Geel-Kajin
Well-Known Member
"Hah, fairness? Why do you think you'd be asked to swear if the thing you're asked to do is fair?" Crow smiled dryly, studying the high elf. She was young, no doubt. Crow admired her bravery... But where could bravery take one in a world like this, where men relied upon lies to hold the swords of other men?
The commander bristled with warning, the red symbol upon his armor seemed to show his concealed frustration and anger. His face, however, showed nothing. Only if one looked deep into his eyes would they see the cold calculating fury, the ruthless nature within.
"I cannot tell you the details yet, but what I can say is that this is for the good of Whiterun. A good citizen of the hold would beg to do this job and serve the city which protects them. We have, after all, never taxed the Companions for staying within the city, shouldn't it be time one of you repays the kindness of Lord Balgruuf?"
The commander walked a slow round as he spoke, each syllable seeming to be poison. The supple leather boots made no sound as he stepped on the stone floor, but the sword on his hip screamed of the dangerous person he was. You may be able to kill someone discreetly, but your blade tells me all I need to know. The armor he wore clinked slightly, like the chime of tiny bells. The sound seemed to soothe everyone in the room, as if persuading the elf to swear.
When he had completed his small circle, the commander stood back at attention, eyes alight like a cunning wolf. The commander's skin was the shade of coppery rust, tanned by the many hours of brutal fighting. His hair, normally hidden by the Imperial helmet, was slick and greasy. The black mane to below his shoulders, thick and heavy. A slightly smile played upon his thin lips, before adding on, " After all, Elf. Does it seem like you can refuse?"
The High elf may not have understood that, but Crow did. He turned his thin face around warily, and saw what it meant. The shadows of other people could be seen in the corridors beyond, visible by the light of the flames. Their dark shadows could be seen on every entrance and exit. If she refuses, the commander does not intend to let her go alive, he realized. Concentrating upon the darkness that made up the hidden figures, he saw that several of the silhouettes were crouching behind objects, as if waiting to surprise her if she walked off. They were as still as stone, easily mistakeable for the shadows of furniture or other items.
Let's see how wise you are, elf. Can you see past the pretense?
The commander bristled with warning, the red symbol upon his armor seemed to show his concealed frustration and anger. His face, however, showed nothing. Only if one looked deep into his eyes would they see the cold calculating fury, the ruthless nature within.
"I cannot tell you the details yet, but what I can say is that this is for the good of Whiterun. A good citizen of the hold would beg to do this job and serve the city which protects them. We have, after all, never taxed the Companions for staying within the city, shouldn't it be time one of you repays the kindness of Lord Balgruuf?"
The commander walked a slow round as he spoke, each syllable seeming to be poison. The supple leather boots made no sound as he stepped on the stone floor, but the sword on his hip screamed of the dangerous person he was. You may be able to kill someone discreetly, but your blade tells me all I need to know. The armor he wore clinked slightly, like the chime of tiny bells. The sound seemed to soothe everyone in the room, as if persuading the elf to swear.
When he had completed his small circle, the commander stood back at attention, eyes alight like a cunning wolf. The commander's skin was the shade of coppery rust, tanned by the many hours of brutal fighting. His hair, normally hidden by the Imperial helmet, was slick and greasy. The black mane to below his shoulders, thick and heavy. A slightly smile played upon his thin lips, before adding on, " After all, Elf. Does it seem like you can refuse?"
The High elf may not have understood that, but Crow did. He turned his thin face around warily, and saw what it meant. The shadows of other people could be seen in the corridors beyond, visible by the light of the flames. Their dark shadows could be seen on every entrance and exit. If she refuses, the commander does not intend to let her go alive, he realized. Concentrating upon the darkness that made up the hidden figures, he saw that several of the silhouettes were crouching behind objects, as if waiting to surprise her if she walked off. They were as still as stone, easily mistakeable for the shadows of furniture or other items.
Let's see how wise you are, elf. Can you see past the pretense?
