18+ New Beginnings

[Gentleman Adventurer]

Avitus' new defender, whose race seemed ambiguous at the moment, placed one hand on his shoulder and the other beneath his chin. A jolt of pain shot through the theif as light pressure was applied to his broken jaw, but it soon turned to relief as a golden-green light spread out from the man's hands, healing his jaw and removing any trace of injury. He started to massage his mended jaw, testing it out, and once he was sure it wasn't going to break without another direct hit from a metal fist, he moved to thank his savior.

Sadly, the healer appeared to be dumber than he had let on, as he had tapped on the Imperial woman's shoulder and was now yelling at her. There was a brief flash of anger in her eyes, and for a second Avitus thought she was going to break this newcomer's jaw as well, but she must have been able to hold her anger back, as she proceeded to answer the man's question relatively calmly. He defended Avitus once again, verbally rather than physically this time, but the woman would have none of it. She looked to be preparing another, possibly more angry, response when she was interrupted by the Imperial man who had accompanied the Nord. He looked like a drunkard.

"I've got the perfect remedy to this situation. Sure, we may be enemies and at each others' throats now, but in an hour after taking this, we will all be the best of friends. So, moon sugar, anyone?"

Oh, so he wasn't a drunkard. He was a druggie. Much better. The Imperial woman, in an absurd act of ignorance, grabbed some from the bowl the addict was now offering to the group at large. Her inquiry about how to take it established that Khajiit drugs weren't a familiar area for her. Avitus smirked. He hoped she choked on the stuff.

What was shaping up be an entertaining little affair was interrupted yet again, this time by the arrival of the black-clad Breton, now followed by what must have been an exceptionally hairy Bosmer.

"Just what's going on here, and who are you people?"

Avitus decided not to answer that question. Introducing himself a second time would probably give him another broken jaw. Or worse.

 

[Rextoret]

Ciel decided it was time to get a move on. He opened his mouth to address the group. "I'd prefer we not waste time here. The sooner we arrive safely at Cheydinhal with our artifact, the better. So, put the moon sugar away. It's not necessary now. There'll be time enough for that later, if you decide to come along."

Ciel paused for a moment, before continuing. "As stated before, we're to retrieve and deliver an Ayleid artifact. This artifact happens to be located deep within the ruins of Vilverin. Normally, I'd get the artifact myself. However, word has it that a huge amount of undead have holed inside the ruins. Thus, I need the help of a few hired swords. You will be paid very well for your cooperation, coming from the pockets of the generous Relyn Telvayn. That," He stated, with a glance to the dwarf. "Is what is going on."

Ciel observed the group for a few moments, before pressing on. "These two fighters, Nike and Adidas, are already accompanying me in this endeavor." He shifted his gaze over to Avitus. "As for you, thief, you'll be coming with us. You do that, and I'll ensure that you stay alive. Whether or not you get paid in the end, depends on your usefulness." He looked over at the others, the druggie and dwarf in particular. "And for you two, you can come along if you feel up to the job. You'll be paid, of course."

He took a step back. "For anyone interested, meet me at The Tiber Septim Hotel at sunset. I'll pay for beds, then we'll set off for the ruins tomorrow morning." Ciel started walking towards the gates out of the Arena District, before turning around to face Nike and Adidas. "Keep your eyes on the thief, and make sure he gets to the hotel by sunset. If he resists, drag him there. You pay for anything you break on him." Turning, he gracefully walked out of the district. He headed straight for the hotel in the Talos Plaza District, where he sat at the bar and enjoyed a glass of wine while waiting for the sun to set.

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

The Breton stepped forward, putting an end to the chaos and explaining his situation. Amazingly, the entire 'group' stopped and listened, even the drunkard and the addict. (A little prodding was needed, of course.)

"As stated before, we're to deliver an Ayleid artifact. This artifact needs to be taken to Cheydinhal. Normally, I'd take the artifact there myself. However, word has it that a large amount of bandits have set up on the road there. Thus, I need the help of a few hired swords. You will be paid very well for your cooperation, coming from the pockets of the generous Relyn Telvayn. That is what is going on. These two fighters, Nike and Adidas, are already accompanying me in this endeavor." The Breton said, a slight air of smugness around his words. It probably wasn't intentional.

Avitus was intrigued. This man was offering a chance to earn some coin, and the way the Breton talked about this 'Relyn Telvayn' made it sound as though he was a very rich man. And since this was a trip to find an Ayleid artifact, that would almost certainly mean visiting some ruins. And ruins meant all sorts of extra treasure.

So in only a minute or two, the Breton had managed to give him a chance to make a ton of coin, and handed him the names of his latest enemies. Avitus decided that he was going to like this guy.

"As for you, thief, you'll be coming with us. You do that, and I'll ensure that you stay alive. Whether or not you get paid in the end, depends on your usefulness."

Avitus decided that he was going to hate this guy.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Nachael watched as the Imperial woman was pulled from the argument over the thief's fate by a seemingly random offer of moon sugar by an Imperial man. The dwarf was making more of a ruckus now, and at this point the Breton deigned to interrupt the chaotic encounter. "I'd prefer we not waste time here. The sooner we arrive safely at Cheydinhal with our artifact, the better. So, put the moon sugar away. It's not necessary now. There'll be time enough for that later, if you decide to come along."

Come along... where? Nachael didn't like the look of this obviously rich man, but even with his principles he was no fool; when a rich man offers for one to come along, it usually pays off. He continued, "As stated before, we're to retrieve and deliver an Ayleid artifact. This artifact happens to be located deep within the ruins of Vilverin. Normally, I'd get the artifact myself. However, word has it that a huge amount of undead have holed inside the ruins. Thus, I need the help of a few hired swords. You will be paid very well for your cooperation, coming from the pockets of the generous Relyn Telvayn."

Relyn Telvayn? I've heard that name before... Was it at the College? Also, he mentioned getting it himself; maybe there's more to this nobleman than meets the eye. As he mulled over all the Breton was saying, he picked up the name of the woman he had been speaking to; Nike. What a strange name, he thought.


"For anyone interested, meet me at The Tiber Septim Hotel at sunset. I'll pay for beds, then we'll set off for the ruins tomorrow morning." This followed the announcement that the would-be pickpocket was going along as a punishment; naturally, Nike would be watching him, so speaking with him again would be impossible that afternoon - his only chance would be at the Hotel. A bed in the Tiber Septim Hotel, paid for, is not too bad either... Nachael put up his hood and slipped away, deciding he would find Ferisa and inform her of the opportunity.

~~~

Ghrrrrrrrrr. Ghrrrrr. Thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump thumpthumpthump. Crack!

"Oh no... oh, oh n-OOOO!" Ferisa Berendas' whisper escalated into a shrill yell a second before she jumped from the falling tree she had climbed up. She grunted as she rolled from the grass up into a sprint, glancing back occasionally at the minotaur lord that was charging after her. The massive monster had surprised her just off the road. She had been exploring the Great Forest surrounding the Imperial City, finding Nachael's edict that she stay at the inn in the depths of the Market District unbearable to comply with. She had mostly listened for the past week while they had stayed in the City, of course walking around the Arboretum and Market - what harm could that do? "It could get you mugged or robbed," her brother had cautioned. He was well-meaning, but what he expected of her was silly; he had not minded her hunting in the far less forgiving wilds surrounding Winterhold, and yet here, in a lush new land, he wanted to keep her in! Maybe he had a little bit of a point, the hybrid woman considered during her spat with the minotaur.

Ferisa weaved between trees and rocks, vaulting over the occasional obstruction; she was skilled in her movements over the crunching leaves, trained by the mountains and forests all south of the College - of course, Nachael couldn't see that she was completely in control of the situation - and it would stay that way, damn it. He would be having a heart attack, even when I'm clearly doing fine! And yet, despite her absolute handle on things, she was growing tired while the minotaur would not.

The Imperial City was in sight, and she had to end this. But how...

Spotting a sharp dip in the landscape between a few trees, Ferisa put all her stamina into the dash for her saving grace. Adrenaline was pumping as she ran over the shaded hole, almost as if walking on air, and let gravity do the rest of the work. She slid down to the bottom and quickly scrambled up just below the edge of the dent in the earth. The minotaur was confused, its quarry having, to its feeble mind, vanished into thin air. It took a few thundering steps to the edge of the hole. Ferisa silently nocked an arrow, not daring to breathe but sure that the beast could hear her heartbeat anyway. The monster peered over the edge, and fwoop, thwack! She sunk an arrow vertically into one of the minotaur's eyes. The creature let out a gravelly screech in pain and stumbled forward, giving Ferisa an opening to sink her iron sword into its calf; this spurred it into even more of a frenzy, and it toppled into the miniature gully. All the while, Ferisa felt her stamina returning, courtesy of the enchantment on the blade given by Nachael.

It was late afternoon, and she knew that her brother would be returning from his daily search for employment or some opportunity to train himself, or both. She had to get back to the inn. Luckily, there was a road heading for the city nearby, and there was a carriage bouncing along the cobblestone road in its direction. The half-Redguard ran once more and hopped on the back.

The carriage had not been destined directly for the Imperial City, so Ferisa had to run the rest of the way to the gates, and from there had to hurry all the way back to the low-class inn in the Market District. Where she found Nachael sitting at a table inside, furrowing his brow. "Where were you?"

"I... I was..." Ferisa panted. "I was going... for a walk... and..."

Nachael found it odd that a simple walk would rob his sister of so much breath, but he was not concerned. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I've found something that could pay, offer me a chance to improve my skills, and give you a taste of that adventure you've been craving for so long!"

Ferisa cringed a little at Nachael's obliviousness to what she had been doing in her free time for as long as they had lived in Winterhold, but the offer of gold did resonate, not to mention that an adventure where she wouldn't have to worry about hiding from her brother would be a much-needed respite. "Where at?"

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"We are a group of travelers looking for some extra swords," The woman in armor replied, while some sort of strange conversation went on behind her, with people starting to use drugs. After a particularly crazy night in Skyrim, Gorim vowed never to use moon sugar again. That night ended up with his beard shaven, an event that's left it's scars. Though it's grown back now, he'll never forget the way he looked without his beard; a fat, pudgy little boy. "The pay is good... if you can fight, of course. If not, this isn't the group for you."

"If I can fight?!" Gorim spat, the memory of his naked, bare face making him somewhat angry. "You think you're tough, beating up some lowlife?" He said, gesturing towards the hooded man before letting out a belch. "These puppies were meant to fight!" He said with a chuckle, flexing his stubby little arms. "And for when things get reeaal nasty, I've got this bad boy," Gorim said with a grin as he brandished his battleaxe, it's handle cut in half so that he could wield the massive instrument of warfare.

Behind him, the Breton began to debrief the group. Gorim raised an eyebrow, maybe it'd be a good idea to travel with them and see where this led. He didn't have much else to do, he had wound up in the Imperial City after being kicked out of the Fighter's Guild for a record 20 minutes of service.

"For anyone interested, meet me at The Tiber Septim Hotel at sunset. I'll pay for beds, then we'll set off for the ruins tomorrow morning." Gorim gave a nod, leaning against his battleaxe. "Eh, what the Oblivion, why not?" He said, taking a step forward. "So, the Tiber Septim hotel? I'll try not to get us kicked out, heh, I promise."

 

[Farthlion]

"Keep your eyes on the thief, and make sure he gets to the hotel by sunset. If he resists, drag him there. You pay for anything you break on him."

Nike pocketed the moon sugar, deciding it was best to leave that experience for another time. Nodding at Ciel's words, Nike immediately confronted the thief. "You heard him. We're heading over now." She still didn't like Avitus, but Nike was never one to disobey a command. The Imperial took glance around and waited for Avitus to begin following her.

"Adidas... do you have any business you need to finish here?" The woman asked quickly, still staring at the thief. There was no way Avitus would be let out of her sight now.

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

"You heard him. We're heading over now."

There was a brief second where Avitus considered running. There was a good bit of space between him and the two mercenaries, and he was certainly the faster of the bunch. If he could find some way to get into the crowd and blend there... No. If there was one thing Avitus had learned as a thief, it was that anything that could go wrong probably would. He didn't fancy another broken jaw, so he started to walk towards Nike and Adidas, avoiding eye contact with either of them as he did.

It wasn't too horrible a punishment, he supposed. After all, he only had to spend a short time with the group. Come nightfall, he'd snatch their purses and be on his way.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"Wow... The Tiber Septim Hotel, all on someone else's coin!" Ferisa remarked as she and Nachael strode to the luxurious accommodation in the early evening's golden light. "Is food covered, too?"

"He didn't say," Nachael replied, as he saw the imposing marble structure across the plaza. His sister was far more impressed than he; to her, it was about the experience, and to him it was about the coin saved. The pair drew a few odd looks as they approached the door; their rough-looking gear was not the kind of thing one saw the patrons of the Tiber Septim Hotel wearing - not to mention their odd looks. Both drew different kinds of looks, of course. Ferisa looked beautiful and almost alien, with her pinkish hair, reddish skin, elegant elven face and desirable figure. Nachael, on the other hand, had a dark teal-brown skin tone and stern face, framed by curly black hair.

As they pushed the doors to the hotel open, Ferisa gasped slightly; she had never seen luxury like this. Candles threw a golden glow over the white stone walls, beautiful wood furnishings and red velvet trim that adorned everything. Behind a large wooden bar, a publican served the finest of drinks to the few early evening customers the inn had. A few more wealthy patrons sat eating fine meals across the spacious inn. The Breton leaned back against the bar on a barstool, watching for his hirelings to enter. Nachael and Ferisa approached him; the man clearly recognized Nachael, so he only waited for the potential employer to speak.

 

[Rextoret]

Ciel sipped the last of his wine, with his back leaned up against the bar. A substantial amount of time had passed, and he only hoped that at least some of them intended to come. He would have dreaded having to sneak through hordes of undead to get to the artifact. Thankfully, this thought was dispelled by the entrance of the healer from earlier, along with an unknown woman.

The two stopped in front of Ciel, waiting for him to speak. "Ah, I see you've come. And someone else with you? Does she also intend to accompany us?" Ciel put his glass down and stood up. He turned to Ferisa. "Ah, but I forget my manners. I am Ciel Dufont." He gave an elegant bow. "Might I ask your name, my lady?"

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"Ah, I see you've come. And someone else with you? Does she also intend to accompany us?"

"She does," Nachael answered for his sister. He didn't like this man already; not only was he rich, but he obviously was some kind of dandy who made women swoon for sport. The Breton was unfazed by Nachael's businesslike demeanor, and turned to Ferisa. "Ah, but I forget my manners. I am Ciel Dufont," he said with a bow that made Ferisa blush a little. "Might I ask your name, my lady?"

This caused further blushing on Ferisa's part; she wasn't naive, but she was idealistic, and a man putting on such a flourished show as this seemed like a nice respite from the brusqueness complete strangers could often display. Of course, it didn't matter that she blushed, because the color of the Red-elf's cheeks meant that the change was invisible. "Ferisa Berendas," she said with a smile. "I see you recognize my brother; he told me of how he heard your offer earlier."

While Ciel and Ferisa spoke, had Nachael moved around to the bar. "Hmm... Colovian Brandy, please," he said after a short moment of deliberation - he might not have another chance to enjoy such fine alcohol, and he wanted to make the most of the night spent at the hotel. With any luck, his and Ferisa's tab would be covered by Ciel along with the room, but if not, this job would hopefully help cover the cost after the mission. His short, fat brandy glass in hand, Nachael turned back to the pair who stood next to him. Their short conversation was evidently over, so Nachael interjected, "So, what's this artifact we're after?"

 

[Farthlion]

Nike watched as Avitus followed her before heading out. Adidas meanwhile had shaken his head in reply to her earlier question. She looked around one last time at her former home, savoring the sounds of metal hitting metal, the crowd roaring, and screams of agony within the arena. It was as good as home could possibly get.

The group made their way to the hotel through the market district. It was bustling with consumers and shopkeepers bargaining with each other in order to gain the upper-hand on a deal. Earlier, Nike had dropped off her dagger for repairs. It had been worn down from a particularly tiring night where she had been attempting to open up small locked chest in a bandit's hideout. Eventually the Imperial had been able to open the trunk up, but only after it had become bent and brittle.

Nike was nearing the shop, an Orc run establishment specializing in weaponry. Back in her arena days, she sometimes would come to the shop when the resources to repair or smith a weapon herself were limited. Out of all of her options in the market district, this shop was by far her favorite.

"Do you need anything for the journey, thief?" Nike asked. While the former champion had little tolerance for those who robbed others, she was not cruel to the point where she would pretend he did not exist. Ciel did say that Avitus was now her and Adidas's responsibility, and therefore she would assure that he was properly prepared for whatever crossed their path.

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

Avitus followed Nike and Adidas out of the Arena, and was somewhat surprised when they headed not for the path that would take them to the Talos Plaza District, but instead through the large wooden doors to the Market Distract. He had assumed, given their obvious dislike of him, that his current guards would simply drop him off at the Tiber Septim Hotel, perhaps locking him in a room there. They had to be a special kind of stupid to actually bring a known thief into a place filled with rich merchants.

The Market District was slightly less packed than the Arena District, but it still had a sizable amount of people wandering the streets, as well as several dozen guards. Needless to say, it was not an ideal place for Avitus to make an escape attempt. When it came down to it, he'd take a day or two of unpaid mercenary work over a stay in the Imperial City prison any day of the week.

Nike lead the group to a place that was familiar to Avitus: a popular Orcish blacksmith's shop that specialized in weapon crafting and repairs. The thief had visited it quite regularly during his tenure with the Thieves Guild, mainly as a scout for larger jobs that he didn't participate in. It's location, for whatever reason, was far less likely to be passed by Legion patrols.

As they neared the front door, Nike turned to face him. "Do you need anything for the journey, thief?" She asked, sounding more than a little weary. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out if she was serious. As he made sense of her query, it became clear to him that this wasn't an apology, but rather a precaution. If Avitus was to make himself useful, Nike didn't want him to die. In spite of himself, he gave the Imperial woman a little smirk. Even though he got caught, he was still going to end up spending her coin.

"Well, I think a dagger will be in order, given that I didn't bring mine along. Something lightweight, easily hidden." He paused for a moment, wondering if he should make his request just a bit more audacious. He decided he would. "And make sure it's Ebony," He said, his face betraying his satisfaction with himself.

Perhaps this job wasn't going to be as hellish as he thought.

 

[Aerin]

"Well you see, I'm only saying..."

"I can figure out just what you're saying elf." The word was spat out like some kind of filthy slur, as if her very nature was offensive to him.

Well not to be rude, but if asked about it, she would have said she found his odour to be quite offensive. But she didn't say anything, not just because it looked like she might get hit any moment now, but also because she had been brought up properly thank you very much, and she knew better than to insult a person three times her size.

"Yes. Well. I can see how you might take offence to what I said."

"My family has owned this store for generations, and you think you can just walk in here and tell me I'm doing my job wrong?"

"Incorrectly, you should have said. What you said doesn't make sense, semantically at least. Not that I'm suggesting you're stupid or anything."

At that the orcish smith leant forward just ever so slightly on the bench and his absurdly large fingers wrapped around a freshly sharpened axe.

"Get out of my shop elf."

"Right, of course. Terribly sorry sir, I never meant to..."

"Get. Out."

Vanya quickly backed out of the shop, her feet hardly moving fast enough as far as she was concerned. She did not like the way that blacksmith was eyeing her up like a sorely needed whetstone. Absently she wondered just what kind of person could get so easily upset over a person critiquing their technique. It was hardly professional Vanya reasoned. If someone thought they could give her a few pointers she would certainly be more than happy to hear their suggestions.

Barreling out of the shop the wood elf hardly had anytime to check where she was going as she made her hasty escape. Her feet seemed for a moment, to move of their own accord, twisting her legs under her body to continue their flight, only to be interrupted by a stone, or perhaps it was a loose pave stone. Whatever it was that she caught her toes on, it sent her skyward.

There is a moment often experienced by the clumsy and uncoordinated. Also those with wings, but in this context less so.

It's a moment where for just second the world falls silent. The body rushes through the air and feels free, untethered to the physical ties and forces that keep us grounded and upright. Closing her eyes for just that moment, Vanya let it wash over her, her pinwheeling arms and legs pausing, even as her knapsack emptied itself of her many scrolls and tomes. The handle of her much loved repair hammer, which had until now been rapping against her thigh hovered in the air, held still with the momentum of her ungainly flight.

And then, just as it had announced itself, the moment passed, and Vanya was thrust head first at the base of something very solid and painful. The hushed seconds of blissful flight fled, leaving a dishevelled and confused Vanya struggling to work out if she was upside down or not. There was a distinct throbbing in her right foot where she had struck the ground. It was the downside to not wearing shoes she supposed. Perhaps if she was to invest in a sturdy pair of boots...oh but then how would she climb? Then again the guards did become awfully vexed when they saw her climbing the few trees that there were in the Imperial City. Perhaps shoes were a good idea.

She would have continued her shambling train of thought had she not opened her eyes. She was on her back, that much was certain judging from the clouds she could make out peeking behind something dark and...looming.

Blinking a few times it seemed like the dark and looming thing was a person, a woman perhaps, though it was hard to judge the gender of an upside-down shadowy blob. The thought caused a queer laugh to bubble up and Vanya battled briefly to stifle her chuckle. Oh, did she have a concussion? Did people with concussions laugh a lot? That didn't seem right, but for some reason getting up seemed quite hard and laughing seemed incredibly easy.

Clearing her throat the elf took a moment to compose herself. People would think her quite odd for lying on the ground laughing at nothing like this. The looming figure was still there, joined by a second now. Was it proper to introduce herself now? If someone fell in her path she supposed she would want an introduction. Not simply out of curiosity, but out of concern.

Blinking owlishly she looked up with pitch black eyes and coughed. "Ah, so sorry for that. That was rude. I hoped I didn't, I didn't scuff your boots or anything. Not that my head would easily scuff boots I mean. If they are scuffed I could fix them, polish them that is. If you wanted. Which you probably don't. But if you did..." Vanya trailed off and licked her lips, attempting to slow her thoughts, or perhaps speed up her speech. Surely either would do. Instead she sat up, hopping to her feet rather spryly before looking about and making a downturned face at all her belonging spread about the walkway. "Oh no that won't do at all, no not at all." Quickly retrieving her items she stuffed them into her pack, slinging it haphazardly over her shoulder before turning to the shadowy blobs, which of course weren't blobs they were people, and she extended her hand.

"I'm not sure what the general protocol is, but hello, sorry for interrupting your walk with...with myself. I'll let you go on ahead now." She attempted her best friendly smile, but was aware it may have come across as more of a grimace as she hopped from one foot to the other, unsure as to which to favour. Both feet were quite sore and there was now a persistent pounding at the back of her head where it had hit the ground.

 

[Farthlion]

"Well, I think a dagger will be in order, given that I didn't bring mine along. Something lightweight, easily hidden. And make sure it's Ebony."

If Nike were of higher intelligence, she probably would have realized that Avitus was attempting to take advantage of the offer she had made. However, Nike was not very bright. "If you feel it is necessary, I will buy-" Something ran into her at that moment. While Nike continued to stand strong, whoever it was that had hit her immediately fallen to the ground upon impact. Looking down, she could see a Bosmer slowly standing up at the Imperial's feet, taking the time to compose herself before addressing Nike and the others.

"Ah, so sorry for that. That was rude. I hoped I didn't, I didn't scuff your boots or anything. Not that my head would easily scuff boots I mean. If they are scuffed I could fix them, polish them that is. If you wanted. Which you probably don't. But if you did..."

Wood elves were always interesting. While Nike had encountered few during her travels, they always seemed to have a unique way of being memorable characters. This one seemed to be no different. "I'm not sure what the general protocol is, but hello, sorry for interrupting your walk with...with myself. I'll let you go on ahead now."

Nike smiled calmly before placing a hand on the leaving elf's shoulder in order to gently stop her. She could tell that this Bosmer had been injured during the fall, and felt bad for being the reason that she was injured. No matter how hypocritical that was of an ex-arena fighter. "Hello, I'm Nike. Please allow me to help you... I have an acquaintance who could heal any injuries you've suffered from our collision." That half-Redguard seemed like a nice enough guy to be willing to heal her up...

 

[Aerin]

"Hello, I'm Nike. Please allow me to help you... I have an acquaintance who could heal any injuries you've suffered from our collision."

Vanya opened her mouth to speak but something caused her voice to catch in her throat. Shutting her mouth the elf made a frustrated growl in the back of her throat, her mind whirring as she did her best to sort through the various assorted questions that were trying to burst forth.

"Thank you."

The wood elf took a deep breath as if to hurtle into a verbose exclamation of gratitude only to halt again. Master Ardell had always said babbled worse than a brook during Rain's Hand. The reassuring weight of Nike's hands kept her in place, her toes wriggling all the same to try and retain the feeling in her feet.

"You have remarkably pretty eyes. And a sure grip too. Probably as you're a warrior. It's funny really, I've not met many warrior women since I left the woods. Not that I didn't think there were any mind you, I've heard plenty about them. I'd just never met one before. But you seem quite nice, not at all as intimidating as I would have imagined. Although, most people seem quite friendly when they're offering to help, it's just nice thing to do for people. I'm sure if you wanted to seem threatening...I'm only saying this because I hope I didn't offend you by suggesting you weren't scary, I'm sure you can be, oh hello!"

Vanya paused in her panicked speech as she saw the second shadowy blob step forward. Unlike Nike, he remained a bit shadowy, even as a pale strip of sunlight pouring through the buildings caught his shoulder. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself to you as well, I was a bit preoccupied you see. Not that that's a suitable excuse for bad manners, that's what Master Ardell always said. Master Ardell being the smith I trained under. You know, he could make the most beautiful carved bone swords. You've never seen anything like them I'm telling you. So intricate, but of course bone doesn't always make for the best blade so it was usually just the hilts." Absently Vanya had reached for the worn hammer hanging from a leather cord that was tied to her belt. "It's actually quite funny you see. I fix things. Though it seems I'm the one who needs fixing." The now thoroughly shaken elf seems to sway a little. "I really did hurt my head quite badly didn't I? Shame I can't give it a good tap with Balangua here and walk it off. Perhaps your healer friend might be a good person to see. I'm sure it's fine really, though everything is looking a little bit...a bit fuzzy." The elf seemed perplexed and more than a little annoyed that her vision might be going a bit off-kilter thanks to her fall.

 

[Delusional]

Alleras' shied away as his offer of moon sugar was denied. The Imperial woman who had taken a special interest in the sugar had taken the bowl of the substance from Alleras and stored it away, most likely saving it for a later time. The Imperial-Redguard smirked.

It appeared that the party would be traveling to an Ayleid ruin in search of a specific artifact. Alleras had never visited a ruin of the Ayleids before, and frankly, he did not care to do so. He was a caravan guard, not a dungeon delver.

Though... I haven't really explored too many dungeons... maybe this will be an enjoyable job. The others seem well enough... Alleras thought idly as the well-dressed Breton continued to explain the premise of the job.

Ah, so Adidas is his name... the one who wasn't much for conversation... and Nike is the woman who seems interested in the moon sugars. I will make note of that. Alleras smirked again. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so bad. Who knows? Killing a few hordes of undead may be fun.

The group began to disperse off into the crowds that surrounded the entrance of the Arena, shuffling off to tend to their own matters before meeting at the specified location, the Tiber Septim Hotel--a notion that surprised the Imperial-Redguard at first, before he remembered that their leader was a wealthy noble. Alleras followed suit, and lost himself in the crowd, heading off to pick up a few items before joining the others at the hotel.

---

That evening, Alleras found himself standing before the Tiber Septim Hotel and all of its extravagance. It was said to be the most expensive hotel in all of Cyrodiil--Alleras believed it. Only a few other people milled around the Talos Plaza at this hour; most of the residents of the city had retired to their own abodes to sup and settle in for the night.

After a moment of taking in the beauty of the building, Alleras approached the doors and slowly opened them, allowing himself inside. The interior of the the hotel was equally as luxurious as the marble exterior. The walls were draped in fine delicacies, and elegant rugs were laid across the floor. Alleras spotted his employer at the bar, along with the Redguard elf healer from before, and a second, new Redguard elf.

The Imperial strode across the room to meet his employer. He was engaged in a conversation with the female Redguard elf, so Alleras took a place next to the male at the bar and waited for the Breton to finish his conversation.

The barkeep looked at the Imperial who had just appeared, beckoning for an order. "Spiced wine, please." It was a favorite beverage of his, and such a fine establishment warranted his favorite drink.

While the barkeep turned to prepare the drink, Alleras turned to the man he had sat next to, the Redguard elf. He did not know his name, like many of the members of the group.

"So, you're here for the expedition, right? I'm Alleras." The Imperial extended a hand to accompany his greeting.

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"Well, isn't this just dandy," Gorim sarcastically remarked as he stepped into the Tiber Septim hotel, the Imperial City's premiere tavern. An illustrious facility normally reserved for the wealthy and noble. The dwarf drew some glares and confused looks as he made a beeline for the bar, his battered and worn boots tracking mud and dirt across the marble floor as he pushed his way through a group of noblemen. "Out of my way, you swishy milk drinkers." Gorim snapped as he blundered through, garnering even more dirty looks as he hopped up onto the bar counter.

He glanced around until he saw the Breton man from earlier, who didn't seem to have any trouble blending in with the patrons milling about. He was talking with three others, most likely looking to join in on the adventure. The dwarf hopped down and made his way over, "Well, this is quite the funeral home." Gorim remarked gruffly as he looked around, as far as taverns went, this was pretty glum, boring and dreary by Gorim's standards. "So, these must be some new recruits," Gorim said as he turned towards the three others. One of them was an Imperial, while the other two were a race that the dwarf couldn't quite make out. Gorim squinted his eyes and scratched his beard, trying to figure it out. "What are you two? Some sort of Elf?" It was at that moment that Gorim realized he hadn't introduced himself yet. "Name's Gorim, by the way."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"So, you're here for the expedition, right? I'm Alleras." Nachael turned to the man who was addressing him; it was the man who had offered the group moon sugar. Now that he was paying more attention, Nachael noticed that the man seemed to share some attributes of both an Imperial and a Redguard. Might as well get to know the people we'll be travelling with a little. "Nachael," he said simply before taking another drink of his brandy. Before they could speak any further, the short man from earlier pushed through a group of nobles and took a seat at the bar. "Well, this is quite the funeral home."

"So, these must be some new recruits," the man went on. "What are you two? Some sort of Elf? Name's Gorim, by the way." The man squinted as he looked over at Nachael and Ferisa. "Squinting won't help."

"Oh, we're half Redguard, half Dunmer," Ferisa said cheerily. Thanks for giving out so much information, Nachael thought. "I'm Ferisa. Nice to meet you," Ferisa said, unfazed by Nachael's exasperated look.

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

"Squinting won't help." Gorim continued to squint, still trying to size up the person in front of him. Then he grinned, appreciating the humor found in Nachael's sarcastic response. "Heh, you're funny for an Elf-looking feller."

"Oh, we're half Redguard, half Dunmer," The other half-Elf quipped, most likely the former's sister. "I'm Ferisa. Nice to meet you." Gorim gave off a disgruntled "hmph." He didn't particularly like Elves, and he especially didn't like magic, and judging by Nachael's choice of attire the half-Elf seemed to fit the bill for a mage. "Yeah well, I'm sure it'd be fascinating to get to know you two some more, but it's been about an hour since I've had a drink." Gorim turned his back, jumping onto the seat so that he could see above the counter. "Situation is pretty dire." He remarked sarcastically as the innkeeper arrived to take his order.

"Tell me you've got something strong, and none of that Colovian sheep piss you all seem to love so much." The innkeeper recoiled back, a look of repulsion crossing her face. Clearly, Gorim wasn't the usual customer at the Tiber Septim hotel. "Well, we have supplies of spiced wine, brandy and--" "Just bring your strongest stuff." Gorim interjected, and the woman swallowed nervously before rushing off.

Gorim glanced over at the male half Elf sitting next to him, "Think you can hold your liquor?"

 

[Farthlion]

The Bosmer continued to speak, rambling on about references to her past, and something about the fact that she fixed things. Nike was nearly tuned out when the odd elf finally finished, "I really did hurt my head quite badly didn't I? Shame I can't give it a good tap with Balangua here and walk it off. Perhaps your healer friend might be a good person to see. I'm sure it's fine really, though everything is looking a little bit...a bit fuzzy."

Nike nodded in reply, "I'm going to grab a few things I need from this stop. Wait here." She eyed Avitus as she gave this command.

She entered the building, not taking much time to converse with the Orc maintaining the shop. Upon seeing her, he immediately handed the Imperial her dagger - in newly repaired form.

"One ebony dagger, please," Nike requested.

"One thousand and twenty five septims," he growled. Nike's eyes widened at the hefty price. She had forgotten how expensive such high quality weapons were. Avitus was obviously taking advantage of her offer to purchase his weaponry. If he did make any money on the trip, she'd definitely request Ciel take each septim out of his payment and reward it to her. It wasn't that Nike was greedy, it was just that she believed the man had to earn the dagger.

Nike traded the gold for her weapon and repairs, and then headed back out. The Bosmer, Adidas, and Avitus were all still outside of the shop. The Imperial proudly presented the thief with his new dagger and smiled, "Let's head to the hotel then."

The group left the market district and soon arrived at the Tiber Septim Hotel. Its appearance alone certainly lived up to its grand reputation. It was by far the nicest and most elaborately decorated inn. Upon entering, Nike immediately located the bar and took a seat next to several of her would-be companions. She would wait for the Bosmer to arrive before confronting the elfish-looking Redguard.