Krom Grimblade /Laintar Dale Hall
Nord, Berserker

((ooc i will spell check and edit this later lol im at school bored as heck, btw rotgut is no ale or beer more like extreme vodka i believe actually moonshine for it was illegal in the empire and had to be made in secret it is how ever a very strong nordic drink also called frost stomach or something like that ))

Nodding to Davian "if you lead then my blade will go with you Breton, as long as we follow in the steps of dragon!" the Nord spoke solemnly." My blade thirsts for the blood of dragons!" with that last comment the berserker stepped outside needing to be outside for a bit not being used to having so many people around that were not attempting to kill him, but leaving another bottle of rotgut for his new allies to enjoy handing Jarn a bottle for himself " keep it with you he muttered might come in ahndy later on". On his way to the door He noticed a strange Nord looking terrified at the Khajit, scowling at him the berserker roughly shouldered past Jolgeir knocking him aside and continued on his way.
Sighing once he was outside"it has been so long since i have been with another group of warriors or even had a someone to trust, perhaps too long i do not know what to make of all these people. " he thought sadly to himself. Remember the newest Nord to join them he started scowling again" what sort of Nord shows such fear, a weak willed one" he thought darkly. The berserker stalked off on his own, white bearskin cloak flowing behind him following the tracks of the orc warrior"perhaps a kindred spirit in this quest and if not that then the orc would at least be a good ally to have in the coming quest he was obviously a veteran warrior" he thought. With those thoughts in his head the Nord continued to follow after the Orc hoping to find someone worthy to share his Rotgut with.

Cassius Civello - Riverwood

Cassius’ ears were met with a piercing accent. Dunmer. He exhaled lengthily and rolled his eyes.

“You there, knight. What was your reason for assaulting that boy in town."

What is your reason for disturbing me, elf? Cassius’ face reshaped from a scowl to a pleasant, warm expression. He turned, and strode toward the Dunmer, the wooden floorboards creaking under his steel boots. Of course, the nobleman’s guards had already taken to the appropriate position; to the elf’s sides, their hands readily on their hilts.

Cassius gently moved his guards away and addressed the mer. “Please, do excuse my friend’s impetuous actions; he had the sapling down as a pickpocket,” he lied, the words flowing from Cassius’ mouth naturally in a smooth melody. “Can’t say I blame him – the little urchin had a look on his face, he did. Look away for a nanosecond, and you’ll be left penniless. It’s better to slap their habits out of them before it grows, and infects those surrounding. True, a full fledged boot may have been a trickle too harsh, but the good people of Riverwood can rest easy, knowing the little fetcher has suffered harshly for his wrongdoings.” Cassius chuckled softly, though quickly retracted his snigger. His tone darkened and his face manifested signs of severity; he took another step toward the Dunmer, and his guards followed suit.

“Still, you, Dunmer, have the audacity to accuse me of crimes I did not commit. I should slay you where you stand… but no, instead, I offer you the chance for forgiveness. Apologise, now!” Cassius spat with venom into the elf’s ear, careful to not attract the attention of others.

Standing back from the Dunmer, Cassius noticed that the nosy, lanky Altmer remained towering over the group. Is she still here? The Imperial sighed, and addressed her curtly. “You, fair maiden, have no business here. You’re of no relevance to me or the grand quest. Cease and desist immediately. Thank you.” Cassius shot the mer an acerbic glance and turned back to the Dunmer.

“I’m waiting.” Cassius crossed his arms and began tapping his boot on floor, his harsh gaze stuck focused on the Dunmer’s red eyes.

Jarn wasn't sure if the old Dunmer was talking to him or not but he chuckled anyway. "You are right, friend. I was just thinking the same thing. He would have have us do the fighting and claim the glory for himself." Jarn hawked and spat into the fire, causing it to hiss, to show his disgust. "I've known many good men die because of little lordlings' arrogance." Jarn felt a familiar fire build up in side him as he thought of the friends he had lost for the 'glory' of the Empire. "What is your name, friend?"

Senes overheard Draythan question an Imperial on why he assualted a boy in town. Senes turned and saw an Imperial who looked like he had never seena day of battle before in his life, complete with 2 guards. Senes scowled. He had no respect for warriors who had to travel with bodyguards, and even less for people who attacked children. Senes knew that he wasn't the best person in the world; he had done alot of things he wasn't proud of in the past, but he always drew the line at harming children.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the Imperial started talking to Draythan in a condescending tone of voice, like he was a child, and even demanded that he apologize! Senes's brow furrowed and he frowned at the Imperial's arrogence and audacity. He strapped his sheild to his left arm, and half way drew his sword from its sheath. He walked over to the Imperial and stood by Draythan.

"He owes you no apology, Imperial. He was not the one who attacked children. Though, I suppose that's all the 'mighty Empire'," Senes's raspy voice said, becoming sarcastic, "can handle these days, isn't it? Children?" Senes chuckled for a moment, then became deadly serious, staring the Imperial straight in the eyes. His voice took a threatening tone as he rasped, "You should learn to not talk talk to your racial superiors in the manner you just did, Imperial. Otherwise, I may have to teach you a lesson. Trust me when I say that you don't want that. So walk away, little Imperial."

OOC: Ignore the general trashy-ness of this post; I'm tired and stressed atm.

Cassius turned to the other Dunmer creeping up behind him. At the gentle ‘shing’ of the elf’s sword scraping up its sheath, the guards drew their blades, also. The Dunmer was largely ignored until he struck a nerve of Cassius’ – a very sensitive nerve, at that.

"You should learn to not talk talk to your racial superiors in the manner you just did, Imperial. Otherwise, I may have to teach you a lesson. Trust me when I say that you don't want that. So walk away, little Imperial."

Blood began to boil in Cassius’s veins until the fury rippled throughout his body; his hands shook slightly as he closed the gauntlet into a tight fist, ready to strike the Dunmer if he took a step closer. Not the time, Cassius, not the time. This filthly specimen will meet his marker soon enough. The Imperial exhaled, his eyes narrowed to slits, and stared into the mer.

“No… no, I shall not trust you. You have the gall to stand before me, speaking of racial superiority, when you and your filthy race were advocators of slavery! Slavery! And what of Vvardenfell? The smoking ruin which many of your kind once called home, now serves as home to vengeful Argonian invaders whilst your pitiful little race cowers on the island of Solstheim, slowly dying off, one by one.” Cassius spoke bitterly and hatefully; the Dunmer would not dare touch him, not yet. Cassius smiled slightly and stood up as straight as his spine would allow. “Ah, but then there’s Cyrodiil. Home to the mighty Imperial race, and the heart of the Empire. Not a more civilised province in all of Tamriel.” Cassius had to fight to uphold his expression; he knew the Empire was crumbling, and as an imperialist, that sad reality brought nothing but sadness to his heart. He shook off the thought and shot the Dunmer another glare.

“Do not ever speak of racial supremacy again, you dirty hypocrite. And do not question my actions, for every act I take is for the greater good – and the greater good, is always right. And you, you, are of a low, pathetic birth; your opinion has no value and never will. That Argonian sapling you’re so ready to protect? He’d happily see you penniless just to satisfy his own greed.” Cassius paused for a moment; the occupants of the hall began to direct their gaze to Cassius’ and the Dunmer’s direction and a small crowd of elegantly dressed nobles began to form. Cassius took a few paces back and motioned for his guards to sheath their weapons. He addressed the crowd.

“Nothing to see here, my friends. Just this Dunmer trying, and failing, to build tension within the group over petty animosities. Pay him no heed.” The crowed nodded and a select few similar to Cassius in appearance shook their heads at the Dunmer.

Happy with the reaction, Cassius grinned before turning back to the Dunmer. “Now, you owe me an apology, also. I’ll be waiting at the table in the corner once you’ve calmed down. Understood? Excellent.”

With that, Cassius strode away from the Dunmer and toward the aforementioned table, his cape fluttering behind him. He sat on an ornate wooden chair, his eyes not leaving the Dunmer.

Jolgeir, Laintar Dale Lords Hall

Jolgeir continued to stand petrified from fear of the Khajiit but luckily another Nord walked into the room knocking Jolgeir to the side a bit, Jolgeir was removed from his petrified state and he immediately turned his attention to the Lord ignoring the Khajiit completely. The other people in the room where talking while Jolgeir remained silent, he awaited for the Lord to speak, everybody else's pvssyr was ignored.

OOC: Little rushed, excuse the excessive copy pasting and overall crappyness.

Drathyn, Riverwood

“Please, do excuse my friend’s impetuous actions; he had the sapling down as a pickpocket, Can’t say I blame him – the little urchin had a look on his face, he did. Look away for a nanosecond, and you’ll be left penniless. It’s better to slap their habits out of them before it grows, and infects those surrounding. True, a full fledged boot may have been a trickle too harsh, but the good people of Riverwood can rest easy, knowing the little fetcher has suffered harshly for his wrongdoings.”

Drathyn could tell he was lying, he saw the act first hand. Anger grew inside of Drathyn as the imperial continued.

“Still, you, Dunmer, have the audacity to accuse me of crimes I did not commit. I should slay you where you stand… but no, instead, I offer you the chance for forgiveness. Apologise, now!”

Drathyn was about to go over the edge, the Imperial's words burned at him. Each one urging him to send an arrow through the Imperial's skull. Just as he was about to return a well thought out and harsh reply Auelenne interjected. "Assaulting a boy?" She asked aloud, once again the Imperial made a rude remark, this time towards Auelenne.

"You, fair maiden, have no business here. You’re of no relevance to me or the grand quest. Cease and desist immediately. Thank you.”

Then Drathyn heard the sharp sound of a sword being drawn l as Senes approached the group. The egocentric Imperial's guards drawing their blades as Senes drew closer. He spoke to the Imperial in an agitated tone "He owes you no apology, Imperial. He was not the one who attacked children. Though, I suppose that's all the 'mighty Empire' can handle these days, isn't it? Children? You should learn to not talk talk to your racial superiors in the manner you just did, Imperial. Otherwise, I may have to teach you a lesson. Trust me when I say that you don't want that. So walk away, little Imperial."

Drathyn was glad to have Auelenne and Senes at his back, it would be a fair fight now if there was open conflict. However the Imperial did not back down and continued his insulting rant, this time directed towards Senes. 'your pitiful race' these three words struck Drathyn with the force of a warhammer Our pitiful race! Pah look at yourself and your people your filthy Imperial pig! Drathyn though to himself as the imperial continued his long and strung out chain of insults. Four more words spilled from the Imperials mouth 'of low, pathetic birth' once again inciting rage within Drathyn. Do you even have any idea who you are talking to! A holy Ordinator more noble than your entire family of dirty politicians!

Once again just as Drathyn was about to retaliate the noble turned and addressed the crowd that had formed around them. As he turned Drathyn unfastened his large hunting knife, his hand gripping the bone handle with intense force. Say one more word and you die here Imperial thought Drathyn as the noble addressed the crowd. “Nothing to see here, my friends. Just this Dunmer trying, and failing, to build tension within the group over petty animosities. Pay him no heed.” He turned back to face Drathyn with a smile upon his face “Now, you owe me an apology, also. I’ll be waiting at the table in the corner once you’ve calmed down. Understood? Excellent.”

The imperial turned and made his was towards the table, as soon as he had taken his seat in a elegant wooden chair there was a dull twang as an arrow embedded itself into the back of the chair mere inches from the Imperial's head. Drathyn standing in the hall his bow still raised, the nobles that were still watching gasped as they realized what had happened. Drathyn placed his bow on his back and walked up to the Imperial addressing him in an extremely aggressive tone "Watch your tongue Imperial or next time I'll make sure my arrow embeds itself in your skull and not a chair." he yanked the sharp steel arrow from the chair and walked back towards Senes and Auelenne, his hands clenched in fists.

Senes Varvun, Riverwood

Senes snarled at the arrogant Imperial's words. He drew his sword completely as the Imperial turned and walked towards a table sitting down. Senes smiled as Draythan unleashed an arrow next to the Imperial's head. But Draythan's threat wasn't enough to satisfy Senes's rage. Senes pointed his weapon at the Imperial and took several steps foward. "You," he rasped, fury in his voice, "have no idea what you speak of. What did it take for my noble race to leave our homeland? Gods disappearing. A volcano erupting. A sneak attack by thousands of Argonians. And what did it take for your 'Empire' to crumble? One of your Emperors being killed? Pathetic." He pratically spat at the Imperial, as old racial prejudices bubbled to the surface in his fury.

Suddenly, Senes's tact disappeared, and his self-control vanished. He dropped into a combat stance and said angrily, "The lowest of my House was ten times more noble than the greatest of your family, you n'wah. Now, do want to back up your words with action? Do you dare test your skill against an Ordinator? Do you dare to challange someone who has killed far worse than you for far less than what you have said? Or will you prove to be a coward like the rest of your kind?"

Drathyn, Riverwood

Senes walked past Drathyn pulling his sword from it's sheath, rage enveloped the words that came from his mouth as he spoke to the Imperial. "You, have no idea what you speak of. What did it take for my noble race to leave our homeland? Gods disappearing. A volcano erupting. A sneak attack by thousands of Argonians. And what did it take for your 'Empire' to crumble? One of your Emperors being killed? Pathetic." Drathyn smiled as Senes threw insults at the Imperial, however as Senes rage began to grow Drathyn became concerned. Drathyn himself had pushed the limits or an all out brawl, however Senes openly challenged the Imperial to a fight. Seeing as things could get complicated Drathyn strung two arrows on his bow, aiming it at the guards that stood side by side, "Don't move." he commanded in his gravely voice.

Cassius remained silent for a moment, marginally shocked at the arrow beside his head, until he burst into a near fit of laughter. His chuckle echoed throughout the room, drawing further attention from the crowd. His loyal guards, of course, followed suit, and began to laugh, also.

The laughter ceased as Cassius took a small sip from the wine glass lying in front of him. He wiped a fake tear. "Oh, mercy... how very sad."

"Don't move," the Dunmer archer commanded in his distinctively hoarse accent. With that, Cassius sniggered and hoisted himself up from his seat.

"Oh, look. I moved," he said coldly. The guards smiled and were about to chuckle some more, though Cassius signalled them not to. He shuffled out from behind the clothed table, almost knocking over a bottle in the process.

Cassius shifted his view to each Dunmer for a moment before addressing the mer who claimed to be an 'Ordinator'. "Quite clearly, you're ignorant of my race's history. I wish you no ill will for that, for I in fact pity you greatly. True, the Empire has indeed seen better days, though Cyrodiil still stands strong, supported the Empire with all her will until its former glory is regained. Morrowind, on the other hand? Well, she’s an unstable wreck, who if kicked hard enough, will eventually fall on itself, crushing all her tainted children and their cities. And Vvardenfell? Like I said, she burns, Dunmer, and will so for eternity. No matter the argument you put forth, it’s the same result: Cyrodiil lives, Morrowind is dead, forgotten, forever lost to the flames which consume her.” Cassius’ gave his hair a gently swish and wiped the sweat taking residence on his forehead. He spoke once more, all the hate mixed together to create a tone of such bitter harshness it almost hurt to hear. “Good riddance.”

His legs tired, Cassius sat back down and removed his cloak, revealing his shining armour in all its splendour. He spoke calmly. “So, you challenge me to a dual? Okay, I accept your challenge. It’d be an honour to defeat you in single combat, spilling your inferior blood for all to see. Most definitely. But now, now is not the time. Whether you like it or not, which I sure don’t, we cannot hide from the truth: we’re in this together. The reason we’re here is to cleanse the evil terrorising Tamriel, saving our own skins in the process. There’s not much else to it. Until that problem is quelled, you must keep your turbulent emotions under control, less you kill us all.” Cassius removed his gauntlets and wiggled his numb fingers. “I hope I phrased that in a manner you could comprehend. Now, is there anything else? You’re causing quite the scene.”

Drathyn, Riverwood

Drathyn lowered his bow, "Senes, his time will come swifter than he thinks it. Let him rejoice in the little time he has left in his already short life." Drathyn placed the two razor sharp arrows back into the padded quiver that hung at his waist. He looked Senes in the eye, the look itself revealing what Drathyn was thinking. One day we will put them in their place brother. Drathyn placed his bow on his back once again and walked over a table, uncorking a bottle of whiskey and pouring a small glass. He sat down at the table spinning the glass between his fingers watching the liquid move from side to side. This Imperial was an exception to Drathyn's equality policy, for even though he did not discriminate by race on first glance, the character of the person determined his thoughts. And so far the Imperial race seemed the same, egocentric bureaucrats fed up with the lost glory of the empire.


OOC: Edited some stuff in

Kordin The Furious - Whiterun

---

Before Kordin could even begin to reply to the Greybeard, the sound of a man's shouting filled the room. Without even a second to try and figure out what was going on, Kordin saw an Imperial noble who had strode in the front door had introduced himself to Kordin directly, and immediatly began picking fights with his team. It started as a paltry argument, shouting and the calling of names. But things took off quickly, as men under his command and the what looked to be the Imperial's personal guards drew swords on one another. As a crows began to form, the nobleman addressed the crowd, blaming one of Kordin's men for starting the fight, and walked away. But this was not the end of things, as the accused mer fired an arrow at the imperial, missing his head by mere inches.

This was the final straw, as two of his own men approached the lone Imperial, Kordin strode briskly though the small crowd and right over to the scene of the action. Grabbing one of their shoulders with each of his hands, Kordin wrench them apart from each other and the Imperial with an hard tug. Immediately he looked up from the ground, revealing all of his facial features and scars, including his red eyes that were burning with rage.

"I don't know what in Oblivion is going on here, and gods be damned if I give a rat's ass about who started it! We have more important matters on the line, dragons roam these lands, and every man and mer in Tamriel is at risk of their lives if we don't stop this bickering and get on with what we have to do! You men ought to be ashamed of yourselves for this.

Kordin's shouting was like the fierce roar of a grizzly bear. The entire room fell completely silent seconds after he began, and were doing the same after he stopped. Most were staring at him in shock. Pushing the two men under his command away, he took a step between them and pointed a finger rudely at the imperial.

"You... You say your here to join us. If that is indeed true, then that means you were sent by the king. I'd like you to present me with your orders, if you don't mind?"

Kordin was quieter this time, speaking directly to the nobleman. He unfolded his hand and held it out, waiting to receive the nobleman's parchment document, if he had one.

Senes Varvun, Riverwood

Senes scoffed as the Imperial said, “So, you challenge me to a dual? Okay, I accept your challenge. It’d be an honour to defeat you in single combat, spilling your inferior blood for all to see. Most definitely. But now, now is not the time. Whether you like it or not, which I sure don’t, we cannot hide from the truth: we’re in this together. The reason we’re here is to cleanse the evil terrorising Tamriel, saving our own skins in the process. There’s not much else to it. Until that problem is quelled, you must keep your turbulent emotions under control, less you kill us all. I hope I phrased that in a manner you could comprehend. Now, is there anything else? You’re causing quite the scene.”

"Typical. A coward's excuse. Though I would expect nothing more from an Imperial swine like you. I'm watching you, scum. One step more out of line, and I swear I will gut you like a slaughterfish." He sheathed his sword as Draythan looked him in the eyes and said, "Senes, his time will come swifter than he thinks it. Let him rejoice the little time he has left in his already short life." He urned his back on the Imperial and walked to a table with Draythan. "Some children just have no respect for their betters," he said angrily, but loud enough that the Imperial boy could probably hear him.

Tariq - Laintar Dale - Lord's Hall

The Khajiit Witchhunter remained silent scoffing a quiet snort at the Imperial’s words, he knew about mysticism, quite a lot actually as he often employed that particular magic school in his line of work and in fact it couldn’t do those things. At least Tariq had no proof it could perhaps the Whispers or the Synod could but not the average spell caster, hearing Xerca’s confirmation that he wasn’t well versed in mysticism made the Witchhunter smile in slight amusemant. Tariq was however even if Khajiit didn’t have the reputation for being spell casters; apart from of the more obscure and rarely seen breeds of the Elsweyr jungle heartland.

The Witchhunter let the Imperial finish his speech, Tariq finding the nobleman grossly underestimated the intelligence of dragons; a creature with its own language and writing system was more than a simple minded beast at least that was what old stories told. Then his former leader spoke dividing the group leaving him under the charge of Davian not the Witchhunter complained, along with Hanniel, Surius and Krom after all one was dead weight; the nobleman, which had now lost his mage-argument… unless Tariq came forward with his skills; the questioned remained if he wanted to. After all his knowledge of direct offensive magic was limited even if he could use Tzhiazi, an overall powerful weapon in its own right as a conduit to channel minor elemental damage it was little compared one fully versed in that school.

On the question of where they were going the Witchhunter really didn’t mind, if there dragons at either one of the spots the chances of success was still slim at best particularly with one team member being pretty much a useless dead weight. Unless they used Surius as bait… hmm options to think about should it come that.

Auelenne, Riverwood

Auelenne was enraged by the arrogant fool before her, but her anger was mostly subdued by the righteous actions of both Drathyn and Senes.

Until she heard the words "Morrowind is dead... good riddance."

Her blood boiled, and she wanted to do something, say something - but the snake tongued s'wit had already turned his back and walked away.
Kordin's bellowed words eased her mind slightly, but she'd probably hold that new grudge for the next 50 years.

She stared pink-faced, gritting her teeth at the bold Imperial. When she thought she had caught his casual gaze, she quickly made a motion she hoped he'd notice:
I'll be watching you...
She pointed her index and middle fingers from her left hand at her eyes, then quickly pointed at him with the motion.

I don't have any problem putting him down like a dog if his careless actions are going to affect our image. She walked over to Drathyn and reached for his glass, silently asking for the okay to take a shot.

Drathyn, Riverwood

Drathyn was beginning to calm down when Senes walked over, still upset from the intense argument. "Some children just have no respect for their betters," said Senes as he approached the table, it was obviously a remark meant to be overheard. Drathyn poured another small glass of whiskey and pushed it towards Senes, "Here, it will calm your nerves." Just then Auelenne walked up motioning to his glass, he slid it over to her. She's an odd one, but very friendly. Almost reminds me of my grandmother. He poured himself another shot, downing it quickly. The whiskey warming his insides.

Auelenne, Riverwood

Auelenne grabbed a wooden chair and sat down with the glass. For a moment she sad nothing, then she muttered:
"Morrowind's not dead."

She gazed at the floor in silence, then at Drathyn and Senes. Her eyes seemed desperate to have them agree with her.
Another moment passed, and she quietly repeated the words, almost at a whisper, into the disagreeing air.

"Morrowind's not dead."

She swirled the contents of her glass in contemplation, then raised it to both her friends.
"May we be alive at the same time next year." She offered a genuine smile.
She quickly downed the contents and tried not to grimace at the aftertaste. She wasn't used to drinking hard alcohol, and the burning in her stomach forced her to make a sour face.
She slammed the cup down to look more macho, and winced with a slight pain as she shook her wrist.
"I'm not what I used to be." She said, offering her age as an excuse.

Morrowind's not dead...

Drathyn Verethi, Riverwood

Drathyn poured another small glass, this time toasting with Auelenne and Senes. The old Altmer muttered a few words "Morrowind is not dead." Drathyn gulped down the alcohol. "You are right, one day we will unite and drive the N'wah from our home." Drathyn looked down and played with his empty glass, twirling it in circles. "I've been there a few times, my mother and father crossed the border just after I was born." Drathyn looked up at Auelenne, "I wish I could have seen it before the ministry fell. My grandmother would tell me stories every now and then about Vivec city, and the Tribunal." Drathyn looked back down, sadness deep on his face.

Senes Varvun, Riverwood

Senes drained the glass of whiskey Draythan handed him in one gulp, then shook his head. He was fuming on the inside. He was about to kill the Imperial fetcher. He tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths, but it didn't help. He rested his head in his hands, as he heard Auelenne say multiple times, "Morrowind's not dead." Senes wanted to believe her. He had told himself that for years after it was destroyed. He had tried to convince himself that his friends, his family, that everyone he cared for wasn't gone. But the decades had proven him wrong. He fumbled around his neck for the locket that contained the portrait of his wife. He gazed into her painted face, still beautiful even in paint, even after all these years.

He closed his eyes tight to prevent the tears from falling down his face. He heard Draythan say, "You are right, one day we will unite and drive the N'wah from our home. I've been there a few times, my mother and father crossed the border just after I was born. I wish I could have seen it before the ministry fell. My grandmother would tell me stories every now and then about Vivec city, and the Tribunal." Senes looked up, sadness across his face.

"Stories can't do them justice." he managed to choke out quietly, fighting back bitter tears. "No story can fully convey how grand Vivec City was. No story can tell someone how noble Vivec himself was. No story can allow you to feel the happiness of sitting by a lake in the Ascadian Isles with a loved one in your arms, watching the sunset." Senes's eyes welled up with tears as he remembered all of those long afternoons spent with his beloved. He put his face in his hands and said quietly, "But stories do allow you to not feel the pain of their loss."

Drathyn, Riverwood

Drathyn listed to Senes, he could tell that the old Dunmer was grieving. Perhaps this is why he seeks death? Maybe he will find a meaning upon this journey....for his sake I hope he does. Drathyn looked back down at his glass, the light from the large fire at the end of the hall casting orange and yellow flashes on the glass. Drathyn was thinking deeply about how glorious it would be to retake Morrowind from the Argonians. The more Drathyn thought on it the more prejudice he grew, his former philosophy of equality diminishing as his anger towards the invaders grew. Not all Argonians are bad, some are refugees like the boy in the village, far from their home. But...they are different, they struck us while we where down, when we were weak. Drathyn grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured another shot, draining the small glass with ferocity to get his mind off of Morrowind.

"I promise you Senes, one day we will take back Morrowind.....one day"

Auelenne, Riverwood

Auelenne listened to Senes' mournful words, and she reached out for his hand.

Morrowind's my home, but I have no one left to mourn there.

"I understand loss." She said.
"My old guild betrayed me. I was given a choice between their fate and my husband's." She looked at Drathyn and Senes with dry eyes.

I've shed far too many tears, I've run out...

"Politics back then were very important, and the future of many hung in that balance." Her left hand balled into a tight fist, and her eyes narrowed.
"I chose to save my brothers and sisters instead." The gaze of her soft eyes fell to the tabletop and paused. "And I lost everything."

Everything.

A young, bulky Nord approached Jarn and handed him a bottle of Rotgut whisky. kill him.

"Keep it with you he muttered might come in handy later on." The young Nord muttered before leaving the hall.

"My thanks, friend." Jarn called after him. Rotgut was a noteworthy gift indeed what with it being illegal and for someone he didn't know to hand him a whole bottle . . . well, Jarn didn't know what to make of it. He considered following the young Nord to thank him further but decided against it. He would be sure to speak to him later though. He admired the Nord's armour but didn't desire it. Jarn's armour had served him well for many years and it fitted him well. He did not want to have to get used to a new set of armour just before entering a fight. Knowing one's armour and weapons was more important than purchasing new ones, Jarn thought.

Although the young Nord had advised him to keep it for later, Jarn couldn't resist having a 'taster' now. Perhaps it would satisfy his hunger until they finally ate. He uncorked the bottle and took a large swig of the whisky. He swilled the liquid around his mouth before swallowing and felt the familiar, ice cold sensation in his stomach. It wasn't particularly pleasant but it was invigorating. Jarn coudn't resist another swig or two before corking the bottle again. He relaxed a little and let the poison do its work.

The entire hall fell to silence at Kordin’s ferocious roar; Cassius could feel the crossbreed’s warm breath hitting his face. The stare of the people’s beady eyes unnerved the nobleman, and muscles tensed slightly. Thankfully, the pvssyr soon resumed until the hall was once again filed with laughter and conversation. Loosening up, Cassius addressed Kordin cordially.

“Aye, my friend. I thought, and said, the same. But he’s an angry, odious little mer; he’d happily jeopardize our mission in the name of feeding his own personal animosities. Be wary of him and his friend; you’ve seen first hand what they’re capable of.” Cassius took a sip of wine before continuing, his glass illuminated by the constant flickering of the candle. “But I digress; you seek proof, and as such, proof is what you shall be presented with.” The Imperial smiled and turned to his guard.

“Orestes, the document, if you will,” Cassius ordered. Orestes placed a crinkled sheet of parchment in Kordin’s rough hands.

“I assume this’ll suffice? As I mentioned before rudely interrupted, I arrived at the King’s Palace a little later than intended. Complications, you see. Progress was further impeded by the harsh snowstorms raging over the land. We fought on, however, and eventually found our way. Reading my orders again, I realised I was to be led by a crossbreed, thus I approached you as soon as I entered the grand hall. I must say, it’s been quite the journey, but having a dragon fall at the strike of our blade? Well, that’ll be quite the glorious moment, don’t you think?” Cassius chuckled and gently whipped his hair. “By the time this is all said and done, we’ll be hailed heroes by men and mer throughout Tamriel. Well worth the effort, would you not agree?” Again, Cassius forced a warm grin. I’m sick of all this smiling; my mouth’s beginning to ache.

“Though, once more, I deviate. Now, is there anything more you wish to discuss? You have my ear, commander.”

Ugh, if I have to address this filthy crossbreed as my superior one more time, I think I’ll have to scream… Cassius mused, upholding a pleasant expression. However, his attention was briefly stolen by the skinny Altmer performing some odd gesture. Is she looking at me? The Imperial narrowed his eyes in confusion, shaking his head at the mer. He eventually just shrugged to his guards and scoffed, not quite sure what to think.

Riverwood, Governor's Hall

Undrad

The Greybeard watched the scene unfold, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening with every exchanged sentence and action; however, he said nothing, allowing the manmer to act instead. Apparently, the king had appointed him the leader of this group, so there was no reason for Undrad to interfere, even if he was on the verge of doing so when the banter elevated to an arrowshot and it seemed the foolish Imperial noble, apparently one Cassius, would provoke the Dunmer of the group into attacking him. How that would've ended, the aged Nord couldn't say; however, it would be most detrimental to their mission and, more importantly, his mission if the hunters tore themselves apart before even leaving Riverwood.

Another thunk as the wood of Undrad's staff met the floor, and the youthful Nordic voice filled the hall again, replacing the awkward silence that reigned after the outburst and Cassius' rather fake-sounding friendly reply. Though there was still tension in the air, the Greybeard hoped setting them on their track would defuse it for the time being, until they finished their dealings with the dragons. Afterwards, he cared little about the fate of his temporary companions, for, as cruel as it might've sounded, they were merely convenient tools the Greybeards chose to use to achieve their goal.

"I would ask of you to push whatever schemes and feuds you carry within you back for the duration of this journey, lest it prove our doom. Do not mistake the dragons for a prize beast to slay." The fact the voice was incapable of conveying emotion, always speaking in a matter-of-factly tone, didn't stop Undrad from displaying his annoyance - one could see that, as he spoke, his usually quite dark eyes flashed momentarily and, beneath all the hair and the scarf, the wrinkles on his face were even deeper than when he began speaking. Kyne willing, they will cease their foolishness over race and creed when we leave this place and they understand the gravity of their task. The manmer speaks as though he does already; I wonder...

"The latest sightings of the dragons reach this town as mere rumours, coming from the north. But what cannot be denied is that a convoy, well armed though it was, recently disappeared in that same north." As the staff spoke, Undrad motioned again towards the messenger of the king with his arm. This time, however, the movement was much more forceful and rigid. "I urge you to consult the emissary for what little actual information available and the king's wishes."

Kordin The Furious - Riverwood Governor's Hall

---

Kordin nodded slowly as the Imperial addressed him calmly. One of the nobleman's servant's handed him a roll of parchment at his master's command. Kordin unrolled the document and his eyes flicked across the writing. It was indeed orders from the King, nearly the same words as those that had been on the orders Kordin had received. He rolled the paper back up and handed it back to the servant who had given it to him.

"Your orders are legitimate, I apologize for having questioned you." Kordin's voice was calm, and with it came no hostility. "And as I said, I care not about who started it. The fact is, this matter is far to serious, to myself, and to all men and mer of this realm, to be stopped by pointless bickering and challenges. All I ask, is that if something like this happens again, turn the other cheek. If that doesn't work for you, come to me, and I will see that the problem is sorted out. Do we have an understanding?"

Before Kordin could receive a reply, the light glow of the Greybeard's staff once again illuminated the dark corner in which he sat. The voice came again from everywhere, yet also nowhere. Everything it had to say was exactly what Kordin wanted his men to hear. There was not a moment to be wasted. As the voice ceased to speak, and the light of the Greybeard's staff diminished, Kordin turned back to face the Imperial. He didn't want any more trouble with him, but he could feel a sense of contempt coming from the man who sat before him, lavishly sipping at his wine. Kordin could see it in his eyes, he could tell Cassius didn't want to drag this encounter any longer than the Dragoon did. With a low sigh, he addressed the nobleman again.

"Now, I hate to reiterate myself, but have I made myself clear?"

OOC:
I know it's short, but I'm a little strapped on time right now and I don't want to fall behind.