Group One:
Sinclaire observed everything that transpired before him. Vyktoria made a few enemies, as he had suspected she would. Her attitude towards even Caius was nothing short of insufferable. In fact, her behavior caused a pang of rage to throb in his chest; even her expression brought back old memories that he had once thought were left behind him. Before he could say anything, Ja'Rikki had brushed his sleeve from behind him. Caught off guard, Sinclaire turned to her, managing not to show any signs of his feelings.
"Do you know where I could get a bath after this? I.. I feel horrid." she had asked, the noble not hearing her trying to begin a different sentence beforehand.
Sinclaire shook his head in answer. "No...I'll soon find out." Was all he said, his eyes staring off into the distance. His mind was elsewhere for the moment, but as the others began to speak some more he lost his hold on that particular thought. He turned as the Blades agent made a prod at Vyktoria in answer to her challenge.
In response, the battlemage sought to make a complete fool of him with her jest. However, the noble was not impressed; all he saw was the same sort of intellectual hauteur he was used to in High Rock. That resemblance was actually so uncanny, so similar that he could almost feel the stinging spasm of rage once again. This time, he held himself rigid; the best course of action right now would be to listen. Watch and see what unfolds as this group of strangers begins to attempt to assimilate into a group. The Dunmer girl seemed very quiet, quite austerely so. Looking at her for just a moment gave him a grave feeling as quiet as herself. "The girl from the guild. If I may attempt a guess, I would say her mind is elsewhere; something has her bothered."
Subtly, the noble's gaze touched upon each member of the group. As he got a better look at Larry, Sinclaire caught an air of relief in the fact that Caius has not deigned to put the crown of leadership upon the man, his own agent. (And for that matter, the Imperial Battlemage) He had the look of the drug addict, through and through. Something about his eyes...the size of his pupils, perhaps? "He looks hungry, exhausted even. Like he's been up for days. But you can tell he's got musculature."
Once Caius has addressed one of the other two Khajiit, the male one, he casually turned to look upon him and his female companion. He had the appearance of a beggar, and carried himself modestly. Eyl'Yti, to this noble, also had the demeanor of somebody who had a reason why he wanted to appear unassuming in those beggar rags. From him, Sinclaire felt danger; from his companion, mystery. Yuu'Ko, speaking in the more common dialect and vernacular that was the staple of her people. The Breton lord had never once dealt with her kind, and he found her manner of speaking intriguing. Ja'Rikki spoke differently, more straightforward; yet in an odd manner. He guessed that perhaps she was a native of Elsweyr.
Finding Yuu'Ko to be a bit more difficult to read at this time, he then fell upon the bearded Nord. He appeared rather aloof of the others; surely he thought their bickering to be trivial. His beard had begun to grey, and he seemed like he had worked long and hard in his lifetime. "Perhaps this man is the only normal one of them all...including myself." Sinclaire thought, taking a couple of glances around to ensure he didn't miss anybody.
Of course, Ja'Rikki is an unexpected arrival for sure. He knew that firsthand. "Why was she floating in the river like that? What had gotten her so dazed? Why is she dressed in Hammerfell garb I've never seen the like of? I know the Redguard style, it's indisputable. Yet there's something different. She seems like she does not belong here whatsoever..."
Suddenly, Sinclaire's thoughts were interrupted once again by that foolhardy battlemage. He turned just in time to see her spit insults at both Nevena and Ja'Rikki. Vyktoria seemed abnormally furious, and as she practically threw herself away from the pair, Sinclaire gave her a look of pure poison. The rage began to thrash inside of him, and it would not be quelled so easily. That fool of a battlemage may have made a few enemies in the group, yet not one of them could have had the feeling that her entire being radiated exactly the kind of force they had been opposed to all their lives. She, Vyktoria, was the folly of excessive intellect. Nothing in the world could ever seem more putrid than those types of people.
Resisting the urge to challenge her now, he remained silent for a moment.
Instead of remaining silent, however, he said something else entirely. Sinclaire first turned to the others, as if he had ignored the walking mage. The look on his face was different, his eyes flashed jade and his demeanor very direct. When he began to speak, his voice reached out at the group in an honest baritone.
"If any of you all require funds to purchase some items or equipment before we head out, I can lend out some gold to those in need of it. My name is Sinclaire Lettreux, for those that wish to know me. We could let that battlemage's brazen attitude get the better of her, but I'll convince her to stay with me at the city gates if some of you are not yet prepared. Personally, I recommend haste as well, as our time spent here hasn't succeeded in making the day any younger. There are enough of us to handle a Dwemer ruin, surely; danger will be present, but our diverse skillsets, as Caius called them, are the reason why we were chosen for this. We all have our own motives for coming here in the first place, correct? Power lies not only in the sword arm, or the carefully orchestrated spell. It also lies in the will, the motive, the goal. The pen, the paper, and the ink." Sinclaire's stoic gaze briefly fell upon Nevena and Ja'Rikki, before shifting back to the others as a whole.
"Let us at least walk toward the city gates, and if anybody has need of anything, let me know, and I'll help out. There's no point in fighting or arguing when we've already cast our lots with this twist of fate." With that, he turned to follow Vyktoria, not even affording her a brisk walk in pursuit, with no second thought about the fact he almost gave a speech to the strangers around him.
--
Caius had been stoic, a rigid statue of a man. As the group bickered, he shook his head. He also gave the same response to Nevena, who had asked him if the Empire planned on giving them a stipend for sundries. As Vyktoria stormed away, the shirtless man watched as Sinclaire turned to the others, and out of nowhere, spoke; it was as if nothing hindered him from doing so. Once Sinclaire had finished speaking and began to walk off, the Spymaster said nothing at all for a moment. Then, he gestured toward the Breton, urging those remaining to follow. "We will meet again once the box is retrieved." Caius stated simply, and without waiting for an answer, he entered the home that rested in the shade of the tree above them.