Vella cursed under her breath as she leaned against the dust encrusted wall of the Rat in the Pot Inn, yanking her boot off roughly and dumping the sand and ash from inside onto the ground below. The hood of her cape did little to protect her from the raging winds though the scarf tied tightly around her lower face calmed them some. Her shimmering, almost glowing bright blue eyes peeked out from the cloth, squinting in the ash storm. From here she could still make out the sounds of the Silt Strider guide calling to people, gesturing them to take a trip. “And that is the last bloody time I do that,” the young Breton muttered to herself.
Ah, welcome to Ald'ruhn. It was a ashy little town about the size of your thumb plunkered down in the ass crack of the middle of no where. Aside from the Red Mountain that loomed to the northeast, there wasn’t a whole lot to comment on, nothing remarkable… well, aside what she came here for.
Moving into the tavern, Vella quickly scooted along to the side, locating the person she desired most. “Lirielle!” Thank the gods. “I have what you asked for.” Lirielle was a tool of the Thieves’ Guild, a guild that our dear Vella here was quite high in the ranks of. Lirelle soul a plethora of lock picks, clay, clothing, scrolls, potions… anything that could be used to help a thief become better at her job.
“Let’s see then,” replied the other bosmer, the woman’s eyes lighting up with surprise in the dim candle light. Customers bustled by behind Vella, no one noticing the exchange as she pulled the item from her pack at her hip.
“I don’t understand why you want this shoddy old thing,” the young woman sighed as she unfolded the tattered rag she had concealed it in. It was simply…. A ring. No inscription, no magical properties (that Vela knew of)… Just… a ring. “This is it right?”
Lirelle grasped the tiny piece of jewelry like it was worth more than her life’s savings. “Aye, this is it.”