"This is a disgrace!"

Valyon held his tongue no longer. He shot up to a stance, slamming his staff into the ground.

"If you are all members of the Mages' Guild, then I call myself ashamed to be your guildsmen. Put your mouths to silence, all of you bickering fools, or I shall at long last conjure a spell that will do what we all in this room have been praying for this whole time."

Llathras spoke to a general audience, but he was mostly aiming his words at the Redguard. The wizard came in wondering why Redguards with swords were at a Mages' Guild audience, and he obviously had a good intuition, as he was the only man that was really holding the group back from this point.

"You, Redguard, you seek to be a leader by threatening to take it. You could never command a mere dog with such a demeanor. Respect guides the hearts of many, but with threats of violence, you are nothing. Jagar Tharn was defeated because of such treachery, while the empire lived on through honorable Septim bloodline. You may use your fires on your enemies, but should you ever flash it in the face of my allies for unjust reasons, you shall see a wizard's wrath."

He had not spoken out in such a manner in a long time. This Redguard had simply driven his voice to anger and his thoughts to melevolence.

Marcus' eyes narrowed as the Redguard started to get angry and began arguing about leadership. What a waste of my time. I have no wish to deal with such scum that cannot control their own actions. Why they would let such a commoner as this skooma obsessed man into the ranks of the Guild is beyond me. Surely the standards haven't dropped that far yet...

"This is a disgrace! If you are all members of the Mages' Guild, then I call myself ashamed to be your guildsmen. Put your mouths to silence, all of you bickering fools, or I shall at long last conjure a spell that will do what we all in this room have been praying for this whole time. You, Redguard, you seek to be a leader by threatening to take it. You could never command a mere dog with such a demeanor. Respect guides the hearts of many, but with threats of violence, you are nothing. Jagar Tharn was defeated because of such treachery, while the empire lived on through honorable Septim bloodline. You may use your fires on your enemies, but should you ever flash it in the face of my allies for unjust reasons, you shall see a wizard's wrath."

Marcus rose from his seat and stared at the scene for a moment before speaking up himself. "Quite. Arguing with our fellows is one thing, but to threaten your ally, here in this place where we are to receive our missions? Are you trying to make a fool of yourself? Acting this way makes a mockery of the Guild which you serve."

That said, he turned towards Alexander, who had yet to comment. "I withdraw my offer to take the fort mission. I wish to be nowhere near this disgraceful trash. Even being in the same room as him irks me."

He remained standing there, waiting for the next person to speak, having said his piece. He disliked the man from the moment he has come into the room, due his noble blood. Some things cannot be unlearned, and his contempt for criminals and the dregs of society was one of those. His outburst had only served to enhance his natural dislike of the man. Whatever trace of his good mood that had remained was now swept away, as evidenced by the fierce scowl that had settled on his face. Even his normal sarcasm had faded away for the moment, as he was still using his serious demeanor.

Ignatius grew tired of the bickering. Staron had been picked due to his abilities being akin to his own. In one sense the Arch-Magister hoped that this would mean Ignatius would be able to easier control him to do what needed to be done and not let things get out of hand. Staron, even though he did not know it, was about one more mishap away from getting booted from the Guild all together, and this was his chance at redemption. Then within a flash of light, Ignatius unleashed a streak of fire through the center of the room between the two rows of benches. It made the sound of a lion, the heat of the room soaring to the point that even the Dunmer would flinch. Each person could feel themselves being pulled toward the center of the room slightly as the oxygen was swallowed up by the fire. Even so those who looked at Ignatius would see an almost icy cold stare from the man, a potion of fire within a capsule of ice.

"I'm hoping to leave the University before night fall and even though we will use the Mages Guild enchanted pad, I don't want to spend anymore time here than needed." He had lied. He wouldn't mind spending some more time with his new found acquaintance. "Now, Balrahn will lead the expedition to the fort. Both Edgar and Staron will go as well, the former so that things do not get out of hand, and Staron in case they do. Lethon will also accompany you three to the fort. I want the best discipline shown..." For a moment he regretted putting Staron there but better there than nowhere. "...you'll have a mercenary escort already paid for waiting in Bruma for you to march out with in case things get out of hand and to give you numbers."

"As for the hunting of the beast, Ashag will lead that group with Fir-Hess and Jerrod. You'll be making use of conjuration and the bow with Ashag as a strong base. I hope you can lead from the back. You will also have some local hunters from the village who have asked to help. Try not to get all of them killed." The last sentence was spoken a bit more casually than Ignatius would have hoped to come out. Hopefully a kill at a distance could be used by the bow and if not enough conjured monstrosities would be thrown up as a shield to repel whatever was in those dark Nordic forests."

"Serjo Llathras..." He spoke using the Dunmer term for respect, perhaps out of his partial Dunmeri lineage in which he never truly got a feel for even in Cheydinhal or the fact that Llathras was older than a couple of the members present combined. "...I am trusting you with the Serpent's Jade and catching the Blue Fox." This was the first time he had used the blade's name in front of the others. "I will show you the blade in Bruma and with you will be Tucharon, Marcus and myself. I will be under taking some personal errand so you are in charge of organizing the trap. There are still several Blades at Cloud Ruler Temple where the trap will be laid and if you need, Fighter's Guild members to help out."

"Any questions?"

(OOC: If it's a big question that will help with the story line please ask away. But if it's something minor that could be dealt with in the OOC thread let's just deal with it there so we don't wait around the University until next fall.)

Balrahn



The Redguard wrapped in blue material sat patiently as more people entered the room -- two sat near him, greeting him as they sat. He didn’t reply -- he just raised his eyes to look at them before turning back to the window to stare outside.

He could feel something crawling across his chest -- something almost liquid moving over his heart under his skin. It was a feeling he’d been familiar with for many years since he had mastered his art, but was never something one could get used to. He drew a tight breath into his lungs and quickly exiled it sharply and repeated, until a stabbing pain ran through his chest and down his spine.

The pain lasted no more than ten seconds then dissipated, replaced by a chilling sensation that made every hair on his body stand on end. Just as he opened his eyes and resumed his staring into space he heard the unpleasant sound of bad attitudes all around.

Several people complained about the tardiness of Ignatius, others pointed out the severe amount of more warrior orientated mages in the group -- Balrahn assumed he was counted amongst that number, though it would be foolish to make such assumptions. One Orc even relayed to the room how big his package was, not that it was relevant to the conversation -- not that the conversation even made sense as disjointed as it was. Balrahn sat and stared, fighting the urge to flay every last one of the snake tongued mages who’s only talent seemed to be boasting their arrogance and impatience.

Then finally, Ignatius arrived into the room -- Balrahn watched him with rapt attention, he was the man the red guard had come to listen to, not the rest of the flock who’s words bounced around like beads. Ignatius barely had time to talk before the room erupted again, the ash like volcanic ash of words flowing around almost as dense as real volcanic ash.

He paid no mind to it, he concentrated quietly on Ignatius and waited again for him to speak -- but instead of speaking he launched a torrent of fire through the room that thinned the air dramatically, pulling all the oxygen its greedy body could devour into itself.

When the bellowing fire evaporated into the stagnantly hot air Ignatius began speaking in a stern measured voice -- illustrating three problems that the corvine had been elected to deal with in light of the Empires quickly drying resources and man power. It had come to Balrahn’s attention long ago that the fighter’s guild was working with the Legion to maintain what little authority the had left through the empire, as well as providing more men for her border’s, so it seemed only logical that the Mages guild -- with its many talented and powerful casters should pick up the slack where the fighters guild could not.

Everybody else complained about how menial the task was.

Balrahn ignored them.


"Now, Balrahn will lead the expedition to the fort. Both Edgar and Staron will go as well, the former so that things do not get out of hand, and Staron in case they do. Lethon will also accompany you three to the fort. I want the best discipline shown...you'll have a mercenary escort already paid for waiting in Bruma for you to march out with in case things get out of hand and to give you numbers."

He looked up at Ignatius and nodded in acknowledgement to his new role as party leader. He had experience with battle outside of the guild against all manner of characters and creatures, he also had experience however brief, with a warlord. He couldn’t blame Ignatius for choosing him.

“The mages guild’s will is my own, I shall deal with the warlord by sun up tomorrow. My word is my honour.” He said quietly, his bass like tones and unusual accent rolling over the word’s the same way his fathers did. It was something he picked up from his father, who would often say the same thing to superior officers in front of him, save for the words Mages guild, which where replaced with the word Legion. “We leave as soon as every one is ready. No breaks, no argument.”





OOC: If your wondering what kind of accent Balrahn has, It would be TES equivelant to Nigerian.

Jerrod, Meeting Hall

He listened to Alexander as he laid out the details for each man, mer, and beast in the room.

"As for the hunting of the beast, Ashag will lead that group with Fir-Hess and Jerrod. You'll be making use of conjuration and the bow with Ashag as a strong base. I hope you can lead from the back. You will also have some local hunters from the village who have asked to help. Try not to get all of them killed."

The last of his words were edgy. They were said casually, but Jerrod didn't like it. For all he knew this was no wolf or even a dreugh. This was something else. A chill made its way up Jerrod's spine. It seemed as cold as the snow of the Jerrals, passing through the wind under gray skies. This had to be done quickly; if it wasn't, the hunter would become the hunted.

There had to be some information on this strange beast. Jerrod wanted to know if someone had come back alive with any information or if everyone sent to even find it never returned. Whatever it was that was out there, he was sure of one thing: it didn't like fire. It didn't matter what it was. If it lived in the frosty climate of Skyrim, then it wasn't going to like the five crimson arrows hanging in Jerrod's quiver. Then it came to him again: he didn't know how fast or strong this beast was. When hunters hunted they knew what they were hunting. There had to be some kind of lead off, some kind of information. Someone had to have seen something: to send someone blindly into the snowy woods of Skyrim meant death. The least possible amount of information they could have was where it was. Perhaps they could wait on it.

All of these thoughts filled Jerrod's head, and it puzzled him. He had his bow, but what if this thing got close and the others weren't around to help? Then he remembered, as he peered down into one of the little sacks. He loosened a bit and peered inside, revealing small almost paper-like black spheres. They weren't magical, but on anything they were painful. It was powder glass. One hit to the eyes and tiny bits of glass would be inserted into the eye socket. Still, he didn't want to get close to this thing at all, but if it approached him he would have a moderate chance at possibly blinding it or at least hindering its sight. He hoped the Orc and the Argonian had something crafty up their sleeves.

A moment of silence fell through the room after one of the other Redguards, Balrahn by the name, gave him solemn word. It appeared he was a Ra Gada of honor. Jerrod liked that. As for the silence, it was uncomfortable. It seemed like a school teacher was trying to find the culprit of a rude and rule-breaking task. His eyes perked up to Alexander's as he asked his question.

"The beast...has anyone returned from seeing it or even being near it? Do you know who it was able to kill, or if it goes back to the same spot? Has anyone returned with any unusual tree marks or a sign? Surely someone has at least encountered it and gotten out alive..."

Jerrod peered over at the Argonian first, and then the Orc.

You both better be ready...

After Ignatus' fireworks display, Fir-hess sat down catching his breath and getting used to room temperature again, the day had already been hellishly humid and that message to quit bickering and arguing did not help...at all, but he listened as people got assigned and leaders set up, which oddly enough he was going with Jerrod and the orc, didn't seem so bad, even if Jerrod gave the both of them a 'don't screw up' look.

and there was also the good question he brought up of the description of this animal, DID anyone see it? track it? is it a boar or a werewolf, or nine knows what? Really 'Hess would leave the tracking to redguard if it came to it. Even with everyone here having their own smell to the lizard, when it came to upwind and downwind and tracking over miles, better leave it to one used to that, and....Ashag, was it? Would probably keep both of them and the hunters alive and positive, for a Orc that could probably snap 2x4s without trying he didn't seem like such a high strung guy.

Yup, this was gonna be easy enough...right?

Ashag kept an unscrutable face as the agitation grew. Hiding a cringe as the drughead made a farce out of the reunion by clamoring aloud for leadership. Can't the moron figure out that we're proposing ourselves and Ignatius is the one who decides. He burned his chance on that one...

A thought that turned almost prophetic as Ignatius used a rather impressive fire spell to calm the agitation down before assigning the positions. Despite the show Ashag barely winced, having been on the receiving en of that sort of things several time while serving in the Legion. He listened carefully for th positions. Being a leader didn't please him much, but at least he wouldn't have a cranky skooma-guzzler on withdrawal to deal with. Compared to that an absent-minded argonian was nothing.

As Jerrod voiced his questions, Ashag completed them “From what you've said, sir, and investigator has been sent – we'll nee a copy of his report. Or if by 'what was sent back' you mean what was left of him, me and Jerrod should have look at it. The local hunters can probably tell us more, but I'd rather have some notion of what we're facing in case we need something special to deal with it that can't be obtained in Bruma.”

He turned to face both the Fir-Hess and Jerrod “Beyond that, I'll need about one hour to pack my things. Nothing fancy, armor, my healers kit and alchemy equipment. You should do the same and keep to the essentials – magic supplies, weapons and protections. Food and travel gear, we can get in Bruma, and they'll be better suited to the weather than what we can get here. Though not more than a muleload, we need to travel light in the moutains.”

He smiled to th argonain, in an half-joking tone "And if it turns out it's some werid critter, it won't be a ruin but you'll be able to stufy it ot your heart's content. Though not before it's either dead or secured for sure. I don't believe in taking chance, even for knowledge's sake"

Another ten minutes, another spout of bickering and unnecessary threats in a room among the Arcane University filled with unworthy people. While the mages had appeared respectful and courtly, the Redguards and other men with blades and armor that Valyon had mentally questioned before even knowing them had proven to be all what the wizard had expected. While many of them had calmed down, the one who threatened an ally with fire had an odd stench about him. His eyes itched, and it was likely no secret to any in the room that, though he might have been chosen for these assignments due to talent, he was hooked on one of the Empires many black substances. Skooma? That would be a good guess. In Cyrodiil, one would have very little trouble getting ahold of Skooma. When Llathras Valyon was in Morrowind, he lived in the immense Vivec City, and it was quite easy to come by Moon Sugar, but he had never fooled around with anything like it.

Ignatius silenced the room with a feat even the aged wizard respected. He admired the searing flames, curling up toward the ceiling and evaporating into the air while the heat burrowed toward his dark skin like a wave. He was the only dunmer here, and thus his skin was impervious to such an act, but it would likely get the attention of the other men, Imperials and Redguards and Bretons who did not share the dark skin of the dunmer.

Alexander Ignatius went on to finally get to the point, dividing up the people in the room to certain tasks. He questioned sending the redguards together, as they had already proven once to be anything but friendly to eachother, but if the young man thought it would work, well, he was in a better position to know than the wizard was.

"Serjo Llathras, I am trusting you with the Serpent's Jade and catching the Blue Fox. I will show you the blade in Bruma and with you will be Tucharon, Marcus and myself. I will be under taking some personal errand so you are in charge of organizing the trap. There are still several Blades at Cloud Ruler Temple where the trap will be laid and if you need, Fighter's Guild members to help out."

Valyon cocked his brow as the young imperial spoke. He showed much knowledge and respect, and immediately any quesitons as to why this man was in charge had vanished.

"Very well, Master Ignatius. If it would profit the guild, the Fighter's chapter should not be necessary if I have two companions and a contingent of Blades. I look forward to seeing this blade, it must be something of a marvel to spur an infamous theif to grasp its handle. I have a plan to catch the theif, but to do so, I must have a few hours to myself to gather provisions from around the Imperial City. With us all knowing where we must go, shall I depart, and meet you and my fellow guildsmen at the northern wall of Bruma tomorrow night?"

IC: Edgar remained in his seat throughout the entire episode with the Redguard. Throughout the (now quite obviously mad) man's threats, throughout the resulting lectures from the know-it-all mages, and even during Ignatius' impressive display of fire. The Breton was usually a fairly good natured man, and he had grown accustomed to the eccentric attitudes of mages throughout the years, but such behavior from the crew hand chosen for the good of the Empire left him with a sour look in his eye. The Redguard aggrivated him quite a bit, he shouldn't even be here, but the others, those who thought themselves oh-so-high-and-mighty by throwing about long winded lectures, they nearly made him lose it himself.

Their fearless leader seemed to have gotten things running again with his roaring fire storm, but what interested Edgar more than the magic were the eyes of the man who cast it. He almost felt glad he wouldn't be serving next to those eyes- those fiercely calm eyes.

"Now, Balrahn will lead the expedition to the fort. Both Edgar and Staron will go as well, the former so that things do not get out of hand, and Staron in case they do. Lethon will also accompany you three to the fort. I want the best discipline shown... you'll have a mercenary escort already paid for waiting in Bruma for you to march out with in case things get out of hand and to give you numbers."

Edgar wondered for a moment what he had done to upset the young Imperial. Surely he had handled the crazy Redguard well enough, he had made sure of that, so why was the linen wrapped Redguard chosen over him? 'He hadn't even volunteered,' Edgar thought sullenly. Nonetheless, he had always accepted his orders without complaint in the past, and now was not a good time to start.

“The mages guild’s will is my own, I shall deal with the warlord by sun up tomorrow. My word is my honour.” The Redguard's accent was deep and thick, but understandable enough. His voice, combined with his eccentric clothing, made the man seem very alien to Edgar, though his fidelity felt all too natural. 'Curious, very curious.'

“We leave as soon as every one is ready. No breaks, no argument.” Edgar nodded at this second statement, finding himself in complete agreement. This was no vacation, he thought once more, and they would need a strict hand to keep the Redguard in line.

The battlemage rose to his feet quietly, picking up the cuirass and gauntlets he had removed earlier. 'Gods, it feels like ages ago,' he thought, retying his bandana once more, setting his soft gray eyes on the strange Redguard across the room. The others were still questioning Ignatius, sitting like children in a lecture hall, but he had work to do, and a new commander to do it with.

Edgar strode over to the man, walking behind the others, fitting his armor back on as he went. He looked the oddly dressed mage down one more time, buckling the last strap on his cuirass as he reached the Redguard, realizing for the first time his age. He must have been at least twenty years Edgar's senior, perhaps more. He slipped his left gauntlet on, extending his naked right out towards the man named Balrahn.

"Good to be working with you, sir. I am Edgar Wickcroft, and as I said I am a battlemage under the Order of the Lamp. Use my skills wherever you see fit," he finished with a slight bow, bringing his left hand to his chest with a closed fist, an age old sign of respect and loyalty. Always best to start off on a good note, and there were few that didn't enjoy authority.

Lethon was amazed at the inferno that blazed in the air above him, he hadn't expected something like that coming from the imperial that stood before him. Although as he felt the air slip from his lungs the amazment changed to anoyance but atleast it brought order to the room. This was quite the rowdy bunch twice the imperial had to bring the group to silence. Finally though things were moving forward as the imperial announced the groups and leaders and of course he was with two other redguard and the breton. The redguard who sat beside him was chosen as leader and up until this point he had forgotten the man was even sitting there after ignatius had finished the redguard spoke for the first time during the whole precession.

“The mages guild’s will is my own, I shall deal with the warlord by sun up tomorrow. My word is my honour.” He said quietly, his bass like tones and unusual accent rolling over the word’s the same way his fathers did. It was something he picked up from his father, who would often say the same thing to superior officers in front of him, save for the words Mages guild, which where replaced with the word Legion. “We leave as soon as every one is ready. No breaks, no argument.”

Lethon was glad to hear that, guy sounded efficient. He might make a good leader although no doubt that redguard who made a scene earlier will give him more problems than he's worth. It'll be good to see how this Balrahn will deal with him. He didn't care what kind of leader he was really it didn't matter this was a hired job leadership hadn't had a whole lot of meaning. It was just a title as far as lethon was concerned when it came to action they would have to rely on each other which is why that redguard presented a problem in his opinion. Whoes to say this guy won't go half cocked at the wrong time over something so trivial.

Lethon stood up at that and began fixing his armor back, slipping the chaimail over his chest the tattered cloth bearly hanging on over the mail it had seen better days. He slipped the leather gauntlets back on and had just hefted his mace back up when the breton materialised in front of him holding his hand out to Balrahn and bowing. Lethon was amused by this, the guy obviously seemed worried about impressions.

"Save it pal, you should worry more about the job then making good impressionss. With that I will meet you at the gates I have to pay a visit to the smithy he has an axe waiting for me also need a few repairs made" He gestured to the steel mace at his side when he said this. "and I'm gonna get a drink in before we're off no telling how long before it will be before I have another, though from what I hear about nords might not be too long." He said to the two of them as he tied his hair to together. When he was finished he held the mace on his shoulder and began to make his way towards the door.

Tucharon watched the exchange of dialogue, seeing the hostilities grow. At least it seemed to him like the hostilities were going up. Regardless, he wanted to see what would happen, if nothing else. I just hope this doesn't escalate beyond words, I don't want to lose this job opportunity.

The spellsword's train of thought was once again broken by Alexander, this time by a fire spell. It roared loudly and the temperature in the room briefly spiked. He was startled by this unexpected displayand nearly fell out of his seat. After a second or two of realizing what had just happened, he regained his composure and turned again towards the Imperial. Tucharon listened carefully to what the man then said.

"I'm hoping to leave the University before night fall and even though we will use the Mages Guild enchanted pad, I don't want to spend anymore time here than needed.

"Now, Balrahn will lead the expedition to the fort. Both Edgar and Staron will go as well, the former so that things do not get out of hand, and Staron in case they do."

Looks like I'm not with the fort expedition. Tucharon didn't bother to pay much attention to the details regarding it, as it did not concern him in the least.

"As for the hunting of the beast, Ashag will lead that group with Fir-Hess and Jerrod."

Good, this should hopefully leave me with doing the trap. Provided he decided to hire me at all...

"Serjo Llathras...I am trusting you with the Serpent's Jade and catching the Blue Fox. I will show you the blade in Bruma and with you will be Tucharon, Marcus and myself. I will be under taking some personal errand so you are in charge of organizing the trap. There are still several Blades at Cloud Ruler Temple where the trap will be laid and if you need, Fighter's Guild members to help out."

Excellent, I got the trap mission. And we can get Fighters Guild and Blades support, excellent. I can't say I know much about this Dunmer, but he looks pretty experienced. I have so many ideas for the mission... Alexander then spoke once again.

"Any questions?"

Tucharon personally didn't have any questions, as they weren't his problem; he was just to be a follower on this expedition. He didn't mind either; he knew very little about the mission and as it wasn't a research expedition, he probably wasn't the best person to lead it. He turned towards the Dunmer who would be his leader, waiting to see what the mer would ask. After a few others had spoken, this Dunmer, apparently known as Serjo Llathras, spoke up.

"Very well, Master Ignatius. If it would profit the guild, the Fighter's chapter should not be necessary if I have two companions and a contingent of Blades. I look forward to seeing this blade, it must be something of a marvel to spur an infamous theif to grasp its handle. I have a plan to catch the theif, but to do so, I must have a few hours to myself to gather provisions from around the Imperial City. With us all knowing where we must go, shall I depart, and meet you and my fellow guildsmen at the northern wall of Bruma tomorrow night?"

Well, it looks like he's already got a plan. It's probably safer than the one I had in mind.

"The beast...has anyone returned from seeing it or even being near it? Do you know who it was able to kill, or if it goes back to the same spot? Has anyone returned with any unusual tree marks or a sign? Surely someone has at least encountered it and gotten out alive..." Jerrod's questions about the beast were only natural, however information was scarce due to the prowess of the creature. Ashag likewise added, “From what you've said, sir, and investigator has been sent – we'll nee a copy of his report. Or if by 'what was sent back' you mean what was left of him, me and Jerrod should have look at it. The local hunters can probably tell us more, but I'd rather have some notion of what we're facing in case we need something special to deal with it that can't be obtained in Bruma.”

" We know that it is large enough to bite more then half of a man's torso from the side. We know this only from the corpses we've gotten back. Aside from that some villagers claim it's some sort of wolf creature. The tracks are unrecognizable." Although the beast hunt was the most 'humble' of the tasks it would prove the most tricky. Thieves and warlords weren't anything new and perhaps neither was this creature but not knowing added fear and doubt in people.

Ignatius turned to Llathras but only with his eyes, his form remained statued remarkably still. "Very well, Master Ignatius. If it would profit the guild, the Fighter's chapter should not be necessary if I have two companions and a contingent of Blades. I look forward to seeing this blade, it must be something of a marvel to spur an infamous theif to grasp its handle. I have a plan to catch the theif, but to do so, I must have a few hours to myself to gather provisions from around the Imperial City. With us all knowing where we must go, shall I depart, and meet you and my fellow guildsmen at the northern wall of Bruma tomorrow night?"

"Make it tomorrow afternoon if possible. We should use tomorrow as much as we can for the planning. We suspect that the Blue Fox may even be one of our informants or a member of the Guild itself. Any time wasted is a determent to our goals."

After giving a brief look over the crowd in the room he added one last comment. "Disperse. Unless given specific orders we will be meeting up at the Guild transport by noon." And he walked through the room and was about his way. This would give the others room and time to prepare themselves. The Imperial City may have been hit by a heat wave but Bruma's winter would last several more weeks of harsh wind and snow. Soon enough everyone would wish they were back in the warmth rather than the cold.

When Ignatius finally reacted to the approaching chaos, it wasn't quite the response Marcus had been expected. As the flurry of flames passed him, he noted absently that his malfunctioning spell was no longer working, as he could definitely feel the heat in that moment. Once everything had calmed down, Ignatius handed out the tasks, and Marcus was pleased to note he had gotten the mission he had requested, as well as the teammates that were the least irritating, in his opinion.

He glanced briefly at the other members that would be coming along on the mission. He had no real opinion of them, which really was for the best, considering his opinion of most people was negative.

He remained quiet as questions were asked, as he didn't care one way or another about the mission at the moment. He wasn't the leader, so why should he? Better to worry about it when it actually is important rather than when nothing can be done about it. Besides, he figured, more information would be available on site than here.

"Very well, Master Ignatius. If it would profit the guild, the Fighter's chapter should not be necessary if I have two companions and a contingent of Blades. I look forward to seeing this blade, it must be something of a marvel to spur an infamous theif to grasp its handle. I have a plan to catch the theif, but to do so, I must have a few hours to myself to gather provisions from around the Imperial City. With us all knowing where we must go, shall I depart, and meet you and my fellow guildsmen at the northern wall of Bruma tomorrow night?"

Marcus turned towards his team leader in curiosity for a moment. A plan already? Is he some sort of genius or something to come up with a plan with only the bare minimum of information on the spot? Very impressive. He mused further on that for a moment with a slight smile on his face before Ignatius interrupted his thoughts.

"Make it tomorrow afternoon if possible. We should use tomorrow as much as we can for the planning. We suspect that the Blue Fox may even be one of our informants or a member of the Guild itself. Any time wasted is a determent to our goals. Disperse. Unless given specific orders we will be meeting up at the Guild transport by noon."

With that, he left, and Marcus himself felt he had no reason to linger. He nodded his head ever-so-slightly to his soon to be team mates in a rare sign of respect. "I look forward to working with you gentlemen. If you will excuse me, I have matters to look into before our departure tomorrow."

He walked out the door after that, headed back towards his room. He had papers to sort out before he could leave, and he would have to inform his father that he was headed out of the city. He grimaced at that. Speaking to his father would likely require meeting with the rest of his "family," which he wasn't looking forward to. On the other hand...

He started walking with a slight spring in his step and a rather pleasant smile on his face, scaring some of the younger mages as he walked past them. After all, if he wasn't in the city, he wouldn't have to see his family for the entire duration of his mission. For once, he had a silver lining.

After Ignatius more or less dismissed everyone, Fir-Hess got up, giving a nod and small bow to those he would be hunting with, picked up his staff, and took his leave for the inn room he had rented a district over.

Even though he had till noon his mind swirled with all he had to get done, take down notes of important points of the meeting and his assignment, put away books and find some on creature cataloging, dig up runes for useful daedra that would need to be summoned and bound for this hunt, look through the clothes he packed and see what he could wear under his robes so he wouldn't freeze to death, get something to eat, etc.

At least it was better than being bored for a few hours...

When Ignatius explained what little information he had on the creature, Ashag whistled softly. “Something wolf-like and big enough to bite more than halfway through a man's torso. It doesn't match anything I know about, though a 'were of some sort is the most likely.” He spoke to his two partners “I will get some silver arrows and maybe a few spearheads too. If that things is a 'were, that will help the local hunters a lot. We'll meet back at the transporter.”

Now that he knew a bit more, Ashag left for the Guild's suppliers to get what he had in mind – thirty silver arrows and four assorted spearheads. Fitting them to shafts would be a quick job for the local weaponsmith. Then he headed straight for his quarter to pack his supplies; mostly some warm leather and wool clothing along with his armor. He packed his gear with the efficiency learned in the Legion, filling a backpack – a large model fitted with a wooden frame – and hanging the rest to it. After having donned the warm clothes and armor the pack would be enough, but he saw no point in wearing them before they were in Bruma. It would achieve nothing but drenching him in sweat.

"Very well, then, Master Ignatius. I shall report to the teleportation pad at noon on the morrow."

Llathras Valyon spoke. He looked over the men who would accompany him. Of the people in the room, they seemed to be most at place. Battlemages, effective for missions such as this. Not orcs or redguards, but well-spoken members of the guild. After this forgettable evening, he was pleased to know his companions for the mission were two of the most honorable men in the room. They would be of great use for the mission, as he could tell they were both competent, and neither would speak out of tone against him should they be against his ideas. He had a small plan, but was widely open to change. After all, his plan was not fool-proof. Not even close.

But one thing Valyon noticed is one thing he particularly liked. At first, when he entered the room and spoke, nobody answered. Every time he stood to offer his voice, he could feel eyes burning at him with glances of judgement. Now, whenever he spoke, he did not feel the piercing gaze of those in the room, but he felt more of a sort of admiration and respect, which could be returned from the wizard to others much easily than judgement.

The wizard straightened his posture, brought his staff infront of him, and bowed his head to the imperial. With that, he left.

He immediately made his way to the market, using what gold he had on him for potions, food, and other necessities for a common endeavor. But this was more than a common endeavor. For this mission, he returned to the academy as the sun began to set with the supplies he purchased, and made his way to the Chironasium. There, he met with an old friend of his named Delmar. Valyon did not offer any information on his mission, but reached into his robe to pull out two unmarked scrolls. With a feather pen, the wizard wrote "Under cover of shadow, darkness bind me," in ayleid tongue and handed it to Delmar.

"These are of utmost importance. I shall return for them tomorrow before noon. Be sure they will work."

With his preparations done, he retired for the night. As he stripped free of his robes, his hand came down to the ruby medallion that draqed from his neck. He had been working on enchanting this for years, but still it lay dormant. With a gentle tug, he broke it free from his body, and brought it to the light in the corner of the room. His eyes pierced into the silver decor around the ruby, and as they drove into the gem itself, it gave out a dim glow.

OOC: Sorry for not posting! End of semester bussiness and such.

IC:

Why was the soul more of a play thing than an empty corpse? This was the question Ignatius asked himself as he stood on the Arcane transport pad with all it's intricate patterns, symbols that no words could speak, patterns of the past and of the future. It was expensive to teleport people especially over such great distances, the toll being no less than the crystallized souls of beasts. Teleporting was a dangerous spell attempted only when needed. Stories of people being lost in the 'inbetween world' or landing in the jaws of some Daedra prince were common even as urban legends amongst city dwellers. But still Ignatius wondered, why was it ok to use a soul for this, and enchanting, and yet there was a ban on Necromancy. Was it really so wicked to animate an empty corpse? And if so how is that worse than tampering with an actual soul? Ignatius couldn't help but wonder if the ban on necromancy was more political than anything else. Far be it for him to espouse favortism for necromancy, the whole concept frankly freaked him out and on more than one occasion did he sunder rotting corpses with sword and fire. But the hypocracy was un-ignorable. Nobody spoke up however under the fear of being claimed a necromancer, a certain death sentence.

Where was she? She was late more often than he was.

OOC: Feel free to post your arrival and in the next post we'll be in Bruma.

Balrahn




"Good to be working with you, sir. I am Edgar Wickcroft, and as I said I am a battlemage under the Order of the Lamp. Use my skills wherever you see fit," The Breton who had been grouped under Balrahn’s lead said before the Redguard could even reach the door, bumping his fist against his chest -- an old sign of respect adopted by many soldiers throughout the empire. After all -- shaking hands with gauntlets is a difficult task.

“Edgar, yes?” Balrahn said, hoping he’d remembered the man’s name, he didn’t want to cause enmity with a comrade over something so menial. “I think it best that you use your own skills where you see fit, and I will use mine where I see fit.” he finished, chuckling lightly to himself as he turned to the door, before he got there however the next member of his group approached offering a few words of his own to Edgar.

"Save it pal, you should worry more about the job then making good impressionss. With that I will meet you at the gates I have to pay a visit to the smithy he has an axe waiting for me also need a few repairs made" He gestured to the steel mace at his side when he said this. "and I'm gonna get a drink in before we're off no telling how long before it will be before I have another, though from what I hear about nords might not be too long."

“And from what I hear about first imressions, you are not making a very good one my friend. I would sooner run onto the end of a spear than have to rely on an intoxicated comrade -- No alcohol. I’m sure the Nord’s have plenty of mead to drink during or after our peace talk‘s.” Balrahn said slowly and directly, he had witnessed a drug addict in the room, the last thing he wanted to deal with was a drunk -- the man could be going for one drink or twenty, Balrahn just didn’t now him well enough to say.

With that he ducked out of the room back into blearing sunlight -- thanking whoever came up with the desert garb attire he was wearing, which was so full of air pockets in the different layers of material that he was able to keep quite cool and comfortable even in a scorching desert. He walked on through the crowd -- parting intimidated looking apprentice mages with a glance as they relaxed in the sun, moving just ahead of Ignatius into a second building.

Before him stood a large platform, covered in all manner of strange symbols colours and outlandish patterns. He had never enjoyed the feeling of teleportation -- it left a strange ice cold pit in his stomach every time, as if his body had been transported but his day’s meals had been left behind.

“Bruma branch.” He said to the mage overseeing the equipment, who nodded briefly and turned away as Balrahn stepped up onto the platform with eyes closed.

The next thing he knew he was weightless -- floating through an abyss that he dared not open his eyes to look into; then without warning he was heavier than a rock in water, plummeting faster and faster, his stomach doing a circus’ worth of cartwheels inside him. Then, he opened his eyes to find himself firmly planted on the ground surrounded by anxious but not surprised mages of the Bruma chapter.

“I need briefing.” Balrahn said to the nearest mage as he stepped off the platform. “As soon as my men arrive.”

OOC: I presume it's supposed to be a bit later. If not, just tell me and I'll fix my post.

"I would like to buy a Cure Poison Potion and a Potion of Dispel," Tucharon spoke. The alchemist nodded, walking to her desk and rummaging through the bottles underneath. She grabbed two and placed them on the desk.

"That will be 120 gold"

Tucharon reached into his satchel and pulled out a few handfuls of Septims, placing them on the desk. After waiting impatiently for the alchemist to count the gold, Tucharon took his potions and stuck them into his satchel. He hurried out of the Lustratorium, worried. He hadn't been able to sleep much that night, having been burning with anticipation for the mission. By the time he managed to get to sleep, he ended up sleeping until about half an hour before noon. Now it was almost noon.

I have my sword, shield, armor, and satchel. I don't think I need to bring anything else. He spotted Alexander walking towards the guild transportation building. I guess that's where I'm to be headed. Good thing I noticed. He followed Alexander into the building where he beheld the guild teleporter.

Quite a step up from walking to Bruma, but not what I'd call a masterpiece. The teleporter's power was not unlimited, it had to be recharged like an enchanted item. Tucharon disliked it, believing the design to be inefficient. Still, it was a great convenience, especially in weather like this. He watched as another one of the mages stepped onto the teleporter and was sent away. Tucharon would follow, but his orders were clear; meet Alexander here at noon. Now all that was left was to wait for the others to arrive.

OOC: Hey sorry ive been busy. Someone fill me in please where im suppoused to be.

OOC: From the look of it, it's been skipped ahead to the next day around noon, when we were to meet at the teleporter.

(I really like how Solidor explains teleportation. Never even thought of it.)

Valyon woke up the next morning, and as soon as his tire vanished from his body, he adorned himself in a dark blue robe with a brown fur cuff with a hood. Though for the moment he was burning up from dressing so warm, he would fit perfectly in the cold climate of Bruma and Skyrim.

The wizard immediately took his staff and went to the door. As he left, his eyes looked toward the sky. Not a cloud littered the beautiful blue of the heavens above, and the sun was tilted to the east. He still had about two hours before noon, when the sun was the object of the White-Gold Tower's direction. He would finalize his preparations around the academy before he would meet with the group in Bruma. His first step was in the Chironasium, where he had a favor ready to be completed. When he met with the head of the enchantment process in the building, all had appeared to have gone smoothly.

"Here you are, wizard. Two scrolls enchanted to your request. Quite potent, I do hope they serve their purpose," Delmar said as he retrieved the scrolls and handed them over.

"And I as well. Your services have been greatly appreciated. Without these, my mission would be quite difficult. I thank you," Llathras Valyon replied, taking the scrolls and turning over two hundred gold in return.

With the scrolls in hand, he made his way to the teleportation pad. He closed his eye, muttering "Bruma" before a sudden pressure took hold of him. Every inch of his body felt a slight squeeze, every muscle reacting accordingly, and in a split moment he was released, and he could feel a cool breeze take over his body as he transported in a flight. When he opened his eyes, he had arrived. He saw one of the members of his group. He walked up to him, nodding his head, and reaching out one of the scrolls he had made.

"I never got to ask the level of your Illusion prowess, but in case you cannot conceal yourself using magic, I had this created. It will last eight hours, started after your tongue commands it and retractable any time between. I will brief you on its purpose in a moment."

Llathras Valyon bowed his head as he moved on to Ignatius, who seemed a bit troubled. He didn't wish to impede, but he also wanted to get started.

"Master Ignatius, I believe there is a sword to deliver."

Marcus walked across his room in the Academy to his desk, sweeping a few vials of healing and magicka regenerating potions into his satchel. He was, of course, no Alchemist, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the value of potions. No, he just had others make them for him instead. Far less of a hassle. He considered adding a few scrolls as well, but decided not to, as the mission didn't really seem dangerous enough to justify bringing any, as most of his were destruction beyond his level of casting.

Finally, he made a few minor adjustments to a piece of parchment at the center of his desk, the one which held the details of his temperature changing spell that he just couldn't seem to get right. There was always some minor problem or another that refused to work itself out. Then again, trial and error to fix small things like those were what the majority of creating spells were all about. After all, making the basic ability of a spell occur was easy, but fine tuning it was very, very hard. This would be his eighth custom spell of his creation, a relatively small number for a master spellcaster. Although, he had always been of the opinion that Alteration spells were the most difficult sort to create. Sure, you ran the risk of blowing yourself up with destruction, but very little tweaking was required once you got through the basics. Most destruction spells valued power over accuracy, after all.

Alteration spells, on the other hand, were more troublesome. For instance, he would rather singe his eyebrows than be stuck waist deep in the floor for three days. Not that he would know, of course...

After finishing that, he walked out of his room and cast a strong locking spell on the door, in case any of the more unruly apprentices decided to try and prank him. He seemed to be a favorite target, for reasons Marcus himself just couldn't grasp. He was a model mage, after all! He wondered briefly as he walked away if he should ask someone to water the plants he had taken to cultivating, but he decided it was unlikely that they would be gone that long.

He walked down the hallway quickly, essentially ignoring whatever was going on around him until he reached the teleportation room, giving a nod to his fellows before taking a spot next to Tucharon, lapsing back into thought about how he could further improve his spell. He'd have to test it in Bruma, to see how effective it would be if you switched the intended effect.

'Hess blinked his eyes as the sun beamed through the window's curtains of his inn room with all the sublity of a hammer to the shin, he groaned and rolled off the bed, dressing himself in layers for the day, 2 pairs of common clothes under his robe, which would be hell until he got to bruma.

He packed up his books and stave and notes and pondered about binding a scamp familiar, but decided against it knowing the local guard of both towns might cleave it to pieces on sight. The rest of the city was it's usual self before the afternoon kicked in, not really active and days just starting.

After the annoyingly stuffy walk to the mage's guild teleporter, Fir-Hess muttered "Bruma" and did his best to count backwards from twenty, it helped make the awkward vertigo feeling of the trip go faster....but not by much.

When the lizard got there he gave a nod to those who had shown up, though none of them those who would be on his assignment, maybe now was a good time to get supplies from the local trader, they would be more fit to the northren climate...

IC: “Edgar, yes?” the strangely dressed Redguard answered. “I think it best that you use your own skills where you see fit, and I will use mine where I see fit.” Balrahn laughed softly under his mask of linen, dismissing the battlemage as he turned towards the door.

Edgar's image of the man as the dry, professional type bent slightly with the Redguard's cool reply. He supposed the man was right, such a small group didn't require an iron-fist drill sergeant to be effective. Though Edgar preferred a bit more structure, he would bow to his new superior's commands for the time being.

The Breton lowered his hand from his chest, slipping his right gauntlet on as he did so, and turned to follow the man out. However, before either of them could leave, the third member of their group stepped in, speaking first to Edgar. The Breton smiled slightly at the man's words, he was obviously not a rank-and-file soldier. By the looks of him Edgar would guess he was some kind of freelancer, a mercenary hired by the guild for an extra bit of muscle.

Their leader's reply, however, kept back any smart comment Edgar might have made to the man. They were both soldier's now, and like it or not they were going to have to listen to Balrahn's dry wit for the next week or two. Which also meant Edgar would have to keep his own mouth more or less shut; though he doubted the strangely dressed Redguard would mind his chatting, it simply wasn't professional.

The Breton clapped his new comrade on the shoulder as he walked past him, smiling jovially to the warrior. Edgar followed several steps behind Balrahn for a short time, but soon left the Redguard. He might not have any supplies to retrieve, but Edgar certainly did. His sword and axe, for one, a few changes of clothing, several books detailing both spells and combat, and his own book of the Nine. He had recieved the book of scriptures during his childhood, passed down to him by the monks that raised him, and he never travelled anywhere without it close at hand.

He left the small guild-room he had been staying in with only a satchel on his back and a sword on his hip. Along with his prized suit of armor, his current provisions made for all his worldly possessions. Thus equipped, Edgar strode quickly down to the main courtyard, crossing it with his head held high and a cheery smile in his gray eyes. He nodded to one of his fellow battlemages as he passed, making his way swiftly to the teleportation chambers.

The pad itself glowed from its recent uses, the guild guide in charge of the teleporter bent over from his recent exertions. His eyes opened wide as he saw Edgar enter, but nonetheless straightened himself. He indicated the pad with a wave of his robed arm, his cordial mask returned. "Bruma, then?" he asked, not unkindly, but with a decided edge to his voice. He had probably already teleported half a dozen of them.

Edgar cleared his throat, feeling slightly guilty, before responding, "Ah, yes, if you would."

"Of course," the mage replied, stepping back into an adjoining ritual circle. Edgar stepped onto the pad, satchel slung over one armored shoulder, and took a deep breath. He didn't trust teleportation, or mysticism in general for that matter, but such a transubstantiation was not natural. Not natural even by magical standards.

Edgar fell into an absolute blackness with startling suddenty, fighting a gag as the vertigo overtook him. But before he had time to even finish cursing the need for such sorcery he was back on his feet. The blackness had been replaced with the low cielinged guildhall of Bruma, and the heat of the Imperial city replaced with the slight chill of those northern cities.

As he stepped off the pad, nodding his thanks to the other mage that had seen him through to this side, he noticed Balrahn had arrived before him. Composing himself, Edgar stood straight at attention before the man, free hand firmly against his side, armored feet together. He fought the urge to throw off a salute, remembering the Redguard's relaxed attitude earlier.

"Sir," Edgar finished, nodding at the Redguard. Habit was habit, afterall.