the air of a stray cat, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of trouble. When she spoke, her voice was soft but not timid. "Good morning. I am Ysane. I could not help but notice you seem the type to remain calm under pressure. Or, perhaps I should say, you haven't been glaring daggers at half of this...strange group."

    He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble within his broad chest. "True, this group no doubt seems quite strange, but these are strange times." He jerked a thumb back towards the empty house. "After all, it is not everyday that people are dragged from their homes in the night, or simply disappear without a trace." Then he paused, remember he had not yet offered his own name, "forgive my rudeness. I am Sothas Abrium. My companion over there," he pointed towards Aylira, who was returning with the orc in tow, "is Aylira."

     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    Thoras smirked at the khajiit womans' back as she left the house. Argus was still staring at the odd gem in Lorkas hand, but the mage folded the stone back into a slim piece of leather, and placed it into his satchel before following the khajiit. The arcane hunter tilted his head ever so slightly, wondering what it was that had fascinated the other man so much. For an abandoned house, the place sure was giving up a lot of interesting items. He glanced down to the burnt, torn parchment in his hand. He approached the breton and Argus, holding it up. "I'm not sure what our wizard friend came across, but I'm willing to bet that this is somehow connected to it." He shrugged, "or I'm wrong, and this is just a suspiciously worded letter, that whoever lived here felt the need to destroy." He pressed the charred paper into Argus' hand and turned to the breton. "I don't believe we've had a chance to introduce ourselves. Thoras Lorian, at your service." He didn't bow, but he did extend his free hand.
     

    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Lorkas surprised him by wrapping the gem in a piece of leather before tucking it into the satchel at his side. The man mentioned he would be holding onto for a while longer before leaving the house. Argus was about to insist that he hand the stone over, but caught himself. He had no real authority over anyone in their group. So he kept his mouth shut, and worried quietly. Had the mage refused because he genuinely wanted to study it? Or had he sensed something about Argus' patron. Perhaps it was neither of those things, the nord told himself, perhaps Lorkas didn't quite trust him and was merely being cautious. Whatever the case, making a big fuss and demanding the gem wouldn't make him any friends and would almost certainly bring awkward questions.

    He was turning to leave the house and discuss their next move with the rest of the group outside when Thoras made his way over from the hearth. In his hand, he held a torn and slightly burnt piece of paper, which he explained that the letter was suspicious and possibly connected to the gem Lorkas had found. He took the parchment and glanced over it. Whoever had tried to destroy it had done a good job, but there were still some clues. Morthal, for instance. "We'll see what the others think, but I agree. By itself, it's a coincidence, but I think this and that gem Lorkas came across were left here by the same person." He handed the letter back and made his way outside.

    The elf and the mage were speaking quietly by the door, and almost everyone else was loosely grouped around the house. He looked to the big argonian, Sothas. "We found some...interesting clues inside" he reported quietly, "nothing solid, but it looks like we're headed to Morthal." The warlock had gone around the swamp of Hjaalmarch on his way to Dragonsbridge. He wasn't familiar with the town at the heart of the swamp, but he had heard strange things about the people there, years ago.
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    Merric stared at the dunmer in the odd robes, holding a glaive in one hand, and extending the other towards him. The elf introduced himself as Thoras Lorian, a name was rather unique among the grey skinned people. Or atleast, he assumed it was. Merric had met a only a handful of dark elves in his travels after being fished out of the sea. Perhaps he had known a few in previous years. Perhaps this dunmer knew him and was trying to determine how much Merric remembered of his past life. That thought alone made the imperial hesitate, but just for a moment. He clasped the elfs' hand, and said "I'm Merric. You certainly have an..." he eyed the mans' clothes, so sharply contrasting the deadly weapon in his hand, "interesting way of outfitting yourself."

    Outside, he heard a commotion. He wondered if the tension he had noticed before, at the inn, had finally grown into violence, or if something else was afoot. With a glance to his new acquaintance, and one last look around the house, he made his way outside. It was not, it turned out, the group fighting among themselves. A group of mixed guardsmen and stormcloak soldiers were marching up the road. A dozen or so, including the foul-tempered captain at the head of the column. If anything, the man seemed even less pleased to be seeing the mixed party again. "Well?" He barked, "have you found anything, or have you been too busy looting the place?" He scowled at the non-humans in particular, as if he had expected them to be carrying bundles of farmers' belongings.

    He looked from the nord mage to the man who'd introduced himself as Argus, as if expecting an immediate answer from either of them. As he spoke, the stormcloaks and guardsmen spread out in a semi-circle. Many of them had hands on weapons, as if they were expecting trouble. Or hoping for trouble. Merric casually crossed his arms low, near his waist. Not in a threatening manner, but close enough that he could draw his blade at the first sign of trouble.
     

    Harkatti

    Sorceress Supreme!
    Zarr wasn't saying much, but she was listening to every word with a keen interest. At first, she had been certain that this would be a simple job, hunting down some bandits, finding lost villagers, and getting a little anonymity before finding the quickest route out of Skyrim. With Dren, of course. Now, though, there seemed to be some hidden motives as to why these farmers in particular had been targeted. She was no stranger to thievery, and knew that a horse would fetch a nice price. Killing a horse, as she had thought, and the others pointed out, made little sense. She did not like when things didn't make sense, and she was starting to wonder if she should just back out. Dren had pointed out that the mercenaries they'd fallen in with were just that-mercenaries. There was no promise they wouldn't turn her and Dren over as soon as it came out that they were wanted fugitives.

    Their leader, or spokesperson, or whatever the nord named Argus called himself, was speaking with several of the others near the entrance to the house. Her keen khajiit ears picked up the word 'Morthal'. She wasn't familiar with the place, but she wasn't sure what it had to do with their investigation here. She was about to ask when she heard something else. Something else caught her attention; the tramp of armoured feet on frozen earth. The clank of weapons in their sheathes. Someone was coming. A great many someones, if her ears didn't disturb her.

    Soon, they came into view, a column of at least twelve stormcloaks and local guards. She recognized the same captain from the tavern, glaring in their direction. Hissing softly, the khajiit slipped to the rear of the group, trying to make herself as inconpicuous as possible. The stormcloaks might not know that she and her breton friend were wanted, but she didn't think they would need a reason to throw a khajiit in jail.
     

    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    Sothas lifted his face to the late autumn sun, willing its' rays to warm his scales. He had been from the warmest to the coldest parts of Cyrodiil, but he was still surprised at the sheer chill of the former province. Instead of warmth, a freezing breeze that he felt even beneath his natural armour. Sighing, he lowered his head and caught Aylira smirking at him and the elven woman standing nearby. He was about to ask whether she was from Alinor or elsewhere in the somerset isles when he heard noise from inside the house. He saw Argus, Thoras, and the imperial man stepping outside to join the rest of the group. Argus mentioned finding some clues, and heading towards Morthal. That gave Sothas some satisfaction. It wasn't much of a lead, but at least it was something.

    No sooner had Argus finished speaking,than Ayliras' head snapped around, head cocked in a sign that she had heard something coming from the town. It was not long before Sothas heard them as well. Whoever it was, they were not trying to be stealthy. A few moments after that, a mixed group of town guard and soldiers came up the path Sothas and the others had taken about an hour ago. The same unpleasant captain from before leading them. He gave the group a once over, then immediately began barking questions while his men spread out around him. Blocking the way back into town, the big argonian couldn't help but notice.

    He was focused on the captain, and so it came as a surprise when Aylira tugged on his wrist. He glanced down at her, but the woman wasn't looking at the soldiers. She caught his eye, then nodded very slightly in the khajiit womans' direction. The smaller of the two, the petite female was backing away, trying to keep as many of the group as possible between herself and the stormcloaks.

    Sothas understood his friends intention immediately. While Aylira crossed her arms and glowered at the nearest guardsmen, the heavily armoured Sothas took two long steps to the side, placing himself squarely between the khajiit and a pair of nords. Neither of them were as tall as the nord mage that had joined their group. The top of their helmets reached Sothas' chin, and they had to crane their necks to scowl up at him. For his part, Sothas looked down and smiled politely. Of course, on a hulking lizardman with a mouthful of pointed teeth, it seemed more threat display than anything else. One of the guards took a cautious step back, while the others' hand went to his sword hilt. "Good morning" he rumbled down at them.
     

    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    He had barely finished mentioning Morthal when a familiar and definitely unpleasant stormcloak captain came into view. A dozen of his comrades followed close behind and began spreading out, facing off against the group. The captain clearly had lost any sense of kinship he'd had in the four shields. "Well?" He barked, "have you found anything, or have you been too busy looting the place?" Argus shot Thoras and Lorkas warning glances. The captain wasn't an enemy of theirs, but handing over whatever evidence to someone who clearly didn't like them was a poor choice. "We're not looters, captain. We were hired to investigate the disappearances of these farmers. Doing it properly is going to take time."

    The man scowled at Argus, as if he hadn't expected another nord to challenge him so boldly. A couple of the local guardsman nodded in agreement, but the stormcloaks, those who had open faced helms anyways, watched stonily. Something was wrong. "You brought a lot of men just to check up on us." The captain pointed over his shoulder, back towards town. "We've had complaints. Your...companions are making the locals nervous. I'm here to let you know you aren't welcome back in town."

    Argus recalled the semi-torched note Thoras had handed him. Was this the same captain mentioned in the note? If so, who had he guaranteed safe passage to? Forcing a smile, he said "not to worry. The evidence points towards Morthal. We were just about to head that way." An ugly smile, one that told Argus that the man was no more a friend of the group than he was a skeever. "Morthal, eh? I'd be careful going through the swamps of that place. But if you get there in one piece, you'll be their problem, not mine. Off you go." He nodded in the general direction of the swamps. Argus turned to his companions, aware of the stormcloaks' gazes burning into his back, "let's get moving. I don't fancy stumbling through a swamp in the dark."
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    Thoras chuckled at the imperials' observance. "It's better to dress draw the eye to yourself, and appear harmless, than it is to draw the eye to yourself and appear a threat. Or something like that." The elf stepped out of the house behind Merric and his brows lifted at the line of nords barring the road back to Dragonsbridge. "Quite the reception" he murmured, "and we haven't even done anything yet." He wasn't blind to the tension among the group, as they either stepped forwards or slipped back, out of eyesight. For more than a few moments, it looked like there would be bloodshed. Then Argus stepped forward, still playing the part of spokesman, and talked with the stormcloak captain for a few moments. The exchange was tense, but nobody pulled a weapon. At the end of it, Argus announced they should head out to Morthal, and Thoras fell in line, ready to leave the suspicious townsfolk and unpleasant captain behind.
     

    Rafen

    Well-Known Member
    Dren watched the confrontation between the stormcloak captain and the nord, Argus, and felt the tension in his sword arm. Argus pointed out that the captain had brought a rather large group, just to 'check up on them'. A group, Dren thought, that might be able to overwhelm them if they weren't careful. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Zarr edging backwards, even more on edge than he was. He was about to head over to her and offer support, when the big argonian took two long steps to the side. Now he was fully between a pair of nords and Zarr. The argonian looked down and said something, but was too far away for Dren to hear. A few moments later, Argus called for the group to start moving, headed towards Morthal. As the others made ready to move, Dren caught up to the argonian and said "I saw what you did at the farmhouse. You have my thanks."
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    Merric chuckled at the dark elfs' explanation "I must admit, I've never heard that phrase. If you don't mind my asking, where are you from, exactly? Your name is...an unusual one." As the mismatched group of adventurers and mercenaries began to move, leaving Dragonsbridge behind, Merric glanced over his shoulder, and noticed the Stormcloak captain speaking quietly to one of his subordinates. The man nodded once then set off back towards the town.The imperial couldn't help but feel like they would be seeing the captain again before their task was done. For a moment he wondered if he had ordered some of his fellow stormcloaks to follow them to Morthal, to keep an eye on them if nothing else, but dismissed the idea. He recalled the man had seemed almost amused by the idea of the group making their way to the city. That in itself was curious, since the group had been hired to track down the missing people, but there was no point in pestering the soldiers further. They hadn't made a secret of their dislike of non nords.
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    Thoras chuckled himself, hiding his sudden suspicion behind it. The man didn't seem a mage, and the one nord that was obviously a user of the arcane seemed decent enough. But prying questions were rarely asked by the those with good intentions. The hypocrisy was not lost on the dunmer, who'd started asking such questions the moment he stepped inside the tavern. "Oh, I'm from all over, really. Never stayed in one place for very long. Some might say I'm a bit of a nomad." He followed Merrics' gaze as he looked over his shoulder to see the the nords speaking among themselves. One turned and headed back towards town, while the captain and his men made sure to watch the departure of Thoras and the others. That was certainly interesting all by itself. The captain had seemed...amused, if not happy that they were leaving Dragonsbrige behind, but it seemed he wasn't quite content to leave them be. Or perhaps he just wanted to be sure they weren't planning any trouble before they reached Morthal.
     

    Rell

    Champion of Malacath!
    Balgurs' soldiers instincts were put on edge the instant the stormcloaks showed up. The nasty smile the captain wore did very little to put his mind at ease. The captain had made it clear from the start that he didn't like non-nords very much. He obviously cared for non-humans even less, if the expression on his face was any indication. During his years in the legion, he had fought many stormcloaks. He'd also spoken to quite a few after the war. They'd all been proud, stubborn people, but not racist. Or none of those he'd met had been. This captain, and if the expression on the faces of his men were any indicator, were a whole different breed of nord. He was glad to be leaving Dragonsbridge, and was disciplined enough to not tell the 'captain' exactly what he thought of his attitude.

    The strange group began moving out, and Balgur found himself behind the robed elf and the quiet imperial. He managed to catch the end of the elfs' answer to a question. A definitely evasive answer. "You're avoiding the question" he pointed out. It was really none of his business where someone came from or what they'd done before. On the other hand, it was good to know who he was working with. Especially if it ended up leading to trouble.
     

    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    Sothas held the stormcloaks gave until the others had moved past, headed away from Dragonsbridge and the assembled guardsmen and soldiers. Then he turned and followed Argus and the others without a backwards glance. He wanted to hear more about what Argus and the others that had found inside the abandoned house. Before he could catch up to the nord, the breton, the one who'd been keeping close to the khajiit since the first time Sothas had seen them, caught up to him. "I saw what you did at the farmhouse. You have my thanks." The argonian smiled at him, more puzzled than sincere. He hadn't stepped in to impress anyone or to garner gratitude. Certainly not from the breton, "I didn't do it for you" he said simply before lengthening his pace to catch Argus "You mentioned finding interesting things in that farmhouse. Do they all lead to Morthal?" While Sothas picked up the pace, Aylira hung back, near the imperial man, the orc, and the other dunmer of the group. The orc soldier butted into the conversation the elf and the imperial were having, accusing the dark elf of avoiding questions. "Speaking of questions, " Aylira said, "do you have a name, or should I just call you 'soldier?"
     

    Andre Marek

    You can run, but you'll only die tired...
    Lorkas smiled at the Khajiits question as he joined the others to leave, "If I'm being honest, it's a bit of both. These people are in need of help and I like to think I can. But I also like travel. And travel requires coin. A saying about stones and birds comes to mind." He glanced towards the group of guards, headed by the Captain for Dragons Bridge.

    As they walked by the group of soldiers, Lorkas became aware of a slight vibration against his thigh. Almost absentmindedly, he slipped a hand into his satchel and felt around for whatever was causing it. It took only a moment for his hand to close around the gemstone from the house. It was warm to the touch and pulsing intermittently. For a moment he was worried, fearing that some spell had activated and he was about to burst into flames at any second. However, he quickly figured out that whatever was happening, he wasn't in any immediate danger. Whatever the stone was doing, it felt as if it was reacting to something; and not himself.

    Lorkas Glanced around, looking for something that might have caused the sudden change in the stone. His eyes passed over the property twice, entirely skipping past the group of soldiers before he finally put it together. I may have been simple happenstance but he would have sworn that the pulses started when the soldiers arrived. He eyed each of the men in succession, looking for anything suspicious. He eventually settled on the Captain. The man wasn't doing anything that Lorkas could see, other than glaring at each member of the group but Lorkas had a sneaking suspicion that the man was hiding something.

    He tried to look like he wasn't obviously staring at the soldiers as he and Kaliir walked past them. Once by the group, Lorkas pulled up his hood and said to the woman,
    "You know, I think we should watch our backs on our way to Morthal." He gave the slightest nod towards the Stormcloaks.
     

    Harkatti

    Sorceress Supreme!
    Zarr was as surprised as anyone when the big argonian stepped between her and the pair of soldiers eyeing her with barely concealed hostility. The rest of the group started moving again soon after, headed towards Morthal, apparently. Most of the others were in conversation as they walked, and she felt some of the tension leaving her body. The further they got from the stormcloaks and their unpleasant captain, the happier she would be. She caught side of Dren and the argonian talking and made her way up to them in time to hear the argonian bluntly tell Dren that he hadn't helped for the bretons' sake. "Then why did you do it?" She asked, "I'm grateful, but very few people stick their necks out for complete strangers, I've found."
     

    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    Sothas had barely made it another thirty paces before the khajiit he'd obscured joined the breton. Normally, he would have been surprised at someone asking after his motives, but she raised a good point. He didn't know her- didn't know any of the people he was traveling with, in fact. Of course, he'd never let something like that stop him from lending a helping hand, despite Ayliras' protests. "Perhaps I don't like thugs who try to intimidate people who've done nothing to warrant it. I like racist thugs even less." That much was true; he'd never judged someone based on their race, and he'd never put up with those who presumed to do just that. There was something that was bugging him though; out of all of them, the khajiit woman had reacted the most visibly to the appearance of the soldiers. Was there history there, or just a general distrust of stormcloaks? "I have to ask, though- do either of you have any history the rest of us should know about? Something that might cause some trouble for the rest of us down the road."
     

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