Alinor's Scoundrels - The RP Thread #1

The OOC Thread: http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1512326-alinors-scoundrels-rp-ooc-1-interest-check-and-sign-up/

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The Setting and Timeline:

We live a time of political change, where looking back at the recent history remains a thick fog of uncertainty when predicting the future. The fourth era is a young one still, but has been a turmoil of intrigues, natural disasters, wars, alliances and betrayals. The third century has brought a time of almost thoughtful silence upon the provinces of Tamriel, the Great War having ended 4E 175 in the peace treaty known as the White-Gold Concordat, and further still with the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai in 4E 180. Wars continued to be fought, but no longer in the grand scale it once had. Even Skyrim's civil war has boiled down to a Stormcloak victory, following the leadership of Ulfric, whose voice proved invaluable on the field of battle.

The year is now 4E 212, the wounds of war finally healing between regions. Dragons have been hunted back into hiding and now provide merely a terrifying, yet rare, fright to daring adventurers across Tamriel. With a single unanimous enemy to fight, the scars of battle have been, if not forgotten, at least forgiven to a degree.

And so it is, that out of all the regions to suggest a festivity, the elves of Summerset Isle, known as Alinor ever since the Thalmor renamed the Isle in 4E 22, are the ones who have summoned figures from all across Tamriel to attend a grand commemoration in honor of the battles fought, at the capital city of Alinor, also called Alinor. Not everyone accepted the invitation, but those were in a minority. People of high, or very high importance join in this one month long celebration of peace, drinking to the bright future of them all. The ones who can change the fate of Tamriel all sharing their thoughts in the glass halls of Alinor's castle, a privilege in and of itself only adding to the curiosity of the people invited. Who'd want to miss a celebration like this?

While the royalties of every known province share a laughter, some guests aren't as easily satisfied. While the wine might flow free, it is hardly enough for those looking for a taste of the exotic. Alinor might be willing to provide the grandest of festivities of the third century, but within reason and restriction. The highly different laws of Tamriel clash and so the taste for finer substances has been prohibited, with measures to keep it so taken. But the demand is high and where there's a will, there's a way. The best of the best gather to enjoy the rich and generous hands gathered at Alinor's court, bringing the life to the party for guests with special needs. Opportunists with less skill also see a chance for great profit and so the commemoration is a gold mine for those willing to take the risk. You are no exception; the lucrative pay has you intrigued right from the start, and the chance to see Alinor for yourself is only an added bonus. You're eager to accept the offer, unknowing that you'll get more than you bargained for...

Welcome to Alinor's Scoundrels!
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The Ocean, 4E212, Late Evening, half a day away from Alinor.

Out on the wide ocean far from the comfort of its' homeland sailed a vessel named 'Wavebreaker'. It's name held none of the beauty of the ship; Not the tall three masts carved from brown-black wood, not the rails decorated with gold, nor the crimson sails that captured the gentlest of winds. The ship, fit for passengers numbering over a hundred, was a magnificent sight to see. The part touching the ocean was black, while the inside of 'Wavebreaker' was a warm dark brown. Elegant patterns were carved into every inch of it's hull, every cabin and room given paintings, carpets and decorations fit for royalty. The importance of the craft told of the importance of the guests, who were all dressed as beautifully as the ship. Kings and queens, princes and princesses, council members and diplomats; Everyone but the crew was of significant importance, all making their way to the isle of Alinor.

Well, unless you counted a few Scoundrels sitting for themselves in a cabin close to the crew's corner. These five figures, although dressed as fine as anyone on board, were nothing of the sort when examined closer. Neither crew or of importance, these professionals had a different motivation. It wasn't that Alinor didn't interest them; It certainly did. But these had been hired to deliver what the festivities truly desired; the life of the party. The substances to satisfy anyone's desires.

They were seated around a round oaken table, seated on cushioned chairs with red velvet, a few tankards of wine shared between them. An evening meal had been prepared for them, roasted slaughterfish with boiled mudcrab's egg and potatoes, served with a healthy portion of arrowroot sauce with a hint of blackberry. There was a number of different breads and cheeses available as well, for those who favoured cold food over warm. Wayn had taken a go at the hot meal, wielding a golden fork and knife like a professional, on a golden plate that gleamed in the lantern's light placed in the corners of the small cabin. You might fit ten people in this cabin, but that'd be very crowded. The walls were mostly empty, save for a large shelf with a number of items one might need for a fancy dinner: Forks, spoons, plates, goblets, all of different sizes, none made out of anything but gold.

Wayn eyed his future partners in crime. They had all introduced themselves to one another back in Anvil, but Wayn had barely been listening. His attention had largely been on Lareena the whole evening, the only Redguard in the company beside Wayn himself. Her reputation had sparked his curiosity much earlier than this meeting and true enough, Fayan had been intrigued as well; For here she was.

He refreshed himself with a mouthful of wine, richer than anything he'd tasted before, from his jeweled goblet made entirely of gold. Such were the common items aboard this ship. In the back of his mind, Wayn amused himself with the thought of merely plundering the ship of valuables and retiring from the real reason he was here. But that might do more harm to his reputation than it was worth and would deprive him the chance to see what truly was to be offered. He was starting to paint a fairly good picture of just how rich their clients might be, surrounding themselves with discardable objects like jeweled goblets of gold like this.

Moments passed as they amused themselves with curious tales, some true, some clearly not, of their past jobs, successes and failures. Wayn was starting to feel at ease in the group, perhaps thanks to the workings of the wine, perhaps something else. He smiled as he began telling an amusingly odd job he'd been tasked to do...

"...but enough of that." he said with a dismissive gesture of his hand, taking the discussion back to more serious topics, cutting short his tale when he reverse pick-pocketed a pair of women's underwear into a priest's pouch with the goal of banning him from the temple permanently.

"Anyone actually -been- to Alinor before? I've heard the place is as alien as a plane of Oblivion and our employer is a native born and raised there." he paused, now coming to the real reason for his sudden change into the more serious.

"Has anyone managed to dig deeper and found dirt on the guy? Who are we dealing with, exactly?" he eyed the now slightly more familiar figures around the table, hoping at least one of them had been more successful than he had.