Open Becoming Free

[The OP3RaT0R]

Hrolmir polished the ancient oak bar firmly, moving his hand with the grain, and bringing out the wood's shine. This bar had seen a lot in its day - it would see more yet, if Hrolmir had anything to say about it. His friends, old and new, would be arriving soon. The note had had ample time to disseminate, and those who accepted the responsibility of thinking would respond to it. It had said:

"We live in an age when consistency and virtue are frowned upon, and things are seen as relative, non-concrete, and worst of all, without purpose. To some, the spur of the moment is all that is important. For them, avoiding death is the same as living. If you understand what you have read so far, you know that it is not.

If you suspect men are still good; if you believe men are still great; and if you know that men are better than the ones that are the majority today, come to the Strong Man's Relief on the 17th of Last Seed, outside of Whiterun. We will return Skyrim to the virtues of honesty, dedication, intelect, and strength. The Jarls and the beggars hate us, and yet they wish to ride upon our backs. We will shrug."

Hrolmir finished cleaning the bar and walked up the steps in the back of the tavern to the second floor, which held the inn's rooms. Across the hall, he came to the door which opened out to the outdoor balcony seating. Wilhelm was sitting at a table up against the wooden rail built around the perimeter of the balcony. He was with Katarina, his young love interest. They were talking and looking out at Whiterun, behind which the sun was just beginning to wane. Katarina was doing most of the talking, as usual; Wilhelm was listening with rapt attention, as he often did around her. She was the only person who could get through to Wilhelm's mind, and Hrolmir thanked the gods for that. She was an unusual girl, for her day. She used her mind.

Hrolmir looked past the two young adults at the road leading to the Strong Man's Relief, and saw a yellow-clad figure approaching on horseback. He ineptly galloped up to the edge of the property, and, stepping over the line, called out, "Hrolmir! The Jarl demands your taxes! You have resisted long enough!"

Walking to the edge of the balcony, Hrolmir yelled back, "What do I 'owe' your Jarl?"

"Uh, the property tax, your dues to the Jarl, the tax for the Divines-"

Hrolmir cut in, "I owe you nothing. Your property tax; did I purchase my land for your Jarl? The Jarl's 'dues;' can he rightly demand that I pay him for no value in return, let alone for his efforts to drive me to ruin? And do not say anything of 'duty!' And your alleged tax 'for the Divines;' if your Jarl didn't spend that extorted money on himself, and actually offered it to the Divines, they would come down from Aetherius and spit in his face! Now, get off of my property!"

"You would do well to pay..."

"And you would do well to leave." With that, Hrolmir sent a fireball flying past the guard and said, "The next one will hit you."

The guard left, shaking his head. Wilhelm looked to Hrolmir uneasily, and said "Grandfather, they're going to keep coming. You can afford to pay, you know."

Katarina chimed in, "My father said that there are rumors that the Jarl is going to have his men come in and take the taxes if you don't pay soon."

"Your intentions are good; but I would not pay a highwayman if he gave me the choice of my money or my life. This is the same. One's life is not a bargaining chip. When they ask for taxes, the wish for me to not only be the victim of robbery, but to call it lawful. I will not give them my sanction. And if they come at me with force, I will respond in kind - except I have my mind at my disposal."

"Well, whatever happens, my father says that if the order is given to raid this place, he will quit."

"I appreciate that, Katarina. But I don't know why he doesn't just come work for me already; he would be making more money, working fewer hours..."

"Yes, but if he quit now, there wouldn't be a fair guard left in the city."

"That's true. Come, you two, we're going to be having a gathering downstairs."

Wilhelm and Katarina headed inside, but Hrolmir stayed outside for a moment. He looked out at the sunset, felt the warm breeze blow across the tundra, and knew that that evening would be the start of the return of truth to its rightful place in the world.

 

[Aerin]

The thief stopped under a bridge crossing the White River. Wincing as she crawled under the heavy stones to a dry patch of earth she cursed Nocturnal for her bad fortune. "Oh, you are a truly capricious prince are you not? And just when everything had been going so well." Scoffing at the situation she found herself in, Elsa pulled out the remainder of wine she had in her pack and pulled her cloak away from her side. Pouring the burning liquid over her wound the nord gritted her teeth and began to look for a bandage of some kind. She was dangerously low on healing potions after an incident with a bandit troop and she knew she couldn't waste her store until she had a chance to replenish her pack.

Hearing the familiar sound of patrolling guards she closed her eyes, pressing her lithe body against the underbelly of the bridge and waited for the sounds of horses hooves to pass before unfolding the note she had tucked under her quiver's strap.

"We live in an age when consistency and virtue are frowned upon, and things are seen as relative, non-concrete, and worst of all, without purpose. To some, the spur of the moment is all that is important. For them, avoiding death is the same as living. If you understand what you have read so far, you know that it is not.

If you suspect men are still good; if you believe men are still great; and if you know that men are better than the ones that are the majority today, come to the Strong Man's Relief on the 17th of Last Seed, outside of Whiterun. We will return Skyrim to the virtues of honesty, dedication, intelect, and strength. The Jarls and the beggars hate us, and yet they wish to ride upon our backs. We will shrug."

Raising an eyebrow Elsa yet again wondered if this was a wise choice. The Jarls were greedy, fat, never working a day for the septims which rolled into their stuffed treasuries. People like Elsa had to fight tooth and nail for what little piece of Tamriel they had. Her luck was running bad. The guards were no longer lazy, the beggars no longer to be trusted. Even the shopkeepers and merchants were on their guard, a white knuckled grip on their belongings and coin. If this note was to be true there were those who wished to restore Skyrim to its former glory. Back in the days of dragons and warriors, when the nobles pockets were plump with treasures, the merchants locks easily picked and the shadows the shade of pitch.

Elsa knew that if she were to carry with her life in the only manner she knew, she would have to play the hero. Allying herself with those who yearned for the golden days would do just that. The irony of doing good in order to maintain an otherwise villainous lifestyle was not lost on her and she wondered what her father would have said had he been there when she made her choice to respond to the note she had found tacked on the post of a fisherman's door.

Sniffing against the cold that bit at her nose Elsa rubbed her hands together for warmth and threw the now empty bottle of wine into the the undergrowth, uncaring as to where it landed. Crawling from under the bridge she adjusted her pack, quiver and Ulfvindr and quickly assessed the road. In the gloomy dusk Elsa made her way forward, enjoying the cool embrace of the evening. The tavern she was heading to glowed softly on the horizon. She was not far and she felt the familiar feeling of excitement and intrigue settle in her stomach and fingers. Pulling her hood lower over her brow, the nord lightly hopped up the steps leading to the balcony, notice in hand as she let her fingers briefly settle over the door's latch before walking into the lazy glow of the hearthfire.

Three people. A old man, a younger and a girl. Elsa nodded the the young couple before looking to the man she assumed was the sender of the notice. Placing the worn and crumpled parchment on the bar she gently pressed it out, attempting to iron the wrinkles with her gloved hand. "I hope I'm not late. My journey has been troublesome and I had hoped to arrive before shadow fell."

 

[blue 468]

The last mercenary fell, an arrow protruding from his neck. Arannir thought to himself how troublesome these mercenaries were getting the Jarl of Falkreath had been trying to kill him since his last "hunting" trip witch resulted in an arrow in the Jarl's thigh. Arannir took the note out of his pocket reading it once again.

If you suspect men are still good; if you believe men are still great; and if you know that men are better than the ones that are the majority today, come to the Strong Man's Relief on the 17th of Last Seed, outside of Whiterun. We will return Skyrim to the virtues of honesty, dedication, intelect, and strength. The Jarls and the beggars hate us, and yet they wish to ride upon our backs. We will shrug."

He did think there was still a chance for Skyrim to return to the way it was, for he was one of the few who remembered it when there wasn't crime and poverty running the streets unchecked. He sighed trying to shake the distant memories away and continued on to Strong man's relief.

The Inn looked nice and warm but that's not what mattered, Arannir he had grown use to the constant bit of the frozen tundra, he was here for business. Arannir opened the door and stepped inside there were four people one of witch looked like she just got here. Holding up his torn note "Hope I'm at the right place."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

A young Nord woman walked through the door to the Strong Man's Relief, placed her note on the bar, and said, "I hope I'm not late. My journey has been troublesome and I had hoped to arrive before shadow fell."

Hrolmir smiled as he removed his steel gauntlets and placed them on the bar. Extending his hand, he spoke. "I'm Hrolmir, and I sent that note. This is Wilhelm," he said, pointing to his grandson, "And this is Katarina. You're a bit early, actually. A few more people should be arriving soon. Feel free to take a seat. You are...?"

Before the woman could answer, a Bosmer, looking aged and yet strong, walked in and said, "Hope I'm at the right place."

"You are. As I was just telling this young lady, I am Hrolmir, owner of this inn and sender of the note you no doubt are here about. These are Wilhelm and Katarina."

While he awaited the names of his two guests, Hrolmir scanned them both. Over all his years on Mundus, Hrolmir had learned how to read people. The Bosmer looked disciplined and knowledgeable - Hrolmir knew he would like this one - but the Nord woman was a bit harder to read. She was skilled and she knew it, by the looks of her, but something was off. However, Hrolmir would let her show herself to be good or bad. With this thought, Hrolmir looked past his guests to the inscription above the doorway: "We are free, but we must be earned." Hrolmir might need to see proof of the character of the Nord woman, but to demand anything less from the Bosmer and all else who would be arriving that evening would be a mockery of the justice he wished to establish.

 

[Aerin]

Elsa could sense the apprehension in Hrolmir and smiled gently at his introduction. Turning to look behind her she watched closely as the Bosmer arrived. He looked like he had seen his fair share of battle and she wondered if he lived up to the legend of the Bosmer archers. She had often read the stories of the bow warriors that came from Valenwood as a young girl, and had always dreamt of going there herself one day. It had been a long time since she had thought of that childhood aspiration.

Removing her glove she offered her hand to Hrolmir. "Elsa, pleased to meet you. I'm glad to hear I'm on time." Shaking his hand firmly she leant easily against the wooden bar, appreciating the age of the oak. Leaning back to allow the elf forward she glanced around and noticed the engraving over the door. Quirking an odd smile she let her mind dwell on the words. She knew that she would struggle to earn the trust of this company, but contrary to common belief there was honour of a sorts among thieves. While her trade was theft she did not think she had lost touch with her father's fables and wise words. Looking back at Hrolmir she could tell he was a good man who had the courage and strength to fight for what he believed in. Something about his assessing gaze made her want to straighten up and either challenge him or fall in line. For now though she remained quiet, happy to observe those she would be working alongside.

 

[blue 468]

Arannir stepped further into the inn trying to shake of the cold, unstrapping his longbow from his back and placing it on the table next to him."Do you have anything to drink, it's been a long trip." noticing a bottle of wine on a table he uncorked it and drank from the bottle. "So how many people are you expecting, and what are we here for anyway you note was very...vague" pausing a moment he took another gulp of wine.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Hrolmir and the woman, named Elsa, shook hands. She then glanced back at the inscription over the doorway and smiled a bit. Then the Bosmer asked about a drink, but noticed and picked up a nearby bottle of wine and took a few gulps. This would have nagged at Hrolmir under any other circumstances, but Hrolmir knew that the man's actions during the course of their 'cultural revolution' would compensate for taking a free drink. Then the elf asked, "So how many people are you expecting, and what are we here for anyway your note was very...vague," after which he took another gulp.

"Well first of all, I know that at least six old friends of mine will be here, along with their own like-minded company. How many will come from all around, spurred by my note, I cannot say. Now, concerning your second question; what we're going to do is, in effect, clean up Skyrim. In case you don't know the state of Whiterun, I'll tell you." Hrolmir took a bottle of mead out from under the counter, pulled the cork, and took a sip. "Some years back, when the huge bandit clans- more like armies- swept across the land, and killed some of the Jarls, a number of power-hungry men fought to take the dead leaders' places, as you most likely know. One of those men who was an... unfriendly and destructive acquaintance of mine, Jon Darkblade, became the Jarl of Whiterun. He began to amass an army and press down on Whiterun's people. His power grew and grew, making the other Jarls feel threatened, and causing them to follow his example. Today, in his old age, he's the harshest of the Jarls. The other Jarls were deposed many times, but never him; and as he aged, he grew more oppressive. That's why he's retained the throne for so many years."

Hrolmir paused to cough, then went on, "Because the Jarls were, and are, always worried for their rule, constantly fighting, but nobody ever wins. This opening let the bandit clans run free, to the point where they dare to live and operate in the open air, not just hole up in caves. And this led to the wilderness roads becoming incredibly dangerous. Now that's your history lesson, though you might be familiar with everything I just said. That brings me to what we will do. Us, and the other fighters who are going to arrive soon, are going to kill all the bandits we can, as well as defending the good people left inside Whiterun. At the same time, some influential merchants who are on their way here tonight are going to stop producing, as well as paying taxes. Once Whiterun Hold is safe and starving, I'll either get the Jarl to step down, or with the help of some friends inside, we'll force him out. We can do so from a standpoint of moral rightness, because he hit first and without cause. Questions?"

 

[Aerin]

Resting on one elbow Elsa listened closely to what Hrolmir hoped for, nodding along as she mentally noted the most significant details. She was familiar with Darkblade, and though she had never come across the man in person, she'd heard enough stories to settle her opinion of him. He was rotten, cruel and vicious, even by her lowly standards. She silently removed the hood she still had up, a little wary to show her face, not out of fear but more out of breaking a habit.

Clearing her throat Elsa leant forward slightly, glad to be given a chance to ask further questions. "Now, I'm all for killing bandits and protecting the innocent and...all that..." The thief gestured vaguely with her hand, her eyes sharp as she focussed on the wizened barkeep. "It's the last part I'd like to ask about. Are we to slip supplies to the good people of Whiterun under the guards noses? I'm assuming it's simply the guards and Dragonsreach who will be cut off from the merchants." Rubbing her hand over her face Elsa continued with a disquieted expression. "How long do you plan for this to take? The hold will have reserves, I've seen them myself and they're plentiful to say the least."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Elsa inquired about the aspect of Hrolmir's plan that would involve depriving the hold. "That's a good point. But because the Jarl usually steals portions of individuals' purchases along with his exorbitant taxes, we can rightly repatriate those reserves to the people to whom they belong. As I know from Katarina's father, who is a guard, security is lax. If we claim to be operating on authority from Jarl Darkblade himself, they won't know any better, and we can walk right out with the Jarl's loot. Our friends in the city will be welcome to come here and buy supplies, and the moochers who don't mind living under such oppression as the Jarl's will starve. When they have to actually work, they'll crumble."

 

[Aerin]

Hrolmir's response was warmly received, a mischievous grin spreading across the nord's face. "A little devious, but it should work. So long as the people we're supposed to be saving don't suffer in anyway I'm happy with your plan." Reaching into a pouch hanging from her belt Elsa passed a few coins across the bar. "Now that I understand the mission perhaps some mead? As I said, my journey was difficult and I could use some relief." Elsa smiled easily, hooking a nearby stool with one foot and dragging it closer so she could sit and rest her feet a while in wait of the others still to come.

 

[blue 468]

Through the whole conversation between Elsa and Hrolmir, Arannir was silent. He merely listened taking in the important points in his plan. "I like you plan but how do you hope to hold the city?" Standing up to adjust his belt "once DarkBlade is replaced it won't be long in till the other Jarl's decide they aren't afraid anymore and attack." Noticing Elsa pay for her drink Arannir felt guilty so he tossed a few coins on the counter "Oh and that's for the wine...sorry" He said sitting back down and taking another large gulp.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

In response to Elsa's request, Hrolmir said, "Of course," pulled up another bottle, and handed it to her, accepting her gold. The Bosmer asked about how the hold would be held after the Jarl was off the throne, and then offered some gold for the bottle of wine he had been drinking.

Hrolmir took a drink, then said, "Thank you. And to your question, I say this; Darkblade, as well as the other Jarls, don't fear one another because they are all good and wish to be better, but because they are all brutes and wish to be more brutal than the rest, but cannot. If a good leader and a force of well-trained fighters-" Hrolmir paused to interject, "both fit enough to overpower their foes, and conscious enough to understand how they overpower them-" then continued, "half the size of Whiterun's current garrison replaced Darkblade and the scum which comprises most of the city's current guard force, the other holds would cower in fear. In everyone I know of who may involve themselves in our mission, there are a number who are willing to fight the other holds as soldiers of Whiterun. And if we pose a chance at freedom to the able thinkers, they'll be willing to accept our help escaping the other cities. With them no longer producing for the other holds or paying taxes, those places will weaken greatly, and then when we push, they'll fall apart. By the way, I haven't gotten your name yet."

 

[blue 468]

Arannir nodded in agreement, Hrolmir had been addressing all the issues that Arannir could think of. He was starting to like Hrolmir he was go good man as far as Nords go, he was straightforward and honest, as far as Arannir could tell. "I hope you plan goes well and I'll help you as much as I can, I to wish for Skyrim to be free." Pausing for moment to finish the last of his wine "Oh and my name is Arannir proud protector of the forest of Valenwood, though we aren't in Valenwood right now so Skyrim will have to do....Please to meet you."

 

[Aerin]

Elsa raised her mead in agreement with Arannir. "Yes. A free Skyrim would help many people indeed. Plus, I've always felt Mundus could do with less bandits. I look forward to that part especially." Rolling her shoulders Elsa relaxed, enjoying the comfort of the tavern. It wasn't often she stayed in places such as this, preferring to camp outside under cover, but she could appreciate the effort Hrolmir put into his establishment. Both men seemed like good, honest people. Though she was not honest, and had never had much chance to be good, she decided she liked them. Her trust would come later but for now the thief was happy to aid the old nord in his mission.

Absently she toyed with the chain around her neck which held her amulet of Nocturnal under her armour. It was an unconscious habit of hers, something she often did when taking in the exits and good hiding spots in a new location. Though she obviously had no intention of infiltrating The Strong Man's Relief, it paid to be prepared and aware of your surroundings. The inscription above the door caught her eye once more and Elsa pointed to it, looking to Hrolmir as she did so. "That engraving, it sounds like something from the tales of old my father used to read to me. Seems to fit you very well."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Hrolmir chuckled and said, "I thought so too, years ago when I built this place. I still think so." Then he paused and listened, cocking his head slightly. Seconds later, a tall, distinguished-looking Nord with sandy hair and deep blue eyes walked in, dressed in fine clothes made of supple cloth. He was followed by twelve strong younger men, and two women. Hrolmir came out from behind the bar and crossed the room halfway, stopping in the middle to greet the man.

"Jensen! How good to see you!"

"Hrolmir, thank you for having us. These," Jensen waved a hand back at the people gathered behind him, "are some of my best workers, who share our ideals. They're willing to help in any way."

"Elsa, Arannir, Katarina, this is Jensen Ice-Wind, owner of half the farmland in Whiterun hold and a longtime friend of mine. Back when I was in the Legion with the Dragonborn and our other friends, he was supplying us with food."

"You know, Hrolmir, I think I saw a few men on horseback coming this way half an hour ago. If they're headed here, they'll arrive soon."

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll have a look outside. Be right back. But first; why haven't you been up here for a visit in two months?"

"The damned Jarl made a big racket over the fact that I was sending the best of my crop to my high-paying customers for significant profit, not to his storehouse as a 'favor'. I still do; I just don't let it show up on the ledger."

Hrolmir was glad to see one of his old friends; it reminded him of the good of the past that was still left over in the world. And the eager young men and women Jensen had brought with him showed him that the good was still being passed down. As he walked up the stairs to the second level of the inn, he wondered who would arrive next. "Will it be Hadvar, perhaps? Or maybe Amren..."

Once outside, Hrolmir gazed into the distance and saw a party of three, riding horses up the road to the Strong Man's Relief. They would be at the door momentarily, so Hrolmir walked back inside and downstairs. He filed past the assemblage of people and went out the doors, leaving them propped open. He took a few steps out, then waited.

The three figures tied their horses to a post, and proceeded towards the entrance to the inn. As they came into the flickering light from the fires set on either side of the doors, and Hrolmir knew who they were.

"Hadvar, glad you could make it from Solitude." Hrolmir gave the old legionnaire's hand a firm shake, then moved on to the Nord woman who was behind him. "Uthgerd, it's been too long. And Amren, how are you? I am sorry to hear about Saffir."

"Thanks, Hrolmir. It's been hard without her, but I'll manage." Amren offered a slight smile.

"How about you three head on inside. I'm going to address everyone soon."

 

[Aerin]

Suddenly it seemed as if the small tavern was flooded with windswept faces. Elsa tensed, taking in each traveller one by one, quietly and quickly assessing their obvious strengths. As she was introduced she offered a tight smile, before putting forward her hand in greeting.

There were so many she knew she would have time to learn each by name, not tonight. But she knew to focus on Jensen, the clear leader of the group. Introducing herself to more of his companions Elsa tried to appear amicable, not wanting to attract any curious stares. Taking a swig of mead she steeled herself, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the number of people between herself and the door, but she told herself that while it was a good instinct, it was not one needed tonight. Turning to the Bosmer, the thief tipped her head at the group. "Quite a few fighters here. I don't know about you but I admit I feel rather intimidated, but I'm sure they will be fearsome in battle. It will be something watching a Valenwood ranger in combat though. I'm already impressed."

 

[blue 468]

Arannir watched as Hrolmir introduced all the different people who came through the door, Arannir was never good with names but he didn't doubt he would eventually remember all there names. Through the introductions Arannir smiled and nodded, giving a few nice words here and there but he never really liked being in a crowd, he preferred working alone like he use to do back in Valenwood, Arannir could sense the same discomfort in Elsa.

the thief tipped her head at the group. "Quite a few fighters here. I don't know about you but I admit I feel rather intimidated, but I'm sure they will be fearsome in battle. It will be something watching a Valenwood ranger in combat though. I'm already impressed."

Arannir nodded Their were a lot of capable looking warriors here but Arannir would decide if they were really all they looked like when it came to a fight. Responding to Elsa's question "They do look like the fearsome bunch but we'll see if they can do more than make a lot of noise" Raising an eyebrow at her second comment Arannir replied "How did you know I was a Ranger? I could of been a random thief who stole this bow and quiver."

 

[Aerin]

Elsa couldn't help but grin at the bosmer's surprise. Leaning in conspiratorially she spoke quietly, "Well you see, I make a point to read people. It's a skill I've had to pick up. Something about you speaks of higher purpose. You are a bosmer, one who walks like if he had no bow at his back he would feel naked and lost. I simply guessed that you might be a ranger, but as we both see, my gamble pulled off rather nicely don't you think."

Leaning back she took a sip from her mead. Regarding the crowd once more she pursed her lips in thought. His words were true but she still felt discomfort at the idea of fighting beside so many others. She was solitary most times, not liking to work in groups much larger than five. She would have to reassess herself in this group...play around with how she would fit into the strange dynamic.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

After Hrolmir had sent Hadvar, Amren, and Uthgerd inside, he greeted a few more guests before heading inside. Everyone had had a chance to mingle and say hello, so Hrolmir pulled Jensen near the bar and prepared to start addressing the people.

"Hello everyone. By now you've all settled in, I hope. Now, you all know why I called you here. You probably have a basic idea of what we're going to do, but I'm going to spell things out in more detail. First, we've got to..."

As Hrolmir reiterated what he had already said before Wilhelm, Elsa, Arannir, and Katarina, Wilhelm was enraptured with Katarina. Hrolmir's voice seemed to get quieter, though not that it mattered much- Wilhelm had heard much of what he was saying already over the past weeks. The young man much preferred to observe Katarina, especially when she was listening to one of his grandfather's idealistic speeches. As Hrolmir grew more sure of what he was saying, she would hold her breath a little, affected by the gravity of his ideas.

Wilhelm always wished that he could elicit such a response from her, but he wasn't a speaker, or much of a thinker, for that matter. Katarina liked him, but as one likes a dog that runs around and bumps into every static object; it may not be intelligent, but it tries. When Wilhelm had such thoughts, he often automatically tried to impress Katarina in some shallow way, but deep in his sleeping consciousness, he knew that he would have to learn to think if he wanted Katarina to truly admire him.

When Wilhelm's train of thought returned to the present, Jensen had taken over speaking. "...and so, we'll cause the city to begin crumbling. Robberies and murders will go up even more, farmers' fields will burn at the hands of both the farmers and desperate, directionless creatures, and the Jarl will even come to men like Hrolmir and I, the movers, and beg us to take over. We will not. And when the city is on its very last legs, the Jarl will reach into his dwindling reserves, which we will gradually deflate, and buy the services of the private army of bandits which today resides in the wilderness of the hold... but unbeknownst to him, we will have wiped the bandits out. The lights will go out in the city, and we'll come in and turn things around." The many men and women who had listened to the plan intently cheered and drank, in celebration of the victory ahead of them.

 

[Aerin]

While Hrolmir spoke Elsa watched the room's reaction to his stirring speech. It was clear that everyone here truly believed in what they fought for. The barkeep spoke words of revolution, revenge, justice, honour. The thief found herself overwhelmed with a sense of disparity between her and those around her. They fought for good. She was fighting for gold. Gold and the memory of her father she supposed. Though towards the latter years of his life he gave into the darker side of things, he was just and kind. He was a true nord, proud of his home, willing to die to protect what he believed in. Elsa was nothing like him, but as she grew older she began to wonder if she could be like him, if she could live up to his memory and make him proud. That had been the real reason behind her journeying to this tavern whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Shaking her head to disperse the melancholy that threatened to settle, her eyes focussing once more on the speaker, now Jensen. Jensen fascinated Elsa, something about the man catching her attention. She listened intently to the plan, her fingers twitching at the mention of depleting the Jarl's resources. She would likely offer herself to that particular task, it was perfectly suited to her skill set. When Jensen finally came to a roaring close the tavern was filled with the shouts of men and women confident that they would be the solution to the problem. They drank, they laughed, they cheered. All the while Elsa quietly sipped her mead, smiling at any who looked her way, but preferring to stay quiet.