Quintus Aventurnus, north of Rihad

"I do not know the exact costs of keeping my forces supplied and able, however as payment for each man I suppose that 150 silver per soldier for every 4 months would be sufficient. With a bonus of 50 silver upon completion of our services." said Athanden, the imposing-looking Dunmer mercenary leader.

Quintus recoiled slightly at the offer. He knew it was bad policy to show emotion during negotiations, but he knew Terentius would be doing the real negotiation the next day. Who did these elves think they were to charge so much for mercenary services?

"Well then, sir," he said with an amused laugh "that's quite the price you're charging! Sir Terentius will have his work cut out for him in tomorrow's price negotiations!"

Typical Dunmer arrogance with these ones. I'm glad I don't have to talk prices with them! Like most members of the Order of Eight and One, Aventurnus had his prejudices against elven races, although Dunmer were alien enough from their Dominion cousins to soften his bias.

"Return to Rihad Keep tomorrow afternoon to discuss the price of your services. If I were you, I'd try to present something a little less outrageous to the Knight Commander than you did to me. Your men and mer should remain camped out here. Goodbye, and I'll see you tomorrow at the negotiations."

With that, Quintus Aventurnus saluted the mercenary leaders and spurred his horse on, riding back to Rihad with Sir Latham and Sir Honmund.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swims-in-Shadows, Rihad Safehouse

"I have other ways to make sure we don't attract attention from the guards." responded Rithe as he walked past Swims-in-Shadows and out of the room.

"Those ways had better work." said Swims, not wanting to outright threaten the obviously menacing assassin. He'll get his in due time. No need to say anything.

Much more surprising to the bandit than Rithe's dismissal of his concerns was the offer, or rather, demand, of the two young Bretons. For some bizarre reason, the two of them actually wanted to join the group without even knowing its purpose. Indeed, the young woman's statement wasn't even phrased as a request; she treated it as certain that she would be allowed into the group. Swims was taken aback by their audacity, although he couldn't say he wasn't intrigued.

Servyn opened his mouth to give his take on the matter. Swims simply glared at the mer as he spoke, agitation welling up within him. He still hadn't forgiven Servyn for what he had said moments before, and it was doubtless the Argonian would let it go any time soon.

"If we don't bring them along, they'll report us to the city guard. As much as I'd hate to deal with them now, perhaps we can bring them along. At least until we can dispose of them later. Get rid of them now and there may be problems. If we take them along, we can get rid of them when they least expect it, or at least get away. Don't worry Alaudis. We shouldn't have to kill them unless it's absolutely necessary." proposed Servyn with a curious glance at Swims at the end. Arethan nodded his head in agreement, and even the good-natured Alaudis didn't erupt into some chastisemant about morality or ethics or any other subject to which the bitter Argonian objected.

"Yes, he's right. However I suggest we keep a close eye on them, for all we know they could have been hired by Serosi. Anyways before we set out, where exactly is it we are going and how do we plan on getting there?" replied Rithe.

Swims-in-Shadows returned Servyn's glance, still eerily expressionless.

"Why the hell are you looking at me? Who do you think I am? Your butcher? If you want these two dead at some point, you should get your own damn hands dirty. You're going to need to learn how to kill innocents eventually, and there's no time like the present." he said with obvious irritation. However, he finished calmly. "In any case, I don't think it will come to that. As soon as they find out what we're trying to do, they'll probably leave us anyway. And if not, we could use some extra help. I know the male is a sneaky one, and I'm sure the female has her own talents."

Swims actually grinned at the two young Bretons, who still probably couldn't understand the group because they were speaking Dunmeri. I wonder if I can break them of their innocence? This is going to be fun.

Suddenly, he turned towards Rithe in reply to his concerns.

"I'm fairly sure Serosi doesn't know that we're after him, and even if he did, this probably isn't how he'd respond. Although to be honest, if he did hire people to come after us, you're no less suspicious than these two. As for where we're going, don't even bother asking. You're never going to get a straight answer from Arethan." Swims wasn't afraid to talk about the Hand of Almalexia as if he weren't even there. If it alerted Arethan to his failings, excellent. If it didn't, the worst he would do was swear angrily, and Swims had stopped caring about Arethan's opinions long ago, if he'd ever cared at all.

"He just seems to know things, and he's never really screwed up yet. That makes him as qualified to lead as anyone, I guess, so I still follow."

Nayamdar

I wonder why so many intruders have invaded recently. No doubt it's connected to recent events, but how exactly I do not know. Or has my home simply become more well-known among would-be looters? Vorandaril thought about the recent influx of intruders. Before, it was much rarer for anyone to come there. Nayamdar was a relatively small ruin a good distance from any roads or settlements. Located just across the Cyrodiil-Hammerfell border, it lay approximately halfway between Hammerfell and Stoneguard, near the mountains that separated them. Very little remained aboveground, so unless someone stumbled upon it by accident or it's been charted on maps, it was unlikely that he would have visitors.

The lich turned his focus back onto his task at hand, as he approached the final living being in the ruin. It was a female breton, probably a mage, although he knew little else. Coming into view, he began to recite a spell. The woman looked at him and screamed, attempting to run towards the exit passage. Vorandaril finished his incantation and with it invoked a magical barrier blocking the way out. When she saw her exit was blocked, the Breton bolted towards a side corridor.

As the barrier on the exit dissipated, the lich floated towards the passage that the terrified mage had fled down. He stood there, watching the life signature of the woman reach a dead end. Moving closer, he heard the woman coughing. It became louder and more violent, the intruder clearly in pain and gasping for air, but unwilling to face the lich. As the sounds died down, Vorandaril floated into the chamber the woman had been herded into. Vents on the floor were emitting toxic gas from an unknown source, and in the corner of the room the woman lay, incapacitated by the gas.

Unaffected by the gas, a benefit of his undead state, Vorandaril approached the barely-living mage and placed his hand on her. With a weak invocation he absorbed the trace of life remaining within her. Like with the thief, this was an act of mercy. He drew some enjoyment from toying with his foes, but not from needlessly cruel executions. Telekinetically lifting the woman's body into the air, he headed back, corpse in tow.

After looting the corpses, he would dump them in the river. If anything remained to be discovered, there would be no evidence of how they died nor where they died.

Gilane, the Medusa's Gaze

Jo'khart's entertaining display and humor brought a large smile to Raspert's face, the rather large man's armored fist slammed into the counter breaking a few pints of ale.


"GUFAH HARGH HARG HARG!" his horse, rumbling and somewhat awkward laugh had caused the few patrons in the tavern to cringe with annoyance. None had been annoyed to the level where they would attempt to approach the intimidating warrior and demand he quit rejoicing. Perhaps they were simply polite folk. Not too shortly after the door to the tavern opened, his eyes traced from the small Dagi to those entering. One fit the description of who to expect, Marius, an ex-legionnare...and Kira, the [censored] had made it after all. Oh well...none of my business, as long as she keeps her nose out of trouble.


"Your Raspert I presume? I was told to find you."

Raspert spoke in Dune Yoku, the more common variant of his people. "Aye, Cyrodiil, I'm Raspert...and your Marius. And...Kira. What a pleasant surprise-" he coughed "scorpion woman" followed by another fit of false coughing.

He stared at the Imperial for a moment. who the hell does this pale skin think he is? He mocks us by wearing that armor...I'm surprised he makes it this far without being attacked by every patriotic thug in the city. Either dumb or looking for a fight that one.

Kira's eyes quirked, "What the hell did you call me Raspert?"

He looked up at her, eyes widened, "Nothing."

"You just called me Scorpion woman and covered it up in coughs."

She simply smirked and shook her head. Raspert returned the smile in kind. "Barkeep!" he waved over, "Get me and my friends some drinks."

He sat down into a table directly behind him, placing his hand axe on the table followed by a poorly drawn map of the local area. Cartographers in Gilane were subpar, they usually had to wait until someone from other cities or areas sailed into the local harbor with premade maps or a traveling cartographer sold his own.

"As you all know, we have lost three villages and seven caravans within the last three months, no idea who has been doing it but signs of bloodshed or struggle have not been found. Its as if everyone decided to leave. Some caravans were empty and looted without signs of battle, while others were found with all of there goods still in store. We imagine local bandits and nomads got lucky and found the caravans first." he took a swig from his frothy ale, a barmaid arrived at the table with a ale for everyone. Kira tossed the girl a few coppers and removed a cigar from her haversack, igniting it promptly.

"The most recent village to be attacked was Hawk's Eye. All villages and caravans have been here in the South East coast of Hammerfell. My coin would be placed on these villages forming a perimeter and the area we're looking for somewhere within the center of it all. Perhaps clues can be found within Hawk's Eye itself. Any questions, I've been sent here to assist and provide some official presence...but this is everyone's show." he said as the white mustache from his beer froth dripped to the table.

The Sunbird's Rest, Alinor

Elusmyr pulled back on the skooma pipe, smoke flooding his lungs. He exhaled as a short, well-dressed young elf entered the room. Coughing purposefully and loudly, the elf waved smoked away and approached Elusmyr.

"Alkaran is almost back from his incursion into Elswyr. The next operation is close. He says to clean yourself up and to prepare and rally what men you have here for the next incursion. I don't know the details, but I know it's going to be a long journey. And that is it going to be an important venture."

Elusmyr stared back at the messenger with pinprick pupils. He blinked, as if awakening from a daze. "Send Alkaran my regards, and tell him all will be ready for his arrival." Putting down his skooma pipe, he continued. "Now, youngling, I'd suggest you depart. You've been here for a few months now, it can't do for you to linger when there's work to be done."

After the messenger left, Elusmyr relaxed and sank back into his seat. He was a mess, his usual neat appearance given way to the apathetic scruffiness of an addict. Spare time had not done him well. He had been disappointed when Alkaran left for Elswyr without him, but he had done his best not to show it.

I should return home and see to my appearance... but I'll stay longer, I think. He thought before he drifted off to sleep.

Sentinel, War Room
Baibars Ayuub

The khan looked at the majestic map of Hammerfell carefully, observing as representations of Yokudan forces moved around at the High King's behest. Though this was not the first time he saw this map, it never ceased to amaze him; growing up in the wilderness had not made him a man easily impressed by every slightly greater structure, but this was a true masterpiece that one just couldn't not marvel at. The sheer detail of it all was incredible, made all the more so by the fact that many of the features of the Alik'r he recognized as things known only among nomads, or so he had thought. Apparently, no expense was spared in ensuring that Haroun had a mirror image of his homeland to plan his moves in the grand game on.

"Elden Yokeda," Baibars spoke up when general Fawx made his suggestion. Whether it was just a trick of the light or an intended feature of his mask, the amethyst slits that were the desert spirit's eyes seemed to glow slightly. "I must confess that I did not solely come to Sentinel for the festival. I also bring news from my people." He approached the table, his eyes fixed on the spot in the Alik'r where the majority of his tribe now resided, the ruins of an ancient temple by now nearly buried under the sand.

The silence in the hall slightly disturbed the khan, who was used to the louder and less formal (if buried neck-deep in tradition and ritual) war meetings of the Ayuubs. Perhaps it would've sounded better if he wasn't speaking Dune Yoku, but like with many things, Baibars refused to give it up just because he was now a Yokeda and the city-dwellers expected things of him. "I fear the Ayuubs cannot call an exile at this time." 'Exile' was the unusual way his tribe called full mobilisation during times of war when the entire tribe would move and all able men would become warriors, a throwback to how the nomads came into existence in the first place. "We have warred for a long time, yet it is not exhaustion that makes my people unable to march again."

"It is my own brother, Elden Yokeda." A heavy sigh came from under the mask. "He claims, and is far from alone in his belief, that I spit on tradition by fighting with city-dwellers." Of note was the use of the word 'with' instead of 'for'; even though he was more open-minded than most of his tribe and had a high position in the Imperial government, Baibars still prefered to think of himself as an ally of the High King's rather than a subject. Likewise, even the worst enemies of his among the Ayuubs wouldn't even think about suggesting their khan was serving Sentinel. "If I push him and the khans that follow him for another exile too hard, they will call it - but not in my name. And if our tribe splits, bloodshed will not be avoided."

Sentinel, War Room

The room remained silent although the feeling in the room was palpable. Excitement, fear, anger and annoyance at the sudden mentioning of the unrest. By those with resources, it had been known for some time...but for those who did not keep tabs on the Ayuubs, the sudden mention of unrest came as a shock. Especially that it was mentioned right before the Yokudan Empire would march off into war. Every Yokeda had internal politics, but Baibars' own threatened civil war amongst his people.

Haroun's gaze reached the amethyst stones of Baibars, a solemn expression on his face. One can only hope he will not hate me. Of all the nomadic tribes, the Ayuubs are the most set in their ways.

The Elden Yokeda turned his gaze from Baibars to the Ayuub holdings, to the Alik'r and their traditional territory.

"Yokeda of the Alik'r, I would not ask that you threaten your dominion, nor the future of your people. It has been brought to my attention previously of the unrest amongst your tribe. Unrest that has only grown to the point where your power has been threatened, as evidenced by your revelation. I would ask that what resources can be spared, man or otherwise, join our cause. Protect your people Baibars."

An enemy was made.

The Boar clenched his fist in anger, his mask hiding the look of contempt and ill will on his face as he watched the Elden Yokeda favor a 'friend'.

He asks he spares who he can...while he demands I use the bulk of my Army?!...That Forebear..sword headed Dog...

A quick eye noted the clenched fist, the man behind the Devil Mask grinned yet again.

"Do you see this problem ending in the future? Peaceably?" Haroun asked only to politely say what would be done without using those words, and only if needed. He did not wish to do what was unnecessary, the Yokedas were best left content and happy with their lives, if the Elden Yokeda ever asked too much from anyone man...the low morale would only encroach to the rest of the domain. Civil war had always been Hammerfell's weakness.

Sentinel, War Room
Baibars Ayuub

"I will send who I can, Elden Yokeda. Many tribes yet follow me, those that are not needed to prevent my brother from making a move shall go against the southern city-dwellers." Baibars' eyes slipped down the road from Gilane to Taneth. How many fathers and sons of the tribe would not return from this war? How many more would be angered by the losses and turn from him, not seeing the neccessity of these sacrifices for the survival of their families and their herds? Ayuubs tended to be incredibly short-sighted when it came to dealing with outsiders, so long as their wandering grounds were not threatened they believed everything was well in the world, or at least pretended to. That was what he faced, a challenge perhaps even greater than war against the infidels, one that of the people here, only the High King understood well.

How many do I need? How many can be spared is the better question... Only sons should go, and those without families. Fathers and their wisdom are needed at the gathering now; perhaps they can sway the wise men that neither I nor Shirkuh can, and perhaps he will listen to the words of those closer to the gods than him. If only for a while... Those without burden or attachment shall go to the east, then, against the Heartlanders; maybe I would not trust them first in the defence of our wandering grounds, but they are better suited for such a war, a distant war, than any others.

The High King's further question snapped the khan out of his thoughts of the forces he might deploy, forcing his eyes to dart from Taneth to Haroun and then back to the Alik'r again. He knew what was being asked, a question he was not looking forward to finding an answer to himself. The saying of our ancestors proves correct - city-dwellers never ask a question straight. It is always trickery in the shadows of their stone walls, but that is the price I pay for fighting for a dream... an illusion, perhaps? Only time and the gods can tell.

"This problem will have to be dealt with soon, one way or the other. The khan cannot allow such disrespect to continue and the warlord will not restrict himself to talks for much longer. This would, of course, be over without a man of Sutbu's blood to speak for those opposing me. Were my brother to stand down..." Baibars didn't finish the sentence. 'Stand down' was not the right word at all - he knew Shirkuh, and he knew he wouldn't back down now. His brother believed in what he now represented and the khan couldn't remember one time when he'd have sacrificed his beliefs for anything; that was his brother's weakness and his strength. An uncompromising, unbending will, some would say he was much more an Ayuub than Baibars...

The only way my enemies might become quiet once more is without Shirkuh to speak for them; and the only way Shirkuh will not speak is if he is disgraced... or dead. Gods forgive me for such thoughts. Looking at the half-collapsed dome of the temple on the map, Khan Ayuub could not help but wonder - at what point had he become so much like the city-dwellers he intended to shield his people from as much as necessary even if fighting alongside them? To consider killing his own brother, spilling his own blood... To an Ayuub it was akin to cutting off your hand, family was sacred - if you opposed them, you did with honour. Shadowy thoughts like these were more suited to the tall-walled cities of his settled kin, not the tents of his tribe.

Strange are the threads of fate.

Sentinel, War Room
Bomilkar Barca

The large door that led into the war room swung open, revealing the dusty and worn figure of Bomilkar Ameer Barca, Khan and Elden Yokeda, both titles he wore proudly. Shaking off the cold and dust from the Alki'r Bomilkar made his way across the war room, his walk was heavy and almost weary, though he refused to show it as his footsteps echoed through the room until he reached where Baibars and Haroun were standing. "High King." Bomilkar spoke, slightly muffled by his mask as he bowed before Haroun and then turned towards Baibars as he extended his had toward a man he had often considered more of a rival rather than a friend. "Great Khan" he spoke reverently, before turning towards the map. Before him lay the most impressive piece of strategic masterpiece he had ever layed eyes on, far more awe worthy than the crude drawings in the desert sands of the Alki'r he was used to drawing in preperation for tribal conflicts in the past; it even surpassed the intelligence he had seen in Valenwood.

"Great Khan Baibars, if I may speak freely.." Bomilkar removed his mask, revealing his weathered and scared face upon which his soul scouring eyes set upon. "You may need to remind your tribe who it is their khan is, and why." His voice was stern, if not criticle of Baibars. "In my tribe, those who are strong enough to rule, do so. A weak Khan makes a weak tribe."

Rihad

Crixus signed the piece of paper without hesitation. "I want them delivered to me..their not to be harmed or spoiled in any way, I take that it should not be a problem?" his eyes continued to lock onto Lysandra's. "Now, for my half of the deal...what can I offer you in return for your 'services'.

Wilderness north-east of Rihad

Sooner or later I'll need to find a more permanent solution to this. I refuse to let these bodies lie rotting in my lair, but if anyone were to catch on to the fact that bodies are being dumped, someone will investigate. Even before becoming a lich, Vorandaril had pondered the effects of death on others. Did bandits and renegade mages have loved ones that would someday learn that they're never coming back? Or would such cutthroats already be dead to them?

It was fortunate that Ayleid ruins were notorious for how dangerous they could be; even with nobody hiding out there, many were haunted by their former inhabitants and their traps still worked. This meant that if a few people were known to have disappeared in an Ayleid ruin, nobody would find it suspicious. This worked to Vorandaril's advantage; his makeshift armor of leather and tarnished Ayleid armor plating, coupled with his undead state, meant that all who saw him in the ruin assumed him to be an Ayleid, forever bound to wander the halls of the ruin. This would either land Nayamdar being flagged by the locals as certain death, or bring the Knights of the Nine to his door.

Vorandaril reached the river. Placing the corpses on the shore, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, think things over. This scenario made him think of Miscarcand, probably the most dangerous Ayleid ruin in the world. Said to hold a Great Welkynd Stone, as far as he had known, nobody had ever successfully taken it. Survivors claimed that the last king of Miscarcand himself protected the stone. Even with all he had learned, all the power that he had, Vorandaril would be reluctant to step into such a place, and tempt the wrath of a far older lich. Perhaps he could gain a similar reputation; a lich who kills those who attempt to make off with his treasures, yet poses no danger as long as he is left alone. He certainly never heard of the Imperial Legion, the Fighters Guild, or even the original Knights of the Nine attempting to raid Miscarcand to kill its undead king.

Utilizing his telekinesis, he picked the corpses up, all at once, brought them to the center of the river, presumably where the current would be, and dropped them. They quickly were caught by the current and were sent down river. Gaining the reputation as a notorious lich was potentially useful, but he was not yet ready. There was much to do and much to learn in the meantime.

Cyrus, War Room, Sentinel

Yokeda and Generals from all across the empire were assembled in the grand war room inside the Royal Palace. The room itself was marvelous, but the large map that sat in the center of the room was grander. It depicted the entire province of Hammerfell in perfect detail, every nook and cranny present in the empire was on the map. It would have take a multitude of extremely skilled cartographers to create such a work of art.

The Generals and Yokeda discussed strategies as Cyrus sat idle. He knew his place among this council, he had only just recently been granted the rank of General of Stros M'Kai; he would wait his turn. Baibars Great Khan of the Ayuub spoke to the High King about his people being split, it troubled Cyrus to hear this. A civil war is not the thing we need now. He thought as he watched the two talk about the situation. However before they could finish the Elden Yokeda and Great Khan of the Barca, Bomilkar, entered the room, he greeted Baibars and Haroun and then spoke once again to Baibars,

"Great Khan Baibars, if I may speak freely, you may need to remind your tribe who it is their khan is, and why. In my tribe, those who are strong enough to rule, do so. A weak Khan makes a weak tribe." His voice was stern and harsh as he spoke.

Cyrus then spoke, seeing a break in the conversation. He turned towards Haroun,

"Your Highness, the Shi no Butai are ready for deployment." Cyrus maneuvered around the table so that he could get a clear view of the coast from Taneth to Rihad, as he spoke he traced the path that they would take, "With your permission I wish to send them towards the coast between Taneth and Rihad to sabotage the smaller outposts of the Confederation." Cyrus pointed towards a few spots along the coast line,

"Not only would it disable their scouting outposts and make it harder for them to notice our Navy, should it choose to enter the bay, but I also think that given the Shi no Butai's reputation it would intimidate the local forces that have allied with the Knights of the Nine."

OOC: This post svcks. Let's get a move-on.

Arethan, Rihad

"Anyways before we set out, where exactly is it we are going and how do we plan on getting there?"

Arethan glanced over at the assassin, who had just questioned him.

"To Taneth. We'll take a ship from the port. A transport."

He stopped his footsteps, glancing back at Servyn, who looked at him oddly. Arethan now seemed less moody and more calm and contained than he had in the previous moments. He took a stare towards his fellow Dunmer, then towards the assassin again.

"Serosi is there, Servyn. The stone..."

Servyn glanced down at Arethan's bag, then nodded slowly. He looked over at the lizard beside him, as well as the young Alaudis.

"Come on. The sooner this is over with, the sooner you're rewarded. And as for you, Bretons..."

Servyn's brow pierced through the air, handing the siblings before him a stern look.

"...Try not to get us killed. You say the wrong thing to the wrong people, and you're dead."

The group proceeded out the door, taking their path to the docks. Before long, the group had come across three figures, obstructing their path on the docks. Arethan would have quickly moved along, paying no special attention, until he was close enough to hear them speak.

"Yeah, Camille'll probably allow you guys to hitch a ride on The Lady. Especially if I put in a good word for you." A Redguard said, who looked much like a pirate. The Dunmer was old and experienced, and after decades of traveling the sea, he could do a decent job at picking out pirates from the regulars.

Hell...I could even smell the difference...damn docks...these bastards smell like damn fish. Damned fish!

Arethan stopped in disgust, shooting the group a crude glare. Servyn stopped, motioning for the others in the group to also come to a halt. The young Dunmer gave the Raga a nod, interrupting the group from their conversation. His accent was every bit Cyrodillic, with even some Dunmeri influence. One could tell he was a being not of the country, a foreigner. Servyn tried his best to sound formal and polite as possible, though the Dunmeri was usually fixed in a different manner.

"Hello there, Redguard. A pirate I presume?"

Servyn let off a slick smirk, carefully observing the man's appearance.

"Do you think you could provide us passage to Taneth? There's an amount of coin in it for you if it's done in haste. I'm sure your pirate ship could carry itself much faster than any of these half assed merchant cogs."

And may they be damned, Servyn thought, that if these bastard pirates dare attempt something, I should burn their captain into his own mast...her...that's right. It must be a woman.

Rihad Docks
First Mate Jacob

Shavaash and Kraven both got up and prepared to leave, with Shavaash making a comment about Hammerfell’s heat. Jacob laughed and said in reply, “Ain’t that the truth.”

Then Kraven got up and said"Let us depart from the docks then." Kraven spoke "Lead us to the bar." He paused and looked over at Jacob. "A woman leads you?"

Jacob laughed again and replied, “Yeah. But she’s the toughest woman I’ve ever seen, so she deserves her title. Plus, she’s been with some of the people on The Lady for well over a decade, so she’s garnered a lot of respect -"

Jacob cut himself off when a fairly large group – consisting of several Dunmer, a couple Bretons, and an Argonian – walked up to them and stopped. Jacob noticed one of the Dunmer glaring at him, and he returned the gaze for a moment, sizing the Dunmer up. He didn’t appear to be too old, but Jacob knew that with Dunmer, appearances could be deceiving. This guy could be older than my grandparents, for all I know, Jacob thought, before his attention shifted to a second Dunmer.

This Dunmer looked younger than the first, but, once again, Jacob suspected he was older than he actually appeared. He nodded at Jacob and said – in an almost perfect Cyrodiilic accent – “Hello there, Redguard. A pirate I presume?" The Dunmer smirked as he looked at Jacob, while Jacob could only think, Really? How is my profession so obvious to everyone? Maybe it’s the cutlass . . . The Dunmer then added, "Do you think you could provide us passage to Taneth? There's an amount of coin in it for you if it's done in haste. I'm sure your pirate ship could carry itself much faster than any of these half assed merchant cogs."

Jacob replied, “Well, the ship I serve on is the fastest ship in this part of Tamriel. Hell, maybe all of Tamriel. So it’ll get you where you want to go quickly. And, as for payment for passage, that’s not really my decision to make. I can make a suggestion to my Captain, but it’ll be up to her to decide. I was actually taking these two -” he motioned to Kraven and Shavaash, “- to go meet with her right now. You guys can tag along and talk to her yourselves if you wish.”

Gilane
Marius Lepidus

The ex-centurion returned Raspert's stare with a hard look he had honed over the years serving as a centurion; you needed that 'don't screw with me' glint in your eye sometimes to make recruits fall in line and even more so to be respected by the veterans. It came in handy on many occasions during his stay in Hammerfell, especially considering his choice of armour (Marius' reasoning was that any local armour he could afford was too crap to keep him alive). Thankfully, the bearded Redguard didn't press the issue, moving on to business.

He didn't listen too attentively to the explanation of the situation; he was familiar enough with it and probably had more firsthand experience than Raspert himself. When the ale arrived, the Colovian looked at it without bothering to hide his disdain, mumbling something in Colovian that sounded suspiciously like 'watered down piss'. Nevertheless, he took a gulp, waiting for their large supervisor (that's what Raspert was probably there for, to make sure they didn't get lost or do anything too out of line) to finish; at first frowning, Marius than ran a hand through his beard and finally sighed resignedly. It's better than nothing, but Tiber's ass do I miss proper drinks. Did they destroy all the real booze during the rebellion or did no one bother to bring anything good here in the first place..?

"Alright," Taking another swig, Marius hesitated for a bit about the choice of language before deciding to go with Yoku. They were in Hammerfell after all, it seemed likely that if the other two had gotten this far they spoke the local tongue at least to some degree. "I guess stopping by Hawk's Eye is as good a place as any to start. If it's a recent hit, maybe there's still something there that hasn't yet been disturbed by every government investigator and his mother. And if we find nothing there - and that's the most likely outcome, because I'm a maid of Mara if whoever's behind this left any clues when I last looked at their handiwork - then we either comb the desert between those spots, hoping to stumble onto something or be abducted ourselves, or we could try to hit some of the bandits around those parts, see if they know anything; they've got better eyes and someone is bound to want to talk instead of dying a messy death."


Sentinel, War Room
Baibars Ayuub

Baibars shook Bomilkar's hand firmly. "Khan Barca." There was a man he could respect, even if the past between their tribes meant they were not truly friends - old wrongs still lingered even as the nomads fought for a common cause. The words that the Barca khan spoke did not surprise him much; it was to be expected that the short-tempered and firm man would suggest such a sollution to the problem the Ayuubs faced at present, even if his abrupt arrival to the war council was unexpected.

The Ayuub khan removed the mask from his face before speaking. Words traded between nomads were not to be hidden behind city-dweller masks. "If that is how you would act, then perhaps your tribe loves war more than mine." He sighed before continuing, his eyes wearily turning from the map to Bomilkar. "The problem is not that my khans forget their oaths that bind them and have done so for ages, it is that in me they now see not only a khan, but also a Yokeda of the city-dwellers. Tradition is sacred and the khan is bound to it just as his khans are bound to him. Some already think I broke my oath by aiding the Elden Yokeda and accepting rank from city-dwellers, if I draw my sword first and shed the blood of my own brother or those who speak with him, then I will have lost."

"Examples like those you made of the iron men or that you make of tribes that serve the Heartlander devils will not solve a problem that goes deeper than simple disagreement over policy, Khan of the Barca Khans." Baibars knew this to be true; in disputes, the one who resorted to violence was the one who lost and disgraced himself, for he admitted his opponent was correct by running out of arguments yet lacked the wisdom to acknowledge that. Duels between champions were used to solve only the worst of conflicts, and even then only between families or tribes - never in a family matter. And though the consequences were much further reaching than those of what one would commonly associate with a conflict within a family, this was precisely that - a family matter.

His people's attachment to their traditions was a mixed blessing. They would fight to the death to defend them, yet the Ayuubs would also tear themselves apart if forced to open to the rest of the world.

Rithe, Rihad

Arethan glanced at Rithe as he spoke,

"To Taneth. We'll take a ship from the port. A transport."

Arethan stopped and looked back at his Dunmer companion and then back at Rithe,

"Serosi is there, Servyn. The stone..."

Servyn glanced down at the bag that hung from Arethan's waist then over to his other companions.

"Come on. The sooner this is over with, the sooner you're rewarded. And as for you, Bretons......Try not to get us killed. You say the wrong thing to the wrong people, and you're dead."

As the group started to leaver the house Rithe's form once again faded into a wispy dark smoke, he was used to moving around unseen, he actually preferred it over walking around in plain sight. They walked through the almost abandoned streets of Rihad until they began to enter the harbor area. There standing in front of the group were three individuals, a Redgaurd, an Imperial, and a Khajiit. Rithe's superb hearing picked up on their conversation as they approached, Arethan also heard it from the way he changed his path.

"Yeah, Camille'll probably allow you guys to hitch a ride on The Lady. Especially if I put in a good word for you." Said the Redguard, Rithe could tell that he was a pirate, mostly from the smell, but also because of the way he spoke of his captain and the fact that he was armed.

Arethan stopped the group as he nodded to Servyn who continued on to speak.

"Hello there, Redguard. A pirate I presume? Do you think you could provide us passage to Taneth? There's an amount of coin in it for you if it's done in haste. I'm sure your pirate ship could carry itself much faster than any of these half assed merchant cogs."

The Redguard looked a bit surprised but replied,

“Well, the ship I serve on is the fastest ship in this part of Tamriel. Hell, maybe all of Tamriel. So it’ll get you where you want to go quickly. And, as for payment for passage, that’s not really my decision to make. I can make a suggestion to my Captain, but it’ll be up to her to decide. I was actually taking these two -” he motioned to his two companions, “- to go meet with her right now. You guys can tag along and talk to her yourselves if you wish.”

Rithe began to take form again as he stepped forward near Arethan, however not too close as to make sure he didn't surprise him by accident. He spoke to the Redguard, his voice was stern,

"We will go, but make it quick. We cannot afford to waste anymore time."

Athanden, North of Rihad

Athanden scoffed as the Knight rode away. Is Hammerfellian money worth more or are the Knights just cheap? Thought Athanden as he road back towards the line.

"Aryn, tell the men to unload a few supplies as well as the tents. We make camp here tonight, it will do the men some good to be on solid ground for a while."

Aryn nodded as he rode off and began barking orders to the troops who started to break rank and prepare to set up camp.

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Rihad, Early Afternoon

Magnus beat down upon them as the hooves of their horses kicked the dry dust into the air. Athanden and six of his battlemages rode down the dusty road towards the grand city of Rihad. The streets were packed with people from all walks of life, nobles and their attendants, mere peasants, and the occasional criminal looking individual. They all parted in front of the group as they rode into the city and then across the long bridge to the keep. The dismounted their horses and tied them up in the courtyard of the stone fortress. Athanden motioned for two of the battlemages to watch the horses as he and the other four opened the large wooden doors and proceeded into the keep. They retraced their steps to the meeting room they had been seated in the day before. It was empty, neither Belisarius nor Stanet had arrived yet.

Hmph, they tell me to arrive in the afternoon and when I do they are nowhere in sight. Athanden took a seat in the chair on the far end of the table at the back of the room so that he faced towards the door. His four guards took positions behind him.

Those incompetent fools better get here soon.

Ruhk Ahkbar, Sentinel War Room

"Elden Yokeda, Cyrus, and the Khans, if I may interrupt your conversations for an urgent matter at hand."

Ruhk took a glance over at his cousin, every bit of of the darkness and war that was to come reflecting deeply from the young Raga's own eyes. Though the map set before him did not cease to leave him breathless, the certain thoughts of death stood there, struck deeply into his heart, as he could once more, in his own mind, see the blood which once stained his skin. He had been thrown into war at such a young age. Though he had still found enjoyment in his life, the subject of war brought up to any veteran of the past war would leave him with only memories of terror and hate among the land of the Redguards.

"War now sits on our doorstep, as the knights make their hold in the cities of Rihad, Taneth, and Roseguard. The foreigners bring the magick of the east with them, no doubt they will use it against us. They are nothing but dishonorable thieves, practicing the disdainful, which we do not participate, lest we lose our very honor."

Ruhk paused, shooting a glance over at Bomilkar, eyes deeply staring into the khans as he spoke his next wave of words.

"The Altmer have sent letter, offering their services in this war for an exchange of coin. Two hundred battlemages have been offered to us at a price. While they practice such a dishonor in magic, I believe that if they are to fight with us, it may help to end this war faster and with less casualties of our own people."

Ruhk stopped, remembering the cold images of the dead among the battlefield, his Raga brothers of Stros M'kai itself, falling down to rest beside him in the heat of battle. Other thoughts crossed his mine, as he remembered the slaughtered inhabitants of Chasetown, and the crucified Imperials at the hands of Bomilkar Barca.

So many people had to die...Dead...All of them.

Ruhk's eyes seemed to haze back up, again meeting Haroun's. He took a deep breath, continuing.

"All of you remember the War of the Wolves, the slaughtered men and women of Chasetown, the countless thousands of soldiers who were killed at the hands of the enemy. Perhaps, if we hire the foreign infidels, it will prevent a further wake of destruction from befalling our own people, and less men will have to die for this cause. May the foreigners be paid to die instead, rather than to see my own brother fall at the hands of infidels!"

The Imperial and the khajiit stood by with caution as they saw the group of several Dunmer and a mixture of other members of the other race. A young Dunmer approached Jacob, asking to hitch a ride to Tithe. He carried an ebony longsword that caught Kraven's attention. He was accompanied by individuals of which Kraven would label as mercenaries. Shavaash heard the conversation unfold and he noticed a bit of demanding from the Dunmer's voice. In his own language, Shavaash looked at the Imperial and swore in his native dialect. "Dunmer trash. Always thinking themselves above others. Their time will come soon enough."

Kraven did not respond, only to avoid confrontation at that moment. He did not trust Dark elves, he never did in his life. He folded his arms at his chest as Jacob agreed to take the new passengers to the Lucky Lady. Kraven scratched his chin as he began walking. Perhaps there is something greater happening in Hammerfell that I am not aware of?

Shavaash kept his eyes fixed on the Argonian and the Bretons. He studied them with a cold callous gaze that never ceased. He thought about the situation. He didn't trust pirates, never did ever since Kraven and him and a few other slaves wanted passage out of Khuul back in Morrowind. The scum took their drakes and left them for Imperial forces to take care of them. If Jacob's pirate crew tried something stupid, this band of individuals might prove to be challenging. Shavaash wasn't counting on dishonesty from the redguard's part. It was safe to bet that they would get a free passage to Taneth. But out of all the passengers, the leader had to be a Dunmer. Do the gods curse Shavaash? he thought. He needed some rest to clear his mind and perhaps a woman or two. He briefly exchanged glances with Kraven. He realized both had an uneasy thought about this.

Rihad Temple
Lysandra

"Of course, they will be untouched upon reaching you." Lysandra nodded slowly. A bit of a shame. I could've used the warmup... but then children squeal too fast. There'll be much time for better exercises later, this isn't just a simple operation about some soldier. The light blue of her eyes was quite cold as she gazed into Crixus', perhaps reminiscent of ice, or rather a frostbolt - they were too vibrant for simple ice. She quickly glanced at the paper the author had just signed, before nodding again and signing it herself, then standing up.

"I will only take a moment, mister Nakute." The battlemage made a small bow as she left the room, leaving the doors open behind her. With a hurried step, she left the corridor where the doors to her quarters were and entered the main hall of the temple, quickly making out Aman in the mess of hurrying servants, laymen and squires, with small groups of knights and paralictors standing besides the walls, an occasional lictor among them. The Colovian noticed her as fast as Lysandra noticed him, quickly making his way to her after she gestured him to come over.

"Yes, milady?"

Lysandra handed him the form. "Ensure that the man specified is taken here, along with his wife and two daughers. He's a conscript in the Rihadese militia, it shouldn't be a problem to get him unless the heathens want their own names in forms. I trust they'll remember as much."

With a nod and a bow, Aman hurried off, somewhat curious. So soon? I wasn't expecting the Paralictor to start these... operations without a proper group first. Must have something to do with that Redguard, Abu Nakute or whatever he was. I wonder what she's up to, talking with the heathens. By the time he exited the temple, Lysandra had already returned to her quarters and sat down in front of Crixus.

"It will not be long now, mister Nakute." She smiled, leaning forward slightly. "I've ordered your requested people here, you can wait for them or I can have them redirected wherever you would want them... Mister Montblanc's estate, perhaps, I believe that is where you are staying currently? Now, for your half of this transaction." This was the part that interested her; she couldn't care less about what Crixus did with the man and his family. "While monetary compensation would come to mind first, these are peoples' lives we deal with after all." The smile seemed to turn into a smirk for a brief moment before disappearing altogether.

"I believe you mentioned information. Of what kind? I do not, of course, expect you to give me detailed accounts of Yokudan troop movement or grand strategy; firstly we are not generals, and secondly I could not ask of you to betray your country over a favour. But do not think of me solely as a member of the order as you think about this; you said at the beginning of our conversation to imagine we were old friends, so consider this repaying a favour from an old friend with a favour of your own. Perhaps there are people with connections, the kind that will survive this war no matter how it ends, the kind that also have darker stains they might not wish people to know. Or perhaps there is something else, whatever useful you might offer, mister Nakute."

Rihad Docks
First Mate Jacob

A third Dunmer appeared seemingly out of mid air next to the first and said, "We will go, but make it quick. We cannot afford to waste anymore time."

Jacob looked at the Dunmer or a second. He possessed a nasty scar on his face and a tattoo of a hand as well; he looked like he was wearing assassin armor, and overall looked like bad news. Jacob held his gaze for a moment longer before saying, “Sure. Just follow me.” Jacob headed out, away from the docks, and walked for a couple minutes when he saw a head of blonde hair that could only belong to his Captain.

“There she is,” he said to the people following him before yelling out, “Camille!”

Captain Camille Leon

Camille was the last of the crew to leave the bar, as she had sent everyone else out to find the remaining crewmates and head back to the ship. She had stayed behind and finished her drink, before heading out for The Lady on her. She had only been walking a couple minutes when she heard the deep voice of her First Mate yell, “Camille!”

Camille turned around to find Jacob walking towards her with a large group of assorted individuals in tow. “Hey Jacob,” she said as he stopped in front of her. She looked quizzically at the group standing behind Jacob – a Khajiit, some Dunmer, some Bretons, an Imperial, and an Argonian - and said, “Who’re your friends, Jacob?”

Jacob chuckle and replied, “Some people that are seeking passage to Taneth.” He motioned to the Khajiit and Imperial and continued, “These two I can vouch for.” He indicated the remaining people. “And these people are willing to pay for a quick journey to Taneth.”

Camille looked the assorted people up and down, sizing them up. “All right, then. Go ahead and take the ones who can vouch for to the ship. Make them feel at home. Oh, and tell the crew to get the ship ready to go at any moment. If anyone’s too hungover to work, slap them back into shape.” Jacob nodded and motioned for the Imperial and Khajiit to follow him, and led them off in the direction of the ship. Camille watched them go, then turned her attention to the other group of people. “So,” she said, motioning for them to walk with her. “You guys are willing to pay for passage? Just how much are we talking?”

Camille turned a corner and continued, “Actually, we can discuss payment upon arrival.” Camille turned another corner and saw her ship. She spread her arms wide and motioned to the large galleon. “And here we are. The Lusty Lady, finest ship in Tamriel.” She led the group onto the ship and below deck, into a room that had several extra beds that weren’t currently being occupied. “You guys can bunk here during the journey. We’ll probably head out within the day. Like I said before, we can decide how exactly you’ll pay us when we get to Taneth. You can walk around and talk to the crew, just don’t cause any trouble. Okay?”

Kraven Desselius & Shavaash Opress, Rihad.


Kraven Desselius marveled at the sight of the captain named Camille. He stared for a brief four seconds before turning away. He was captivated by her beauty. She was in perfect physical shape. She also has long blond hair that fell well past her shoulders, which was in curls and a pony tail. But what held his tongue was the golden-brown eyes and white stainless teeth. All these physical traits reminded Kraven of his lover who lives back in Valenwood, with the exception of her skin. How he had missed her. It would be many weeks since he had seen her. Many weeks indeed. After all this trouble in Hammerfell, he was certain he would return home and embrace her.

Shavaash studied the pirate captain, not her general appearance, but the weapons she carried with her. Many assorted knives and a cutlass with some depictions that one would expect to have come from a worshiper of Sanguine. He could tell that if the captain carried such things, than her crew mates must be indeed a special manner of adventurous. He did seem to recall Jacob mentioning them squandering everything in revelry. He looked over at the group as Camille kept them for conversation while commanding Jacob to lead him and Kraven into the ship. He briefly looked back to the Dunmer who wanted passage out of Rihad. A curious bunch. He had his hand tightly upon his scimitar as he followed Jacob.



****

Ashanta, Sentinel Meeting War Room.

Ashanta listened carefully while in the War Council's Room. Eyes fixed on her task, ears listening attentively to the conversation of war, violence and death. Her task was to be a simple maiden and that is what Ashanta did. But there was more to her than met the eyes of many. She was skilled if not blessed in the skills of subterfuge and espionage. Her eyes registered the map for quick moment, memorizing some of the content within the grand table. Centuries worth of information right in front of her naked eyes. She turned away and served drink to a nearby general who's face was concealed behind a mask. Ashanta carried out her work, but she remained listening to Haroun's instructions to his men. As he did, one word continuously rang in her head over and over again; Infidel, infidel, infidel. The very words my father titled me when I confessed my love for an Imperial man, Ashanta thought. Her father was a devout Yokudan, he strictly believed in the customs and the tradition of the people. And now his entire generation was soiled after the affair she had with a man from Cyrodiil. As the conversation unraveled with talks of battles and locations to place the soldiers, Ashanta took notice of a boar-masked man who began clenching his fist after a brief moment of disagreement. She realized that civil unrest was inevitable in every great organization. So she had been told before. She stood by the general as a man entered the door. He eyes briefly shifted to her direction of the room. He was known as Bomilkar. He removed his mask to reveal a withered and marked face. She listened to their words while silently serving the drink to some of the generals. Most, if not, every man here wore a mask. In a way, Ashanta was wearing a mask of her own.

Belisarius and Justin, Outside Rihad

"The don't follow directions very well do they?" asked Justin. They watched from a small hill in the outlying villages as Athanden and his men moved into the city around noon, the appointed meeting time. He looked over his shoulder to where Vhosek stood down in a small valley around the foothills northeast of the city where his men were waiting patiently and refreshed from their good sleep and relaxed march.

"Want me to recall back yet?" asked Dalvus, standing next to his Captain with his arms crossed.

"No, we wait for the Knight at the main gates as he said. When we see him coming up the street, I'll have you recall then to have Vhosek march our troops up."

Dalvus nodded as the group looked in anticipation at each other, especially at how Justin would hopefully confuse the Dunmer, and everyone else, when he showed up politely as opposed to his brother yesterday. The three of them led the small group down through the outlying farms, riding easily ahead of a half-dozen men on foot, all outfitted in their war-gear despite the mid-day heat bearing down on them. The men marched two abriast in three rows, and Justin laughed as the right hand man in the second row winked at him with his one eye. His twin did so enjoy his disguises so he could witness the fun as he wore a helmet that covered most of his face which was covered in a light, but deceptive layer of dirt. His rough boots had concealed pieces of wood on the soles, giving him at least three inches and his left eye was covered by a rough looking leather patch.

"Do we still plan on asking for mounts?" asked Prax, who rode next to Justin confidently. "That's quite a favor to ask of them, as these knights probably value extra mounts highly."

Justin shrugged. "If we have to buy them from a merchant here, there is nothing we can do about it." They reached the gate not long after, and pulled up just off the main road to the left side of the entrance. "I suppose we wait now. I do hope my brother heard correctly when he said we were to meet this Stanet outside the main gates." he muttered to Praxedes as they waited silently in the afternoon heat.



Arnand and Jo'Khart, Medusas Gaze

Arnand jumped slightly at Rasperts loud laugh but said nothing though he did chuckle along with the man. Thankfully there was no chance for any awkward silences as their attention was drawn to the arrival of what Arnand assumed was the rest of their group. He was somewhat surprised to see a man walking so comfortably in Imperial armor but he hardly let it show as he shifted his chair over to make room for his new comrades. He did eye the woman however, trying to get a measure of how much of a "scorpion woman" she really was. His mind raced with the possibilities of a woman of her obvious manner but he pushed them aside in light of the business at hand,

Jo'Khart stood just off to the side, still on the table as the Raspert got down to business. Arnand took a healthy swig of his drink as he listened to Raspert explain the situation, and Jo'Khart studied the map. As the man finished, both Arnand and his Dagi friend were lost in thought as they stared at the map, as well as Arnand being somewhat hindered by the language barrier.

Marius made a move to talk and Jo'Khart leaned in to his friend and quickly translated it in clear Cyrodiilic, which was Arnands language of choice. As he did this, Jo'Khart was shaking his small head at the man's suggestion.

"Neither of those sound desirable in my opinion. Wandering around the desert is not something I see as either pleasurable or fruitful, and any information we hope to gain from bandits will cost us more than a little gold. I agree that Hawks Eye is a fine place to begin our investigation however." he said, nodding to Marius in agreement with the man's suggestion.

Rihad Keep, Early Afternoon

The Knight Commander walked through the halls of Rihad's keep, his Orcish steel boots making his presence obvious to those in the immediate area, even if they couldn't see him. Next to him was the Lictor Quintus Aventurnus, also in full armor. Their movements were fluid and had an odd sort of grace even in their heavy armor. Servants and guards hastily saluted the duo as they passed, afraid to incur the displeasure of two of the highest-ranking officers of the Order of Eight and One in Rihad.

"With any luck, Athanden will already be in the meeting room. I'm not in the mood to wait for some mercenary when there's business at hand." said Terentius to his subordinate.

"I don't think it will be a problem, Sir Terentius. If he's half as good at showing up on time as he is at naval landings, he's probably waiting for us." replied Aventurnus.

"Was it really that impressive? You've had nothing but good things to say about their test."

"It all went quite well, even according to the specialist on naval landings that I brought. The only real problem I had was the price. But then again, that's why we're meeting them again to negotiate, isn't it?"

"Oh?" asked Stanet, intrigued. Aventurnus hadn't mentioned this detail earlier. "What did he want to charge us for the services?"

"150 silver pieces per soldier for every four months, with a bonus on completion of their services. Typical Dunmer arrogance." said the Lictor as the two approached the wooden double doors to the meeting room.

Damn, that's a lot, thought Terentius. That price would have to come down. Quintus grabbed the handle of one of the doors and pulled it open, holding it for the Knight Commander. Terentius entered the room for the second time in two days, albeit much less ostentatiously than he had for the Yokudan delegation. Then again, his goal wasn't to provoke anyone this time, so he could afford to be less obnoxious. He approached the sturdy wooden chair he had sat in the previous day, since no amount of padding could make a chair comfortable to someone in full armor. Aventurnus followed Stanet in and took his own seat. Athanden and four of his men were already waiting in the room. Good. Let's get this started.

"Athanden, my subordinate here says that your test went exceedingly well. As such, the Order of Eight and One would like to hire you and your soldiers to fight against the Yokudans. However, he also says that you want 150 silver pieces for each man every four months, which I'm not quite willing to pay, considering the number of soldiers you have. How does 120 silver pieces per man every four months sound to you?"

Athanden, Rihad Keep

Roughly ten minutes later the doors of the meeting room opened to reveal Stanet and the Knight that had observed his landing the night before. About damn time. Thought Athanden as the Knight Commander and his companion took their seats at the opposite end of the table.

"Athanden, my subordinate here says that your test went exceedingly well. As such, the Order of Eight and One would like to hire you and your soldiers to fight against the Yokudans. However, he also says that you want 150 silver pieces for each man every four months, which I'm not quite willing to pay, considering the number of soldiers you have. How does 120 silver pieces per man every four months sound to you?"

Athanden leaned forward placing his elbows on the table, his polished ebony armor clinking ever so lightly. He paused for a moment before he spoke in a calm voice, however it was still gravelly and aggressive sounding due to his heritage,

"I am glad that you find need of my services. However the price of 150 silvers was a necessary one, you see my soldiers are professionals, the majority having fought in the war against the Daedra. If you have not noticed they are comprised of many of Tamriel's finest warriors, Nordic heavy troops, Dunmer battlemages, Imperial infantry, and even then legendary Bretic cavalry. To keep such a force at it's highest potential requires money, the men need good weapons and armor as well as food."

Athanden leaned back and relaxed in the chair,

"They must be kept happy and in good condition, an upset soldier is an ineffective one. However I see that your Order has already spent enough on this campaign, therefore I offer the price of 130 silvers without the cost of supplies."

Athanden shifted in his seat so that he was more comfortable.

"We need food, clean water, hay, oats if you can spare, medical supplies, and a few barrels of lamp oil."

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OOC: Crappy post just to stay kept up

Rithe, Rihad

Rithe followed the pirate into Rihad until they met a rather fine looking woman, had she been wearing different attire no one would have suspected her as a pirate. The group then followed her to a ship that had been docked in the harbor. It was nice, for a pirate ship that is. She led the group below deck to a spare room with beds, saying that they could stay here for the trip and that they should set out by morning. Rithe took the bed in the back corner, where it was darkest.

Rithe sat on the bed, it creaked slightly as mattress sunk down into the frame, he reached under his cloak and produced a cerulean blue stone that had a faint glow. Rithe rolled it back and forth in his hands as he stared into it. It hummed slightly, and then memories flooded his mind and the humming turned to ear splitting screams. Death after death he witnessed, the victims screaming in pain as their life was taken from them. Their eyes showed terror, pure terror as they took their last breaths.

Rithe looked away, closing his hands over the stone and placing it back under his cloak. His head throbbed with pain as he looked down at his gloved hands, these hands caused all of this. However Rithe soon broke out of his trance, he rubbed his face and sighed. Damn her. He thought to himself as his migraine began to subside. He knew this was all Mephala's doing, he had no trouble taking lives for the tong, he did it at routinely. However every man, mer or beast that Mephala had ordered him to kill now haunted his every thought. She forced him to keep their spirits from resting peacefully, they were her enemies, and he was their punishment, he was her slave.

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Cyrus, Sentinel, War Room

Cyrus listened as Ruhk stated his idea about hiring Altmer Mercenaries. Cyrus did not like eastern magick at all, however he saw the use in having it in battle. Cyrus turned towards Haroun,

"You Highness, I disapprove greatly of eastern magick. However your cousin has a valid point, the blood of our people has been spilled too many times. The Knights have an advantage, they will use their wicked sorcery against us. I say fight fire with fire, the Knights will not expect to encounter any kind of magick."

War Room
Bomilkar

"Then they should be reminded of a time before this schizem that separates our two people, a time when being a Forbear meant that you were a protector of your people, the vanguard against the infidel and the watchdog of peace, and not a political alignment." his words were chosen carefuly and spoken in a calm and collected tone, one which could not be taken as criticism, but mere at advice. Bomilkar knew not all believe as he did, no matter how much he wished it so. Traditions amongst his people ran just as deep as it did in the Ayuub, but his family had always carried with them the notion that they had a purpose greater than nomad and settled folk, even if though they often came into conflict. Until now there was little reason to act like a champion of the people, the Empire of the Crowns had fallen years ago and the settled Forbears had sold themselves to the Empire of the Septims, and now to the Knights of the Nine, the nomadic life was like an exile from all things foreign, the last vein hope of keeping the old ways alive and pure. Things had changed now, and there was little place in this new world for men who clung to the dieing vassalage of an age of division and factionalism.

Bomilkar now turned to the Ruhk and then to the High King and concurred with Ruhk. "The Knights of the Nine are likely to have many of these witch's amoungst their ranks..better we use the foreigners to kill each other than waste Ra'ga life attempting to face their blasphemy."




Rihad Temple
Lysandra and Crixus

Crixus reached into his robes, pulling out a piece of paper with a location scribbled in black ink on it. His eyes fell to the paper as he took a deep breath and slid it across the table to Lysandra. "I've already picked out a location suitable for my purposes, send for me at Montblac's estate when you aquire them and we will meet at this location." he tapped his finger slightly upon the paper before leaning back in his seat. It had finally came down to his part of the bargin, what could he supply to Lysandra in turn for her aid, or "favor" as she said. The word stuck in Crixus head, "favor", there was no such word as nothing was ever a favor, there was always somthing that would be needed in return sooner or later.

"Other than my own dark secrets, I'm afraid there's little 'gossip' I can offer." he began, his eyes fixated a ring left by his cup on the table. "But as an old friend, I can tell you that I don't wish to see your life ended by this war, so I can offer you advice." a brief pause filled the room, as if the air had become stale with the turn of conversation. "If you leave these walls to meet Haroun you shall never return, that I can assure you, that fool from Bravil will be the one to lead your flock to the slaughter." Crixus took a deep breath and then spotted a map of Hammerfell amongst the papers across the table. Grasping the map he pulled it out from under the stack and made his way to Lysandra's side.

"The Confederation is an excellent position for a defensive war. The Corten Mont to the north-west and neutral states between on the other side of the range leaves only two avenues of assault by Yokudan military force." his finger now rested on the land between the Yokudan border and Taneth. "A land assault will come from Taneth, if Taneth falls, Roseguard and Rihad will be next." moving his finger across the bay of Hnes Rex he continued. "The sea will also be a front, you can expect blockades of your ports by their superior naval forces and an attempt to starve your people out and goad them into open battle. Victory is not in your card, my old friend, whatever force is driving Haroun ensures that..but if your smart, you can maybe bring Haroun to the peace table and withdraw your order back to Cyrodill relatively intact."

The Bleeding Rock

Hasturbal Rizar

Just as soon as he had arrived Hanno Tavaro had disappeared into the badlands of Hammerfell, like a sandstorm he came and went with no warning and could reappear at a moments notice. Perhaps that was the most unnerving thing Hasturbal found about his Il-Khan and War Chief, the very thought that he could pop up at any moment and the fact that Hanno wouldn't hesitate to slit his throat in his sleep if he could find the proper reason too. A low campfire sparked to life as he entered the camp after departing from Hanno, the smell of local plain gazelle filled the immediate camp area and Hasturbal realized just how hungry he was, like a gaping hole in his stomach that demanded it be filled or it would devour him like the famous hunger of Satakal. The crackle of the fire was soon drowned out by the subtle sound of hooves entering the camp and Hasturbal's spirits began to rise and the uncomfortable presence of Hanno washed from his mind.

"You fought well son!" Hasturbal exclaimed as he approached his son's horse, patting the beast on its neck as he looked up towards his young offspring that was no longer so young. Hasturbal had found himself proud in his son, who had grown up to be a fine warrior and had saved his old man's hide several times before this.

Rihad Keep Meeting Room

The Knight Commander listened patiently to Athanden's rationale behind the price. The Crimson Blades seemed to be quite the capable force, and he would definitely be able to find a good use for them. And, like Terentius himself, many of them had served in the Oblivion Crisis, which definitely influenced his judgment. The Dunmer had a point; the men needed to keep happy to remain an effective combat force. But he couldn't help but smile when Athanden offered a new price.

"...However I see that your Order has already spent enough on this campaign, therefore I offer the price of 130 silvers without the cost of supplies." said the mercenary leader before shifting in his seat. "We need food, clean water, hay, oats if you can spare, medical supplies, and a few barrels of lamp oil."

"That price is much more reasonable. On behalf of the Knights of the Nine, I hereby hire the Crimson Blades to fight the Yokudan Empire. Return to your men and sail north to Taneth; it is there that we suspect the fighting will begin. We will send you the supplies you requested before you leave. When you reach Taneth, keep your men outside the city to the south, and send someone in to notify the Knight Commander there, Tarsius Vario, that I sent you. Accept whatever orders he gives you. Are these terms agreeable?" replied Stanet.

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Rihad Docks

The young brown-haired Imperial squire hurried through the thronging crowds in the Rihad docks, ignoring the lively scene about him. His eyes were fixed on the docked ships, scanning their names in search for a very specific one. He bumped into more than a few sailors and merchants and received dirty looks for it, but he ignored those, too. The young man was, after all, an Armiger of the Nine, and if the heathen citizens of Rihad had an issue with him, they could take it up with the order.

Finally, the messenger saw the ship he needed: the Lusty Lady. He was a little annoyed at his superiors for sending him on messenger work, especially to such a disreputable group, but orders were orders. Brushing past a number of pedestrians, he stepped onto the pier and produced a scroll case from his satchel. He approached the first pirate he saw near the ship and spoke with a hint of contempt in his young voice.

"I'm here to deliver this letter of marque to your captain."

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The Lusty Lady, below deck

As far as arrangements went, Swims-in-Shadows had seen far worse. For a pirate ship, The Lusty Lady was surprisingly comfortable and its crew surprisingly welcoming. Most pirates didn't take passengers along that they didn't plan to waylay, and the Argonian suspected that this crew was no different. He wasn't worried, however; if they tried anything once they were out at sea, he could just smash open the ship's hull with the gauntlet and swim out, leaving the pirates to drown.

What worried the Argonian about the journey wasn't the pirates at all. He was far less reputable than any of them; at least they killed for profit, not pleasure. No, he was nervous about having to spend the whole journey in close contact with his companions. Arethan was tolerable, even if he swore too much, but Swims had grown to dislike everyone else with whom he traveled. Alaudis would probably complain about the foul company they were keeping. The two new Bretons, whose names he still didn't know, would probably ask questions about the mission the whole way. Something about Servyn rubbed Swims the wrong way, and he still harbored annoyance at Rithe from earlier.

Such were the thoughts of Swims-in-Shadows as he took his seat on the hard bed below deck. Looking around, he appraised the situation. The pirate captain, a woman named Camille, was quite attractive by mammalian standards, although Swims was only interested in members of his own race. He paid more attention to the array of knives and swords that she carried on her person, trying to figure out how effective they would be against his chitinous armor in case he ended up in a fight with her.

Swims watched Rithe take his place on a bed in the corner before pulling out some faintly glowing light blue object, although he couldn't tell what it was in the current lighting conditions. By the Hist, what is it with him and dark corners? Still, it beats having to speak to him. And now, we wait.

Still, Camille had given them permission to wander around and mingle with the ship's crew. Now that he thought about it, the pirates might prove to be much more tolerable society than his own companions. It's either sit in this dark room with a bunch of people I don't like, or meet some new people. Ah, what the hell? Why not? Swims-in-Shadows stood up and walked away from the beds without saying anything. The first mate and the Imperial and Khajiit who had been speaking with each other earlier seemed like an intriguing group. The Argonian began to look around the lower deck for them.