How The West Was Won
"Tell me again, Grandpoppa, about when the Imperials tried to take over High Rock"

The old man looked at his grand-daughter, and slight grin on his face. "They didn't try, little one, the Imperial's DID take over High Rock."

"But how," the little girl whined, "Tell me!"

Laughing, the old man launched into one of his favorite tales. "It was 4E 2 when everything started. The rulers of Daggerfall, Wayrest, and Sharnhelm had been chomping at the bit for independence for years. Their had been trouble in Tamriel before then, daedra bursting through great gates to Oblivion. Some cult also slew the Emperor. T'was a most excellent time for dissension." The old man adjusted himself until he was more comfortable. "Anyway, after that crisis, the kingdoms of High Rock thought that it was about time that they assert themselves. In a bloody night, almost half of the Legion garrisons in our country were butchered, and the others were soon set to flight a few weeks later."

"But how like Bretons to then revert to their old ways. As soon as the Imperials had been driven out, they set to squabbling with each other, petty wars springing up all over. Wayrest, lead by their Queen Elysana, seemed to old the upper-hand for the most part. Their navy was the strongest in the West at the time. But the Bretons didn't count on the Imperials to actually return. In the latter 4E 2, the Imperial Legions marched from Skyrim, decimating the cities of Farrun and Jehanna. Word eventually reached the great courts of the South, and the rulers put aside their differences for the time, and began to make plans on how to combat the Legion threat."

"What they didn't count on, however, was Orsinium and Hammerfell. Redguard piracy on Wayrest and Daggerfall reached all-time highs, and the land trade was cut by marauding bands of Orcs."

"The kingdoms were cut-off from each other?" The little girl asked, "But can't mages travel long distances?"

"Only if preparation was made. Now be quiet. Anyway," the old man leaned back in his chair, "Wayrest was the biggest target, and the Legions made right for it. But the brave Gaston de Bern, husband of Queen Elysana, met the Empire with his own army at Gauvadon. That was a bloody day. Valiant men of Wayrest fought hard against their foes, but the day was not to be theirs. Gaston was slain the fighting, robbing Wayrest of it's only hope. With this victory under their belts, the Legions marched on Wayrest."

"What happened to the Queen?"

"I was just getting to that," the old man snapped. "Elysana was fearful, who wouldn't be, but she kept her head. She had three children at this time, two princesses and one prince. She knew that her daughters might be spared, but if her son ever was caught in the Empire's hands, he would never see the light of day again. So, she took a risky gamble; put him on a boat bound for Summurset Isle, to the court of Firsthold, where he step-sister, Morgiah, was queen."

"Did he make it, Grandpoppa?"

"Yes."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, that is a tale all it's own. But let me finish this one. Wayrest was destroyed when the Imperials finally got to it. The princesses were sent to Cyrodiil, and the Queen was executed for treason."

"How frightful! But what happened to the prince?"

"Well, let me tell you.......

***

The Start
In this RP, you can be one of two things. The first is a member of the prince's guard, and the second is anyone else (adventurer, Fighters Guild, whatev). The beginning of this RP is in Firsthold, in Summurset Isle. The RP starts off two years after the events described above, so the year is 4E 6. Reman of Firsthold has issued a general call for mercenaries and other people of such repute to report to the Palace at Firsthold for a job offer. If you choose to be a member of the Prince's Guard, then you must start at the Palace of Firsthold.

Rules
-No ubering, character controlling, or anything of that ilk unless you have express permission from all parties involved.
-You can join at any time, but you must PM your character sheet for approval first, and then I will advise you on how best to join.
-Everybody is welcome here: beginners and pros. Just be willing to learn, and to have a good time.
-I am completely in control of this roleplay. I will avoid doing too much with people's characters, but there may well be moments when I need to move time along or unlock someone's character. I apologise in advance for any problems this might cause.
-Vampires and Werewolves are welcome, if played properly. Same with assassins and such.
-Just use common sense in RP's and you'll do fine.

Character Sheet

Name:
Nickname:
Race:
Gender:
Age:
Birthsigns:

Focus:
Skills(In Game):
Skills(NonGame):
Class:

Class Description:

General Appearance:

Hair:
Eyes:
Height:
Build:
Skin:
Tattoos/Scars:

Personality:

Weapon(s):
Clothing/Armour:

Inventory:

Misc Skills and Traits:



Short Bio:

EDIT: Misread...

The Characters

Verlox's Character

Name: Prince Eadwyre Fitz-Elysana
Nickname: N/A
Race: Breton
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Birthsigns: The Lord

Focus: Combat
Skills(In Game): Blade, Block, Heavy Armour, Speechcraft
Skills(NonGame): Etiquette, Horsemanship, Dancing, Lute-manship
Class: Noble

Class Description: (As soon as I can think of a good one)

General Appearance: He is lighty muscled, his more the wiry strength of stamina rather than muscle and sinew. His face is handsome, but he would never be called a head-turner. Standing at only five feet and six inches, he is not a very imposing youth, but neither does he appear to be a pushover.

Hair: Short, boy-ish blonde hair
Eyes: Light Blue
Height: 5 Feet 6 Inches
Build: Light Muscle
Skin: Pale
Tattoos/Scars: None

Personality: An overly serious child, brought on by the loss of his parents and birthright, Eadwyre is not known to show a great deal of sympathy or pity for many people. Like his mother, he has a very calculating mind, and will stoop to just about anything to achieve his goals. Fortunately, his father was his first tutor. Being a disciple of Chivalry, Gaston sought to teach his son it's code of ethics and honour. These lessons are still prevalent in his actions, and most of his goals tend to be noble.

Weapon(s): Ebony Longsword
Clothing/Armour: Blue Velvet Outfit. Deerskin top-boots with a lip.

Inventory: Wayrest Royal Seal

Misc Skills and Traits:
-Is left-handed
-Hates Orcs

Short Bio: (To be revealed as the RP goes on)

Illusionary Nothing's Character
Name: Clarissa Selune

Race: Breton

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Birthsign: The Tower

Class: Bard

Skills: Clarissa's array of skills are not the norm. She is incredibly perceptive of otherworldly things; she can almost always detect and see through enchantments, and discern which schools of magic people are skilled at. She has knowledge in many different areas, and can translate most languages. A bard by profession if not by practice, Clarissa is a skilled performer and very gifted with words. She's quite graceful and thus can move quietly, and is talented at hiding from sight.

The most interesting of Clarissa's talents is probably her skill at Illusion. Shaping her magic to be subtle, it is nearly undectable, but thus it loses the 'brute force' element. While Clarissa cannot turn invisble or charm or control the minds of others by spell alone, she can divert attention from herself and influence the atmosphere of a room, affecting morale and mentality. This requires a lot of concentration, as it is a much more skillful and less powerful aspect of magic, and thus usually she must use the medium of music in some way to assisst- her flute is the most common, but song is a fall-back.

Physical description: There is something... unsettling, about Clarissa, though few can ever pin-point why. It couldn't be her colouring, for her hair is dark brown and not unusual in itself, and anyway it is worn back in a plait down her back. Neither could it really be her skin: though pale, there is nothing exceptional about it. As a matter of fact, for the most part Clarissa appears soft; her well-curved form, her perfectly smooth skin, the roundness of her face. Though there is something feline in the shape of her face, the tilt of her large brown eyes, in the shape of her small nose and the wryness of her smiles- she hardly appears dangerous.

Except that when people look deeply into her intense brown eyes, they see red behind the brown. Except that when she smiles in wicked humour or laughs freely, her canines appear ever so slightly longer than they should be. Except that her fingernails, so average in appearance, seem stronger than average. Except that when she moves, there is a hint of unnatural grace behind her movements, and sometimes... she seems more animal than human.

But who would ever pay enough attention to small, unintimidating Clarissa Selune to notice?

About the character: Clarissa is a child of the Tower, and she acts it. Her affinity with locks goes beyond normal, and she always seems to know what is going on around her. Clarissa is irrepressible and fiercely intelligent, and she rebels against those would would impose rules upon her and her creativity. She is master of her Tower, and would defy anyone who tried to make it any other way.

Though she has been forced most of her life to be a loner, and would appear to be a loner in nature, she seeks out the company of others, revelling in a group dynamic- though she expects others to let her do her own thing. She is somewhat eccentric in her sense of humour and her mannerisms, as she seems unwilling to change herself in order to conform. She is also somewhat radical with her morality- she chooses for herself what she believes to be right and wrong, and in what to put her faith.

She is knowledgeable in a wide variety of areas- one of the talents of a bard- but is particularly interested in daedra, vampires, and lycanthropes... though where her fascination comes from is anybody's guess.

Weapons: Clarissa's only weapon is a small silver dagger, a slender blade that hangs on her belt. It is not particularly skillfully wielded, but is her best physical defense. Apart from that, she also has her silver Flute, which is usually hung on a strap and fully constructed.

Armor/Clothing: She usually wears brown leggings and knee-high doeskin boots. Her shirt is long-sleeved and midnight blue in colour. She also wears an archer's leather gauntlets, fingertip-less and extending to her elbows. None of this looks very expensive.

Misc. Items: Her flute, hung on a long leather strap. A small purse of coins.

Short History: Clarissa keeps her life story close to her heart, though there is nothing inherently 'unusual' in her life story. She was disowned young in life, and thus left to forge her own path. She became a bard, although not in the traditional sense. Clarissa chooses to keep her performances and stories for herself, and instead uses her skills and powers to aid others in what she deems worthy causes

woolymammoth's Character
Name: Marcus Minsaro
Nickname: Basher
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Birthsigns: Warrior

Focus: Combat
Skills(ingame): swordsmanship, security, sneak, alchemy, good with heavy armor
skills(nongame): marksman, magic, repairing

Class: WarShadow

Class Description: The stealthy, but very powerful warrior. He uses combat and stealth to enhance eachother

General Appearance: Very muscular, tall, stocky

Hair: black
Eyes: brown
Height: 6'2

Build: stocky
Skin: mild white
Tattoos/Scars: Lots of scars on his body from many battles

Personality feels he has something to prove to everyone

Weapon(s): Silver Longsword
Clothing/Armour: Dwarven Armor

Inventory:5 healing potions, some boar meat

Misc Skills and Traits: His favorite food is boarmeat. He gets mad when people take his boarmeat. He can climb ledges very well



Short Bio: He grew up in Summerset Isle, never new his father, and his mother died in childbirth. He grew up with an imperial, a man that adopted him, the man was rich, and gave him his own set of Dwemer armor. He learned the arts of combat, stealth and alchemy, and has made a living selling potions. He wants an adventure and is tired of sitting in his shop making potions everyday

Faldom's Character
Name: Kiel

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Race: Redguard

Birthsign: The Steed

Class: Ranger

Class Description: Trained in the art of surviving and thriving in the wild. They prefer bows, blades, and little armor. They using their agility and speed in combat.

Skills: (Mostly DF) Long Blade, Short Blade, Marksmen, Alchemy, Climbing, Running, Jumping, Spriggan, Light Armor, and Sneak

Non TES Skills: Horse Riding, Crafting, Sailing, Tracking, Survival, etc.

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 204

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color: Black

Appearance: Has short frizzy hair and a small goatee. Has a golden piercing in his left ear. He has a broad jaw, and well defined facial features. He has small scars all over his body that has been hardened from physical training. He bears a tattoo of Yokuda on his right Bicep.

Weapon(s): Elven long sword, Elven dagger, and a set of an Elven Bow and arrows

Misc. Items: A white stallion named Thunder, a pouch full of herbs, wilderness equipment and a few maps held in another bag. The pouch and bag are both concealed under his cloak.

Armor: Hard, black, leather boots and a vest, over dark brown pants, a lighter brown shirt, and draqed in a green cloak. Under all of that is a suit of mithril chainmail. He always wears a silver medallion

Casual: Wears his boots and pants over his legs, sometime's he is barefoot. He wears his black vest open on his torso.

Formal: Whenever attending a formal event, he cleans his pants, shines his boots, and wears those. He wears a fine white cotton shirt under his black vest.

Mental: Kiel can be headstrong and tends to have a one-tracked mind, but he has great perseverance. His behaves rather calmly outside of combat, but in combat he lets his natural adrenaline take over.

Background History: Kiel was born to a couple of Redguard pirates. They raised him on the ship, teaching him the tricks and trades of sailing, and little bit of training with a cutlass. They intended to teach him more of those. When he was age 10, they both died on a large raid. He was stranded in Valenwood; he spent a year wandering until he was taken in by a Wood Elf man named Delaeon.

Delaeon was harsh to Kiel at first, disciplining him strictly for the rude child he was. But eventually, Delaeon grew fond of Kiel, teaching him all he knew about being a Ranger. The training was hard and intense, but fortunately Kiel was a natural and became almost as good as Delaeon. At eighteen, Delaeon kicked Kiel out on his ass, giving him nothing but a bow, (in poor condition) eighty rusty iron arrows, and an iron short sword. Kiel wasn't happy, and neither was Delaeon, but it was what was best for him. He spent seven years of being a freelance adventurer making his fame and fortune. He did this through various quests, looting dungeons, and he even did some work for the emperor. He success combined with youth made him a little bit too full of himself.

At age twenty five, a horrible surprise came to him, his Father was alive. He had only been wounded in the raid. Kiel discovered this by accident; he was in the city of Sentinel with a contract to clean out a pirate ship. He scaled the side of the docked pirate ship and killed two pirates on top of the deck. He made his way down and killed off the rest. He then entered the captain's quarters, he was not there. He searched the room and found a silver medallion; it was the same one Kiel's father told him he would inherit when he became a man. At first, Kiel was filled with rage. He believed that whoever had this medallion had stolen it off of his father corpse. Kiel dropped the medallion in his pocket. Kiel heard footsteps coming down the hall way, Kiel drew his cutlass, and prepared to kill his father's murderer. The door swung open, the ship's captain entered the room. It was Kiel's father. Kiel was shocked; he turned around and ran from the ship. He kept the medallion, but he did not go back to see his father, Kiel was ashamed of the pirate.

Since that day, his life was different, he became more serious, he was no longer a spirited youth, he was a matured man. He was recently hired to serve Prince Eadwyre Fitz-Elysana

ADETH's Character
Name: Adeth
Nickname: Call him whatever you like, call him a useless coward
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Birthsigns: The Shadow

Focus: Stealth
Skills(In Game, talents in *): Long blade*, Short blade, alchemy, destruction, security*, sneak*, Light armor
Skills(NonGame): making bad choices, cowardice (cant really give him skills...so you'll have to make it with those two.)
Class: Self-Trained Thief

Class Description: a self-trained thief is crude in his skills and without a guild to make him code bound. A self-Trained thief works on his own and for his own good.

General Appearance: http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d76/Adet...enShot63bmp.jpg

Hair: Dark brown hair, half way to his shoulders with a loose ponytail, and unbound it is always in the way
Eyes: Blue-Green
Height: 5'10
Build: Slightly acrobatic
Skin: bit tanned
Tattoos/Scars: check the picture

Personality: Adeth has low self-esteem so he's easily put down, he likes women and if he fails to protect them he'll be totally crushed. He's afraid of killing and will show mercy in such a situation. If he witnesses death closely he'll be traumatized.

Adeth tends to make bad choices, but he's loyal to his friends.

Weapon(s): a stolen silver sabre
Clothing/Armour: a dirty-ish black shirt and matching pants, leather gloves and boots

Inventory: Bits of gold, few loaves of bread, two bottles of wine

Misc Skills and Traits:
-cleptomaniac, he just happens to find bottles of alchohol and food in his bag
-Pathetic if he happens to be seen at his worst and that image tends to stick in people's minds
-Can get too familiar with people


Short Bio:
Adeth is an orphan who never knew his parents, he grew up in the streets of a city and stayed there. He hanged around bad company and often got into troubles which he tries to hide from people and just tells them he's a pirate and learned everything he knows from a captain.

Palace of Firsthold
Tirdas, 7th of Rain's Hand, 4E 6

Reman looked at all the documents set before him on his desk. Half he knew were letters from the Empire demanding that they relinquish Prince Eadwyre to them. Most were filled with some sort of incentive, a threat here, a bribe there, and most of them were decent offers, too. However, the King of Firsthold knew that he could never give up the Prince of Wayrest, unless he was willing to forfeit not only his honour, but the love of his wife.

It still confused him as to how Morgiah could accept the child Elysana. From what the dunmer had told him, her and the former Queen of Wayrest had never been on good terms, especially after she banished Morgiah's family from Wayrest. Maybe it was pity, or possibly sympathy for the young Prince's plight. All Reman knew that as soon as Eadwyre's ship docked in the harbor, Morgiah had gone running to meet him, and had been mothering him ever since.

Shaking his head, the Altmer turned his attention back to the parchment he had in his hands. It was announcment he had sent out across the Isle, requesting mercenaries. If his plan worked, he wouldn't have to worry about the Empire breathing down his neck anymore, and he would be rid of Prince Eadwyre.

"Elinhiir!" A stately looking Altmer came into the King's Office.

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"Would you please fetch for me Prince Eadwyre, I wish to speak with him."

***

Prince Eadwyre sat closed off in his apartments, his guards and attendants in presence as they always were. He was trying to decide what he would be doing that day when there was a light knock on the door. Out of the corner of his eye, the Prince saw his guards hand's move to their weapons.

"Get that, will you Swims?"

An Argonian stood from the crowd and move to open the door. Eadwyre sighed when he saw Elinhiir walk through the portal, his business face on. "And what does my uncle want from me today, Elinhiir?"

The Altmer bowed, "he requests your presence, your Highness."

"Right," Eadwyre drawled as he stood up from the bed he was laying on. "Who wants to come with me?" Eadwyre knew that not many of his guards or attendants wanted to go attend the King of Firsthold, for he was insufferable when it came to Eadwyre's status within his realm. "Anyone?"

OOC: Jumping in now; hope this is alright.
IC:

Clarissa (known most resolutely as 'Rissa' to these) had been working here as the prince's aide now for only a week. She had offered her services not out of patriotism, but rather curiosity. The intrigue surrounding Eadwyre had piqued her interest- particularly that Morgiah would ever have taken him in. So she had offered herself merely because she had been unable to resist trying to find out why. Of course, she also could not bear the idea of one so young being killed out of mere convenience, and did not trust to simple brawn- physical or magical- to care for him.

In only a week, she had come to greatly respect the young prince, and felt more comfortable in her role. I suppose I should have guessed... she thought, smiling a characteristically wry smile to herself. When have the Gods ever led me somewhere on such shakeable grounds?

She used 'led' in a much more abstract sense than most. The Gods had not ordered her to come here. It was more that she believed that where she went, the Gods willed. It seemed fate to her that she ended up here, though she was yet new to her position.

She sat there, back straight while she soundlessly pressed the keys on her flute, playing a song in her head rather than outloud. None of these had yet heard her music: it was something she kept close to her heart, and did not use flippantly, especially when her magic was tied so closely to it. Only a fool would display their talents for all to see... she thought, and on a more secretive note than this, part of her mind chimed, Only a fool would display their hearts for all to see...

It was as she was sitting there, her mind running through the fields of song that Elinhir appeared with a summons for the Prince.

"Who wants to come with me?" Eadwyre queried, his skepticism at volounteers appearing quite clear. "Anyone?"

Clarissa sighed and rose to her feet. "My lord," she said formally, for she would hate to seem her flippant- and somewhat insubordinate- self in front of Elinhir. "I would be delighted to accompany you, though my might is small. Whatever assisstance I may provide, I will..." she said graciously, bowing rather than curtsying as she was in leggings, not skirts.

Though her outfit was most certainly shabby- hardly fitting for an attendant to the Prince- she somehow appeared appropriate in it. As Clarissa was believed to be Eadwyre's minstrel rather than his agent, her clothing seemed appropriate. It also seemed appropriate to her as a person- it suited her looks, and her nature, to be attired so.

Eadwyre was pleased that Clarissa would be accompanying him to meet with King Reman. Nodding to the older woman, Eadwyre turned to face Elinhiir. "Well? We do not wish to keep his Majesty waiting, do we?" Eadwyre never really liked Elinhiir, always imagining that the courtier's mask hid a vile little man. His money-grubbing habits were certainly prevalent in his appearance, sometimes he even wore more majestic clothes than his master, King Reman. But that was beside the point. Elinhiir had served Reman and Morgiah for a decade and was trusted utterly by both of them.

Following the Altmer through the corridors of the Palace, Eadwyre whispered to Clarissa, "I thank you for accompanying me to visit with my royal step-uncle-in-law. The man is an unsufferable bore, and why he would want to meet with me this early in the morning is certainly something I would not want to find out on my own."

***

The Crooked Crane, Firsthold

The Crooked Crane was a pleasant tavern near the center of the city of Firsthold. It was clean, comfortable, and well-stocked with every sort of food or drink that locals or travelers could ask for. It was here that one of King Reman's agents had decided to put up one of the posters that were currently being spread out all over the city, asking that any person with daring in his heart, or a need for money, come to the Palace.

The agent had been asked what exactly King Reman's job was, but the tight-lipped man said nothing as he continued on his way to put up more of the posters.

OOC: Jumping in

IC: It was a cold, wet morning as Marcus heard the rain splatter on his roof. Marcus yawned as he got out of his bed, it was Tirdas, 7th of Rain's Hand, 4E 6. He put on his Dwarven armor, and grabbed his sword, who knows what might come day by day.
The muscular Nord took a glance out of his window, and saw the little children bouncing in the mood puddles. He looked over at one of his potions sitting there and thought, "I have to take a break, at least take a day off, I have to get out and do something." And he was on his way as he heard the clash of thunder in the deep gray sky. He went by the nearest store, which was ran my a Bosmer named Fanlir, "Hello Fanlir, have any boar meat?"
"Sure thing, Bash," and within 20 seconds, Marcus was leaving with his precious boar meat, the little children still playing in the puddles. He walked about the town, and walked into the crooked crane. He saw a royal poster and it read:

Mercenary for hire, if you are interested, report to the palace and speak to Prince Eadwyre Fitz-Elysana.

So he made his way to the palace. Prince he loned around, and sat down for about 20 minutes, when a butler confronted him, "Is there anything you need, Sir?"
"I would like to speak to Prince Elysana about the mercenary job, Sir."
"Oh, we have had quite a few interested, I will see if he can speak to you right away sir."
And the Butler was off. Marcus sat there fiddling with his boar meat.

Elinhir gave Clarissa a look she was becoming quite used to; it was a look that told her quite clearly that he thought her outfit ought to be punishable by law. She smiled sweetly at him, the expression deliberately perfect, and he narrowed his eyes at her slightly before turning to lead them to the King.

She followed alongside Eadwyre very unrepentantly; many in the palace had approached her about her attire, her behaviour, and all manner of other things since she had been appointed, but she had waved away all their complaints; they had hired her, and this was what she was.

The young breton prince whispered, "I thank you for accompanying me to visit with my royal step-uncle-in-law," Clarissa turned to look at him as he spoke: despite their age gap, the prince was still more than a few inches taller than her, seeming taller still thanks to his maturity. "The man is an unsufferable bore, and why he would want to meet with me this early in the morning is certainly something I would not want to find out on my own."

Clarissa's lips twitched upwards at the corners as she struggled not to smile. This, amonst other things, was one of the reasons she was so happy to serve Eadwyre. He'd have made an excellent bard, if he hadn't been wasted on royalty... she thought.

"Not even a chance he'll apologise on bended knee for disrupting your routine," she replied in a low voice, shaking her head. "I'll pinch you if you fall asleep while he points out what an inconvenience you are again..." The corner of her lip quirked up in a secretive smile. Her flippant disrespect would get her in trouble if Elinhir or any of the other courtiers caught her at it, but she rather felt that the jokes were more than worth it. Besides... she thought wryly. They always seem to 'forget' to tattle on me...

Marcus waited, and the butler came back, "I am terribly sorry sir, but I fear he is way now, but he should be on his way soon."
Marcus pulled a book off of the palace shelf and started reading, he had always loved to read since he was a child. Little children ran into the palace before him and struck mud everywhere. One of the noblemen yelled at a little Dunmer boy. The children ran away laughing.
Marcus was still waiting patiently for the Prince. He had nothing better to do at that moment, he had always worked so much and had never had time to do what he wanted, his potions were famous around town, and everyone bought them all of the time. He could still here the rain rattling, the thunder clapping, and the storm was rolling through. He waited a bit longer, and it stopped raining, the storm was gone.

Adeth had been drinking at the Crooked crane and was just leaving due to the people at the tavern being rahter rude. They were telling him off when he told them how he had just found quite a bit of gold. None of them believed him. They never did. He was being rather tipsy and angry but as he went outside and around a corner he saw a poster about the empire looking for a mercenary of sorts.

Adeth just grinned and thought this was his chance at becoming the hero for everyone. Especially since the thieves guild had turned him down when he somehow had stumbled over a member and ruined a vase the thief was carrying. But he didn't really know where the money he was bragging about came from. Things just happened to fall into his hands.

(Sorry for not posting, I didn't even know I was supposed to do that now. And then I forgot this. Been a bit off balance.)