The Cold War.

Year ? 4E02

The Plight of Oblivion is Over;

The Plight of the State has just Begun

The Oblivion Crisis is over, and Ocato is dead. The new leader: Sermon Ferald has fallen into a state of greed and lust. Power has gone to his head. Unfit to control a State such as Cyrodill, he has been taken from his post temporarily, left to recover in a secret hospital, the location unknown to any man or woman. In his place, his immediate subordinate: Lars Hudi was implemented, taking the title: First Secretary of the State as his own, and claiming dictatorship, condemning his predecessor to be permanently unwell, never again to be seated on the throne.

New laws were passed. Quickly. Forcing them through the Judicial system, using his supreme power to control the disenfranchised masses, Hudi quickly established a new regime by which all were forced to obey, or die. Upon the Imperial Tower, speaking to all of the Imperial City, and copies of his speech sent to every citizen in Cyrodill, he orated his manifesto:

"Today, I stand before you, your lord. I am your Superlative, you: the Comparative. The state is something in which now, everyone must trust blindly. If I tell you to do something: you do it. Concentration camps, forced labour camps have been set up across the country, disobedience will only lead to misery, and I can assure you of that.

To betray these rules is to be labelled a heretic. Heresy is not something to be tolerated. There will be no more song. No more poetry or freedom of speech. It is your duty to marry and have children: all of whom will be dedicated solely to the State. In their schools they will be taught obedience and a blind love of the State. All culprits of crimes will be caught. Crime is no longer an issue.

Other rules have of course been set in place, but there is no need for me to address them all in this speech. They will become clear to you over the next few weeks. Examples will be made, and you will understand. My new police force, The Divine, is constantly alert, always on the lookout for both political and material criminals.

Believing in the state is to believe in yourself."

And with that, he returned to his chambers.


Six Months Later

Longinus was sat alone, his Cheydinhal home creaked in the wind, the night swallowing his whole life whole. He was humming a tune, his last expression of freedom before they came for him. He knew what was coming. Since that speech, there had been more arrests than ever. Of course, the statistics shown in The Black Horse told of the State's success, and how it has reduced the crime rate by scores. This, essentially, was true. Political criminals captured in the dead of night, taken to the Imperial City and tortured into confessing their crimes. Then, taken into transition, the prisoners awaited their fate. It was always one of two things: The Path to Redemption, or TETHRED for short, the concentration camps, or execution.

Apprehensive and anxious, he set his guitar down beside him and continued to hum. Hunched up in a chair in the middle of his living room, Longinus heard a bang towards the back of his house. He looked round, his breathing stertorous now. Gasping for air, he knew that all around him, neighbours were doing the same thing, waiting until past 2am before going to bed. Two in the morning: Arresting hour. But for them, it was another day survived. They would not be taken from their home, stripped from their privileges as Longinus was about to be. His music was an expression of freedom, something that no one was granted. Not by the state.

Another bang. And a third. Before he had time to think he was knocked to the ground and told to lie flat on his face, his hands behind his back. He heard the sound of swords, guards shouting at him, ordering him around. Would he disobey? He thought not. Lying, motionless and feeling useless, his hands were bound and he was told his destination, what he was being prosecuted with and taken away. Not permitted to ask questions or speak, he was led outside into the black night.

Same Night
The Revolutionaries

Kiera sat, huddled in a bush near the house of Longinus in Cheydinhal. His short sword was drawn, knowing that had he opted for the long sword, he couldn't keep his balance when the time came, his long sword not being proportionate with the armour he was wearing. Confident they hadn't been seen, Kiera and two others watched closely as the guards entered Longinus' house. They didn't have long. Kiera silently motioned to the others to move with him, approaching the house.

He watched as Darius scaled the wall, and sat, perched upon the roof, peering out into the dark below, waiting to hear the front door open and see Longinus being dragged out. Beautiful and skilled, Fraera hid behind the well that was neatly placed in Longinus' front garden. Kiera adopted his usual position, lying face down on the grass near the front door, his head angled so he could see the approaching men.

It happened all at once. Longinus did not struggle, but the door burst open and the guards forced him towards the horse and cart that was awaiting their arrival, to take them back to the Imperial City. Kiera did not need to give his friends a signal, but instead, in one, simultaneous movement, the three of them leapt at the men, attacking as best they could, trying to penetrate the guards armour. Taken by complete surprise, some guards had not drawn their swords. They were quickly dispatched.

"Longinus, get behind the well!" Kiera screamed, forcing his sword deep into the armour of a second man in uniform. The work was quick and bloody. The men did not know what had hit them, and soon, they were all dispatched, all of them sprawled in their own blood. Kiera nodded and told Longinus to get in the horse-drawn cart, which Freara quickly took command of, galloping away, back towards the safety of the hideout.

"Quickly, Freara. It will not take long before they are alert to our presence."

Freara urged the horses forwards, Darius sat in the back with Kiera and Longinus, clutching his arm.

"Are you OK?" Kiera asked. He was not one for sentimentality, but he was aware that Darius was in pain.

"I'll live." Darius grunted, a smirk creeping across his face. Kiera began to laugh, and soon they were away, Cheydinhal rapidly disappearing into the deep behind them.

RP Story line

You will each play a different character from Kiera's gang of saviours. There are many characters to choose from, and if wanted, two can be Darius and Freara.

We receive the info of the arrests from a corrupt guard, and set out to save our citizens as best we can. Of course, the missions get bigger, until eventually, the plot to completely overthrow the state comes into play.

RP rules

The usual, really.

? No char controlling
? No Uberness
? Romance is allowed
? I will reprimand unjustifiable behaviour
? I may allow some people to be members of The Divine, but this isn't a freeform, their story will have to be interlinked with this one.
? PM character sheets to me for approval

Here's mine:

Name: Kiera (Key-Air-Ah) Knightfall
Race: Redguard
Gender: Male
Apparent Age: 25
Actual Age: 29

Skills: Long Blade, Short Blade, Tenacity, Perseverance, Level-Headedness.
Armor/apparel: Light Armour. Full Leather.
Unique apparel: N/A

Weapons: Imperial Longsword, A Bow (On his Back) and a concealed dagger in his boot.
Equipment: Some gold, potions, a set of maps.

Physical Appearance: He is tall and wiry, his arms are long giving him a good reach but his height can sometimes make him vulnerable to daggers and short-swords.
Unique Appearance: He is black.
Mental Description: Extremely level-headed and cool in the face of danger, Kiera is liked by most. His witty attitude and sometimes childish actions make him an unusual casting for a bodyguard, but he a good protector and would die doing his job if necessary.
Short Bio: Born and raised in Bravil, Cyrodill, Kiera or Ki, for short, was raised by his Mother and Father. At the age of fifteen, his Father left the house with another woman, and his Mother was left alone. When Ki's Father absconded, she was left helpless and she suffered a stroke not long afterwards, killing her instantly. Ki was left to his own devices, and began training with the Fighter's guild. Upon the release of the new laws, all guilds were immediately disbanded and Kiera started his dissident group, The Revolutionaries.

a Note on the speech that Hudi made:

It doesn't make sense to immediately tell everyone that their lives will svck from here on out. The trick is to make them believe things are going to be better, then have all the bad [censored] reveal itself over time. If Lenin had come right out and told everyone how [censored] things were going to be from the start, nobody would have supported the Bolsheviks. A speech like this would cause riots all up and down the country.

OOC: It's a good point, but that's not necessarily important to the RP. It's just the setting for us, really.

Kiera and his accomplices arrived back at the hideout, on the outskirts of Kvatch. He nodded to the men and women inside as he passed them, smiling at a few. His eyes were tired and his arms ached after the nights work, but they had saved Longinus from a terrible fate. Worth it in the end. His body begged him to sleep, but he could not yet. He still had to show Longinus his quarters, then fill in the the report of Longinus' return to safety. A growing problem as they saved more people, was the space available. An old and unused tavern, unbeknown to the guards after it was closed down, all the inns now replaced with newer, 'state approved' social clubs, Kiera had deemed it most suiting that the hideout be in one of the places the State had closed down. However, space was a problem. He would have to think of something. He always did.

He showed Longinus where he would be sleeping, and told him that they would discuss arrangements for his future in the morning, making it clear that he was welcome to stay as long as he liked. Longinus couldn't have been more grateful if he tried, beaming with thanks for his saviours, but also claiming he needed to rest, to sleep off the feeling of fatigue and fear. Kiera bade him good night and closed his door, heading back towards his office. Up the stairs and first on the left, he opened the door to find more inside information about arrests. Sighing, knowing that now he would not sleep until much later than intended, he sat behind the desk, opening the envelope and beginning to read.

OOC: Hope this is okay, Sir'

Zaire walked down the beaten path from the ruins of Kvatch, where recently she had been hiding in the inaccessible places of the city. Her fear of heights had made it pretty awful, but what could she do? She had nowhere else to go.

It was late, and the moonlight shone its halflight upon the woman, revealing her soft features, her pale, heart-shaped face, and her small stature and feminine form. Her copper locks, cropped short to her chin, were in a tangled mess even shorter; caring for herself had been difficult in the sooty and empty city- particularly because there wasn't a lot of time to look for resources and equipment. Though much safer than a city, there were small groups of loyalists every now and again, planning to rebuild the place into the perfect bastion of Hudi's power, no doubt.

The "breton"- if that was what she truly was- continued the trek away from Kvatch, glad of the moonlight and the cool night air, which had ever been her friends. Eventually, she came to a run-down inn. Another business destroyed by the divines... she thought disgustedly. Those social houses are a joke, with a soldier always looking over your shoulder. It's because they know, whatever they pretend, that people don't want them.

She came to the door, and tried to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. Annoyed, she looked up at the second level, to see if there was a window she could break through that had not yet been boarded up, but they were all boarded... and strangely, blacked out.

"So what's this?" she wondered, going and pressing her ear to the door. Inside, she could hear muffled voices.

Just then with a crash the door flung open, throwing Zaire back painfully. She landed on her feet as five haggard men rushed out, three pointing bows at her, two swords.

She put her hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm unarmed," she said calmly, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her dark eyes at the men. "But I'm wondering why you are...?" a tiny smile, nearly unnoticeable, tugged at her lips.

The swordsmen looked at each other, then one spoke. "We won't be having any Hudi spies here," he growled. "And what's that, then?" He indicated her whip.

She rolled her eyes. "A bullwhip," she informed them. "A shepherds tool. Unless I manage to wrap it around your neck, it can't hurt you." She moved, and put a hand on her hip, fingering the bridge of her nose with the other, before putting it to her side too. "I suppose you won't believe me if I say I'm not a Hudi spy, tangled and dirty though I am? Best take me to your leader then, unless you kill me against orders, right?" They looked reluctant to follow the sensible advice, seeing as it was coming from a possible enemy.

The two swordsmen moved forwards and grabbed her roughly by the arms, and dragged her inside. They did their best to hinder her view, but as she passed she saw many a terrified and hungry looking face, and a few faces she'd heard had been arrested. The tiny smile returned. Interesting...

They took her up the stairs and to the left- she filed this away in case they tried to get rid of her, and pushed through the door into an office like room. Sitting behind the desk was a dark-skinned redguard, tall and wiry, with a familiar face, though she had never met him before.

"Kiera Knightfall," She said, tilting her head to one side and smiling widely. It was a warm smile, that lit up her face and lent a micheivous glint to her dark eyes. "I've heard of you. But last I heard you weren't persecuting innocent folk that could be helping people. That's Hudi's job." She knew how to make it clear whose side she was on.

She tensed and struggled quite suddenly, surprising the guards, for whom she'd been quite easy until that point. She wriggled and kicked and spun like a rabbit in the arms of a three year old child. Finally, she pushed the swordsmen away, and, without Kiera's orders, they didn't attack. The struggling hadn't been graceful or, in this case, violent, but it had been wild, and very impressive, since the men were a good deal bigger and stronger than her.

Pursing her lips to blow her dull copper hair out of her face, she then smiled again, this time extremely sweetly, as if she were merely young and helpless.

The paperwork was before him was infuriating. The guard they paid to tip the off was granted handsome gifts, things that could no longer be attained under normal circumstances: spices and food, wine, beer. Anything he wanted, Kiera got it for him, as long as the names kept coming. However, this delivery wasn't quite so informative. Names and places yes, but no dates. A hurried scrawl was visible at the bottom, explaining that his family were under supervision. He was being blackmailed. Accused of conspiracy against the state, he was unable to continue their deal, and these were the last names that he would be able to give them. Kiera swore aloud when he read the words. If the State arrested the man and tortured him, threatening to kill both him and his family, Kiera was sure that he would give them the details they wanted. Although, in saying that, he knew little. Only a description of where he was instructed to leave the scrolls of names, a place away from the Tavern, somewhere that could easily be relocated.

Unaware of the time, Kiera's door opened. He looked up, his fatigue wiped away instantly. His hand already on the hilt of his sword. He relaxed, releasing his grip on the sword handle when he saw the faces of his men. His attention was immediately drawn to the Breton stood with them. She had a petite figure, a young girl and not unattractive, but evidently a woman who had not slept in a bed in a long time. Then, the sound of her voice was in Kiera's ears, and he was broken of the spell, having been studying her with great scrutiny. She was not all Breton.

Her speech was cut short, as quite suddenly, she writhed free of the grip of the men holding her. Kiera nodded to the men, indicating that they could leave the room. They exited, leaving Kiera only in the presence of this young lady. He stood up, still examining her.

"I see you already know my name. I am Kiera. We are the Revolutionaries. An uprising against the State. These papers," he ruffled the sheets in front of him, "give us the information we need to save those who are to be arrested", he gave her the information in order to provoke a reaction, a reaction that would determine whether she was really against Hudi or not. "Choose your words carefully, young Breton. For if I deem you a spy, I can assure you you will not leave this room alive." It was an empty threat. He had no idea whether this lady, a Breton-esque figure was a powerful mage, or some other being who could cast a spell upon him and in fact turn his words on his own head, killing him instead.

OOC: Immaculate as always, Illusionary.

ooc: Appologies for the double post.

ic:

Larry entered the hideout which he now called his home. He greeted a few friends and noticed one or two new faces, he'd been out of town for a couple of weeks following someone who he suspected to be a traitor in the ranks but it proved that Larry's fears were unjust, the man was just shady.

He headed towards a seat in the corner and dumped his trenchcoat on the arm of the chair. he fiddled through it and mumbled something about the weather to the man next to him.

He sat down and sighed deeply, "It's good to be back." he stated, a smile breaking his usually boring face. The man next to him laughed, "You're happy larry; stop it or we might suspect it's not you."

A shiver went down Zaire's spine, and she did not repress it. "I have no doubt you could kill me," she replied to Kiera, and though she did not cower or back down, her fear of his threat was evident. But Zaire was too strong-willed a woman to back down from someone just because they could cut her in half.

"I'd better just fess up, then," she continued, dark eyes on Kiera's. "I am not Hudi's spy, but I certainly make a good one." She moved to the wall and leaned against it casually, hiding that she felt a little weak at the knees. "I'm wanted by the State," she continued. "They tried to force me to sign up, but I refused. They won't kill me on sight, of course; it's all very unofficial. Afterall, all I said was 'no'," she said it as if it had been nothing, but the bitterness in her voice betrayed how very hard it had been to say no; Hudi and the Divines were viciously 'persuasive'. "I've mostly been roving around and keeping out of the way, though when I see someone who needs help, I do what I can." Her expression was heavily shadowed now. "What little I can do. I'm not a fighter; not in body, at least."

She tilted her head to one side. "So, Kiera Knightfall. I guess that, now that I'm here, you can use me. I'm not a fighter; I despise using magic. But I am useful in most other ways. Even wanted by Hudi I can get any information you want, infiltrate any top-secret building." It was a big boast, and Zaire knew it would not be easy, but she was determined to live up to it.

"You, uh," she grew visibly more nervous. "You could always kill me, too," she said. "But if you're the sort of person who would kill me simply for offering my help, I don't think I want to help you anyway."

Kiera listened as the lady explained her situation, nodding or making noises when appropriate. She hated the State as much as he did. She could hear the contempt in her voice as she spoke of their harsh dealings. She leant on the wall as she spoke. She told of how she wasn't a fighter, then bragged of how she could infiltrate any building. Kiera pondered those words for a number of seconds after she had said them. He did not come back around until she spoke again, still only hearing half of her last utterance. He laughed aloud, catching the last sentence, but remained silent for a few seconds longer after she was done, still mulling over her words. Was it a blessing? He had no idea. He was a trusting person, but he would not trust those he did not know. They would have to earn his trust with hard evidence first.

So, our informant gives up on us. Then I get this lady telling me that she could literally get any information we need? Kiera, use your brain, how can this not be a set-up by the state? She must be a state spy. He told himself that she was spy, but for some reason he did not believe it. Frowning, he did not have words for the girl. He had to test her loyalty. Her willingness to fight the State and Hudi. She would be a master of deceit, and Kiera didn't have the best judge of character. It was both a blessing with an taint. An antithetical concept, one which required Kiera to b e sure of his decisions. It was moments like these that he wished he wasn't in charge. Before he had really finished thinking, he was talking again.

"Both elucidate in it's punishments and eclectic in passageways, the Imperial Tower is a difficult place to breach," He did not know how she would respond to what seemed such an irrelevant statement, but continued anyway, "these documents indicate the arrest of our informant. The man who gave us the information of the victims of the State in advance, so we can try to save them before they are doomed." A smile threatened his mouth, but he suppressed it, still talking. "Should you wish to join us? Help our cause? You must infiltrate the Imperial City Tower and find me the names of more future prisoners." He considered his own words for a second, then recommenced, "You may take one person with you. Choose who you will. If I could make a suggestion, I would recommend Larry Wall. Most like yourself, he will probably be difficult to find, but he is around, he just hasn't bothered reporting to me regarding his most recent mission." Kiera rolled his eyes then said, "However, you do not have to choose him. Whoever you do choose, though, I would like to see you and the accomplice here in this office before you leave. I will be up for most of the night and late into tomorrow, so any time will be fine. There is a bed, should you wish to take it, if you go out this office and into the third door on the left." Still not knowing why he was so forthcoming in his trust with this woman, he added,

"Before you go, Dear, you still haven't told me your name."

OOC: I hope this fine.

Dear Kiera,

My apologies for my lack of appearances, or correspondence these past weeks. However, I have been able to carry out the required tasks you asked of me. The information provided was not easy to gain but it should give you more of an advantage in the future. You'll find it hidden within the chest I've provided for the courier. In case if he's picked up. Inside are nothing more than just rubbish so it shouldn't cause any suspicion.

Kiera one more thing; this is most likely the last time you'll hear from me. The Divine has kept an ever increasing watch on me, and no doubt right now someone has been tasked to keep eye on my home. The claw of the state is starting to close its grip around me and it won't be long before they come, I've been an inch they've ignored for too long. If anything does happen to me heed this; do not come for me! This I ask of you as a friend.

If one man is to die save he may save a hundred. Then so be it.

~ de Marquis

Dropping the tip of the quill back into the ink pot. Laurent snatched up the parchment and folded it in half, quickly rather than smartly. Pressing it down upon his desk he took out a small dish of hot wax and pour just a small amount across the centre of the folded parchment, then preceded to press down a symbol of a fig leaf embedding it. Laurent took a brief moment to catch his breath before rushing off down towards the cellar.

A dark and dank place, filled with boxes, filled with clutter and other useless objects that had no use in the world anymore. Thus making it perfect hiding location. Giving it a new purpose. Now where are you? he asked the darkness whilst he ran his hands across the stone cobbles of the floor, before a clicking noise sounded. Soft light emitted from his right hand revelling a crate to the sewer systems. This was his only connection to The Revolutionaries and if the gods are willing...

"You're the courier I take it?" Laurent asked with a struggled tone as he shifted the crate to one side.

"Aye sir." He spoke. Nothing more than a child it seemed but if this was the extent of what people will go through for freedom, so be it. "You know where this must go to right?" The boy nodded. "Good," Laurent moved on to pass the chest to the boy. As the boy took hold of the chest he looked up at Laurent, his face said 'I'm brave' but his eyes said otherwise. Soon after he left, only his footsteps could be hear as the darkness swallowed him before they too left. And it suddenly dawned on him. His final night as a free man no doubt.

Returning everything back to order he returned back to his lobby. Sighing he knew what he had to do next "There's much work that needs burning."

Zaire's eyes, already so large and dark, widened somewhat as he proposed his mission. She could see, in the shaping of his eyes and the tautness of his lips, that he was restraining himself from smiling, although with such things it was impossible to be sure.

The White Gold tower? she found herself thinking. "The White Gold tower," she said calmly, speculatively. "They say that its impregnable, that to break in is impossible. I don't believe that. Nothing is impossible." Her lips quirked up in the corners ever so slightly. "But challenging. Very challenging." A gleam lit her dark eyes, showing a depth and a fire that almost made them smoulder like the embers of a fire.

Her eyes fixed on Kiera. "I accept, because this will help you, and because I can see this is a test." She tossed her tangled copper hair, thinking, But there are more effective ways of getting the information, but that will be for another time. Antagonising the man will not help me.

She moved away from the wall, content that she would not be attacked, at this immediate moment, anyway. But the way she held herself, it was like a hare, ready to bolt as soon as the fox bared its teeth. "And I'm Zaire, by the way, and 'dear' only by choice," despite her haughty words, her tone said that she was being playful- though her jokes were ever hard to discern. She hoped he would not ask about her single name, so clearly not of bretonic origin. It was one of the things she refused to speak of.

She thought about leaving, and it showed on her face, but then she hesitated. She decided to turn to Kiera frankly, and damn the consequences. "Kiera Knightfall," she said, having not used his name familiarly yet, not wishing to be presumptuous. "I am not a follower; I struggle to follower orders at all, so to the letter is completely questionable. I have my own mind, and I use it, and I have never officially been a member of any guild, though I considered one to be like family. I will never do anything for you I consider to be questionable morally, and there is a strong chance I will openly question your decisions, and even your authority. But always to your face." Her words displayed two things; that she knew herself far better than most could claim, and that she was not a liar. It was hard for her to explain to others the duality of her nature, the mass of contradictions that meant that what she did required lies- or 'diplomacy'- but that she refused to be a liar in her personal self. She only even tried with those she trusted.

"...what, this all comes down to, I guess," she said. "Is that you'll have to earn my trust, too. And that I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill me if I'm a little too candid." Her lips curved wryly. "I have warned you, afterall... and," she hesitated once more. "I thank you for your kindness, and this opportunity to make a difference."

She didn't curtsy, bow or scraqe, she only nodded her head to show she was finished, and then she left the room without waiting for a response, picking her way out the way a deer picks its way across the forest floor. The door shut softly behind her, and she turned left and passed two doors. She pushed the third open, her eyes narrowed and her breath baited, but it was only a room, rundown, but definately pleasant. She sighed and walked in. Pressing her hand to the door, she flicked a catch and locked it. She slung her pack and her whip down on the bed, and undressed quickly and efficiently before moving to the bath in the corner. She filled it and sank into it with a sigh, having been unable until now to wash the grime off her for a very long time.

When she finished, she dried herself off, and pulled on a clean shift and crawled under the covers of the rough quilt. She'd sort out her task and her company in the morning; now was the time for sleep.

She fell asleep, and the dreams of deep sleep assailed her, causing a frown to furrow her brow. But ever, her ears were alert for the sounds of danger.

Kiera listened intently. Her voice had changed quite dramatically. Although tentative at first, she assured her position authoritatively, ensuring that Kiera literally had no response. A number of times he opened his mouth to speak, but when she left the room, closing the door behind her, Kiera could do nothing but sit and gape and the door knob. He considered what she had said for a long time. Maybe a number of minutes, which is a long time to sit and appear to do nothing, before closing his mouth and chuckling to himself. A brave girl indeed. Not many would challenge him like that, especially in a location that is unknown to them and, if he were to call, potentially hostile.

Still smiling, however, he returned to the mass of parchment before him, recording details of missions and names of convicts he had either saved- or failed to save. A silent prayer for the dead, but then a swift recovery before moving on. He could not dwell on their memories for long. Sad it may be, that hundreds of innocents he could do nothing for were dying, but to try and stop them all from being arrested was quite literally to ask for a death warrant. Constantly alert and cracking down on anything that seemed of anarchist behaviour, the State were always watching.

He set aside one piece of paper, to find yet another bedraggled piece of parchment. Now, all traces of his smile for Zaire gone, he quickly recognised the leaf stamp as one of Laurent de Marquis, a fine ally and a good asset to the Revolutionaries. His bright and usually healthy eyes suddenly became tired-looking as he noticed a smear of blood in the bottom left corner. He wondered how the letter had managed to arrive here, in this pile, but almost at the same time, his common sense betrayed him and he opened the letter hurriedly.

Upon reading the words, his heart became heavy. He swore aloud, angry. Usually of a calm disposition, as displayed with Zaire when he spoke of killing her, these words angered him. He was not annoyed with de Marquis, no, far from it. Hudi, it seemed, had impersonally extended the vendetta he was already in the midst of with Kiera. Surely, de Marquis had wrote this, knowing that he was going to his death. Kiera regretted setting him such a difficult task, but once more would not dwell on it. He removed himself from the chair, got down on both knees and openly prayed to the Nines for de Marquis safety and freedom.

"Farewell, brave follower." He muttered aloud, a tear rolling down his dark skinned cheek, wet and symbolising the life of his friend falling from the face of the Earth, like leaves fell from a tree, or arrows from the sky.

Larry sighed into his hand, "It's getting late, i'm going to check up on keira then i'll catch some sleep." he said to the man infront of him, they were playing a game on aboard with several pieces, Larry was losing; Larry always lost at this game.

He shook his friends' hand and swigged some brandy from a hipflask, he passed the drink back to his friend and left for Keira's office, he patted his shirt down before knocking onto the man's door. "Hey Keira, it's Larry."

Kiera's sorrow was broken with the sound of a knock at the door. He heard his friend, Larry calling out, letting him know who was at the door. It had been a while since they had spoke, and all Kiera's anger about Larry's failure to report to him instantly evaporated at the sound of his voice. Unsociable at first, Larry had been a tough one. The strong silent type. An attentive man, always alert and ready to work. He did not shy away from his duties, and Kiera was glad of that. Getting up from his kneeling position and wiping the tears from his eyes, Kiera settled himself and answered,

"Come in, Larry. You don't have to announce yourself any longer, I trust you." Although it was a little reward, Kiera was always keen to show his followers that they were gaining his trust, even if they knew, like Larry did, that Kiera would trust him with his life. He paused, before adding to the still closed door, "I have two counts of grave news to deliver."

***
The guards had tied his hands behind his back and gagged his mouth, although they had first rubbed the gag all over their genitals and spat in it, just to further the convicts humiliation. The ex-informant for Kiera, Ferald, was supported between two chairs, all his weight resting on his knees. He had thought nothing of this torture, at first, until he had been left for what felt like days. Now, his knees were purple and bruised, pus-filled bags of agony that felt like someone had burnt them to ashes.

Finally, the guards entered, smiling eerily as they did. Unable to speak, all Ferald could do was stare blankly at them, all the time his knees aching and paining him tremendously. First, they moved the chairs away. Unable to balance and no hands to fall on, Ferald had fallen flat on his face, his jaw smashing into the concrete on impact. He heard a crack, and knew that his cheek was broken. The gag still in place, he was unable to scream out, as much as he wanted to. That itself was almost as agonising as his knees, or the pain from his newly injured jawline.

The guards continued to untie his bonds, ordering him to get up. Gingerly, Ferald removed the gag from his mouth and set it down beside him, tentatively pushing himself up with his freed arms into a press up position. He tried putting his weight on his legs, but all at once the pus bags in his knees split open, causing him to buckle to the floor again, writhing on the floor, screaming and clutching desperately at his knees. Once more he was ordered to stand, knowin g that if he failed again, the guards wouldn't hesitate to hit him, or drag him to his feet, like opponents in the arena might drag a dead body up to signify victory.

Finally managing to stand, having to use one of the chairs he had been propped against as support, Ferald faced the guards, a wild malice burning in his eyes. He would not tell them anything.

"Does that hurt?" One asked. He was a Dunmer. Although his face wasn't visible behind the helmet, Ferald could tell by the tone in his voice, the sound of authority and pretentiousness.

"Yes", he replied meekly, all elements of defiance gone from his spirit, after being so high just a few seconds ago.

"Good. Tell me, Ferald. You're a well-educated man. You have a history with us guards. You know the procedure, the risks. Why didn't you just follow orders like everybody else? Silly little man. You were being followed. All along. I can tell you this freely now, for those words will not escape this building ... Not by your mouth at any rate." Smiling again, he inclined his head to the silent guard next to him, who responded quickly, moving with an agility that seemed to give off an aura. He punched Ferald in the stomach, who doubled up, winded. He managed to remain stood up, and once he had composed himself he looked at the voiced guard once more.

"I will answer none of your questions, Dunmer. My choices were my own, and this is my punishment and mine alone. I accept all the consequences."

"Yours and yours alone, you say?" The Dunmer laughed aloud, "Surely you realised that we would not allow your family to live? Poor little Freida. She screamed like a wild Nix-Hound when we ... 'handled' her, too. Did you know that? Only just old enough, the best time. When they're old enough to bleed, they're old enough to butcher." The guard laughed aloud once more, openly daring Ferald to retort. Ferald began to cry. He did not have the energy to become enraged, although he could feel it burning in his stomach, he genuinely did not have the energy. Still crying, he said,

"You didn't? Please tell me you didn't."

"Tell me what I want to hear, and you will know the truth." He replied, stretching Ferald's conscience as far as it would go. Torn between comfort in knowledge and the possible death of Kiera, Ferald sighed. Kiera had thought he knew nothing of Kiera's whereabouts, only the place he left the names for him. Kiera had been wrong. Kiera didn't even know that Ferald knew he was called Kiera. Upon being asked to be their informant, Ferald had looked him up, just to mkake sure that he was a trustworthy man. Upon finding out that he was, he proceeded to follow Kiera for a while, to find out the location of his whereabouts, just in case Ferald had to make an unexpected trip there. He was still half-expecting Kiera and his men to burst in and save him, a reward for his hard work, but he knew it would not happen. He didn't know where he was, Kiera definitely didn't. On that thought, giving in to the desperation of his situation, Ferald said:

"I know nothing."

The Dunmer snarled at Ferald.

"Kill him. He has no information for us of any value. Oh and Ferald? I will personally ensure that the lie I told about your daughter, Freida, doesn't remain a lie for much longer. Remember, if she can cleed, she can butcher." Cackling with laughter once more, he nodded to the silent guard, who drew a knife and walked slowly towards Fedrald, who, with his last breaths, sent a short prayer out for his wife and daughter.

Kiera's sorrow was broken with the sound of a knock at the door. He heard his friend, Larry calling out, letting him know who was at the door. It had been a while since they had spoke, and all Kiera's anger about Larry's failure to report to him instantly evaporated at the sound of his voice. Unsociable at first, Larry had been a tough one. The strong silent type. An attentive man, always alert and ready to work. He did not shy away from his duties, and Kiera was glad of that. Getting up from his kneeling position and wiping the tears from his eyes, Kiera settled himself and answered,

"Come in, Larry. You don't have to announce yourself any longer, I trust you." Although it was a little reward, Kiera was always keen to show his followers that they were gaining his trust, even if they knew, like Larry did, that Kiera would trust him with his life. He paused, before adding to the still closed door, "I have two counts of grave news to deliver."

***
The guards had tied his hands behind his back and gagged his mouth, although they had first rubbed the gag all over their genitals and spat in it, just to further the convicts humiliation. The ex-informant for Kiera, Ferald, was supported between two chairs, all his weight resting on his knees. He had thought nothing of this torture, at first, until he had been left for what felt like days. Now, his knees were purple and bruised, pus-filled bags of agony that felt like someone had burnt them to ashes.

Finally, the guards entered, smiling eerily as they did. Unable to speak, all Ferald could do was stare blankly at them, all the time his knees aching and paining him tremendously. First, they moved the chairs away. Unable to balance and no hands to fall on, Ferald had fallen flat on his face, his jaw smashing into the concrete on impact. He heard a crack, and knew that his cheek was broken. The gag still in place, he was unable to scream out, as much as he wanted to. That itself was almost as agonising as his knees, or the pain from his newly injured jawline.

The guards continued to untie his bonds, ordering him to get up. Gingerly, Ferald removed the gag from his mouth and set it down beside him, tentatively pushing himself up with his freed arms into a press up position. He tried putting his weight on his legs, but all at once the pus bags in his knees split open, causing him to buckle to the floor again, writhing on the floor, screaming and clutching desperately at his knees. Once more he was ordered to stand, knowin g that if he failed again, the guards wouldn't hesitate to hit him, or drag him to his feet, like opponents in the arena might drag a dead body up to signify victory.

Finally managing to stand, having to use one of the chairs he had been propped against as support, Ferald faced the guards, a wild malice burning in his eyes. He would not tell them anything.

"Does that hurt?" One asked. He was a Dunmer. Although his face wasn't visible behind the helmet, Ferald could tell by the tone in his voice, the sound of authority and pretentiousness.

"Yes", he replied meekly, all elements of defiance gone from his spirit, after being so high just a few seconds ago.

"Good. Tell me, Ferald. You're a well-educated man. You have a history with us guards. You know the procedure, the risks. Why didn't you just follow orders like everybody else? Silly little man. You were being followed. All along. I can tell you this freely now, for those words will not escape this building ... Not by your mouth at any rate." Smiling again, he inclined his head to the silent guard next to him, who responded quickly, moving with an agility that seemed to give off an aura. He punched Ferald in the stomach, who doubled up, winded. He managed to remain stood up, and once he had composed himself he looked at the voiced guard once more.

"I will answer none of your questions, Dunmer. My choices were my own, and this is my punishment and mine alone. I accept all the consequences."

"Yours and yours alone, you say?" The Dunmer laughed aloud, "Surely you realised that we would not allow your family to live? Poor little Freida. She screamed like a wild Nix-Hound when we ... 'handled' her, too. Did you know that? Only just old enough, the best time. When they're old enough to bleed, they're old enough to butcher." The guard laughed aloud once more, openly daring Ferald to retort. Ferald began to cry. He did not have the energy to become enraged, although he could feel it burning in his stomach, he genuinely did not have the energy. Still crying, he said,

"You didn't? Please tell me you didn't."

"Tell me what I want to hear, and you will know the truth." He replied, stretching Ferald's conscience as far as it would go. Torn between comfort in knowledge and the possible death of Kiera, Ferald sighed. Kiera had thought he knew nothing of Kiera's whereabouts, only the place he left the names for him. Kiera had been wrong. Kiera didn't even know that Ferald knew he was called Kiera. Upon being asked to be their informant, Ferald had looked him up, just to mkake sure that he was a trustworthy man. Upon finding out that he was, he proceeded to follow Kiera for a while, to find out the location of his whereabouts, just in case Ferald had to make an unexpected trip there. He was still half-expecting Kiera and his men to burst in and save him, a reward for his hard work, but he knew it would not happen. He didn't know where he was, Kiera definitely didn't. On that thought, giving in to the desperation of his situation, Ferald said:

"I know nothing."

The Dunmer snarled at Ferald.

"Kill him. He has no information for us of any value. Oh and Ferald? I will personally ensure that the lie I told about your daughter, Freida, doesn't remain a lie for much longer. Remember, if she can bleed, she can butcher." Cackling with laughter once more, he nodded to the silent guard, who drew a knife and walked slowly towards Fedrald, who, with his last breaths, sent a short prayer out for his wife and daughter.

OOC: Sorry for double post o.0

Larry opened the door, "Two?" Larry asked, suddenly curious and forgetting the very reason why he had stepped into the room. He closed the door behind him and looked around him, the room was cosy and Larry could understand why Keira would spend his time here. "What about?" He added as he moved towards the desk, he placed his trench coat on the back of the chair and sat down, he ran a hand through his hair out of habit and leant back, he found he could relax in Keira's presence.

It was then that he looked up at keira, he noticed his eyes were slightly more red then usual, and had his skin been of a fairer tone, he might've figured out he had been crying. "You look horrid mate, what's wrong?" He asked, wondering if this was going to be some sort of confession that had kept Keira awake.

Kiera nooded as Larry sat down, asking about the double accounts of negative news. Evidently, Larry had noticed that Kiera had been weeping. Kiera shyed his face away, wiping his eyes once more and replying, "I have been crying for De Marquis. Laurent. He sent a letter to me, giving details of how he can no longer work with us. He has been cornered. Captured in the tight grip of the State. He is as good as dead, if not already." Kiera did not need to explain that it was for him he was mourning, hoping that Larry was intelligent enough to understand what was happening to their illicit faction. They were being outnumbered, picked off. Even if Zaire proved worthy of admission, Kiera knew that soon, their numbers would be scarily low.

"The second account of bad news is much less grave. Zaire, she is a Breton ... Sort of. She came from the wilderness, claiming aliiance to us, telling of her dissent towards the State. She is a trustworthy character, but most untrustworthy simultaneously. Our informant has been captured too, by the way. Taken by the guards. Fortunately, he knew nothoing of our whereabouts, however, as I'm sure you can imagine, we need a new one. Once again claiming prowess in infiltration, I have asked her to gather the names for us. There must be records. She will be breaking in to the White Gold Tower. I have suggested to her that you accompany her. You will accompany her. She has no choice in the matter. Sound fair?" Kiera asked, sitting back in his chair and breathing heavily.

Larry's face became stern, more stern then usual at the news of De Marquis, the man was well known by Larry but they had never met. Keira told him about Zaire, about how their contact had been captured and how he was supposed to break into the white gold tower. He stayed silent for a moment, it was alot to take in.

How could they figure out De Marquis was in this? he asked himself as he looked to the floor to hide his sadness at the news, he coughed into his hand and adjusted his position, the distraction was enough for him to concentrate on a new topic, "The White Gold tower is a well guarded place Kiera, it can be done; probably. But you want me to break into it with a stranger?" he added scratching his head, he was going over various solutions to getting out of the job, he'd never liked going near that building, it reminded him of how close he was to Hudi and how easy it would be just to snap his neck. But then he remembered he had a duty towards his nation, even if that duty was to look after a Breton. "So, tell me more about this Breton and please don't tell me she's into magic, i've never been fond of breaking into places with mages, their trinkets are always jingling even when they're not moving, it's not very helpful."

Kiera watched as Larry tried to hide his discomfort. Kiera was sure that it was an uncomfortable moment. Not being close to De Marquis personally, Kiera could understand that this moment was awkward for him. Kiera allowed him to speak, giving him the opportunity to change the subject in his favour. Kiera watched as he mulled over the daunting task of breaking in. Not being a thief or master of chicanery himself, Kiera had no suggestions as to how he could break in. That was not his department. Leading the faction and stopping arrests was his forte, and always would be. He had no intentions of ever learning any real skills in sneaking around. There was something oddly disconcerting about it, Kiera thought, knowing that the man before him could break into somewhere, do what he liked and leave without ever being detected. At least when Kiera killed people they knew about it.

Upon hearing Larry's question and description of his hatred toward mages, Kiera answered, "She is no mage. She appears to be no anything. She carries no weapons and appears to have no physical strength whatsoever. However, she claims ostentatious skill in infiltration, she told me specifically that she could infiltrate anywhere she wanted undetected. You must accompany this woman. She is ... strange. She told me that she was not a follower, never having been able to follow rules. She's a dissident. The very reason she is against the State is because they're trying to control her, which is of course what I'm trying to do. Not in the same way as the State are, but I need her to be loyal. I don't want to leave her on her own with someone I don't know. I need her to go with someone I trust, like you." Kiera paused, empathising with Larry who obviously didn't want to take this assignment on.

"Look, Larry. The first time will be difficult, I know. But just think, if you can find a safe route in and out of the Tower, for the rest of this guilds days we will have access to all the arrest warrants we can possibly need! And more if necessary. If we needed to take a hostage, it would be easy. We would have them wrapped around our finger! This is the very leverage we have been looking for all these years. Our informant giving up is terrible news, but at the same time a blessing. How have I only just realised this now?! This is a golden opportunity." Kiera had an addictive personality. Once an idea was in his head, it would be hard to retract.

"Larry, this is our time. We pull this off and we hit Hudi right where it hurts. I have a plan. I have plenty of guard apparel downstairs, I will go with you, dressed as guard. If anything goes wrong, hopefully one of the identification cards will hold up if I needed to come in and bail you out. Of course, all the identity cards would be people who have been reported as missing in action, but not all the guards will know that! If I can find an I.D. of a Redguard, I'm sure I could pass as him for long enough to get in, get you guys and get out if necessary. Come on, Larry, what do you say? If you choose, I will very regrettably let this chance slide, but I would not be happy about it. Dangerous, yes. But the prospers are well worth the risk. What do you reckon?"

Larry smirked, it was hard to refuse keira when he got into a rant. "You know me Keira, I always enjoy a challenge." He said dryly. "I'll take it, we might be able to go in via the sewer system maybe." He shrugged, "We'll see, but on the topic of assignments, Jameal; the man you sent me after, was clean. Nothing more then a shady fella'."

He's right, this could be the big job, if we find a way in, we can in and out, plan assassinations for hudi and maybe finally rid this man of his grip. he thought to himself as he waited for Keira to answer.

OOC: Morning soon? I can't post until Zaire has had some sleep.

OOC: Sorry, Illusionary. This was going to be the last Kiera being awake post anyway, and still will be!

Kiera smiled at his friend. He knew that Larry couldn't resist. The consequences of not acting, and delaying their attack would be severe. Everyday the fortifications upon the Tower were strengthened, and new loopholes found no longer acted as loopholes. Suddenly, a flurry of passion stirred in him, and he was planning crazy and wild schemes. The Revolutionaries must start planning right away! Right now! They must wake the guild and march in the morning. No. Kiera, no. Think. Everyone is tired, some, drunk. It would be utter folly to attempt anything so serious at such an hour. Asserting himself that he wasn't about to jump into action, Kiera thought of the dangers. It was likely that more would die. Was it worth it? He felt like Hudi himself just to have such a thought, but yes, it was. For all he knew, he would die too, but he would take comfort in death if his friends and accomplices completed the mission that he himself was unable to live through.

"You're a good man, Larry. I knew you wouldn't let me down. Now, however, it is time for rest. Go to your bed and sleep, for tomorrow will be a new day. A historical day, the day we begin to plan our infiltration. It will be tedious, the plan will have to be thoroughly revised by all involved, but I'm confident we can pull it off. We've rescued scores of innocents from their doom, and we haven't failed yet. We can do this too." He nodded and added, "And I appreciate the information you have given me about Jameal, although I think I might still keep one eye on him. I can't help, despite your evidence which always proves immaculately succinct, he is just too uncanny for my liking. This is not the hour, though, Larry. Go, and I will speak to you in the morning."

With that, Kiera stood up, walked round the desk, tapping Larry on the shoulder as a sign of respect as he did so, then headed down the corridor toward his own bedroom, the papers he had been filling in forgotten and left behind in the heat of the moment. They can wait, Kiera thought, smiling to himself as he lay down and closed his eyes, the prospect of their first real step to defeating Hudi still prominent in his mind.

IC post to follow tomorrow