Dralliam drops out of silence...... "This will be good! im in! i will tell my men to unite the Ashlanders together! im in it for the money and a artifact that lies within White Gold tower itself! he said, "You Fara! You Bosmer Who-" he said while being interupted by Fara.....

OOC: Yes, it was approved.

IC: Dar'Ko woke up, only to find an immense pain in his stomach. Looking down, he found a fist was planted in that exact spot, a fist clothed in a mail glove. Fell asleep and now a guard has Dar'Ko, darn.

"You lazy khajiit, get up I said!" cried the guard, sending a foot right into the khajiit's face.

When Dar'Ko arose, the guard grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall again. Pulling out his club, he hit the khajiit firmly in the stomach once more and motioned from him to follow him.

"You're going to see an officer, I've given you enough warnings in this past week." the guard said in an irritated voice.

Dar'Ko followed as he was instructed and wiped the blood from his face to stare at it. The guard nearly knocked him out with that kick. Well, at least this isn't boring anymore. And as long as things weren't boring, good or bad, Dar'Ko was pleased. He wondered what "grueling" punishment one of the officers would have for him. About one or two he had information on and could easily avoid punishment from, but others were a complete mystery to him and would make his life difficult.

As Dras bursted out Fara looked at him, unsure of how to react "I'm from Valenwood ? we know quite a bit of how it feels to have some foreigner lording over us. The aldmeri dominion, the Camoran, usurper... you name them, we got them. Maybe not exactly what's been going on in Morrrowind but quite close. But before jumping all rosy eyed and drooling about Imperial gold I'd like to make sure I got thing straight."

Making an apologetic gesture "We bosmers aren't exactly good at that getting wise and getting the point right stuff afterall. Basically, what you're about to do is to grab the razor for yourself, get rid of Drothan then pick his little crusade under your belt. And only after that comes the funny parts like bringing in the Houses, squashing the Legion, rolling over the pile of loot and other funny part. Did I sum it up right ?"

"You Bosmer are nothing but liers! Dras only wants to help Drothran with the Razor! with it we can send the Imperials to Oblivion! and my sources tell me where to find the Staff of worms, the Necromancers Amulet and the Bloodworm Helm!" he said, "And don't interupt me when i was talking to you!" he said again

Fara looked at Dralliam with a somewhat amused expression "Oh my. My sincerest apologies. I didn't figure out you were speaking to me. All I heard were insults and not so veiled threats from you and your lousy bunch.". Her tone growing arsher "Nothing that I care to hear, or to make any effort to answer in a courteous - or even polite fashion. Oh and don't go all upity about me daring to think we're not acting on Drothan's best interests.". Forcing her voice to match Dras's tone "It's the Imperial city I'm after. If I get ahold of the artifact.... I don't know about you but I didn't hear much of Drothan in that. Especially considering he's the one who's supposed to get the Razor last time I checked."

She shrugged "I'm a mere scout who's in for the money, not any kind of mover and shaker. I don't give a rat's fart about the politics amongst the Drothemeris, but if I'm to be embroiled in it I want the largest, most accurate picture of the thing before I jump.". Fara made a dismissive gesture while facing Dras before concluding "And don't worry about me ratting you over if you're planning something Drothan would be pissed of. It would end up with my word against yours, and somehow I don't think mine's would win."

"Well excuse me you little Bosmer! do you wanna take this to the Training Hall?" he said, "Dras, if your planning on using the Razor for yourself i have no choice but to report you to Master Drothran for conspiricy against the master! if anyone should aquire the Razor it should be him!" he said again with a slight gesture of threatning him.
"And Fara, your in it for the money, and im in it for something very powerful within the Tower!", "How should we do this?" he said.

OOC: sigh When it rains it pours… oh well. It’d be great if you guys could slow down a bit, I know it’s fun but the rest of us want to play as well.

IC:
Shepherd listened quietly as the three argued, their traded words becoming more absurd and boastful the longer they talked. When Dralliam’s Ashlander cronies appeared, Shephard’s hand dropped to his short sword, ready to cut their traitorous throats if they tried anything stupid. Eventually the cowards became bored, or intimidated by the saucy bosmer, or both and left Dralliam to face her without them.

Finally, the conversation started to become interesting and Shepherd’s ears perked up. So, this Dras’ plan is to claim the artifact for himself, huh? This really is a traitorous band of cutthroats. Shepherd recognized Dras’ words for exactly what they were; syrup, very sweet but with little substance. Who knew what he would really do if he got his hands on Mehrunes Razor.

The only thing that Shepherd knew for sure was that if Dras’ intentions were noble, (which he seriously doubted) and he really had the best interests of the Dunmer at heart, the Razor was not likely to bend to his will. Mehrunes Razor was a piece of Dagon himself, according to the Wise Women of his former tribe, and would bend it’s wielder to Dagon’s own will, not the other way around.

Shepherd was also intrigued when Dralliam mentioned certain necromantic items. so the bastard is a foul necromancer as well? This one had better not turn his back on me.

Finally, when there was a break in the argument Shepherd spoke, quietly but clearly making sure the others were listening, “I’m an Outcast; from my tribe, from my people, from my country. I care not for patriotism, or the reinstated glory of the dunmer people, or the mad delusions of this mer that we’ve all signed on with. And I care least,” He made rigid eye contact with Dralliam when he said this, “about the ashlanders. Fools, all of them for trusting an imperial spy sent to cow them into submission.” His gaze shifted to Dras, “Your plan sounds like folly to me, if we agree to go with you against Drothan, we’ll likely die… painfully. He is a Telvanni mage afterall. So, my question for you, sera, is this: What’s in it for me?”

"Back to the items i mentioned 10 minutes ago.... it could help Drothran with his Crusade, i know where the Necromancer's Amulet is and the Bloodworm helm, the Staff of Worms is right here is Sundercliff as we speak, the mage wielding it is trying to hide it, my men have left to find it, Drothran can also modify it to reanimate corpses till they get killed again!" he Said, "The Amulet and the Helm are locked away in the Arcane Univsesity!" he said again

One of his Ashlander men came back to the Tent whispering something is Dralliams ears, Dralliam speaking old dunmer, the Ashlander runs away back to wherever he went...

As Dralliam kept babbling, Fara barely listened to him. The moron's getting all fired up about some freaking artifact, but he's all blind to the real problems... Guess I'll have to drop my grain of salt in the pot. He already hate my guts, nothing I'll say will make it worse. And maybe this Dras will be smart enough to see what's wrong.

"What we do ? Who do you count in that we ? It don't matter what artifact is there or not. Keep doing the sort of bullying antics you seems so fond of and whatever plan you make about an army will end straight down the drain.".

Her tone turned mocking. "Because you're never going to get any army. Only a messed up mob, wasting all it's effort bickering and robbing itself. Oh sure as long as the game is about stomping on the small fry and grabbing loot it will hold together. But the first bump on the road will break it apart. It might even happen as soon as there's some loot which can't be shared easily. Like those artifacts you seem so fired up about."

"I think some of you misheard me." Dras got out of his chair and looked at them all, "I plan no treachery against Drothan, I only wish to use the Razor as a bargaining chip of sorts. I'll use it to entice the houses, Azura knows they'd all want the thing to use against each other. So in the end its the Houses I will deceive, but for the better cause." Dras looked at Shepard, "And by the way, I brought this plan to Drothan himself, he approved. Trust me, my plan will work. As for Drothan, he is a complete fool, he sits here on his hands brooding over how he hates the Empire so much, and he does NOTHING! Chances are we won't see daylight for another 2 years, is that ANY way to show you want to free your country. If I don't take action, nobody will, and action must be taken soon. So I ask again, will you help me?"

OOC : whoah...text wall

IC :

Boros had listened to the proposal...trying his best to stay out of the personal disputes between Dralliam and Shepard, not to mention the arguing and rambling. By Nerevar...all this squabbling hurts my head, looks like I need to numb it up a bit and kill a few braincell's the tired Dunmer thought, surveying the small tent for any signs of booze as the discussions continued.

Uniting all the great house's? Dras needs to get real. Redoran are too proud, Telvanni are too selfish, and Hlaalu know it's bad for business. He pondered as he slowly walked around the modest tent, occassionally peeking inside a small box tucked into the corner or trying to get a glipse past Dras and see if he had any good hard liquour.

It actually seemed an alright proposition, but it was an all or nothing deal. Either it would work with great success and the Dunmer people would wage all-out war on Cyrodiil...which was pure insanity to say the least, or Drothan would catch on that he was being played for a fool and punish those involved accordingly, which would of meant him.

Eventually he spoke up, munching on a small handful of nut's he had so cunningly swiped from a supply crate inside the tent. "Seem's to me you have what could be an alright plan Dras...but pray tell, do you really want to take the risks involved? If you fail, we face a death most painful, and who knows? Dagon himself might want a say in the matter...maybe the blade will turn on us."

"It might be the booze talking, but I dont have any connections in the empire. heck, I dont have any connections with anyone other then the mess hall barman. I'll be in for your plan Dras, but only if this lot are also. Iv'e got nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. Truth be told, Im not one to really care...although I was wondering if you have any half-decent liquor in this tumbled-down joint"

"Haha, here you Boros." Dras said as he pulled a bottle of Cyrodillic Brandy from a box underneath his desk. He handed it to Boros and continued talking, "True the risks are immense, Dagon may not be pleased, but he IS the Lord of Destruction, why would he object to destroying the Empire with us using his own tool. He could reward us, but thats highly unlikely. As for uniting the Great Houses, if we win the war, their resources would be all but exhausted, That is when Drothan proposes that we untie, combine the Houses and rebuild Morrowind in the image of the Dunmer people."

"I am glad to see that you Boros are with me in this. If my plan fails, I will renounce my rank and be executed, I shall take the blame for all of you, I know Drothan, he is cruel but he is a patriot and knows the Dunmer ways, he will understand. So none of you will suffer the consequences, but there are still risks. So, Boros is with me, and what about the rest of you?"

As Dras spoke about his plan and loyalty to Drothan, Fara watched him attentively for the slightest hint of lie. Not that she was notoriously good at spotting such hints, but she felt the pieces of his speech didn't fit well.

"So you're working on Drothan's behalf ? Then I'd like you to answer some questions that are nagging at me.

First : Drothan already has an handpicked group looking for the Razor and answering directly to him. How comes you're tasked with getting and using it ?

Second : if you're really mandated by Drothan and need us, how comes you're completely sidestepping the chain of command. Why couldn't you slip a word to my sergeant about your need for me ?

Third : I'm a mere scout, A good one for sure, but on the bottom rung of rank. What's so special with me that you're ready to buy my services with 'immense wealth'. Of which you've yet to get the first coin.

Maybe it's just me being a suspicious lot, but I have a feeling you're buttering us up. That you're up to something Drothan has never approved and picked a bunch of low-rankers to do the dirty deed and who can be disappeared without raising much concern. Especially when you're getting in your merry band a guy who wouldn't think twice before slicing my throat to get a handful of coins."

"Okay Fara, let me answer."

First: "I have ties to all of the Houses, I have worked with many Daedric artifacts, and have seen visions of the Princes even. Drothan knows this, he knows I can use the Razor in my plan to unite Morrowind."

Second: I sent a messenger to your Sergeant for need of you, I told him it was under direct orders from Drothan, which the orders partially were. So here you are."

Third: You were in the Legion no? Certainly you could scout areas that would be ideal for attacks, strategic areas that we could gain a foothold with. You sell yourself short Fara, this operation will benefit from you.

"I know my intentions are suspicious, but Drothan IS allowing me to work as a bit of an undercover "Commander" per say. And I picked a bunch low-rankers because if I picked the higher-ups, it would seem all the more suspicious. Trust me Fara, I mean none of you harm, I just want your help for the betterment of all the Dunmer people, and the Bosmers, and any race who has suffered at the hands of the Empire. Will you join me?"

Shepherd threw his hands up exasperatingly, "This is all guar dung! Not to mention utter insanity, I should have known better than to sign on with a B'vekking Telvanni!"


Shepherd paced back and forth angrily, eyeing Dras with a look of disgusted rebuke, "And you sera, are obviously in favor with the Prince of Madness. You speak of patriotism and building up 'our' people one minute and then turn around the next and presume to use an implement of the Prince of Destruction to do so. You speak of loyalty to our benefactor, and call him a fool in one breath. You recite 'our' values with one side of your mouth and with the other make promises to support at best a necromantic opportunist and at worst a servant of the King of Worms!" He pointed an accusing finger at Dralliam when he said this. "You are two-faced, sera," he spat, still addressing Dras, "And too busy looking at glory in opposite directions to see the folly standing in front of you wearing legion armor."


Shepherd huffed a frustrated grunt, "But since you are so adept at speaking sweetly as you turn a dagger in our backs, I will ask you but one more time before I walk out that door: What's? in it? for? ME?" Shepherd punctuated each word before slamming his hands down on Dras' desk, his eyes wide with pent up wrath.

Dras wasn't surprised by this outburst. "Drothan is a stupid, treacherous, Telvanni bastard as are all Telvanni mages, I remain loyal because he has managed to put together an army and he is a Dunmer patriot of Morrowind, and he has the best intentions for it. I have no ties with Dagon, I am a follower of Boethiah and Azura. I only said I'd use the dagger to bring down the Empire, Dagon would not turn it against me as long as I used it for Destruction and Chaos."

"You hate the Empire, Shepard. Everyone is this army does, what's in it for you is a free Morrowind, a Dunmer occupied Empire and a life you wish to lead. As well as wealth, I can promise you. You assume to much you insolent Ashland brat, drop the brute Ashland act, I know who you are. You want the same as I do, don't deny it!"

Shepherd blinked, staring at Dras with unbelieving surprise, blinked again and then started to laugh quietly. "You know nothing of what I want, you pretentious S'wit," he said, shaking his head. "I am no patriot and I am no hero of the Dunmer, actual or precieved," His hand flicked at the air, dismissing such a preposterous notion. "My tribe embraced the yoke of the Empire long ago and the Great Houses Have licked the Septim boot for centuries; if anything, I loath the dunmer more than Tiber Septim himself," Shepherd's hand balled into a fist as he said this. "This 'cause' of Drothan's is a fool's quest through and through, but I don't care. The only thing I want is to die with the blood of my enemies on my hands and a curse for their ancestors on my lips, if you can promise me that... then you will have my services."

Shepherd cocked his hat back with his thumb, looking Dras coldly in the eyes, "What say you now, House Mer?"

Dralliam gets up and yells at the top of his lungs "I AM NO NECROMANCER! I despise the King of Worms and Necromancy! how Dare you accuse 'me' of being a 'Necromancer'? If my men were here they would kill you in a second! Im in! Come and get me yourself next time before sending a mere messanger to get me! ill be in the Mess Hall! or come find me in my Quarters!" he yells, Walks out of the tent and a passing Barmaid crashes into him, she gets up,
"Watch where your going to [censored]!" He said with the utmost anger in his voice and slapping her across the face and walks to his quarters, Yelling and telling his men to regroup.

He sits down in his tent, His men come in with a wounded mage, "We found him! and i present to you the Staff of Worms" said the Ashlander leader, we also found some information, An thief is near Sundercliff with the Necromancers Amulet, One of spies spotted him! let us leave and get this amulet!" he said, Dralliam gets up and runs for the stable entrance with a hound to help find the thief, Dralliam runs back to get the staff, the 5 of them running and make it to the doors and walk into soil, "It's Beautiful! i haven't seen sunlight in i don't know when" he said with a tear coming down his eye, he hears running in the bushes, the thief comes out and trips on a rock and landing right in front of him. and leaves the wounded made in his quarters with one of his Ashlander men watching him.

"Well well well, look what we have here, a little thief on the lam, tell me where is the Amulet you stole from the Arcane university?" he said, "I don't know? please don't kill me!" he said with worry in his eyes, "If you give me the amulet i will spare you" he said again, "Okay here it is.... just dont..... what are you doi-" he tried to say before Dralliam jabbed him in the head with a elven daggar, "Let's get back to Sundercliff before they find out we left!" said one Ashlander.

Dralliam walking back to his tent and sits down on his cot, "Two of these mythic items have come to me, its just the Helm i need...." he said with laughter, he stands in front of the mage giving him a beating trying to get him to tell him where to find the Bloodworm Helm,
"Where is the Helm?", "Where is the Helm?" he said while giving him a savage beating, "I don't know, last i heard someone kept it locked behind the Imperial Prison!" he said.
he tells his men to sneak out and find the helm for him, Dralliam puts the amulet around his neck and he feels weak, but more powerful with Magick, he gets up and walks out into the Hallway, he grabs a passing Barmaid he seen before, "Listen and listen good, you will bring me a bottles of your finest Ale and bring them here!" he said as he pulled a knife to her throat, shes runs like the wind and comes back a few minutes later, "Its warm you Wench!" he said as she dropped the Ale in the hall, Dralliam stikes her across the face again for all to see.....

Dras walked closer to Shepard, not but 3 inches from his face, looking him in the eyes and spoke quietly but with rage in his voice, "If you join me, I promise you will die with blood of all your enemies, you will receive your wish Shepard. Will you join me... kinsman." Dras looked at the broken Dunmer before him, the hate that Shepard harbored was unfathomable, even by Dras's standards. He now truly knew what this Dunmer wanted. And he would give it to him.

OOC: Basically, I'm just buying time until everyones characters leave the tent so I can get some character interaction going.

IC: The door creaked open slowly as the khajiit crept into the officer's quarters cautiously. Dar'Ko knew he was in trouble and there was no way of escaping that, but if he interrupted the officer while he was in the middle of something, he'd only be digging his grave deeper. Still though, despite his fears for a harsh punishment, the khajiit preferred this rather than to the boring, mundane routine of mining. Besides, mining left blisters and worst of all, if one worked in the coal mines, there was the guarentee of getting black lung.

Black lung's treachery was that it caused a slow, and painful death. The khajiit had seen many cases of it ever since they moved into Sundercliff. Fellow slaves would gasp for air, coughing their lungs out and crying due to the intense internal pain it caused them. At least if one of the slave masters beat you, you would get a week off in the infirmiry to heal, but black lung was relentless. If you kept working in the coal mines, you knew your fate.

"You called for this one sir?" questioned the khajiit, afterwards letting out a few brutal coughs.
"Take a seat Dar'Ko." spoke the officer, who surprisingly knew the khajiit's name. Typically a slave's name was considered unimportant, but Dar'Ko had been a slave for Drotheran since before he ever moved into Sundercliff.

The khajiit shifted uncomfortably in his seat, never finding that point of relaxation. He pondered the form of punishment awaiting him. This all never would have happened if that accursed slave had awoken this one like he was supposed to! Once this one finishes with his punishment, Dar'Ko is going to stick a pickaxe in his back, that two-faced wretch!

"Your friend in the mines says that you collapsed after a series of coughs. He said that you mentioned black lung, is this true?" he inquired.
"Yes! Yes, Dar'Ko has been having trouble with his coughs lately. After seeing other miners suffer the same fate, this one things it's black lung." the khajiit spoke, surprised at the officer's words. That slave covered for Dar'Ko, he may have even gotten him a week's break! Oh how this khajiit loves that slave!
"As you know," started the officer, "we've been in a rut with this disease. Several slaves have died from it lately, cutting down our production of coal, as well as other things. Now, commonly, we would send you back to work in those mines, but Drotheran has requested that you be sent to the clinic. Afterwards, you are to head to the mess hall where you will be working from now on during the first part of the day, and then the infirmiry, where you will be working the second part of your days. Consider yourself lucky, Drotheran seems to like you."

Speechless at such a great change in work routine, the khajiit simply nodded his thanks and walked out slowly. He stood in the officer quarters of Sundercliff, staring up at the rocky ceiling and breathing as deep a breath as he could. It only ended in a cough, but still felt rejuvinating. Not only did he achieve his goal for change, but he also earned himself an easier job.

As Dralliam had his outburst and left in a hurry, Fara gave a one-finger salute to his back. "He's yelling aloud that he's no necromancer, but he's more than happy with the idea of using the Staff of Worm to raise the dead, and ho so eager get the bloodworm helm which is as far as I know mostly a necromantic tool... Funny guy, I wouldn't trust him as far as I could shoot an arrow in his back."

Then she turned to face Dras "You said you sent word to my sergeant ? Funny, it's just a mere private with a word from your hand who sent me there, not the sarge. Which isn't to soothe my worrying soul you know.

But there's a way to bolster your credentials Sir. Someone with your connections shouldn't have too much trouble arranging a meeting with Drothan or one of his direct lieutenant to confirm you're really working for him. Pass it of as a good drubbing about the fight in the canteen to keep it out of sight.

If I get that confirmation, I'm okay with joining your plan, I'm getting mighty sick of playing the mushroom in that damn cave. But I think you'd better keep that brute and his sorry bunch out. They're nothing but trouble waiting to happen."

Dralliam still trying to interigate the hostage mage into find the Helm, "Never" he said, Dralliam stabs him trough the chest, "Damn," he said, grabbing the staff, reciting words and pointing the staff at the dead mage, a purple glow shoots at the body and the Mage is alive, "Im alive?" he said, "Now tell me where to get the Helm!" he said, "Okay, heres a note, its where to find it!" the mage said, "Thanks" he said as he stabs him again.

He whistles three times and one of his Ashlander men come back, he tells him to go to Dras' quarters to tell him hes in on his plans.

Shepherd didn’t so much as flinch at Dralliam’s ranting; he did however take note of his arrogant but seemingly empty boasts, the threat on Shepherd’s life, and his statement of where he would be later. I’ll have to watch this one, he thought as Dralliam stormed out, I may have to kill him myself if he continues to become more unstable. How did the fool manage to deceive the superstitious ashlanders into following him in his obvious soul-sickness, I wonder.

Shepherd kept his gaze on Dras as he rounded his desk and came close, speaking to him confidentially. Shepherd searched his heavily tattooed ashen features, keeping his own face like a mask, only allowing his eyes to move. He saw conviction in the mer’s eyes as he made his promise, and maybe a hint of something else, understanding?

When Fara spoke up Shepherd let her finish before allowing a slow smile to creep across his face, completely devoid of anything that could be interpreted as happiness. Smart girl, he thought, I know all I need to about this mer though.

He nodded his head ever so slightly, “Very well then, brother,” He whispered, unable to help the tone of sarcasm laced in that word whenever he spoke it. “What would you have me do?”

"Well first, we all have a certain Ashlander to deal with, that Dralliam. He's dangerous, he's mad I can see it in him. Shepard, can you perhaps delay any plans of his, I don't care what the cost, if he finds the Necromanctic artifacts, Azura knows what he'll do. If he uses them incorrectly, it could mean a very long and painful death for all of us." Dras said to Shepard, "Fara, as for you, I need you to gather intel on the whereabouts of some other artifacts, I hear talk of something hidden in a nearby Ayleid ruin, just outside of Sundercliff." Dras sheathed his sword, "Now, you can go about your day, but be careful. I have other matters to attend to."


With this Dras stepped out of his tent and began to walk through the corridors... to Drothan's chambers.

Fara raised a hand in interruption "As I told, get me the proof you're really working for Drothan before you count me in. But I will keep that one in mid and prepare some groundwork until that." She started laving, then stopped at the tent's door "There's a extra matter I think you should attend to ? altering your plans for some reachable goal." She preemptively raised a hand to silence an objection "
I mean, I've served in Morrowind. And from all I could feel, you need the Empire now that the Tribunal is gone. The Great Houses don't give a fart about Morrowind as a whole, all they care for is the size of their own slice of it.
Without a credible threat or a leader of Nerevar's abilityto keep them under pressure they'll jump at each other's throats with everything they have the second they can get away with it. With the forces needed to take and hold something of Cyrodill's size out and that sort of infighting at home, it will leave Morrowind wide open to Skyrim's ambitions and Blackmarsh's revenge for slavery. Kick the empire out of Morrowind and hit it hard enough to prevent it from coming back, but keep it growling in the background loud enough to give the Houses something they hate and fear more than each other."