» Fri Feb 18, 2011 5:07 pm OOC: I still have to finish this conversation with Numenorean, but after that I'm all set for a timeskip. Although, Blade and I would have to work out what happened with Sedyni when she went to leave. If you'd like, we can say she was refused, and then the next week (day seven) have her finally come to Ocato and demand that the dignitaries come with her, as Helseth has already sent his own. Are you okay with that Blade? (Since we no longer have a discussion thread <_< )
IC:
Royal Province of Cheydinhal, Castle Cheydinhal; Day Two, Nighttime
Emperor Hlaalu Helseth R'Aathim
After Helseth had finished, the Redguard stood, his cheery expression out of place in his facepaint. The human opened his arms as if in embrace, a peaceful gesture among men, and began his response. "Forgive me... Emperor," he paused; Helseth noted a glint of sarcasm in his eye, but showed no sign of anger, "I command a task force of 400 of the best woodsmen in all of Tamriel. Each man is an expert in archery and swordplay as well as close, small arms combat. We specialize in highly dangerous, precision operations. In other words, anything and everything that your own forces cannot, or are not prepared to do."
Helseth chuckled, thinking of his Sundercliff operatives, but allowed the man to continue. "As for a guarantee of success, I offer none, for such things do not exist. However, I will say that you can trust my Battalion to succeed in any task which you or your esteemed generals can place before us. We have never failed before." A smirk split the Redguard's face; he was obviously confident in his men, or at least putting on a damn good show of it.
The captain softened, his voice growing quiet, yet his playful smile remained, "You ask a humble ranger of payment, my lord, so I ask this. What does his most powerful and wealthy Emperor offer?"
Helseth laughed; his deep, booming voice filling the hall. "I approve of your style, captain!" For once the Dunmer was speaking genuinely, for he saw in the Redguard a bit of himself; a certain suave professionalism, a way of getting to the point without seeming to. "You say you have never failed, and I am tempted to believe you. For such quality service as yours, I can think of quite a good many things I would offer in return. However, for someone in your line of work, hard gold always serves best." Helseth smiled, his eyes shining cheerfully.
"I shall make my offer now, and if you like what you hear, take your men to Fort Urasek. You shall find my trusted general, Trevyn Rindu, there, along with my spymaster, Grandmaster Neloth Uvani. I am certain one of them will know what to do with you." Helseth's smile twisted at the edges, a look several of his councilors knew all too well; Helseth was about to make a bargain. "But of course, I forget the matter of payment. You say you have four hundred men, so for each of them I offer a hundred septims up front; and for you to command them I offer another thousand. That is forty one thousand gold coins, to be given to you once you arrive at Fort Urasek, for nothing more than walking down the road." A trifle, Helseth's outfit was worth half that, but the emperor was not yet finished. "But that would not be enough to get out of bed for, captain, so I continue my bargain. Upon completion of your service to Morrowind, your men will each recieve another thousand septims apiece, more than enough for rangers to become old men comfortably. You, however, and any of your equals, shall have a choice: take another ten thousand, or accept an earldom under the new Empire."
The offer was enough to make even the richest of the noble-elves' mouths water; Helseth spoke of giving away over five hundred thousand septims, and potentially a dozen titles of nobility. One could buy a small kingdom with that much gold, or hire enough swords to raise an army. Only the emperor's seneschal seemed unsurprised, he had witnessed countless deals like this serving as Helseth's treasurer, but he could count on one hand the number that had recieved their entire payment. Most died shortly after completing their task, others were found guilty of treason, and a few simply disappeared. Of course, if Helseth succeeded with his plans, the seneschal doubted he would ever need worry of gold again.
OOC: Accept or decline, Numenorean, I would suggest you finish our business within the next post, so Ravanger can officially declare the week over.
IC:
Royal Province of Cheydinhal, Castle Cheydinhal; Day Two, Nighttime
Emperor Hlaalu Helseth R'Aathim
After Helseth had finished, the Redguard stood, his cheery expression out of place in his facepaint. The human opened his arms as if in embrace, a peaceful gesture among men, and began his response. "Forgive me... Emperor," he paused; Helseth noted a glint of sarcasm in his eye, but showed no sign of anger, "I command a task force of 400 of the best woodsmen in all of Tamriel. Each man is an expert in archery and swordplay as well as close, small arms combat. We specialize in highly dangerous, precision operations. In other words, anything and everything that your own forces cannot, or are not prepared to do."
Helseth chuckled, thinking of his Sundercliff operatives, but allowed the man to continue. "As for a guarantee of success, I offer none, for such things do not exist. However, I will say that you can trust my Battalion to succeed in any task which you or your esteemed generals can place before us. We have never failed before." A smirk split the Redguard's face; he was obviously confident in his men, or at least putting on a damn good show of it.
The captain softened, his voice growing quiet, yet his playful smile remained, "You ask a humble ranger of payment, my lord, so I ask this. What does his most powerful and wealthy Emperor offer?"
Helseth laughed; his deep, booming voice filling the hall. "I approve of your style, captain!" For once the Dunmer was speaking genuinely, for he saw in the Redguard a bit of himself; a certain suave professionalism, a way of getting to the point without seeming to. "You say you have never failed, and I am tempted to believe you. For such quality service as yours, I can think of quite a good many things I would offer in return. However, for someone in your line of work, hard gold always serves best." Helseth smiled, his eyes shining cheerfully.
"I shall make my offer now, and if you like what you hear, take your men to Fort Urasek. You shall find my trusted general, Trevyn Rindu, there, along with my spymaster, Grandmaster Neloth Uvani. I am certain one of them will know what to do with you." Helseth's smile twisted at the edges, a look several of his councilors knew all too well; Helseth was about to make a bargain. "But of course, I forget the matter of payment. You say you have four hundred men, so for each of them I offer a hundred septims up front; and for you to command them I offer another thousand. That is forty one thousand gold coins, to be given to you once you arrive at Fort Urasek, for nothing more than walking down the road." A trifle, Helseth's outfit was worth half that, but the emperor was not yet finished. "But that would not be enough to get out of bed for, captain, so I continue my bargain. Upon completion of your service to Morrowind, your men will each recieve another thousand septims apiece, more than enough for rangers to become old men comfortably. You, however, and any of your equals, shall have a choice: take another ten thousand, or accept an earldom under the new Empire."
The offer was enough to make even the richest of the noble-elves' mouths water; Helseth spoke of giving away over five hundred thousand septims, and potentially a dozen titles of nobility. One could buy a small kingdom with that much gold, or hire enough swords to raise an army. Only the emperor's seneschal seemed unsurprised, he had witnessed countless deals like this serving as Helseth's treasurer, but he could count on one hand the number that had recieved their entire payment. Most died shortly after completing their task, others were found guilty of treason, and a few simply disappeared. Of course, if Helseth succeeded with his plans, the seneschal doubted he would ever need worry of gold again.
OOC: Accept or decline, Numenorean, I would suggest you finish our business within the next post, so Ravanger can officially declare the week over.
Captain Turner, Castle Cheydinhal
"To these terms I accept. You have my loyalty." said Turner, giving the Emperor a curt nod. Turning on his heel he walked swiftly towards the magnificent oaken doors. Without turning his head he said loudly, "May the gods bless all those who fight under your banner Helseth." And with that he slipped through the open doors and was gone, vanishing into the night.
By dawns first light he had arrived at the base of the tree he had departed from hours before. Giving a short, sparrow-like bird call, four men clad in gray-green cloaks dropped down from the leafy heights above. "Alert all companies, we move north in aid of the Dunmer host." Without a word, three of the four men swiftly departed. The last, a tall, green eyed Breton remained, staring at Turner. Catching his gaze, Turner spoke out sternly, "Mobilize your men Lieutenant, we go to war." The hooded figure nodded and disappeared soundlessly into the dimly lit shrubbery.
OOC- short, sweet, and to the point. Lets get this [censored] crackin
