The Elder Scrolls: The Gibbering's Gambit [IC]

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

THE ELDER SCROLLS: THE GIBBERING'S GAMBIT

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OOC | IC | THEME

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"I don't mean to forebode, but this little ode,
Is a lesson you must heed.

For when Men bound, to the Doom Drum's sound,
You'll learn what the Corpse-God wrought."
- The Folly of Man

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Thules, first of his name, witch-warrior king of the Niben, and Emperor of Tamriel, was not a patient man. Sickly yellow fingers impatiently drummed on the polished, shining white marble of the Ruby Throne as he sat in silence, listening to his Elder Council, uninterested. The Council chambers were relatively empty, with many seats vacant, the Councillors having opted to simply... not attend. Their emperor did not fault them for this. Indeed, he wished he could do the same - and he had done such plenty of times, before, but some of his confidantes had pushed him to at least attend once every while. And so it was that the Emperor was sat on his throne, attending the meetings of his Council as they discussed matters that he could scarcely care about. He had far better things to do, in truth - or so he told himself. More... exciting things. The massive Council chambers echoing with the sound of rich people discussing the most minute details of the Empire's administrations were the exact opposite of that. With a low grunt, he turned to look at the man that was speaking now, his brown eyes filled with the strange combination of boredom, and fury.

"...and so it is that once again I implore you all that we -mustn't- raise the import tariffs on goods of High Rock once again. The current fee, of three-point-five percent, is more than enough already. To raise it to five percent would be outrageous! This would cost the mercantile fleet of Wayrest, especially, dearly, and the piracy within Illiac Bay is already outrageous. Indeed, I fear that if this were to transpire -" The balding Breton man that was voicing his objections found himself silenced by the Emperor, sat on his Ruby Throne still, in the rudest of way - through magic. As his lips moved, no words actually left his mouth, and he was rendered silent. Confused, for a moment, before he quickly say down, almost stumbling, as he noticed Thules' glare. "Enough," he spoke, with a voice a pitch higher than most would expect of a man of his build, "import tariffs on goods from High Rock coming through the ports of the Imperial City shall be increased to four point five percent, so as to somewhat compensate for your objections while simultaneously delivering us the coin we need to rebuild our most glorious Empire. I believe that would be all for today?" The Emperor's eyes moved across the council chambers, and upon seeing that nobody spoke up at that, he gave a satisfied nod. "Good. I shall retire to my own chambers, then." The witch-warrior rose from the Ruby Throne, before his eyes settled on the Breton he had only moments ago silenced with his magics. "Lord Salrick, I would very much like to invite you to come dine with me tonight, that we may discuss your... objections in more detail." The Breton quickly clambered up from his seat again, bowing, and once again able to speak. "I would be more than honored, your majesty!"

The man sounded less honored than he did concerned, and Inera Heran did not fault him. This was most unusual. When Thules announced he would retire to his chambers, usually, he would not invite others to join him. Certainly not men to join him in the evening. She blinked, noticing one of her eyebrows had risen as she watched the exchange unfold while the Emperor made to leave the Council chambers, in the company of his newfound Breton... dining partner. She quickly corrected that, and looked away, lest the Gibbering see her staring. She saw that aging, pudgy man, the former ambassador to Morrowind, and now a Minister to the Emperor, Hierem, was doing the same, his blue eyes now settled on her, absentmindedly. She gave the man a cold stare. The Imperial ambassadors to Morrowind had always been more than just ambassadors - until recently, at least. The man was no different, and Inera truly loathed any Imperial that had pretended to have any say in the affairs of the Dunmeri people's homeland. Lips pursed, she turned her eyes towards the paperwork laying in front of her instead, quickly gathering it and putting it on a small, neat pile, picking it up with her as she rose from her chair. The Emperor had left the room, and so, too, was his Elder Council now moving to depart.

Tugging at the side of her purple Dunmeri robes to straighten them a little, so too did Inera move to vacate the room, paper in hands and a rolled up scroll stuck underneath her arm. She came to a halt near the doors to the Council Chambers, in front of a small group of Imperial soldiers, clad in leather armor embellished with the Empire's iconography. She addressed their leader, who had been standing at attention even before she stepped outside of the chambers. She wondered for how long he'd been standing like that. Not too long, probably. She knew her guards well enough. They'd been assigned to her for two weeks now, after all. "Take me home then, Mercuro, unless you'd like to stay for a while and have a look at all of the other councilors...?" The Imperial remained standing. "The estate or your home within the city, my lady?" The Dunmer motioned for him to lead the way outside, and so he did, his fellows following along. "The City for today. I'll likely have some business I need to see to tomorrow, and I do so loathe having to travel across the entire Isle early in the morning..." This wasn't entirely true, of course, but he didn't have to know. Inera simply wanted to be among the first to find out what'd happen to poor, poor Lord Salrick.

The sun shone brightly, still, as they left the White-Gold Tower, beaming down on the Imperial City Isle and its countless inhabitants. The streets outside of the Emperor's palace were crowded, for it stood at the center of the Empire's capital, and its usually busy streets were filled even more with the Elder Council's members that had been present for their meeting pouring out onto them, together with their own guards. Inera smiled faintly as she took notice to the Breton Lord Salrich who seemed to be particularly eager to at least temporarily retire to wherever it was that he was residing. She couldn't blame him for that, the poor thing. Absentmindedly, she held out the scroll to her right, where it was taken by one of her guards, a young-looking Redguard fellow whose name she did not know - or cared to know, for that matter.

Smiling to herself, still, Inera allowed herself to be lead towards the Elven Garden district, where her 'humble' manor within the City's walls was located. They moved through the Green Emperor Way, surrounded by shrubbery shaped in the likeness of former Emperors, their tombs, and statues of many an Imperial hero. The Cyrods did not care for their dead ancestors as much as the Dunmer did - not by far - but this place, at least, was beautiful and well-maintained. At least there was one thing that was well cared for during Thules' reign, as long as it would last, then.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Careful steps. Casual. Velyna, proud daughter of House Redoran, took one step after another in the broad daylight of the Imperial City. She always thought it strange that it never had a proper name of its own- perhaps in Ayleid times one could find one, but ever since the very foundations of the empire had there been a lack of a proper name. In any case, it was a quiet stride that she took through the lovely Elven Gardens. She had just been in contact with a local agent of her peculiar guild, one Fathis Ules, who was a resident of the district. To Velyna, the thought was quite humorous- that one of those living in this high-class luxury would happen to be in her guild, but at the same time his Dunmeri appearance betrayed him.

Was Fathis just an extension of the politics of Morrowind, those that Velyna fought so hard to escape? Was he just like her, having fled and tried to make a new life, albeit so much more successfully? It did not matter, in the end- Velyna knew she was doing good work here. She had, in fact, actually been quite eager to tackle the mission, knowing that her target was an unapologetic member of House Dres. They deserved the fate they would get, and this particular one would deserve what she would get quite soon. The target house was only a little bit further, and so Velyna's casual stride through the district would take a sudden detour into an alleyway, followed by some zigzagging. Anyone who had been watching would have most certainly lost track by the time she arrived to the back entrance, a wall surrounding the garden.

Taking a deep breath, Velyna readied herself. Tugging her long gloves at the wrist, to ensure they were as close a fit to the hand as they could be for the task, she backed away slowly. With one strong step, she planted her foot into the ground, and pushed. One, two, three- each step a lunge of its own, leading to a great leap into the air, Velyna's arms stretched, and finally she caught the top of the wall. Now hanging, she pulled herself up and over the top, landing softly in the grass below with a careful, delicate drop.

She quickly ducked behind any cover that she could find, and scouted the area for any staff. In broad daylight, the mission would be difficult- however, the guild had observed the time as most opportune. It was, after all, only around this time of day that the occupant might be reliably outside the home, when servants would be dozing off and when any remaining guards would be light if at all present. After noticing a lack of anybody lurking in the garden, she made her way to the door. With minimal effort, it opened. Pulling it slowly, ensuring that it would not make any creaks if it was wont to do so, she slipped inside as soon as she could and closed it just as carefully behind her. The infiltration was successful.

Taking ever-careful steps, her toes down first to feel out any creaky boards, she placed one foot before the other. Shifting her weight to each foot at it found its secure footing, she kept her eyes open for any signs of activity within the manor. At the same time, various glints of precious objects filled her vision. While these were not the target of the mission, it was by no means disallowed to take extra. In fact, it was indeed encouraged. Grabbing fistfuls of jewelry, from necklaces to bracelets, from earrings to anklets, and rings and armbands and candlesticks and silverware, Velyna slowly filled her bag with all the most expensive things she could find. The owner of the house, she imagined, must've done the same at a market years ago.

Hearing some chatter in the direction she was going, Velyna quickly cut to a different path. Avoidance was the best policy, as she wished not to inflict violence. She was not an assassin, and her guild banned such people. By all means, it was the better option to simply avoid any staff. As the chatter seemed to fade, Velyna observed her new surroundings- some sort of bedroom it seemed. Taking a loose look at what valuables might be taken, a good few dresses were stuffed into the bag now as well. Seeing no more of value in plain sight, especially considering the remaining space in her bag and the specific object she had been sent to be retrieved, and so she moved on.

Engaging once more in her careful steps, she ducked around a corner to listen for anything- voices, footsteps, but found nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, Velyna returned to her business. Setting herself on a path to avoid servants, always trying to keep herself on the opposite end of the house from wherever there seemed activity, Velyna scouted the building to no avail. The object she had been sent to retrieve seemed as if it simply did not exist- an impossibility, of course, and so it must be hidden? Velyna groaned, realizing this meant that she'd have to retrace her steps. Going back on herself, she began to scout every little nook and cranny she could find. With enough time, and her contact had informed her that she'd certainly have enough, she would find it eventually. Right?

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The manor within the Elven Gardens district of the Imperial City was not Inera's home. Nor was the Imperial City in general - or the island it was located on. Indeed, all of Cyrodiil was very much not her home, but alas, she was stuck here, at least if she wanted to do what was best for the Great House. And so it was that, alas, the Imperial-made manor she found herself approaching was very much her... home, of sorts. Regrettably. As they came closer, her guards came to a halt, one of them opening the door for her, allowing the Dunmer to step inside first, the others following in after her.

"Right," She began, turning around to look at the variety of people that had entered with her. "...how long was it that you had to stand there, again?" She shook her head, not allowing them to answer, giving a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Never mind - don't tell me. Too long, either way. Take a seat, I'll have it so you all get something to drink." Quickly pulling the scroll she'd handed over earlier from the Redguard's hand, she turned around and called out for one of the servants. "Daymi! Be a dear and get this lot something to drink - and not too much, if you would!" Inera turned around, giving her guards a vaguely warning look at that. "If any of you break anything of mine, or otherwise ruin it... Well. I shan't talk of what happens then. I wouldn't want to ruin your... fun. Hmm." Giving the Dunmeri servant girl that hurried inside of the hallway, she turned for the staircase. "I'll just take care of a few things. Do enjoy yourselves until then." With that, she moved for the staircase at her own, somewhat slow pace.

At a similarly slow speed, she ascended the staircase, humming to herself, eventually picking up her pace. Her paperwork carried with her, she moved for the third floor right away, towards her own, personal quarters. Loosening her dress a little, Inera stretched her arms as she moved up into her chambers. Some respite from the endless politicking of the Elder Council was in order. A bath, perhaps? Yes. That was a good idea. A bath always helped her relax. Ah, truly, how she longed for - She blinked, her eyes narrowing. What was that she heard? Her eyes shot to her left, where she saw a red-haired Dunmer searching through some of her.... wait, what was she doing in those drawers? Eyes narrowed further. "What are you doing in there? Explain yourself, gi-" Inera blinked. She didn't have any servants with red hair these days. "-who are you, and what in Oblivion are you doing in here?!"

Swiftly, she reached for the ebony dagger she had tucked away, rapidly holding it out in front of herself, aimed in the general direction of the intruder. "Well, fetcher?" Waving her dagger in a vaguely threatening way, she gestured at the woman's bag. "Put that down. There's a whole host of guards that'll appear if I but even give a single yell, so you will do as I say, are we clear...?" She narrowed her eyes at Velyna. "Let's settle this like civilized Dunmer, and I may just treat you like one, rather than some sort of... savage Khajiit cur." She lowered the dagger a little - although barely. "Drop that bag, slide it to me, and we'll head... down the stairs. Calmly and peacefully. No need to jump out of any windows, breaking all of your bones, nor for me to have my guards break your bones - just do as I say, hmm?"

With a low grunt, she gestured for the other to follow - after doing as instructed, of course. Evidently, the House Dres member knew how to handle a dagger to some extent, and sounded confident enough - even if from her posture, she didn't look entirely confident, or convinced of her own skill with her weapon in this particular scenario. Inera flashed a weak smile. "Some tea, perhaps?" The dagger remained raised, the Dunmer carrying it evidently ready to lead the other away for just that. It was less an invitation, and more of an order, maybe. "Let's make it so that nobody here gets hurt..."

[Zanera]

Ra'zasha Kolmik
Rihad, Hammerfell
Stroll through the Marketplace

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Elsweyr was a hot land of sand and jungle, Ra'zasha had experienced both, and even the wilds of Valenwood. He crossed a green Colovian land of bandits and warlords and tolls, and crossed the Brena River between Cyrodiil and Rihad and soon came into the unique desert landscape of Hammerfell. Ra'zasha read about Rihad. It was mentioned in many literary works, it was a port town on the Abacean Sea and was close to the Brena River. The area was prone to pirates in times of imperial interregnum and such, Ra'zasha having seen two pirate ships sailing up the river just barging across the inlet. He also read about the city often training warriors, and so he wasn't afraid to initiate a cargo ship business in Rihad, given the government would charter him thusly and the warriors came cheaply-enough.

Ra'zasha entered the gates with his wagon and crew easily enough, as the city was a Forebear city mainly and Ra'zasha was obviously a cat of wealth. He asked about for a good inn, and arrived at one that would gladly take Ra'zasha's coin for an indeterminate time. The innkeepers were happy to provide food and drink, but no one in the crew could do more than drink a small drought since they had to find a safe place to keep the cart and horses, and Ra'zasha wanted to tour the marketplace to speak with spice merchants about their product supply. He knew Redguards liked to haggle, and most of the stallsmen would keep their supply secret. It was later in the day and it would be a time to relax. Ra'zasha went from one merchant to another, tasting their spices on various foods and asking the merchants with the best spices where they got it from. As he thought, none would give him their source until he met a jolly young Redguard with an obscure stand.

The young Redguard's name was Amir, and he was excitable when the cat took a business interest in his spices, which were some of the most prodigious he had tasted so far. Amir told Ra'zasha to wait until early in the Loredas morning when his supplier would be outside of the city to give Amir the spices. Until then, Ra'zasha would go back to his inn and would pour some moon-sugar on a sweet roll after tasting spices all day. Spiciness was the opposite of what the Khajit normally liked. He discussed the business of the day with his associates before moving around the inn to the few Bretons that were there. He was interested in possible business interactions should they have interesting endeavors themselves, or if they knew a friend of family member somewhere in Hammerfell that had something or had connections. Ra'zasha found no such thing, and finished his drink. He would talk to the other Bretons of Rihad tomorrow, the day before Loredas.

Early Fredas
The Docks

Ra'zasha decided he'd scout the docks, looking for potential clients or salesmen. He walked about for hours in the early morning, growing dejected at the tradeships so pitiful. Pirates were keeping most sea trade away from the Abacean Sea. Only the most hardened captains wanted to even bother with this part of the ocean. At about 8:30 or so a damaged ship came into the harbor that caused a commotion with the port authority. It flew no flag and pulled up to the dock but made no motions to moor the ship. The guards at the port assembled at the dock and an officer went up to the hull to try to raise the captain, but after it pulled up to the dock there was little motion on the big ship that anyone could see.

This all immediately piqued Ra'zasha's interest, and he pushed straight through the crowd to the edge of the guard assemblage. The Khajit asked for the officer of the guards, and with little else to do but to call for a brig to blockade the ship, the officer obliged. Ra'zasha wanted a large plank to climb up the the top deck of the ship with. If they wouldn't answer to authority, maybe they would listen to a merchant from Elsweyr. As some guards got the plank, he called up," I am Ra'zasha Kolmik, a merchant from the streets of Senchal. I have business interests from Valenwood to Elsweyr to Cyrodiil. You hold Ra'zasha's interests currently, and I wish to speak to your captain to discuss your current predicament!"

The plank was set against the ship, and Ra'zasha waited for several minutes, hearing a heated debate on the deck that he could not make out exactly. It got quiet and a Redguard boy waved for him to come up. Ra'zasha's head emerged over the side of the ship to see a crew composed mainly of Redguards, with a Breton and an Imperial to spice it up. There was a motley semicircle of them with the captain at the front of the apex, an older Redguard with a mean beard. His feet were planted apart with his arms crossed, and he had a mean look on his face to match his beard. His hands were hidden in his arms. A few in his crew looked equally pissed at their captain as they did Ra'zasha. Nonetheless, Ra'zasha took the captain's stance but crossed his arms in a way that his hands were exposed, and he could show his claws. He knew the truth about them; the only time he had gotten them bloody, it was his own blood, since the pests of Valenwood were unforgiving. He saw the boy that waved him up shoving the plank off the ship. This Khajit was alone.

"What business do you have, Khajit? Speak quickly, or we will shut you down. We are not in the mood to keep cool and the day is just getting hot."

"Ra'zatha is a merchant with interests up and down the River Niben, in the Imperial City itself. Ra'zasha came here, to Hammerfell, for new business opportunities, and I noticed your ship in its current predicament. I take it you are pirates?" inquired Ra'zatha. The captain nodded and looked ever more impatient. "You received some damage, and as far as Ra'zatha could tell, the damage is reparable. However, the port does not take kindly to pirates, and you think you could be arrested. Well, if you don't want to keep your booty-"

The captain strode up to him and put a scimitar to his throat. Ra'zatha intended to finish his sentence, however," then turn to a life of legitimacy, and you give the city the booty and I then bring you a steady income, and the city good business, then what do we have? A deal on our hands that makes everyone happy and gives them coin."

The captain seemed to start thinking very hard about what Ra'zatha was saying, and looked at his crew. Some had hopeful faces, some were just desperate, and some others were still bitter. "Have you negotiated this with the guards yet?"

"No. Not yet, but Ra'zatha can go back down the plank to do so. This proposal is lucrative for everyone. Ra'zatha is confident in it."

The boy went to call for the plank and noticed that the guards looked ready to storm the ship. Ra'zatha peered over the side and said he had a proposal, and to remain calm. The guards put the plank back up and Ra'zatha came down, and so did the plank again. He explained the proposal to the officer, and the officer relayed it to the city's ruler through a messenger. Ra'zatha saw that the guards had sent off the crowd while he was on board the ship. He noted a lot of other things and asked about the commerce of the city, which the officer didn't know much about. Soon the Khajit was down to watching seagulls peck at a ripped bag of dried peas before the sounds of a scuffle and metal against metal attracted everyone's attention. Everyone cleared the pier as the pirates began throwing all their booty onto it.

By the time they finished and the pirates lowered their own board, the lord of the city had come to the docks to check out the situation himself with a new contingent of guards. The pirates came down the ramp with a few of the crew bound, including the captain, and offered them and the booty to the lord in exchange for their lives and their ship, and then offered to be employed by Ra'zatha in order to make sure they stayed legitimate. They and Ra'zatha could see the gleam of gold and silver in the lord's eye, and the lord accepted the deal. Ra'zatha spoke with the lord to make sure the pirates had enough money to get rooms at an inn and to get some food and drink for at least a few days. He actually wanted the ship and its crew, he wasn't in it out of pity, Ra'zatha wanted to make sure they didn't make off with the ship, and even got a few guards to help make sure they didn't. He promised the crew their first stipend when they made their first delivery, and found a shipwright to fix the damages. He now had to secure the ship's cargo and then he would find the right customers.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Velyna had nearly gasped when she saw what she was looking through- but certainly such a place might be a good place to hide the object she sought. Of course, that's when she heard a voice call from behind- and this startled her. Trying to maintain her composure, she turned to look at the woman who had stumbled into her. A fatal decision, had Velyna been less cautious and dutiful- in true Redoran spirit in her own twisted way. She looked at the way the woman held the dagger, clearly unskilled and probably frightened. Velyna figured that any disarming would be scarce any issue at all, at least if a single scream would not blow the entire operation. She certainly didn't have any place to put the wretch, nor anything to keep her quiet.

"Don't call me a fetcher." Velyna stated bluntly, making almost a fanciful gesture of dropping her beg on the floor and kicking it over. The various bits and bobbles within jingled as it slid towards the other, presumably the owner of the manor if she were to guess by appearance. Slowly approaching, in a calm demeanor, she got close enough to be stabbed if the other so desired it. Velyna was not tall, not by humans standards and not by those of mer- in fact, she was of rather average height and build for any given Dunmer. Her voice was a medium-low, incredibly smooth tone, almost like honey in its sound. It spoke with an air of refinement, a certain softness, and it certainly did not match the ash-blasted voices some had come to associate with Morrowind. This is all important, of course, because her features would not stop her from being intimidating if she so desired- just as now, she approached close enough to be stabbed violently and did not so much as flinch, step back, or even hesitate in the least.

Following the woman down, they sat down at a table. Expecting to be tied up and hauled away to some dark cell somewhere, Velyna found a great surprise that her chair was not immediately swarmed by guards, was not fitted with straps, but was indeed just a higher-class chair all perfectly normal. It wasn't even laced with poisoned needles! What a miracle that was. It was a Dres, she supposed- murder wasn't their way of conducting business. As Velyna raised her head to look to the other, who was probably at this very point giving her a lecture, she gave herself a rather regal, refined posture. Although her clothing was not so fancy, she wanted to be entirely clear that this S'wit was not dealing with some common thug. Interrupting whatever the other had to say, she spoke, having not been listening in the first place-

"I am Velyna Venim. You are a target of my guild. You should not expect this to be the last attempt, Dres, and know that you are being watched. It just happened to be cut short this time around."

Velyna crossed her ankles, and adjusted the way she sat. With this small adjustment, she felt the hidden dagger still in place, ready if anything went wrong. Indeed, if this wretch called guards, Velyna had the perfect plan to escape- she was well familiar with the layout of the house by now after all that looking. Furthermore, she felt the other demanded an explanation, and if anything she could induce some paranoia- it was a truth that the failed mission would almost certainly not be the end of it all, but Velyna wanted to see the Dres react to such a story told rather directly to her face. Although she'd long dissociated from the politics of Morrowind, the Dres, as traditional slavers and as enemies of Redoran, were something she always found a particular distaste for. Velyna had no doubt that this prim and proper fancy S'wit was no different.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Inera very much scoffed at that. The fetcher, not a fetcher? That just sounded stupid. "I state things as they are. You very much are a fetcher. Or a thief, if you would. Same thing, different language." Her eyes narrowed. "...you -do- speak Dunmeris, don't you?" She watched as the bag was dropped on the floor, and kicked towards her - at the kicking, she winced a little. By the sound of it, there was probably some silverware and jewelry in there! She quickly picked it up, her dagger still raised as the other Dunmer approached, although indeed, she did not opt to stab the woman. Such a thing would be terribly uncivilized thing to do now, of course, and she would not stoop so low as to be equal to thieves the likes of this one.

Standing at a roughly equal height, Inera found herself unable to properly look down on the other - at least physically. A great shame, truly, but no matter. "Don't do anything funny," she duly told her, her voice perhaps similarly not very tarred by the ashes of some parts of Morrowind. Her accent very much gave away that she'd been raised in wealth and in the southern reaches of the Dunmer people's homeland, refined noble features perhaps somewhat broken by the scarring by her lips and on her cheek. Slowly, she began descending the staircase, never once turning her back towards Velyna, furthering the rather slow pace with which she moved down to the floor beneath, bag of assorted goods still in one hand, dagger in the other.

Unamused, as they came down to the second floor and the living room located therein, Inera gestured towards one of the chairs standing by a small tea table - or rather, pointed at it with her dagger. As the thief took a seat, so too did she, lowering herself into the other chair by that same tea table, dropping the bag next to her. Her dagger she continued holding in a hand, even as she rested her arms. Eyes narrowed, she stared at the thief once again. "So... You break into my home, steal my jewelry and silverware, my-" She took a quick moment to have a peek at what exactly it was inside of that bag. "- dresses. I find you searching through my - never mind that. Were you anything but Dunmer, I would already have had you hauled off and put to work to recompense the monetary loss you attempted at causing. However-"

She blinked, surprised, perhaps, as the Dunmer introduced herself. "Dres Inera Heran. But you already knew that, I imagine. Venim, you say, hmm? Redoran, then. I would ask you if this is... Great House affairs, but you speak of your 'guild'. Were you Morag Tong, you would have tried for my life already, and wouldn't have sought to rob me of my valuables. Were you, so uncharacteristically, Camonna Tong, you would not speak of a guild. An Imperial Guild then, no...? Surely not the Barrister's Guild? The Cobbler's Guild? The Prostitute's Guild, perhaps...? Tsk." She pursed her lips. "I always wondered how it is that a bunch of thieves can organize themselves and call it a 'guild', as if such a band of criminals could be a legitimate organisation. I would ask what it is you were wanting from me, then, if not just my valuables? I also wonder how House Redoran would respond, to find that one of such a prominent family stooped to common burglary, working for an outlander organisation." Being watched by shady organisations certainly wasn't something she enjoyed in the slightest, but the Dunmer had been involved in the Empire's highest level of politics for years, now, and she was nothing if not very adequate at keeping up a strict, neutral expression on her face.

Inera titled her head a little. "Not in a very positive way, I can assure you." Raising a hand, she called out downstairs. "Milesa? Tea for two, if you would, please!" Having finished calling for tea - undoubtedly, it would be her favorite, bittergreen - to the raven-haired Dunmer that would surely arrive soon, bringing the tea in question, the Dres noblewoman turned back towards the other. "Now, whatever shall we do with you, I wonder? This is quite the predicament, is it not?"

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Something hurt in Velyna. She was taught composure, bravery, strictness, but there was definitely a very sharp sting to any talk of her origins- especially knowing what she had done was against everything that she had grown up valuing- and yet, she felt that there was never another choice. it had been fated since her birth that this be the path she led, no looking back. Pausing, trying her best to keep a neutral expression, she thought to the questions asked and tried to answer them in turn.

"It is not a guild of brigands and thieves. They are heroes, champions of their own right. They do much to help those in need, to never take from those undeserving." she stated, glaring her counterpart in the eye, "To adhere to a strict code for the benefit of those who are desperately in need. Outlanders or not, I cannot imagine a more Redoran way to live my life than to help those who cannot help themselves, pressed upon by the boot of an uncaring government that seeks to drain them of every coin." She sighed, and suppressed a sniffle. Her eyes felt a bit watery, but she fought like a great beast to keep any emotion bottled up within- she could not show weakness, no matter how much it might hurt inside to be humiliated and forced to confront a harsh truth, one she would divulge shortly:

"And my family does not know my status. They do not even know if I yet live. It has been...years, years since I last saw any of them," she coughed, and took in a deep breath, "Thus, telling them changes nothing for me."

It was true. Velyna had no more reliance on the house of Redoran for her subsistence. She had not taken from them, had not seen them, had not contacted them, she had not even been to Morrowind in what felt as if an eternity. "I-it's not as if I have much to return to regardless. Your people have driven mine into the ground, so they've said. Of course, what does it matter? What do you care for tradition, for honor, for just retribution, if it does not bring you profit? Do not lecture me on Redoran values."

Shifting in her seat once more, Velyna spoke up, trying to answer the final question- really a deflection- "as for what I seek, it has been said you may possess a diamond of considerable value. That was the specific target that I was sent for, but they all but told me that ancillary takings were expected. What difference makes it to you that I seek something specific?"

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Inera allowed herself a small, vaguely triumphant smile as she fond she had guessed the Dunmer's affiliations correctly. Indeed, her words seemed to at least have hit a mark - no criminal would otherwise divulge as much... information as this one was, now. Certainly not about one's family. "Say that as much as you like, Venim, but I am very certain that with the company you keep with your little guild, or the way you are going about doing such 'noble' things, your ancestors hold nothing but scorn and rage for it all. Lying is excusable. Lying to yourself is not, I've found."

She smiled as the servant girl she'd called for arrived, carrying a platter with a teapot and two cups on it - all very fine-looking indeed, and luckily enough not yet robbed. The Dunmer blinked her eyes at the unfamiliar form of Velyna, whom she most certainly had not seen entering the building at all, and those same red eyes widened only further as she spotted the bag of assorted goods. Putting the platter down on the tea table, she quickly leaned in, whispering to her mistress, but she was quickly dismissed, Inera instead pouring herself a cup of tea, and afterwards filling one for Velyna, too. "Bittergreen," she remarked, "always reminds me of home."

"So," Inera continued, blowing into her cup of hot tea, "they don't know about you in the slightest, hmm? Understandable. If they did, I imagine the consequences for you wouldn't be... enjoyable. So let's make certain they won't have to find out, shall we?" She asked, a threatening tone to her voice by the end of it even as she sipped pleasantly from her tea. "They'd certainly make it so you'd return, whether you want to or not. And come now. My people, as you put it, are making sure yours - House Redoran - stay fed, rather than that they all starve. Especially now, with the Empire in its current state, and having drained Morrowind of so many of its resources."

Again, she sipped from her tea. "Indeed, you could even say that your... noble aspirations are precisely what I am doing here, in the Imperial City, but on a far grander scale. I merely see to it that the Empire pays its due reparations to Morrowind for all the crimes it has committed to our people. Thus, I find it rather curious that your guild of supposed do-gooders opts to target me, of all people. Although I suppose those cat-folk and overgrown lizards that I heard are so numerous among your little organisation have always loathed our people and our homeland. Perhaps that is why. Hmm." The Dres noblewoman rose an eyebrow as she peered at the thief again. "Why, is it that strange I wish to know what specifically this guild of thieves wanted of me? I think it is only fair to ask. After all, if you were in my position, wouldn't you want to know as well? I can assure you, though, that whoever told you such things must've been grossly mistaken. I don't keep large jewels laying around."

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

"I can only imagine you would not- that's why I was still here when you came back. I had to look." She sipped the tea. It was just as it should taste, almost comforting if it weren't for the context in which it was served. Indeed, no amount of homestyle luxury could properly distract Velyna from the cruel situation she found herself in. Placing her cup down, she began once more- "Life is hard. Serious. I simply did what I was told to do. I have observed these same men redistributing taxes, protecting farmers, and giving from their own pocket to beggars. These people helped me when I first found myself in this abominable place, and suddenly I needn't fear the..." she stumbled on her words, "the damned plots and kidnappings and assassins, it was just...gone. I was never the warrior they wanted, but they taught me how to counteract the attempts of my life and get out of tight spots. It fit like a glove." She said, tugging her own gloves a little bit for emphasis.

"With the way I've been trained, I can't imagine you telling anyone would make things any worse. I can just move and hide again. I've no connections, no real connections, that I can't just drop like I did before. Plus, you don't get anything from it. Like I said, the guild will just send someone else to finish the job- whatever happens to me, it doesn't matter." She took another sip of the tea- just as nostalgic as before. "You have your answers, don't you? I can only imagine I've told you anything you'd want to know, and doubly that your knowing of any of it is entirely inconsequential to how the future will play out. Why continue to play with me, other than that it is simply as your kin are wont to do? Do you plan to send me off to some farm in Morrowind? I can't help but notice that, for all the posturing of House Dres, it continues evermore to be as successful as it ever was in the same systems it used to run."

Velyna now waited patiently for the other's response. She expected the worst- a frequent habit of one raised to duty, piety, and gravity. She explained everything that she could think of, and half of it preemptively, for the sake of hurrying things along. This strange woman, Inera, seemed almost too eager to just sit and have a talk. Was she, perhaps, just not a woman of action? Did she actually fear for what Velyna might do? What she could do? There was a host of questions floating around the elf's head, but she dared to ask nearly none of them. They were, ultimately, inconsequential, and indeed she was not entirely sure she wanted to know or to force things to delay any more. If this Inera had a hidden agenda, Velyna wanted it to move ahead soon that she may throw that plan aside in her inevitable grand escape. She just needed the right time to act, that was all.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

"Rather than fearing the assassins and other assorted thugs, you came one of the thugs instead. How poetic." Inera scoffed, going for another careful sip from her bittergreen tea. "Don't think you're special for it. I've survived my fair share of attacks on my life, and yet here I am." The Dunmer placed her cup down on the table, peering at the other again. "Although I seem to be the only one of us two that realizes that the coin they hand over to others doesn't come from their own pockets, but rather from that of other, hard-working people that they robbed. Indeed, they wouldn't have to protect those farmers had they not 'redistributed' the taxes that would finance the pay of the Imperial Legion and the City Watch. Tsk."

Arms resting on her knees, hands folded together, she continued. "Make no mistake. If I wished to send you off to work the farms so that your family can continue to eat the world's finest saltrice, I wouldn't have indulged you as I am now." She tilted her head, eyes narrowed as she studied Velyna's features for anything that would reveal her thoughts. "I will let you go, but you shall deliver a message to your little guild. I shall make it clear that I am aware of the identities of several of your people - important people, one could perhaps say, but then even a skooma-addicted beggar is important in your eyes. Your guild shall not attempt to rob me, or otherwise impair me in any way whatsoever, lest I see to it that their duties are ended. To make this very clear, I am not speaking of telling the City Watch on them. You lot have your contacts in there. If your guild targets me again, it shall be seen to that these individuals are permanently retired."

Calmly, Inera reached for her cup of tea again, for another sip, eyes remaining locked on the Dunmer sat next to her, never once looking away. As she lowered her cup, she continued. "I also have some work for you, if you would. Nothing... too extraordinary, I imagine, for an endeavor such as the one you yourself are a part of. I pay well enough. Enough for you all to happily... feed some more beggars, or whatever it is you think you're doing. There's an item I want recovered. If your little guild accepts, we'll discuss the matter in more detail. I trust I've made myself clear enough for you to understand the message I want you to deliver, then?" Again, she went for her tea, a thin smile plying her lips once more. It was almost like home, truly. Almost. With a hum, she glanced down at her tea for a short moment, before looking back up again. "Did you know that bittergreen, if not prepared properly, is toxic enough to kill? An interesting thing to know about this... delicious tea, wouldn't you say?"

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

"If this brew were toxic, you'd be the first to know," Velyna replied, "seeing as you drank from it well before I did, and your servants have presumably been making it for you for years now. Plus, if you'd wanted me dead, you would've done it by now, particularly when I came within a knife's range of you. Surely you would not fear that I'd fight back, since I gave my weapons over to you in my bag? Or...perhaps I have one hidden? My point is that I suspect you're doing little more than posturing, trying to frighten me or implant some image of control. Manipulation. You forget you're not the only one who has played the game, I just happen to have grown weary of it."

She took a moment to consider the offer presented, a side mission, and spoke out once more- "I am not certain how the guild will respond, especially after your...posturing. They do not take kindly to failure, and take less kindly to losing. They may try again, they may simply cut all ties to this idea and move along. I, however, am curious as to what you might have to say. Elaborate on...what you need done, and I shall, perhaps, consider your offer."

Velyna had no idea what to expect from the other at this point, and worried that she may, perhaps, be dragged back into the mess she'd hoped to leave behind. She also thought over what the other had said- she wasn't just a common thug, was she? Certainly, the guild had a lot more benefit to the downtrodden than any given variant in Morrowind ever did. This was not in question, not even slightly. Despite this, was she just perpetuating a cycle? If the guild was not around, would things be easier for everyone? Or would its absence be more noticeable than ever due to some grandiose ego taking the opportunity to tax the people into space?

That had to be it, right? Yes, she knew well how corrupt the imperial aristocracy could be. It was not in a direct, outward way like in Morrowind. It was not clear and defined. The Imperial corruption was always hidden behind a guise of benefiting someone else, a veil of authority, and a shroud of plausible deniability. That is why the guild existed, it did some bad, but through the means brought a better end than might exist elsewhere. Even still, Velyna might try to take this next quest all on her own. She worked hard, after all- did she not deserve a little private gain now and then? Furthermore, she could assure that just as much of it returned to the poor as she felt proper. Considering that the employer seemed a proud Dres, it would only follow that the pay be quite good.

[Imperialisium]

Elder Council Chambers
White-Gold Tower
Imperial City, Cyrodiil

The proceedings of Lord Salrick's complaints and the Emperor's prompt dismissal of it via magic was noted by the Countess of Anvil. Her husband could not be bothered to attend what he called, "Insolent flippery." Indeed he was else ware in the Imperial City. The Countess had sat silently through the entire ordeal. Bored. Looking out the high arched windows and watching the slow passage of the sun. As the chamber emptied and Lord Salrick was invited to dine with the Emperor, the poor man, the Countess got up and left the chamber. Her escort, several mounted soldiers of the White Guard, assisted her into her carriage and began to trot out of the Imperial Palace district. They would be heading out of the city to the West. It would be a long trip back to Anvil as at this point the lord and lady of Anvil hardly ever bothered to go to the Imperial City unless it coincided with some of their more personal assets.


Talos Plaza District


The true reason for the Count and Countess of Anvil to be present in the Imperial City would be seen in the Talos Plaza District. The Caesarion Counting House was surrounded by an entire company of White Guardsmen. The Imperial Legion patrols in this District where heavier too. Though, unlike the Legionnaires in the Anvil that were more or less on the payroll of House Caesarion, these were of less integrity. Payment was increasingly infrequent and often in kind rather than currency. As such you were more than likely to be pushed around by the Legionnaires and "fined," for something as much as pickpocketed.


The perimeter of pristinely armored and armed guardsmen however would keep such opportunistic individuals at bay. While well clothed house servants loaded heavy chests onto over a dozen carts and carriages. For the past few years the House of Caesarion had been transporting its financial assets from its Imperial City based counting house to the Anvil. Literally hundreds of thousands of pounds of Gold, Silver, jewels, and other valuables entrusted to the counting house by its various clientele. Like the Imperial Purse for example. Had been transported by barge or road to the West under heavily armed guard. Guards on the payroll of House Caesarion. For increasingly Imperial officials and troops could not be reliably counted on to fulfill this duty. Now they were loading the final shipment of liquid assets. The Counting House would still operate. But only in the form of extending credit to clients. Its staff would be skeletal. The rest would be with the caravan back to Anvil.


Count Octavian III of Anvil watched the proceedings. Only a fool wouldn't see the metaphorical crows circling the Emperor and the City. This was pragmatic. The city may become a battleground for various pretenders and claimants one day. If the city were to be sacked the House of Caesarion would be sure to not lose such precious money and valuables in the process. A clerk approached bearing a large ledger. "My Lord, the last of the available assets have been loaded and secured. We are on schedule to depart."


"Excellent. My wife should be passing the to the Western shores of Lake Rumare by now I imagine. Time for us to join her." Octavian turned to a gorgeous young woman next to him. "Are you ready my daughter? I know the only reason you came was to see the city before the inevitable storm came." Valeria looked up to her father, "I still have business at the Arcane University. There are certain works I wish to procure while here."

"Very well. Till we meet again in Anvil my dear." Ever a man of few words her father was. He placed a rough hand on her soft cheek. Leant down, kissed her forehead, and withdrew. A horn blew one note and the Company formed up before, to the side, and rear to the caravan. All mounted on fine black and brown chargers. The banners of House Caesarion aloft. Her father at the head of the column moved down the cobbled streets as the crowds parted. Heading West to enter the outer districts and thence to leave the city. Leaving Valeria with a quartet of Guardsmen and a pair of servants that brought around a white swayback horse. She mounted the horse, riding side saddle, a staff sticking out of a holster on the right side. Her Staff of Conjuration. Forged out of Ebony and enchanted by Archmages from the College of Winterhold. It was a fine magical item. Capable of summoning and sustaining familiars. The two servants bowed and mounted a small carriage that pulled up behind the guards and Valeria. She gave a gentle knicker the small troop sped off towards the Arcane district.

Arcane University
Riding steadily they crossed through the gardens of the Arboretum. Taking about an hour to arrive at the Arcane University. The sheer size and population of the city was incredible. Even to move with speed from one side of the city to the other took time. Hopping down from her white swayback a servant and a Guardsman also dismounted to follow her. The servant bore a small chest while the guard was silent and dour. His shining, polished, plate armor and sheathed sword gripped by his armored hand as they went up the flagstone steps. Entering the place of wonder and magical education. Immiediately, Valeria was greeted by a clerk who recognized her.

"Lady Valeria. Professor Cirio has put together the acquisitions you wished to purchase. Copies of some of our finest magical tomes and lore books painstakingly recorded line by line!" The clerk, a small Imperial woman, seemed to be extraodinarily pleased with the tomes carefully wrapped and placed in a chest on a counter. Its lid open so that as Valeria walked up to it, she could place her hands upon them, and admire their craft. "Send my gratitude to Cirio for the fine craftsmanship of these works. They will make great additions to my collection back in Anvil. I have as promised the payment to the University for this work." Valeria motioned to the servant who brought for the small chest. Placing it on the counter and also closing the lid of the chest with the tomes and carrying it away. The clerk opened the chest she had received in exchange. In it were septims carefully slotted in neat rows. "Everything seems to be in order. I thank you on behalf of the University for doing business with you. A pleasure as always."

Valeria nodded and smiled before turning away with her guard following her closely.

Marketplace District
Valeria's small troops left the University grounds and moved to the Marketplace district. It was crowded and the guards constantly scanned the crowd for signs of trouble. Eventually stopping near one of the numerous inns. Valeria hopped down. Once more a guard and servant followed suit. But as she did so a ragged man came barreling through the crowd and ran smack dab into her! Causing her to fall onto her side in a yelp. Her staff, which she taken from its holster, skidded onto the cobblestones. The ragged man looked back quickly at her, the staff, and snatched it up as her guard drew his sword and made to apprehend him. But the thief was quick and bolted down the crowded street. Cries of THIEF and STOP THAT MAN echoed down the alleyway as her guard gave chase, along with, a burly Nord who seemed to come out of nowhere also knifed through the crowd. Valeria looked at her feet. A small purse, that the man had dropped, she snatched it up. Twenty Septims.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

"Certainly. A good thing that bittergreen tea isn't toxic then, hmm? Come now. I am neither attempting to kill you, nor do I need to show you that i am very much in control here. We are both more than aware of that, I would believe... Tsk. I share some interesting trivia, and this is what I get! Most unbecoming of you, my fellow master manipulator." There was an evident sound of mockery in Inera's words, but she nevertheless calmly resumed working on her tea - just how big were those cups again?

With a scoff, she shook her head at the Dunmer's words that followed. "I care little for how your fellow thug's feel about losing, Venim. I am simply stating that if they try again, I shall see to it that they will pay. It is not a threat, but a simple matter of fact. Likewise, it is a very simple business offer I would extend to them if they can keep their greedy paws off of my things." With a sigh, she placed her cup down, picking up the teapot to go and refill it, offering to do the same with the other's cup, if so desired. "But very well, then. There's a ledger - maybe a few - that I need. I don't care if it's the actual ledger, or a copy of the information I need from it, but I would want every information pertaining to the White-Gold Tower and services provided, there, from it. Should be simple enough, I imagine. Certainly for people as... resourceful as you, no?"

Glancing at her refilled cup, Inera tilted her head, eyes moving back towards the Dunmer thief. "Is this offering you do it yourself, though, rather than your guild? Most curious, I'll say. Is it simple greed, or something else? Do tell me. I love to learn more about people..." Another hum came for her lips. "Indulge me, and I'll even permit you to ask a question or two. Such fun we're having already, wouldn't you say? Anyways," She continued, picking up her cup, "those ledgers. I'd like them. I can give you the specific directions, of course. It's probably for the best you don't know why I have need of them, so I shan't explain that in detail, other than that it is... for the good of us all. I've little nefarious purposes for it, if such would bring you comfort."

Enjoying another sip from her bittergreen, she continued speaking once again. "At the Talos Plaza district, there's a fanciful establishment hosting an assortment of... ladies of the night, as they say. All legal, and a part of their respective guild. I want their ledgers. They'll be kept in an office in the place. There's likely gold and other assorted wealth to be found there as well, but I don't care for that. Ledgers, plain and simple. Considering how much you managed to stuff into this bag of yours, I highly doubt that should be an issue. I will pay, naturally, so..." She glanced at Velyna, waiting for her answer, perhaps curious to see how she would respond to it all.

[Krugmar]

The stench of the area was nauseating, and Salazar's two companions had felt the need to complain of it since the moment they entered. The labyrinth that was the Imperial sewer system was a remarkable place, full of far more than just stagnant water and repulsive refuse. The man bound up and staring at them with panicked eyes was in the mind of Salazar the latter however. The eyes belonged to a Redguard with shortly cropped hair and a distinctive scar running down his right cheek wearing clohes made filthy by his choice of living space.

"I think he wants to speak, Salazar." Said one of his companions, a squat Colovian with a squashed face and an enlarged belly.

Salazar said nothing, his answer. He waded through the room until he reached the nightstand, on which were several notes. He read them intently for several moments before stashing them within his robes. "Brotch, Remove his gag." He said at last. The Colovian obeyed and pulled the ragged piece of cloth from the Redguard's mouth. "I would caution you before you speak. Fail to answer my questions, or divulge what I wish hidden, and you will die very painfully."

"I'll not bandy words with a traitor, Raf-" The Reguard started, his voice muffled by Salazar's hand grasping his jaw. He shouted briefly as he was inelegantly pulled from the bed face first and plunged into the water. His body shook several times until his head was pulled above and allowed a few precious seconds of air before being pushed down again. For one score this continued, until he was pushed back on to the bed.

The faint glint of light from underneath Salazar's hood stared at the man, awaiting his answer. The Redguard used up the last few ounces of his energy to shake his head in defiance, before being harshly dragged down and pushed under again. His legs began to slow and the thrashing became weaker until it stopped completely.

"Take him back to our new quarters and dress him in the fineries I provided. Attach to him some Skooma and old reports to myself, and in the morning you will unexpectedly drag him out of Lake Rumare. Mido will have the honour of his company having found the body of Salazar, and the Legion will pride itself on another job well done."

Brotch nodded, "Help me with him will you Caius?" He said as they grappled with the corpse.

Salazar searched the room but found nothing, this truly had been his last hideout and was the most ill-suited for any staying. What he knew about had either died with him, or was beyond Salazar's reach now. He gazed down at the foul mess beneath his feet, a polluted river running through this sunken city into the jewel of the Empire. Slowly a face began to emerge as the water became clearer. It was not his own but it was all too familiar.

"Father!" Called a voice from a distance. He looked up and found himself in a lavish room set with exquisite banners hiding shining white tiles. He returned his gaze to the font he had been cleaning himself with and saw Mido returning his stare. Though clean of grime he washed his hands again and exited the room.

"You should be with your governess Celia." He sternly replied as he found his daughter alone at the bottom of the stairs and her tutor nowhere in sight. "Miss Valentia's services do not come cheap, and her teaching is invaluable." He lectured.

Naught of what he said got through to the young lady, her look one of mute anger. "You didn't come back last night even though you promised." She said.

Mido sighed, "I wanted to but you know how my business is dear, when something urgent comes up I have to put it right and something very urgent came up."

"What came up?" She pried.

"Just a mistake from the past causing some logistical problems that took the night to solve." He fessed up, "Ah, now here's Miss Valentia who I assume you tricked to come interrogate your poor father. I will be back this evening, Divines will it, and I will make it up to you somehow." He said, watching as the governess escorted her into the private apartments of his estate. He turned and looked up the stairs directly at the family portrait, feeling the gaze of two strangers returned.

With a loud thud and the door behind him, the city was now before him. By luck he had no business in the Waterfront and would be meeting several clients at the Tiber Septim Hotel, a far better, albeit expensive, environment truly.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

"You want me to infiltrate a brothel, and present you with their records on the White-Gold Tower? This should prove....interesting." Velyna stated rather bluntly, assuming a more casual posture than before, "Though I do worry about touching anything in such a place, I shall deliver you copies of what you seek. That way, they will not know anything is even wrong- nothing misplaced or missing, as it were. Sounds like a simple enough operation: in and out."

She hesitated, and took another sip of tea. Would she divulge any more information? Did it even really matter? Velyna had, thus far, been quite forthright with her answers, and indeed very willing to answer whatever queries might be sent her way- there was nothing to hide, really. Honesty was a virtue, after all. With this brief moment of silence, she placed her cup down once more and gave her answer to that asked.

"Yes, I am offering my personal services entirely independent of the guild. They might have little or no real interest in this, to my understanding of them. Furthermore, I cannot guarantee that they would carry through as promised, nor that they'd even be willing to work for one of your status. You might do more damage outing me to them than you would revealing my living self to Morrowind, seeing how they frown upon nobles. If you do, of course, I have other places I could be that won't be necessarily any worse than working for thieves in Cyrodiil," she heaved her chest and gave a great sigh, "And so I would take it upon myself to do so. At any rate, the reward you might offer from it is certainly enticing, and if I take it personally I can see for myself what things I can do from my own heart to the people of the land using it. I'll be able to see tangible proof that what I've signed up for is actually carrying through as intended. There's your answer."

She turned away slightly, avoiding eye contact now as she took another sip of her tea. "As to your motivations, dear, they're not hard to figure out. Knowing how the Great Houses work, and seeing yourself here in Cyrodiil- above all asking me of all people to retrieve information about government offices from a brothel of all places, I don't know if it's even worth calling it a puzzle. You don't care if I bring a copy or the real ledgers so long as it contains the necessary information, and so you cannot be destroying the evidence or censoring anything. This means it is something working in your favor, rather than a correction to some past error. It also means your allies are almost certainly not in it. Really, I can list out every process, or I can simply conclude that you're seeking to gain blackmail-worthy information on your opponents- perhaps to ruin them, perhaps to manipulate them. Very potentially, if my experience serves me well, to manipulate them until no longer needed, and then to ruin them."

"It is not a hard story to piece together." she finished, sipping her tea once more and placing it down on the table daintily.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

"Yes, that is precisely what I'm asking you to do, here. Good job. You managed to listen. Commendable, truly." With a loud sigh, Inera placed her cup of tea down on the table once again, leaning back into her chair. "If you worry about touching anything in places like this, I can assure you that it is cleaner than those sewers your... types like to dwell in. So no need to fret about that, I would think. It should indeed be simple enough."

Drumming with her fingers on the edge of her chair, she waited impatiently for the Dunmer to continue. "Well, the reward you'll receive will certainly allow you to do... whatever it is you desire to do with your gold. Give it to the poor, I suppose. If the information actually proves to be accurate and useful I may add something on top of it. ...do make sure that it actually is the correct information, would you? I would be terribly displeased if you provided me with... inaccurate information, or something you just came up with yourself." She gave Velyna a warning look. "You wouldn't like me when I'm displeased. People generally don't. Aware of how to slip out, or how the politics of Morrowind work or not, it wouldn't turn out well for you. You may very well consider that a warning, if you would. Don't try to double-cross me."

Inera pursed her lips, eyeing the other as she continued, speculating on her motivations. Accurate enough, certainly, but she wondered as to why the other Dunmer was looking away, avoiding eye contact. "Very good. Although perhaps I simply want a proper reminder of all sorts of hazy trips I may have made there...?" Leaving that question up in the air for a moment, she quietly ran her finger across the edge of her teacup, stood on the table, still. "Although you'd be correct, mostly, of course. I generally don't do errors, so there's nothing to be corrected, there. Worship of the Webspinner is terribly unsuited to any public establishments within the City, as I'm sure you'll understand. As I said. Anything on dealings with the White-Gold Tower. Noble's estates. Anything belonging to the Emperor himself..." She tilted her head, eyes narrowed a little. "I'm sure you can figure out yourself what is of use and what isn't, if you're choosing to copy it, rather than steal the ledgers themselves and bringing them to me. Any information from the past... say, two or three years should be of use."

"My motivations, of course, go far beyond my own profit from it all. Far, far beyond it. Like you claim to do what you do for the sake of the poor and the downtrodden, I do what I do for the good of our homeland. Perhaps that thought may comfort you well enough, knowing that you are about to perform a service for all of Morrowind." She gave the thief a warning look, then. "Should you get caught, however, I advice you to highly recommend you do not name me whatsoever. If you seek to implicate me, I can more than easily deny any involvement whatsoever, and I can have you disappear faster than you can say 'Boethian bloodsports'." Inera stared at the other. In her experience, it had always been better to make it very clear just what was at stake for themselves, should they cross her, with these types.

Following that, she climbed up from her chair, sighing as she pulled Velyna's bag with her, beginning to take her things out of them, carefully laying down a few dresses on a nearby couch. "Were you going to try to wear these...?" She asked out aloud, before quickly muttering an addition to that. "...I don't think they'd suit you at all. Hmm." Brows furrowed, she peered at the blade she pulled out, next. "Fancy. Not mine, though."

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

"Some of that is mine, I'll have you know." she said, seemingly quite displeased with the haphazard way it had all been simply dumped. A couple dresses were identifiable, and these she snatched back for herself within a moment's notice. Velyna had, evidently, been quite prepared for several changes of clothing. Some poorer clothes of the local style were intermixed alongside fancy Dunmeri dresses that one could only assume she had brought from home. In being such, they were, perhaps, the last true connection she had to the life she had once known, and thus these dresses, which she so carefully cared for and kept well
maintained, were priceless treasures, relics and souvenirs of a bygone era.

"I couldn't leave home empty-handed. As terrible as my life choices may have been, I'm not a s'wit." she followed, giving the woman opposite her a certain look that begged a simple question- she seemed to be patiently waiting. Once she had been handed her bag back, she carefully placed the dresses back within, observing one for a moment and considering what value there might be in changing soon. After placing it back in with the rest, she sifted through the dumped pile for her own belongings, including the fancy dagger that Inera had admired. In went a good twenty feet of rope, a few spare items of clothing, a hook, some lockpicks, a few caltrops which Velyna picked up and placed extremely carefully in a bag, then placing the bag into her carrying bag. Really, a large assortment of tools of the trade.

"May I ask, then," Velyna began, looking over one of her own dresses, clearly contemplating it for the moment. It was of the classic Dunmeri style, the general appearance thereof at the very least. She appeared to already be wearing some of the accessories that would go with it, items that are out of place beyond a Dunmeri context, such as her long gloves and, if Inera had been paying attention to her feet for whatever gods-forsaken reason, her boots. Velyna forgot to ask her question momentarily, considering her plan of infiltration- not breaking into what was sure to be a well-crowded place to sit for a prolonged period in one place while she copied records, but instead to dress up potentially as someone who might actually belong there. Someone of status, perhaps an overseer or perhaps a customer. That way, if she was found in the meantime, she could have easily plausible excuses- and furthermore she could simply walk out the front door when done. Nice, all nice, really.

"May I ask, in turn for my answering your questions thus far both preemptively and in due turn, just two things of you? Firstly, what exactly do you mean when you say that you benefit Morrowind as a whole, instead of just Dres or your personal connections otherwise? Secondly, how am I to be sure you are not planning to cross me? For all your posturing about how bad an idea it would be for me to do so to you, what assurance have I that you won't turn on me the moment you have what you want? I think that is as reasonable a question as can be asked, really."

With this statement done, she stood up likewise and held up the dress, a sort of cheap look at how it might appear on her. "Is there a place for changing nearby? I tire so greatly of dressing as if I were still trying to hide from something, it'd be nice to simply be myself for once."

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

"Tsk," she remarked, "bringing your own stuff to a robbery? Hmm. I suppose I don't quite recognize some of this as what I would wear. Not at all... Very well then." Taking a step backwards, Inera folded her hands behind her back, waiting patiently as she allowed for the other to take her own things from among the pile of her possessions. Of course, she kept a close eye on the proceedings, making sure the Dunmer wouldn't sneakily take anything that didn't belong to her with her. "I'd argue that you're still a s'wit. A life of crime never pays, in the end, no matter what the fanciest thug tells you, or whispers into your ear."

"Although one wonders what other awful choices you've made in your life as of yet?" She tilted her head, watching as one by one, a whole variety of thieves' tools were brought together and stuffed back into that bag she had emptied only moments before. Her assessment, that of Velyna quite possibly being a s'wit, was only confirmed when the thief asked her a question - or rather, asked if she could ask something, without following it up. "Well...?" She asked of her, expectantly and somewhat impatiently, brows furrowed a little. Was she truly so enraptured by her own possible attire? Ridiculous. At least some of the items she was wearing would fit in well enough with that dress. The thief wouldn't look like a jester, then. That was good. She had always loathed jesters so. "...if there is anything you wanted to ask, do tell?"

She hummed at the question that followed, moving back to sort through some of her own things as she explained. "Why, it's very simple, really. The money I manage to get sent to Morrowind doesn't exactly go to me personally, now does it? Indeed, the gold sent to Mournhold or Blacklight, for example, will never even as much as the hands of House Dres. Of course, I'm ensuring that plenty is dispatched for Tear as well, but... well. Someone has to make sure Morrowind stays fed, no? It would be disastrous if the plantations and fields would remain unattended, and food would have to be imported from other lands. I'm sure the Redoran deep inside of you can appreciate just how much of a risk growing your own food during these times prevents. Of course, with the abolition of slavery some two decades ago, workers have been harder to come by, and acquiring those requires... gold. And so it is that I see to it that for once the Empire does its duty and actually aids Morrowind, rather than drains it of its resources. It is relatively simple. I wouldn't claim that Morrowind stays fed because of me, that Vvardenfell is being rebuilt, and that the Redoran guard are paid thanks to me, but I am very much doing my part in it all. Our homeland is far too big for all of that gold to go just to people I know, dear, so fret not."

An amused smile appeared on Inera's lips at the other question, however. "How can you be sure that I'm not planning to double cross you? Why, I am a Dunmer of my word, of course. A reasonable question, certainly, but I highly doubt I can give you anything more than just my word as it is. Make no mistake - everything is very much stacked in my favor, here. I will not give you any false assurances that should further convince you that I am not intending to double cross you. Perhaps you should see that as me, again, speaking truthfully. You have my word, but that is also all I can give you. Such is the nature of this situation, here, if I am to continue to remain truthful to you now."

She raised an eyebrow at the last question, picking up several of her own dresses and holding them over one arm, and grasping some jewelry with the other. "Hmm? Oh. The library, I suppose. You've been there." Her eyes narrowed a little at that. "Up the stairs. Leave your bag here. I'll return these things to where they're supposed to go while you do that..." Giving a nod in the direction of the staircase, she waited for Velyna to go first. She'd know the way, evidently.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Velyna nodded, grabbed her dress, and made her way to the library. She had some recollection of how to get there, not strong but strong enough to find her way once more without stumbling too much on the precise details of her path. After arriving, she quickly ducked behind a corner and began changing as fast as she could. It was only but a couple of moments before she emerged once more, fully dressed and holding her previous attire in her arms. The blue Dunmeri dress she wore well complimented her red hair, and hugged her form fairly. The skirt, though not exactly flared, gave her more than enough room for full mobility and walking capabilities- more than could be said about the costume of some other cultures.

As she began walking, she was already in the process of lacing up the midsection. One might call it a corset, and would be quite correct in calling it such, but a fine distinction appeared in that it was, rather than an accessory, a necessary part of the dress. Pulling the strings, tying, pulling, tying, it was repetitive work, and in a few minutes, most certainly by the time she finally found Inera once more, she had finished the process, the midsection of the dress now tight against her own. Brushing a few locks of hair away with her hand, Velyna heaved her chest- covered in black leather which extended upwards from the corset, past her chest, and hugged the base of her neck and her shoulders as straps, leaving a little peek hole to her chest which, from most angles, was still entirely modest- and she sighed contentedly. It was quite nice to be back in her old costume, especially since opportunities to wear it were so rare.

Looking to her new business partner, "Does it look alright? It certainly has been a while..." The faintest smile played at her lips, a sense of comfort such as she had not really felt in perhaps years. A familiarity, as it were. Some deep-seated programming from her youth, perhaps. "R-right." she diverged, "In any case, I'll take your word this time, even if doing so for one who prefers spinning webs might be said to be unwise, because you've a lot to lose if you do betray me, and little to gain other than smug satisfaction- overall, a smug satisfaction that would be quite fleeting as I worked my way out of the situation such a betrayal might set up. For this much consideration, I believe we may be able to work together after all."

Taking her bag as soon as she could, Velyna placed her thieving attire within and performed a little bow before heading off. She stopped a few steps later- "If you've anything left to say now, anything more to ask, do so. Once I leave, I may not reliably be in contact for quite some time, at least the better part of a day or two." She gave this offer- only to be met with a refusal. All that needed to be said was, evidently, and so Velyna calmly took her leave. Her new walk, in her formal attire, was confident and elegant. Graceful. It showed the years, over a decade total, of grooming that had gone into her with every beautiful and gentle movement she made, fluid and weightless. Now, perhaps it was not so hard to picture her as the Redoran noblewoman she once was, and the alternate path that might've been.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Inera, on the other hand, was far more slow and methodical as she went about putting her things back, placing her jewelry back in a few jewelry boxes, and her dresses back in a closet. Blasted thief. Still, she could prove to be of use, at least. That was good. Indeed, if she'd do just as told... that'd be very good. She was lucky that she was Dunmer, in the end. Had she been anything else, she wouldn't have offered her this opportunity. Of course, some would call that racist - but Inera Heran knew better. These were simple, common sensibilities. A Dark Elf from Morrowind, at least, would have some sort of understanding of... all of this that she was doing. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair. Tonight could've gone worse, at least. At worst, she'd never hear from the Dunmer again, but still had her things. At best, she'd get precisely what she wanted and could well find herself a new employee while at it.

As she heard footsteps approaching, the Dunmer councilor turned around, in time to see the thief approaching, putting the finishing touch on her attire. She seemed to be somewhat relieved, perhaps, to walk around in some proper Dunmeri clothing, rather than the uniform of a band of Cyrodiilic thugs - which made sense, of course. Any normal person would be. She raised an eyebrow at the question that followed, before peering at the other, from top to bottom and back up again, lips pursed. "It'll do, certainly," she told Velyna dryly, "you could fit in well enough back in Morrowind like that. Fancy enough to not make you look like you're one of the poor. Which you most certainly -don't- want to look like, I can assure you."

She handed the bag over towards the other Dunmer as she listened to her. Inera shook her head. "You've no other choice than to take my word for it, really. You do underestimate just how much I enjoy the feeling of some smug satisfaction, but I shall very much keep my word, as promised. You do this for me, and I pay you. Most simple." She watched, standing with her hands folded in front of her lap, as the thief packed her bag with her uncomely armor. "No, no, that would be all," she told her, "do be on your way. Avoid talking to me in public. As you'll understand, I can't pretend to know you in the middle of the street, no matter how fancily dressed you are. Do take care." With everything said and done, and the thief going on her merry way - without any of Inera's things, and preferably to do the task given to her - she slowly shook her head, moving towards her office. The paperwork she'd brought with her wasn't going to fill itself in anytime soon, and there were still letters that had to be sent. It would be a long, long night...

Unfortunately for Inera, it would also be an early morning. Finding herself waking up regrettably early, a letter would soon arrive, right as she was enjoying her breakfast of the day. Quickly washing her bread away with some of that delicious bittergreen tea, she started reading, brows furrowed as what she had predicted would happen had indeed proven to be true. The Breton Lord Salrick was now very much the late Lord Salrick. Apparently, he had fallen off of the top of the White-Gold Tower in some sort of drunken stupor. Or so it said there, in the letter - undoubtedly the official account that her source had been given. It was more likely that he had been thrown off of the Imperial Palace. Azura knew what their glorious Emperor was up to when he was drunk late at night. She wondered how they even knew it was the late Breton lord, considering the height of the White-Gold Tower. All of it screamed 'impromptu execution' rather than 'unfortunate accident'. This was what to expect of their Nibenese ruler, she supposed. Still, with any luck, she could perhaps catch the man's grieving widow... Yes. That would be the best thing to do for the moment. She nodded to herself. That was decided, then.

Dressing in a simple, black Dunmeri dress, she ventured towards the Temple District, where according to the letter the man's body was kept. Accompanied by her guard, Inera arrived at the supposed mortuary and was let inside - even if her guards weren't. Not that that mattered. It'd be best they weren't present, anyways. Too intimidating, and they could hear things they might not like - or that she'd rather they simply did not know. These men were loyal to the Empire, after all, and only to her second. Inside was exactly what she had thought she would find, and what she had hoped to find. Presented as neatly as possible lay the crushed body that had only a day ago been Lord Salrick, and by it, crying, stood his widow. Putting on the saddest look she could muster, Inera carefully stepped forward, and waited. Eventually, the Breton lady, aging like her husband had up until recently been, noticed her, sniffling as she fought back her tears, but failing to actually manage to say anything.

Instead, the Dres noblewoman spoke for her, stepping closer again, slowly. "My lady," she began, carefully placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, "I am so terribly sorry..." She lowered her gaze as the Breton looked at her, frowning, tears rolling down her cheeks, still. "To think but less than a day ago, we were talking, speaking of ways to improve the Empire, still, only now to find him... here. Again, my lady, I am so sorry..." She let out a mournful sigh, her eyes peering at Salrick's body. "It seems so uncharacteristic of him to end up doing something like this... I hope you would forgive me, my lady, but I would almost call it... suspicious." No response came, other than the Breton lady resuming her crying, eventually starting to sob against Inera's shoulder as she offered a comforting arm. Her eyes locked on the body, still, a slight smile appeared on her face. He hadn't died in vain, at least. Quite the opposite, even...

[New Finnish Republic]

Einar "Red Beard" Kjisorssen
Imperial City, Cyrodill
Marketplace District

---

Standing in the bustling streets of the Imperial City, Einar couldn't help but be amazed at the pure size of what surrounded him. It was his first time within the capital, and as a mere warrior from the town of Whiterun in his homeland of Skyrim, it was a sight to behold for sure. What further amazed him was the pure amount of different kinds of people who surrounded him. Nords, Imperials, Beast-People, and even Elves strolled about doing business with one another, trading both goods and culture with every purchase. While he much preferred the quiet and peaceful life of his birthplace, he had to admit that it was a bit exciting.

However, excitement didn't always mean something Einar wanted, as was the case when he suddenly felt a hand slide by his belt, immediately followed by a familiar wait at his hip suddenly disappearing. With a shout, he turned around, only to find the thief of his coin purse to have already sprinted away from him. Cursing, he began to chase after the man, pushing his way through the crowd with relative ease as most citizens knew better than to get in the way of an enraged Nord, especially one as large as Einar.

Even with his long strides, he had trouble keeping up with the thief. For looking as meek as he did, the man was certainly quick on his feet, easily dodging in and out of traffic that clogged up the busy streets. The man had almost escaped his sight when suddenly he barreled into what appeared to be a noblewoman, snatching a staff from her as he did. The noblewoman's guards quickly went in pursuit, but they too seemed to be unable to keep up with the man.

Seeing an opportunity to escape, the thief bolted into a nearby alleyway, no doubt planning on using the maze of corridors to sneak away. The guards chased after him, with Einar in close pursuit, but it soon became clear that the thief had already disappeared into one of the several different smaller alleyways that dotted the main one. The guards cursed out loud as they skidded to a halt, visibly angered that they had failed to protect their mistress. They began to try and formulate a means of searching for the thief, but Einar knew that such an act was only wasting time.

Barreling past them, he scanned for any sign that would lead him to the location of where the thief had disappeared to. After a few seconds, he noticed a gate that had been slightly cracked open. While it was impossible to know for sure, it was the only clue he had, and so he burst through the gate.

Much to his surprise as well as the thief's, Einar found the man at the end the alleyway. He seemed to be counting the coin he had unlawfully procured as well as was taking a long look at the staff in his hands, which no doubt would bring a fat lump of coin based on the quality of it. The man let out a shocked gasp as he saw the Nord charging towards him, turning around to look for an escape route only to find that he was at a dead end.

With no other options, the man pulled out a meager iron dagger, wobbly pointing it at the oncoming Nord. It was clear that the man had little to no experience wielding the weapon, and Einar took well advantage of this when he finally got within reach. Reaching out with one hand, he grasped at the wrist of the thief, directing the blade away from his body, before continuing to charge straight into the thief. The impact sent the thief flying into the wall, knocking all the wind out of his lungs and causing various coins and goods to fall out onto the ground below.

Picking the man up with a single hand, Einar was about to finish him off with a punch when he noticed that the man was already unconscious. He couldn't tell if it had been from the impact or the sheer fright that the man surely had, but regardless it was far from fulfilling of an ending for Einar. With a frustrated grunt, he tossed the man aside to the ground and looked at the riches below. For a brief moment, he considered snatching it up for himself, as there was more than enough here to ensure a comfortable life in the capital for quite some time. However, Einar knew that while although he may kill others for a living, he still had standards that he would abide by. He understood such an act would be seen as dishonorable to both his ancestors as well as Talos, and thus left the other riches alone.

Searching for his own purse, his eyebrows furrowed as he was unable to find it within the heap of treasure. Had he dropped it when he hit that noblewomen from before? He thought to himself as he glanced at the staff now laying on the ground below. After a few hesitant moments, he picked the staff up, admiring the quality that it clearly possessed. It was made of ebony, a material Einar knew as something not easy nor cheap to come by. While he wasn't familiar with magical items, as he himself was completely inept at the magical arts, he could tell that this was something that in the right wielder's hands could be very powerful indeed. Why a noblewoman was carrying such an item was beyond his belief, the only thing he could think of is that it was more of a decoration.

The sound of metal boots slamming against the ground reached his ears signaled that the guards had finally made their way here. A few moments later, a guard appeared from the gate.

"We've found the thie-"

The man's voice cut short at the sight of Einar standing above the now unconscious thief. Einar could tell from the man's eyes that there were a thousand questions going through his head, but the man seemed to put them all aside as he merely turned back to beckon the rest of the guards who warily eyed the Nord before them. From the looks of them, Einar had no doubt these were capable soldiers, that much could be seen. Thus, Einar wasted no time in ensuring that he didn't end up dead in the alley thanks to a misunderstanding. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. His accent clearly marked him a Nord native to Skyrim, his words coming out much harsher than what usually was heard within these parts of Tamriel.


"Your thief decided he'd rather take a little nap before facing the consequences of his actions, so I'm afraid I wasn't able to do much to teach him a lesson. However,"

He held out the staff towards the nearest guard.

"I believe your lady would like to have her staff back. I might have lost my purse thanks to this man, but there's no reason that your lady should be deprived of her property as well."

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Velyna walked with purpose down the street, making her quiet leave from the building. She knew her target, her mission, and had a good few ideas for infiltration as well. Only a couple of things had to be done first, and to these she moved with haste. Reaching the lovely little loft she had come to call home, nothing especially fancy but still a space all her own, she dumped out a few things. She left behind her armor, some dresses, and her weapons, and filled the remaining space with utensils to copy the ledgers she had set out to attain. With this much done, she waited for a few moments, plotting out strategies in her head. It was not long before the sky was dark enough to head out. Although it was already somewhat late in the day when she had arrived at her dwelling, those extra moments of time had all but ensured the staff would be too busy to notice someone rooting through their ledgers.

Setting out once more, with a cloak to try to keep herself more obscure, she traveled the streets with determination. It was an embarrassing determination, one that was leading her to a high-class whorehouse to steal information about their clients, but it was something and, moreover, it was something guaranteed to actually do good. Velyna had so long neglected and rejected the life that she'd left behind in Morrowind, but maybe a taste of the old days was just what she needed? There was only one way to tell, and at the very very least she could assure that whatever Inera had planned for this whole mess would not be an overall negative.

Entering into the Talos Plaza district, the snootiest part of the city, and possessing for Velyna an uncanny valley between the class and sophistication of her noble birth and the oddity and alien nature of the Outlanders. She looked to the various tall buildings at every angle, and the statue in the middle straight down the road. She walked carefully, gently, observing every nook and cranny for anyone who might be trailing. It was in her programming to do so. It was this way for a good few minutes until she reached the brothel- identifiable from the obscene perfumes wafting out from every orifice of the building. It would be helpful, actually, in identifying an opening alternative to just waking in through the front door and hoping nobody stops her from finding what she needs to find.

Ducking into the alleyway and towards the back, Velyna pulled from her bag the length of rope she carried everywhere. Tying one end to the hook, she spun it around a couple of times and let it fly towards the roof. Catching on the raised ledge which outlined the roof, she yanked and wiggled it into a secure place. Mustering all her strength, considering that she was not particularly strong to begin with- a fact she blamed on her lack of classic Redoran warrior training from her parents- she used whatever leverage she could get. Finding it much easier to climb in a shimmying fashion up the rope, using the occasional slight protrusion as a stool, she did so instead of walking up the side of the building. It was slower, but more sure in its effect by far.

Now on the roof, she untied the rope. Couldn't leave it dangling, after all! Following this, she summoned her might to pull the hook from its location, and managed with a lot of wiggling to do so. She now stood atop the roof tiles of the building, and by scent alone could find a potential window opening for her to climb through. Trailing it to the best of her ability, she carefully climbed down and through the window, landing soft on a carpet. Using her stealthy style of walking, toes first and shifting weight, she navigated the halls, dodging around corners whenever footsteps were heard nearby, and in no time at all found the room containing all the records. It was locked, of course it was. It was never so easy as just walking in.

Slipping a lockpick from her bag, she slid it smoothly into the lock. Filling the hole, she deftly maneuvered the shaft up and down, back and forth, feeling out the insides. She toyed with it some, poking at the parts and letting them come back down again from their risen state. Her gentle touch had found the sweet spot, and so she slid her shaft in once more and, with it pointing up and slightly to the left, gave a good push. She did it again, and again, each time getting deeper and deeper until, at last, came release. The target opened up with but a little squeak, and Velyna felt satisfied with her work.

Pushing the door open a little, and closing it behind her, she scoured the area. Finding every piece she could on the nobility of the realm, and particularly the current emperor, she recorded each one in painstaking detail, down to even copying the handwriting as best she could. While Velyna had considered using 'invisible ink'- in reality a concoction of fruit juice that would only be visible if placed near to a fire, she figured that her needs were much greater served by something she could actually see and read when copying.

Satisfied with the results, she stuffed them back into her bag, deep as she could. The next part of the plan was to simply walk out the front door, having spent no money to get in and having been under no supervision, this would be the easiest means of escape. People come and go all the time, after all, and in the worst case scenario she can say that she simply got lost on her way out, at which point she'd be escorted away. In fact, being escorted out was also the only real punishment that this establishment could inflict! Really, it was the best solution for every line of logic.

Exiting through the same door, Velyna closed it and began her cheery walk away. Wandering the upper floor, she appreciated the fine decoration of the private space. Even the perfume was starting to grow on her. Finding the stairs, she took each step with a slight bit of merriment- it was a job well done, and one that would pay well. There were no signs that anything was amiss, so long as nobody checked her bag. Of course, she suspected nobody would. She'd never been to this establishment before, and soon found herself dead wrong when, at the turn of a corner, she bumped into one of the ladies of the night.

"Terribly sorry, Miss" the lady offered, "Are you lost back here?"

Velyna waited for a moment, thinking through her response, "Yes, actually, I was just looking for the way t-"

"What's in your bag?" asked the lady, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence.

"Oh, nothing, really." Velyna passed off, a dismissive yet defensive tone of voice.

"No need to be ashamed, dear. We don't judge around here..." the lady replied, approaching her.

"It's nothing, rea-"

"What's i- Oh my..." the lady gasped, looking in, "You brought your own rope?"

"What do you-"

"I always heard of the tales from Morrowind, I should've known when I saw you!"

"I really do-"

Velyna had forgotten that the top layer of her bag was the grappling hook. She had earlier neglected to shove this beneath more innocuous items, a decision she might well come to regret in the coming moments.

"What of this hook? Does this go-"

"NO!" she yelled, "Absolutely do not put that thing in....anywhere. Please."

"Right, right, you're the boss Ma'am. Now..." she prostitute collected the rope and approached Velyna, "Let us begin as you paid for. Specialized rooms are in the back."

The following morning

Velyna exited the brothel, rubbing her lower back. She felt as if she had slept in entirely the wrong position, which she may well have done. One thing cannot be denied, their cushions were indeed quite comfortable. Their thematic persistence was quite genuine to Morrowind as Velyna remembered it, and the lushness of decor and comfort had to be part of it one supposed. In any case, perhaps sleeping with lumbar support for a few nights might help cure this ailment. In the meantime, Velyna had a job to do. She proudly limped her way toward the estate she had attempted to rob but one night earlier, and knocked upon the door- only to be informed that she should head to the manor well beyond the city walls.

"Lovely," was all that the Dunmer managed to muster before heading off to an entirely new direction. In due time, she would arrive there. Until then, however, she could appreciate seeing the light of day once more. Some burden on her soul felt, for the moment, lifted- some past weight on her heart had been well removed. All in all, it seemed like a nice day to be around, and a nice day to deliver blackmail.

[Zanera]

Ra'zasha Kolmik
Rihad, Hammerfell
Breton Ghetto
Later Fredas

---

After getting some lunch Ra'zasha went to the most notable ghetto in the city, that of the Bretons. Some might be regular migrants from High Rock, regular people that no longer had interest in the overwhelming political intrigues of their homeland. Ra'zasha would get nothing useful from them, they were likely slackers of little note to their former lords and would have no worthy connections. However there may be a few wealthy Bretons with small manors trying to maintain the novelty of "being with their own people" even though a Breton noble would probably never even glance at a Breton beggar. There would be Bretons here that would have lived here for generations, perhaps, and they would have connections even if they were not of Ra'zasha's interests.

Shuffling through the quarter yielded a gate to a manor of High Rock design. A drab stone-cobble wall with windows framed in wood of a soft brown, that was overhung by another story of white walls crisscrossed with timber with its own windows that was all topped off with grey but lively roof tiles. Out of raised stone boxes of fertile dirt against the manor wall grew grape vines that grew up the stone wall. The garden was full raised stone boxes of all sorts of vegetables, and a small fountain in the middle spurted water with a brown tint. There was a Redguard woman quietly tending the garden. The whole thing was very serene, until a fat Breton man and a large Redguard woman burst out of the front door, nearly shattering it and yelling back and forth about a failed venture, with the Breton practically frothing at the mouth. Ra'zasha listened very little to what they were saying, trying to remain calm and to keep a straight face. The Redguard woman noticed Ra'zasha, looking him up and down before stalking away with her nose in the air.

The fat Breton walked out of the gate and looked after the storming woman before looking up and down at Ra'zasha himself, asking "What are you doing standing outside my gate, cat?"

"Ra'zasha is looking to do business with the lord of this manor," Ra'zatha stated before the man and he looked to find the Redguard woman turning around a corner, now gone. The man turned around again, asking "What kind of business, Khajit? What are you up to?"

"Ra'zasha just wanted to inquire about any connections a fine Breton such as yourself may have. Er, preferably connections in Sentinel or Anvil."

"My business with Anvil has been chopped down to a quarter since 4E 9. Too many damn pirates. Same thing with Sentinel, except down to a 1/3 and shrinking because my men can't be arsed to trek that far. Spending a few minutes out in this heat and I already don't blame them. Come in, you obviously want to talk big business."

They both went inside into a dusky opening room with a set of shelves holding things from books to figurines to potted plants, with a table with a tea tray on it and two chairs. There was a carpet with a stylized landscape of what Ra'zasha assumed was High Rock, and a well-worn rug on the floor that still maintained its edges though it was roughshod through the middle from grinding, coarse sand. "You know, I've started growing away from tea. My father always forced himself to drink it in the Breton spirit, but sometimes he settled down for some business with coffee. Around here, that's usually Rihad Qishr. That's the traditional coffee in this city. Uses a bit of ginger. I'll call for my servant to make some while we introduce ourselves. We'll sit right there."

They walked over and sat at the tea tray table as the Breton called for his servant, a younger Redguard woman, to brew some coffee. "My name is Gustav Edmund. My family has been here for six generations, long enough to become bona fide Redguards, but we remain in the ghetto to remind us of our roots. Well, we could probably do better over all if we lived where the other wealthy families lived, since our little manor is out of everyone's way, but the novelty of being Bretons in Hammerfell never seems to wear off. Besides, adobe houses make me feel like I'm fully immersed in the desert and I start to sweat my ass off!"

"Ha! I used to live in southern Elsweyr, hot as can be. I went to the Imperial City, in the summer, yes? Ra'zatha thought it was a little cold, then winter came and Ra'zatha's snout never stopped running, and I had to bound myself in furs! I am Ra'zatha Kolmik, a Suthey-raht khajit from the streets of Senchal, a merchant with business assets from Senchal to the Imperial City to possibly Rihad in Hammerfell! Ra'zatha trusts you know Rihad?"

"Yes, and I know a few contacts in Anvil and some in Sentinel. Anvil is protected my wealthy people, but aside from the local waters you'll be hard-pressed to find safe waters elsewhere. Are you sure you want me to even bother naming names from there?"

"Ra'zatha is quite sure. Preferably those of wealth, and even some prominent street merchants, if you will."

"Very well. Ah, our coffee has arrived! Please, taste it," the Breton exclaimed, gesturing to the cups. Ra'zatha lifted it to his mouth and sipped, and liked what he tasted. It was kind of tangy for coffee, but it was something new that Ra'zasha thought he could drink regularly in time. He almost forgot to comment on the flavor," Ah, Ra'zasha has never tasted a coffee like this. Perhaps I can get the recipe from you?"

"I'll have Aleen write a copy of it for you. Anyway, my contacts in Anvil may or may not be where they were when I knew them. Jurdain Holoman, a warehouse manager that I was in good with that would store my material at a soft discount. We'd play cards and bet seashells, and sometimes I'd let him win when there was a beauty on the table, since his wife liked seashells. She was an ill lady. Nice man, knew them both personally. Knew a couple nobles strictly through business. One, ran a ship repair service, named Toolius Manimus. I bet that salty landlubber's rich as hell now. Another, was a middleman to a lot of the markets in Anvil, a lucrative position in a port city, named Jerald Olf. Knew a few merchants but Divines knows where those fishy bastards are now. What do you want to do with Anvil, anyway?"

"I am looking for a source of spices at the moment. Ra'zasha has something tomorrow morning. If I secure the spices, I already have a ship here in Rihad to take them down to Anvil with. Ra'zasha is fully aware of the pirates, but then again Ra'zasha's crew is former pirates. They will manage themselves, especially since I will be on board the first voyage to take spices to Anvil. The city is an outlet with the riches of sea trade. Ra'zasha plans on bringing my spices to one of the best markets in Cyrodiil. Colovia may be a mess, but Anvil is its own city with its own secured land. The economy will be relatively stable there."

"This is sound theory, the thing that can disturb it is a warlord taking Anvil, and the thing to destroy it is piracy. A warlord, I suppose, wouldn't want to disturb the economy more than they have to, since I imagine the only reason they'd take the city was because of the sea trade that could greatly benefit them. Unless they take it for the sake of taking it because they're more boneheaded than an orc. Hmph. Pirates, they care for your product insofar as to take it. Pirates are the wildest card on the table, and the difference between winning and losing. I have some muscle left over from a failed mining operation. You saw my associate in that endeavor on her way out the gate. I'd be willing to invest money and legitimate swords in your endeavors for a cut of the profits."

Ra'zasha stroked his chin and sat back. He supposed that there were some gaps in his workforce that he had to fill in. Some muscle to load and unload the cargo and some swords to help keep pirates at bay. Investment would help fund everything, and if this Breton knew what he was doing, he could even become the manager of his operations in Rihad and Anvil. "I will come by later tomorrow. Considered Ra'zasha's hand halfway extended. If Ra'zasha gets the cargo, we have a deal."

"Sensible enough. You're not conning me, Khajit, you want legitimate coin," said the Breton man, both he and Ra'zasha standing up just as his servant Aleen arrived with a small piece of parchment with the coffee recipe on it. "Ah, there you go. You'll enjoy that brew!"

"Yes I shall. It was nice doing halfway business with you," assured Ra'zasha, moving to shake hands but moving his hand back before it could be shaken. "I see what you did there, Ra'zasha. Hopefully we can close the shake next we meet!"

Ra'zasha smiled and nodded, leaving the manor.

[Negarakita]

Lladnea Mevrothi
Arlovo's Carriage
Travelling to the Imperial City from Cheydinhal

---

Weariness, since she had been a mere ten years old, had been the sole companion whose presence Lladnea could always rely on, its soft fingers caressing her hair as it promised her a new life, far from the hunger and pain of this one. At first, she ran willingly to it, embracing sleep as a way to escape the fears and demons of her life on the road. But, as the worries piled up and her fiscal situation grew direr, she found that he was not the benevolent companion he had once been. For every night, once she slipped into his embrace, the worries resurfaced. At least in the world of hunger and pain, there was always a hearth within a day's walk to warm herself, or a kind stranger to give her the last of his bread, or even a sleeping traveller whose possessions she could borrow before slinking off into the night. With sleep, the only solace was the promise that the sun should come again, even this not being a certainty. She had seen many fellow travellers, their corpses to be more precise, lying with their throats cut by bandits at the side if the road. A part of her heart always went out to them, as she too could easily be in their situation.

But empathy had little currency on the road. Despite her feelings of sorrow and moral inclinations not to steal, let alone ransack the corpse of someone who had died the night before, needs must. They have no use for it now, anyway, she told herself in an effort to quash the inevitable return of the corpse's face when she surrendered herself to sleep again, but she knew it was like trying to talk a mountain into moving. By now, the greater part of her possessions had been acquired in this way. Her clothing was a ragged leather tunic lifted from the corpse of a woodcutter's wife that still bore the puncture where an arrow had pierced it, her rough trousers from a traveller who met a similar end. The purse she carried her valuables in was hers, its once fine leather beaten and bruised like its owner, but the contents were not. Coins were easy to come by; whether they were gifted by the kindness of strangers, earnt by her hands or body, or taken in the dead of the night, but she also carried with her several trinkets: A silver ring with a gem that glowed with magical energy, which she held onto despite its value, a piece of netch leather with the hlaalu signet that reminded her or home, and an amulet of Meridia, her mother's goddess of choice, which she kept as both a memory of the family she had lost and a silent prayer for providence she felt deep down in her heart would not ever come.

Weariness was with her now, as she sat curled beneath her black cowl. Its fabric was coarse and frayed at the edges, but it helped keep off the cold winds that lashed at her from the south. It was a dark night, and were it not for the passage she had secured upon a carriage bound for the Imperial City she would have been frantically finding equipment for a fire to keep the wolves at bay. From the relative safety of the wooden cart, rickety as it may have been, she could truly appreciate the beauty of their cries. She was always like this, able to see good where there was none. She had always liked animals. Back when her life had been free of fear, she had had a pet dog, and while it was now long dead the bond still remained. She saw him in the wolves in the wild, they had the same fur and toothy smile. Wolves had brought her near death, and yet she could not bring herself to hate them. Loving fear was all she could muster, an emotion that she felt towards too many things in the world. Her life had been full of misery and abuse, yet she always hoped that they cared for her deep down in their hearts. This carriage was no different. She had companions here, and while previous experiences had made her too afraid to try and talk with them she felt comforted by their presence. They will all be nice people, she told herself with steely certainty, maybe one will help me.

Her seating arrangement had its perks. Her back was nestled up next to a Khajit, whose fur was far softer than a hard wooden slab or the earth that made her usual bed. She did not want to sleep, knowing all too well the horrors that would follow, but she had no other options. She could not drink, as might an old man to drown out the horrors of war, as she only had one bottle. That sujamma was to be saved, to be enjoyed and to be shared, not to be drunk alone, selfishly, trying to pass the time on top of the luxury of the carriage. She could not read, not for lack of light but for lack of knowledge of the letters. Her childhood had been interrupted at the crucial stage, denying her access to a tutor or the liberty of time to pursue such frivolous pastimes. All she had were her thoughts, and with weariness slipping softly into her head these were few and far between. Once she came to the conclusion that postponing her date with sleep was a foregone conclusion, she nuzzled her head into a more comfy position, perching it roughly on the shoulder of the Khajit and hoping that he didn't mind it too much. As her eyes slowly drifted closed like the gates of far too many towns had been to her, her heart pondered the Imperial City.

There, she thought, there I will be able to change my life

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The Imperial City Isle was massive, playing host not only to the gargantuan capital of the Empire, but also various small towns that were their own little communities in their own right, as well as a plethora of manors and estates belonging to local nobility, combined with the occasional mausoleum or Ayleid ruin. Inera Heran's estate on the Isle was one of many, then, and that was exactly what it looked like - a typical walled estate, fashioned in Colovian architecture, the regional styles of Anvil and Skingrad's combined into a mix and match of architectural designs that would make any angry Colovian warlord a proud man indeed. What wouldn't, however, was the fact that, unlike the same Dunmer's residence within the City, it wasn't guarded by fine legionaries, and instead guarded by some more rag-tag, but nevertheless rather intimidating looking mercenaries. Indeed, most of them were Dunmer themselves, perhaps an indication as to who lived here - or where the allegiance of its mistress lay.

Velyna was let inside easily enough by said rough-looking guards, however, with them apparently already having been instructed to expect the arrival of a red-haired Dunmer that had business to conduct with their employer. Behind the gate and before the manor lay a decently sized garden - certainly large enough for one to hold a fancy party in - with various exotic plants that were obviously native to Morrowind rather than Cyrodiil, as well as a small, artificial stream running through it. Other than the stately home that stood at the center of it all, there were various other buildings - there were stables, obviously, as well as what appeared to be a residence for various servants. The guards, most likely. Besides that, there was what appeared to be a warehouse, likely to hold foodstuffs and the likes.

The lady of the house was not present yet, however, and Velyna was led towards the manor's main hall, and told to wait either there, or in the garden - with the main hall very much being where she would be meeting with Inera upon her arrival. The main hall was less of a place for dining, and more simply a place for guests to arrive and wait, as the Dunmeri thief was told to do now, before being left alone by the guards. Fancy-looking benches, various seats and tables, all made for a not too shabby place for one to sit and wait to be received. The large banners of House Dres did not leave much up to question as to which Great House the owner's allegiance lay with, the Dres chain unsettling to some, perhaps. What many would find more unsettling, however, was the nix-hound that lay sleeping by one of the benches, the insectoid, and rather murderous, pet seemingly keeping a (shut?) eye out for any intruders.

It would only be several hours after Velyna's arrival that Inera herself would arrive at the manor, seemingly having finished her business within the Imperial City, at least for the day. Arriving on horseback, she clearly preferred riding over limped walks, at least when it came to travelling to one's home outside of the city - even if she did not like horses one bit. Back in Morrowind, those things were food, after all, not mounts. Alas, faithful guar weren't all that well-suited for Cyrodiil, and so it was that she had to make do with this. Her legionary guards returned to the Imperial City as soon as she had arrived, for the councilor had no need for them, here. Indeed, she'd rather they not be here, and so it was that they returned towards her manor instead. Evidently, protection from thieves and the likes was very much necessary, there. As she climbed out of the saddles, she let one of the servants take the reins of her horse, a fine black steed from the Cheydinhal stables, to take it away, pulling off her riding gloves as she moved for her home.

One of her guards approached, speaking lowly as he informed her of the arrival of a red-haired Dunmer earlier at that day, who had been told to be waiting for her - be it in the garden or in the main hall - and told to meet with her upon arrival in the main hall. Allowing another of her servants to take off the large, brown cloak hanging from her shoulders, first, Inera made for her manor, to go and meet with her new employee, whom would preferably have good news for her. It would be regretful if she didn't, at least.

So it was that the Dunmer headed for the manor. Clad in a suit of netch-hide armor, clearly made just for her, she struck for an altogether different figure than the lady in the dress of the day before, even if her armor was lacking the chitin and bonemold parts she often wore with it. As she headed inside, she put her gloves next to the steel shortsword and ebony dagger by her hip, hanging from her belt. Letting out a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair. Travelling never had been her favorite thing to do. Moving towards her nix-hound first, giving it a little pat on its head, she then turned towards her guest, peering at the woman.

"The fact that you're here already leads me to believe that you managed to get it all done in just a night, then?" She asked of Velyna, eyebrow raised. "Did you manage to get everything I needed?" The Dunmer tilted her head a little, peering at the other, perhaps looking for any signs of injury. "One of the guards told me there was a limp to your walk. Do you have need of a healer? I can provide for that. I don't want you passing out and bleeding to death within my home. Or outside of it, for that matter, but certainly not inside of it. So... do tell."