'Hmm you do certainly have an interesting past my friend, Oblivion and an assassination, well I hope you trust me enough to let me keep your secret, and...I'll help you as well but I'm not exactly here to "claim the Holy Land" either, and if your plan forces me to abandon mine then you'll be on your own'.
Robert responded with a voice as quiet as the Dunmer's was.

Largrath smiled, "Good to know I have a friend." he gently stroked his cat, "So, what brings you to the war zone?"

'Well it's a long story but unlike yours it probably won't get me killed, at least not by the Empire.' Robert said quietly, not entirely because he didn't want to get caught.

As I mentioned before I was born and raised near Anvil.' started Robert mostly to himself. 'It was My Father, a sucessful merchant. My Mother, a mage and my Sister, she was older than me but I was always more mature.
One day a couple of years ago She and a few of her friends went into town, on the way back they were attacked by a group of Redguard Bandits, I had been sent by Mother to find her, I was too late.
Ever since then I have chased those filthy maggots from Elsweyr to the Summerset Isles. Now I gotten around half of them when the trail went cold.

Just as I was about to give up a Redguard priest told me he knew where they were but to get him to tell me I had to give him all the money I had saved.
He never came to the meeting spot, that was six months ago. I've chased both the "priest" and the bandits to Sentinel. Ive always followed the teachings of Azura, Magnus, Julianos and Kynareth. Me joining the "Crusade" was naught but coincidence my friend I needed a free pass to Hammerfell and, well this "Holy war" was declared.
Feel lucky my new friend you are the firstperson I have ever told that to, If you want to keep it that way you'll keep your mouth closed, and so will I.'

Largrath nodded, "Indeed. I am, pretty good at keeping secrets. Of course, Mr.Binky overheard that one." Largrath sayed with a smile, patting his cat on the head.

" Robert. One of my fathers first teachings were, vengeance lead to pain. I never understood that, for I was a twenty year old Dunmer boy at the time. But, when my mother was killed by the daedra during the oblivion invasion, I found out the hard way. I foolishly entered a gate to oblivion, thinking I could slaughter all of the daedra beyond it, but instead... instead I ended up there prisoner. They tortured me, forced me to watch as they killed my brothers and sisters off."

Largrath let out a sigh, pulling down on his collar, a big brand mark is visible, the sign of Mehrunes Dagon engraved within the Dunmer's neck.

"Because I foolishly went for vengeance, I ended up getting my entire family killed. Dont repeat the mistakes I made." Largrath says, a serious tone in his voice.

'Well Largrath your mysterious past keeps on getting less and less mysterious and whilst I'll take your warning the bandits did more than just kill my sister if you get my drift.'snapped Robert

Trying to get the conversation away from him Robert added 'There will probably be a Knight coming along soon, in fact I'm surprised we haven't been interrupted yet we should split up and establish alibi's so our plan, well your plan really, doesn't get brought back to us.'

With that Robert shook hands with Largrath and left the cabin.

Largrath let out a sigh, setting his sheathe onto the table.

"Mr.Binky, why do you never walk away?" the cat let out a meow, running out of the cabin. ((Its gonna be getting some fishies on the upper deck lol ))

"Well, nevermind." Largrath said, looking around the cabin for any good books. He took sight of a book, with a dragon imprinted on the front page. Largrath walked over to it, and began to read.


***

Fish! I smell fish! Mr.Binky ran through the halls of the ship, avoiding being stepped on. Up, the fish is up!

The cat ran onto the upper deck, to see a bucket of fish lying near the door. The cat grabbed one of the fish's tail with his paws, pulling it out of the bucket. He lied down and began to eat.

Kind of Salty, but still good

OOC: Wow, well this has moved on quite a bit......How long till we hit land Cap'n?

IC: As Claudius stood on the deck of the ship, admiring the view of the port and the scurrying of the people below, the Captain made a yell and the ship slowly began to move forward. Cries and cheers could be heard from the knights, both on the ship and off. "Well here we go lad, next stop Sentinel"

Making an order for his squire to follow, they set off and headed below deck. A knight clad in leather armor indicated towards a small room with two bunks, a table, two chairs and a small wardrobe which was to serve as their quarters during the trip. "Rather mundane for a knight of my standard isn't it?" Claudius asked the man
"Jus following me orders sir" the man mearly replied as he showed some more higher ranking knights their rooms.

Ushering adamus into the room and shutting the door, Claudius began to unpack his clothing and a few items of food and drink to serve as their cuisines on the trip. "Don't eat the food they give you on the trip lad, it isn't pleasent"
"Why so sir?"
"Well they have to feed a large number of soldiers while using as little resources as possible. Much of the stuff is simply unpleasent gunk that will kill more honest knights than the Redguards will" he explained "hopefully we won't be spending too long getting there or we may be forced too"

As soon as her horse and mule were safely installed, Elissandre moved up to the ship's passenger deck - as this ship was visibly more designed for supplies rather than passengers, it had very little in the way of passenger cabins. Instead the the topmost deck had been partitioned with sheets, some light wooden partitions for what would be considered as luxury accomodations. The aft castle being reserved fo the captain and his officers. Which brought a rather disgruntled look on her face.

So long for quiet and privacy. Well, I should as well take this as a deserved punishment for my tardiness... Trials strengthen the soul and the like... And with the number of horses and other animals, that tub's going to stink something fierce... Yuck. I really shouldn't have been up this late tonight.

Straightening and doing her best to look properly knigtly, Elissandre moved toward the aft end of the deck, hoping she could talk her way into one of the 'cabins'.

Kenji leaned against a wall, listening to the breton and his fellow knight speak, a light chuckle coming from him as he munched on an apple. The khajiit stood out from the shadows and brushed past him "Ya know, be careful what you say, when you say. Sound travels well within ships like this." he had heard much of the conversation and grinned abit and started walking down the hall to his cabin, which was annoyingly next to the dark elves cabin. "Hmm.." he muttered pushing the door open. It was fairly nice, white tapestry on the table, closet, two beds. Which he didnt have to share thankfully. "Haha. A cabin all to myself" he purred and closed the door.

After inspecting the area of the ship dedicated to horses, Gaston was left less than pleased. it was dirty, gloomy, and smelly; certainly not the kind of place that he'd want to leave Neithen or Wilfred's Rouncey in. If it wasn't for the fact that the cabins he had seen so far were tiny, even those for knights with squires, he would've taken both the horses in with their riders; Neithen for obvious reasons, and Wilfred wouldn't have wanted to leave his horse in the hold either. At least Gaston wouldn't allow it - money had went into the Rouncey, money that belonged to his father and thus him. Plus, Wilfred had to prepare for the day when he'd have his own knightly charger horse, most likely a Courser like Gaston had now. Such a horse was a companion for life, and the knight's life frequently depended on the horse. Care and devotion was needed to keep a horse healthy and strong, yet it paid off in battle tenfold - a single good horse could shift the balance in skirmishes, and cavalry forces on good mounts could win a larger battle.

Since he couldn't take Neithen into his own room, though, Gaston decided to at least make the area of the hold in which Neithen would reside as comfortable as the knight could. As he prepared a suitable long-term dwelling for the Courser, from the corner of his eye the Anticlerian could see that Wilfred was observing and repeating his actions, something that caused a faint smile. No matter what some knights said, squires were a pleasure, not a burden, yet Gaston couldn't help but predict that the moment when they'd have to part ways after Wilfred was a full-fledged knight would be heart-breaking for both of them; at least he knew for sure the moment he parted with his own master was a sad one, for the knight had treated Gaston well.

After finishing up the small preparations, the pair moved up from the hold, the packs with their food in tow; they needed to find a suitable cabin for themselves now. However, Gaston could see that Wilfred was eager to learn his way around the ship. Thus, the knight took all the packs and with the same faint smile encouraged his squire to go on and explore. For the second time today, Wilfred thanked his master wholeheartedly, and hurried up the stairs. Exploring wasn't the only thing he wanted to do; the young Breton loved to chat, often making friends with some people of the lower classes wherever he and Gaston stopped on their journeys. Wilfred lacked one thing his master had - the feeling of his place in society, and while Gaston knew full well he was part of a feudal society, and not the lowest part at that, Wilfred didn't give a damn. Thus, heading up, he hoped he'd meet some of the other squires, thinking about the few he'd seen in the tavern earlier. It was always interesting to speak with his colleagues the few times he and Gaston encountered other travelling knights; the long hours during which the knights would discuss the more serious matters Wilfred would spend talking with the other squire about journeys, old folk tales heard, and the deeds of the knights.

Sorry its kinda late.

Name: Markus Crowe
Age: 42
Race: Imperial

General Appearance: about 6' 2", 160 pounds, brown eyes, and rather long black hair usually kept in a ponytail. No facial hair, except some stubble in the usual beard-moustache area.

Weapons: He has a nice silver longsword, a silver dagger kept strapped to his ankle, and a shortbow with a quiver of 30 arrows.

Armor: Standard chainmail, also wears a mithril chestplate, along with steel gauntlets and boots.

Spells: Only simple restoration and fire spells, doesn't use them often.

Equipment: Food (mostly bread), water, and a bottle of fine bourbon for special occasions. White horse that he's quite attached to, named Perce. Everything's in saddlebags.

Follower: Not so much a squire as a sidekick. He's a big Nord. No one knows his actual name, but he likes to be called Mike. He's got his own chestnut horse, sword, etc.


IC: "MIKE!" Markus yelled behind him as he galloped through the streets of Anvil on his horse. "HURRY UP! THE SHIP IS LEAVING!" He looked back in front of him just in time to avoid hitting an elderly lady. "Sorry, Ma'am!" he yelled behind him.

Markus and Mike came to the port just to see the boat slowly moving off the dock. Mike was starting to fall behind on his slower chestnut horse. "MIKE! GET YOUR FAT ASS IN GEAR!" Markus yelled yelled again. "WAIT!" he yelled to the captain while riding alongside the ship. He had no idea how he could get up from the dock to the ship before it left. But then he spotted the food cart about fifty feet in front of him.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Markus yelled to the farmer tending to his cart, who promptly jumped away from his cart. Markus gave his horse one extra whip, and that did it. The white steed climbed up and launched itself from the cart, landing firmly on the ship. The same, however could not be said for Mike, who had fallen off of his horse upon landing.

Markus dismounted his horse and looked around. "Well," he sighed. "Is this the ship to Hammerfell?"

[OOC : there are several ships, and only one is moving yet - I suppose I'll have to find a way for Elissandre to get onbard the lead ship rather than staying alone on the second one]

Suddenly Elissandre could hear the noise of something heavy crashing on the lead ship - even if it hasn't departed for long, it must have been rather lound for her to hear it. Wondering what it might be, she rushed to the deck, in case someone got hurt.

Once she reached it, she could see it was a knight and his quire who had managed to jump from teh docks onto the first ship to leave, apparently unharmed. Stupid stunt. Why in the Nine's name did that idiot feek the need for such acrobatics - he could easily have maimed himself or his mount, while they were still several ships embarking. And is there soem room left for two horses in this ship's holds ?

If that sort of things keeps happening, I'm afraid we won't even need Hammerfell's fleet to sink that crusade before it can land in Sentinel...

Still in shock over the plan being found out so quickly, Robert didn't notice the large crash on the ship like everyone else would've.
His mind made up Robert strode into the Khajiit's room, slammed the door closed, locked with a spell and held his sword to the Khajiit's throat, lightning crackling along the edge of the blade.

'Now, you heard us, good job by the way, now' hissed Robert, a manic sheen in his eyes and voice. 'you get to choose from three prizes. Choice number 1; I rip your tongue out and melt your lips together. Choice number 2; You join us. Finally Choice number 3, this one's rather fun, I blast you through the ship and see if kitty can swim. Answer dammit!'

Largrath slammed his book shut at the noise coming from the cabin next to him.

Well, we all knew somthing would happen in such a isolated space.

Grabbing his gauntlets from the table and sliding them on, he lifted "Wrath" out of his sheathe and stomped out of his cabin, heading toward the one next door.

The Dunmer raised his foot, and tried to kick the door open. ((One of you decide if that thing burst open with a angry elf at the other side))

An anrgry-looking dunmer knocked open the door to one of the cabins, and Markus immediately regretted his decision to jump onto the boat. "Sorry, for the, um, well, little stunt there," Markus tried to address the other people staring angrily at him. "I suppose you want an explanation. I assume this is the ship to Hammerfell?" Markus waited for an answer, but no one did. "Right, then," Markus tried to come up with a suitable excuse, as he felt that he shouldn't tell them about his recent troubles with the local mob, and how was currently on the run.

"Well," he paused. "Let's just say, um..." he was still thinking. "Let's just say I really needed to get on this boat." He looked back at their angry faces. "I, um... I'm Markus, by the way, Markus Crowe, and I... I look forward to fighting alongside you all in Hammerfell. Let's just leave it at that," Markus looked back at all of them, hoping they would accept his little apology.

Largrath let out a growl, holding his claymore with both hands.

"Who, is the one that is making ALOT of noise?" he barked, his blade starting to steam.

Markus jumped a little as the angry dunmer just got angrier and was now holding a big claymore.
"Hey, now," Markus held his hands out in front of him. "Let's not get too carried away here. I know me and my friend, this is Mike, by the way, caused a pretty big disturbance," he gestured towards Mike, who let out a grunt to acknowledge the crowd. "But, um, well," He paused for a second. "We really needed to get on this boat."

It was at this point that Markus looked back toward the dock. Standing there, looking pretty angry, was a group of big, burly Khajiits, no doubt looking for him. Markus moved a little to the side, keeping his head down as to not be seen by them.

OCC: Sorry for not keeping up, I've been terribly sick, and I could'nt post or anything.

IC

Richard and Charles went to the top deck, and looked around after Charles got a small piece of bread and cheese.

"See Charles. I told you this was going to be great"

"Yes you did Sir, I will never forget this"

The two walked around the ship some more.

Elissandre, Anvil port, on a docked ship

From her position on the deck Elissandre was able to get a good look on the leaving ship and the pair of fools who had jumped aboard. When the apparent leader began skulking away from the ship's side, her gaze moved to the docks.

Soon she spotted a group of burly and apparently angry khajits, quite busy with looking for something...

Or more probably someone... who just made the exact sort of stunts you don't pull out when you're on the run. Just about everyone on the dock can tell them where these Two went. I wonder what they've done to have them this mad at them.

As the khajits moved along the docks, Elissandre got a better look at them, frowning.

I don't think they're stevedores. Here in anvil you'd rather see nords, redguards and orcs. They might have been hired to replace the redguards who aren't exactly welcome now. But they're more likely to be some kind of enforcers.

With thousands of knights and the Nines know how many sellswords, fanatics, hangers-on and whatnot gathering there, every smuggler, pimp and the like in a hundred miles is probably there too.

Well, this is the second ship, with the number of knights to move, at least I should be spared the worst company. Even if from how they look at me some of those knights might end up as much an hassle as any riff-raff

Robert flinched as there was a sound like someone kicking in a door, for a moment, silence, then "Who, is the one that is making ALOT of noise?" growled an obviously Dark Elf voice.

'Ahhh friend' called Robert, not once taking his eyes of the Khajiit 'tis me your "associate", a "friend" and I were about to have a chat come, join us, we have much still to discuss.' at that Robert unlocked the door with the spell he learnt in an class he took years ago.

'Now, Kitty boy make your descision!' barked the pale Breton from under his hood.

Markus breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the Khajiits had lost him. The biggest of the group smacked another upside the head. "GREAT!" he bellowed at the rest of them, who cringed in fear. "Just great! We lost him! Big D's offering fifty-thousand drakes for this guy's head," he paused for breath. "AND YOU DUMBASSES LOST HIM!" It was at this point that his rage peaked. The big Khajiit grabbed his nearest henchman by throat, picked him up, and threw him headfirst into the water below.

The other Khajiits, frozen in fear, simply stood, staring at the spot that their comrade had hit the water. The leader turned his attention toward them. "SEARCH THE SHIPS, DAMMIT!" he bellowed in their faces. The scared Khajiits scurried around like little kittens, and started entering random ships to search.

Markus turned around. Now he was glad he was on this particular ship, already leaving the dock. Now he just had to get his horses out of sight. "C'mon, Mike," he said to his comrade. "Let's get the horses secured." He grabbed his horse's reins and walked him over to the cargo hold.

Elissandre, Anvil docks, aboard Zenithar's Blessing

elissandre heard the khajit's bellows with utter surprise. The khajit boss just did the equivalent of yelling aloud 'I'm a criminal on a hit', in the middle of a dock packed full of soldiers and knights. Who might be busy with the task of embarking for Hammerfell, but probably wouldn't mind serving the law and order by taking care of him and his cats.

Maybe it's the bounty that made him this stupid. Fifty thousand drakes is a huge pile of money, enough to get a knight and his horse decked in the finest enchanted ebony armor. I wonder what this pair of idiots could have done to warrant such a bounty. That big brute of a khajit has probably mixed his numbers.

As one of the khajits moved aboard the ship she was on, named Zenithar's Blessing, Elissandre moved to face him, for once happy to be wearing the surcoat of a Knight of the Nines. As the khajit looked somewhat dumbfoundedly at her, she spoke, while readying a spell in her mind.

"These ships are to transport troops for the crusade in Hammerfell, and under the knightly order's protection. A common thugh of your sort has no business onboard any of them."

To add some weight to her words, Elissandre called forth her skill with illusions, wrapping the threads of magic around her hand to surround it with illusory arcs of crackling electricity.

"Leave now, or feel the wrath of the Nines."

Dumb Khajiit lackey, Anvil Port, aboard Zenithar's Blessing

The Khajiit just smiled, showing his several missing teeth. He laughed as he drew his iron shortsword. "The Nines?" he laughed. "The Nines can kiss my big furry ass!" The Khajiit lunged at the Breton, not expecting much of a fight.

Elissandre, Anvil docks, aboard Zenithar's Blessing

As the khajit drew his sword, Elissandre did the same, womewhat surpised by his attack he must be high on something. Attacking me in plain sight, witth other knights around... Or he's really dumb.

As the khajit lunged she parried his attack while whispering an incantation. The parry wasn't much to write home about, but it deflected the strike enough to turn it onto a glancing blow, the iron blade sliding on the mithril chain whithout more harm than a slightly ripped surcoat....

As the khajit was recovering his balance, Elissandre's left hand brushed him, unleashing her spell. Threads of magicka wrapped around the thug's mind, filling it with dread and fear, making him feel like the not so impressive breton facing him was a ten-feet tall brute who could gut him as easily as if he was a dead fish....

Markus

Markus looked out to the docks as he heard a scream, and couldn't help but smile. One of the khajiits that was searching the ships was running down the road, apparently away from the breton woman on the boat behind them. Markus let out a small chuckle as the khajiit screamed again, letting out sounds that he didn't even know khajiits could make.

Markus looked back at the breton, and gave her an approving nod and a smile.